The Paradise Coven

By Bentley Wells

Columbus, Ohio, Homicide Detectives, Michael McConnell and Aaron Simmons, investigate the brutal murders of two women. There are no witnesses and few clues, except for unfamiliar words the killer has printed in lipstick on each victim—words which have demonic connotations, making the detectives wonder if they are dealing with a serial killer or a demon from Hell. As McConnell and Simmons dig for the truth, they discover a decades-old third murder with the same MO. This victim had ties to a mysterious club, The Paradise Coven, that may be responsible for all three murders. Unfortunately, the terrible secret the detectives unravel may have far-reaching consequences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Opal Books
• Release date: Apr 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781626946507

Book preview

Columbus, Ohio, Homicide Detectives, Michael McConnell and Aaron Simmons, investigate the brutal murders of two women. There are no witnesses and few clues, except for unfamiliar words the killer has printed in lipstick on each victim--words which have demonic connotations, making the detectives wonder if they are dealing with a serial killer or a demon from Hell. As McConnell and Simmons dig for the truth, they discover a decades-old third murder with the same MO. This victim had ties to a mysterious club―The Paradise Coven―that may be responsible for all three murders. Unfortunately, the terrible secret the detectives unravel may have far-reaching consequences.

KUDOS FOR THE PARADISE COVEN

In The Paradise Coven by Bentley Wells, two Columbus, Ohio, detectives are trying to solve a series of murders. They have a suspect, but little evidence, and the evidence they do have gets thrown out due to a technicality caused by overeager police work. As the detectives dig for the truth, they discover a cold case in another town with a common thread--ancient words written in lipstick on the victims. The main problem for the detectives? Their current suspect couldn’t have committed the old murder, so are the new murders the work of a copycat, or do they share the same killer? And what does a mysterious college club called The Paradise Coven have to do with it all? Wells has crafted a clever, intense, and fast-pace mystery, where everyone seems to be a suspect, and you won’t figure it out until the end. ~ Taylor Jones, The Review Team of Taylor Jones & Regan Murphy

The Paradise Coven by Bentley Wells is the story of a murder plot that is a lot more far-reaching than it seems. When two women turn up dead in Columbus, Ohio, Detective Michael McConnell is sure that he won’t have to look far for the perp. After all, the last person to see the victim alive should be the killer, right? Especially when the same person was with each victim just before she died. But the case isn’t as easily solved as the detective thinks. Especially when a similar murder comes to light, this one a decades-old cold case from another jurisdiction, that has a connection to an elite college club called The Paradise Coven. Members of the club swear it was nothing more than a study club to help improve their grades, but rumors claim it’s demonic. And with words written on the victims that have demonic connotations, there’s a good chance the rumors may be right. The Paradise Coven is part murder mystery, part psychological thriller, fast-paced, tense, and filled with twists and turns--an entertaining and compelling read. ~ Regan Murphy, The Review Team of Taylor Jones & Regan Murphy

THE PARADISE COVEN

BENTLEY WELLS

A Black Opal Books Publication

Copyright © 2017 by Bentley Wells

Cover Design by Jackson Cover Design

All cover art copyright © 2017

All Rights Reserved

EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-626946-50-7

EXCERPT

They were sure they knew who the murderer was, but now they were being told they couldn’t touch him...

McConnell and Simmons walked toward their respective offices. They saw Captain Black through his office window. He was motioning to them. McConnell opened the door and followed Simmons inside.

Captain Black stood. Sit down, he ordered.

McConnell and Simmons glanced at each other, shrugged, and sat down.

What’s up, Captain? McConnell asked.

Captain Black crossed his arms and shook his head. Guess who called about an hour ago?

Who? McConnell asked.

The DA.

What about? Simmons asked.

Captain Black uncrossed his arms, moved to the front of his desk, and sat down on top of it. It seems Marks’s attorney informed him that Marks saw you two this morning, he replied. She said that he saw you two when he left his apartment and again when he arrived at work.

