Valhalla Lightning: Crime Thriller, #2

By Tyler Hunt

Doc Cleo never turns down a dangerous mission, and when the Mayor of Seattle calls regarding a cult pagan group that is wreaking havoc on the city, she jumps on board. With the help of her trusted and trained team, they discover that the leader, Jergen Mayerson, has found a way to use lightning as a means of control and punishment to those who go against his belief. 

Devising a plan, it's only a matter of time until the extremist group is on their tail, which also means risk for everyone involved. Juggling both the high-stakes mission and her relationship with Ant, Doc Cleo has her work cut out for her. Will the team outrun and outwit this group or will they find themselves back at home licking their wounds? What is behind the unusual use of lightning?

In this thrilling second installment by the talented Tyler Hunt, Valhalla Lightning is a stunning Crime thriller novel that only adds to the first. Action packed, you won't be able to put it down! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gold Eclipse - Mystery Thriller
• Release date: Sep 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536546538

Book preview

VALHALLA LIGHTNING

Normally, Mr. Mayor, I don’t get involved in investigations which involve criminal activity, Dr. Cleopatra Williams said over her phone to the man in Seattle. She was having her latest boots polished by Ant Kallikrates, officially her IT director, and unofficially her boy toy. She didn’t find it strange that Ant was on the floor treating them with care and devotion.  Finished, he sat up and she motioned for him to sit down in the chair beside her.

I see, she told the man on the other end of the line. I suppose I could fit it in my schedule to fly out tomorrow and have a look on the ground. No, don’t worry about it. I’ll add it to the final bill if anything comes out of the trip. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Something important, Ma’am? Ant asked her. He was thrilled she would let him be in the same room when he made a call. But he didn’t want her to know it.

The mayor of Seattle was on the phone, she explained to him, getting up off the couch. It looks like we’ll be flying out there tomorrow. You need to call the airport and have my plane ready. Raz will be doing the flying again. I’d have you do it, but you’re still working on your pilot’s license.

Doc Cleo, which was what everyone called her when she wasn’t around, had walked by Ant’s work station two months ago and told him he’d just been enrolled in flight school and would be taking lessons near a local airport. Outwardly he was bummed as it meant less time to play computer games. Inwardly he was excited to be learning how to fly a commuter jet. But it wasn’t a good idea to let his full-time employer know it. His value to her organization was in his computer coding skills, not shuttling her around in the air.

There’s some crazy Viking cult operating out of Seattle and they claim to have power to bring lighting down from the sky, she explained to Ant. She checked her appearance in the parlor mirror. Doc Cleo lived in one of the better parts of the Philadelphia Main Line. It was a house way too big for one woman, but not the ego she carried around. I’d let the police handle the situation, but this lighting from the sky angle has me interested. It will probably end up being a bunch of freaks reading too many Marvel comics.

Good job on the boots, she said admiring the polish job. She tapped his chin. I’ll be sure and reward you later. Now go get the SUV started.

Ant drove her down to the building she owned in Philadelphia while his Ma’am was on the phone talking to a few other clients. Her official role was a psychotherapist, but the good doctor had a side company where she investigated paranormal activity. After her fiancée had gone insane from trying out a ritual in an ancient spell book, she had devoted her life to studying the unexplained. So far, it was all bogus. Nothing she had discovered turned out to be credible in the least way or form. But it didn’t stop her from trying. She was born wealthy and never said where her money originated.

Her team consisted of Ant, who handled her computer network, her nephew Worthy, who could track down bad money faster than a bloodhound, Kathleen, a medical doctor who specialized in neurosurgery, Raz, the strongman from the mountains of Chechnya, and Ramona, the sultry seductress from Columbia. Doc Cleo had rescued them all from some very bad situations and given their lives purpose and meaning. They were fiercely loyal to her. Even her nephew was out on bail after the Security and Exchanges Commission had chased him down in the Caribbean for running a mortgage fraud operation. Doc Cleo was the visionary who put together Team Haunt, as the media had dubbed it, after they had busted several fraudulent psychics in the Midwest.

Ant dropped her off at the steps of the building where her clinical offices were housed. She owned the entire building and several others near Philly, but was quiet about it. The good doctor didn’t like to be hounded by people who wanted access to her money and would refer any requests for donations or lectures to the team members. Whoever was next in line had to field any calls she had coming in that day. They had to treat each one with respect because they never knew if a call or email might be a prank or a serious request to do an investigation.

After listening to her heels click on the stone steps of the building, Ant took the SUV down to the underground parking garage. He hadn’t even known that she owned a commuter jet until the day she told him he would be learning to fly one. You couldn’t fly those things solo, it occurred to him. Was she going to use another one of the team as co-pilot? It turned out Raz already had his license. Having to use two pilots meant she had to hire someone else to fly shotgun. It made sense for him to learn.

But it didn’t seem as though he would be going to his aviation classes this week. Whatever the Mayor of Seattle had told Doc Cleo, it had aroused her interest enough to fly out and check on what was happening. She had already mentioned a weird Viking cult on the way over. Strange cults were her specialty. She’d already sent an Ancient Egyptian cult packing after threatening to reveal who the money was behind it. Worthy, working with Ant, could follow the money trail wherever it went.

The air was stale in the underground parking garage when he dropped off the SUV. The attendant, a man from West Africa who worked for the company which took care of the parking lot, waved him on after he dropped the keys