That’s true, McConnell admitted. We followed him.

McConnell, leave him alone.

But--

McConnell, if you don’t leave him alone, his attorney will file a lawsuit against the department.

DEDICATION

This novel is for my wife and sisters.

7. And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels,

8. And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven.

9. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.

Revelation, Chapter 12.

PART I

LATE SPRING 1994

CHAPTER 1

The attractive woman with shoulder-length black hair and dark brown eyes returned from the kitchen with two partially filled glasses. The man with blond hair and blue eyes, who appeared to be in his early twenties, glanced at her. A smile formed on his face. Then he looked at the large television directly across the room.

As she approached him, he reached for the glasses. Let me help you. He carefully put the glasses on coasters that rested on the oak coffee table in front of him.

Thank you, she said. She sat on the cream-colored leather sofa next to him.

He glanced at her and smiled.

Did I miss anything? she asked.

He shook his head. No. The movie just started. He took a drink from the glass nearest him.

I bought that brand of water today. Do you like it?

It’s very good, he assured her. Is it the same brand we had after our round of racquetball?

No. Why?

Just wondered. He thought about their game of racquetball. Considering how much she enjoyed sports, he thought she should have worked in a physical fitness center. However, she didn’t need to work because her parents had been incredibly wealthy. When they died in a car accident, everything--about fifty million dollars’ worth--had been left to her. She’d been twenty-one. Several years later, she married a man who had become one of the most successful cardiovascular surgeons in the state, if not in the country. The marriage had ended in a highly publicized divorce. According to the TV and newspapers, she had received approximately ten million dollars in the settlement. That was last year. She had been thirty-two.

She looked at his right index finger. How’s your finger?

He glanced at it. I think I’ll live, he replied. I can’t believe I did that. He had cut his finger with a knife while helping her prepare a tossed salad, which they had eaten after their game.

Thomas?

He noticed that her dark brown eyes were fixed on him. Yes? he asked.

Do you like me?

Yes. You know I do.

Do you like being with me?

Of course. We have fun.

"But I am older--"

He laughed. You are? Why didn’t you tell me? Then he reached for her hands. He glanced at her fingernails. She had them manicured once a week. He looked at the light veins on the backs of her hands. Then he kissed them. He looked at her face. A smile formed on her mouth. He leaned toward her. You want to know something?

What?

I enjoy being with you. In fact, I think I’m falling in love with you.

She didn’t say anything.

He moved closer and whispered, I’d like to kiss you.

You have my permission, she said playfully.

Their lips touched, and suddenly he felt warmer. He leaned back and looked at her. Her lips parted, revealing her perfect white teeth. He looked at her black hair.

Is something wrong? she asked.

He shook his head. No. He glanced at her lightly tanned legs, which had helped defeat him at racquetball earlier.

She noticed his glance. Do you like what you see? she asked with a smile.

I’m sorry, he said.

Thomas, there is no need to be sorry. Then she reached for him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

When their lips parted, she reached for her glass of water. Thomas grabbed her in his arms and pulled her to him. Their eyes met, and he could feel her warm breath on his face. Suddenly, he held her at arms’ length and looked at her. You know, you are a very beautiful woman.

She laughed. Thank you.

Your former husband must be very stupid.

Why do you say that?

Because. He let you get a divorce.

Actually, he had grown to love another woman.

Like I said, your former husband must be very stupid.

He pulled her closer and kissed her. Suddenly, he realized that something was wrong. Although he had not experienced any physical pain, he felt his body jerk once, then twice. He tried to speak. Nothing. He thought he could see Madalyn growing concerned, asking, What’s wrong? But he wasn’t certain. His vision had become impaired. She had become a blur. Then he lost consciousness.

CHAPTER 2

Carla Holt drove her new, dark blue BMW into Madalyn Ross’s driveway and expected to see Madalyn waiting on her orange brick porch. After all, this was their morning to play tennis at the club. Carla put the car in park and turned off the ignition. Then she went to the door of Madalyn’s condominium and knocked several times, but there was no response. This is strange, she thought. Carla looked at her watch. It was one minute after seven. She knocked again. No response. She pushed the buzzer several times. Nothing. She turned to see if any neighbors had come outside. None had. She noticed a light in the window of a unit two doors away. She walked quickly to the condominium and knocked on the door. The door opened and a middle-aged woman in large yellow curlers and a white terry cloth bathrobe stood in the doorway.

I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Madalyn Ross. She lives in the last unit, just down there. Carla pointed. I was supposed to pick her up at seven. I’ve tried knocking--I’ve tried her doorbell. Nothing. She could see a white cordless telephone on a mahogany stand in the foyer. I left my cell phone at home. May I use your phone?

The woman detected a look of concern on the petite stranger’s face and a nervous tremor in her voice. Yes, of course. Please come in. My name is Margaret Turner. She extended her hand.

Thank you, Carla said as she shook the woman’s hand. My name is Carla--Carla Holt. Carla entered the tastefully furnished condominium. As she moved toward the telephone, she could hear the door close behind her. She picked up the receiver and dialed Madalyn’s number. She let it ring several times, but there was no answer. She turned toward Margaret. Do you think something’s happened to her?

I doubt it. Then Margaret smiled, trying to instill hope in the younger woman.

But I was supposed to pick her up. Where do you think she is?

Margaret shrugged. Perhaps she went to a friend’s house and forgot to tell you.

Carla shook her head. No, not Madalyn. She would have called me.

Would you like a cup of coffee? Margaret asked.

No. Thanks. I’d better go.

Carla went to the rear of Madalyn’s unit to see if she could peep through a window. Even though the blinds were drawn, a small gap afforded her a view of Madalyn’s bedroom. Carla peered through the gap and immediately saw a motionless figure lying face down on the bed. The figure’s left hand was almost touching the floor. Carla banged on the window. The figure did not move.

Carla ran to Margaret Turner’s condo and knocked on the door. When Margaret appeared, Carla described what she had seen through the window. May I use your phone again? she asked.

Of course.

Carla picked up the receiver and dialed nine-one-one.

***

Two Columbus police officers--one white and one African American--arrived about ten minutes later. Carla introduced herself and explained what she had seen through the window. She noticed that the white officer’s stomach was partially hiding the large black belt that held his pistol and other gear.

She noticed that the black officer was about six inches taller and more muscular than the white officer. She guessed that he had played football earlier in his life.

Although Carla had wanted to enter her friend’s condominium, the African American officer told her to stand back. She watched as the officer unlocked the door.

Where did you get the key to her door? she asked.

The officers turned.

From the security officer. Why? the black officer asked.

I didn’t realize that he had a key.

This is a gated community, Ms. Holt, the white officer said. The security officer has to have keys to all property whenever the management office is closed. And the management office does not open until nine.

The officers looked at each other and shook their heads.

The black officer glanced at Carla. Ms. Holt, wait here.

Then the officers withdrew their pistols and entered the condominium. When they reached the bedroom, they saw a fully clothed female figure lying on her stomach on the bed.

Smitty, said the black officer as he put his pistol away.

Yeah?

Go check on the woman. Make sure she hasn’t entered the condo.

Right. Smitty turned and left.

The other officer prepared himself for the worst. He felt for a pulse. Nothing. He bent down and looked at the woman’s face. He could see several patches of dried blood on her forehead. He looked at the top of her head. A large area of dried blood had matted her hair. But he could not determine the source of the blood.

He scanned the room.

Nothing, it seemed, was amiss.

He left the room, told Smitty not to allow anyone into the unit, and went to the black and white patrol car to report a probable homicide.

CHAPTER 3

Detectives Michael McConnell and Aaron Simmons, as well as a forensics