Taurus: Zodiac Killers, #6

By WL Knightly

Alan Lowe, the Zodiac's Taurus, didn't think life could get any worse than his wife leaving him over his gambling debts and owing thirty grand to a thug named Benny. But that was before the Zodiac Killer decided it was time to take a chance on him.

 

After kidnapping his wife, the killer demanded that Alan kill Seth, but when the task is done, will it be enough? Who will be the next to die? Will Alan have the guts to murder someone else, or will he sacrifice himself instead?

 

Detective Darek Blake's fine line is getting thinner, and with the evidence getting harder to control, the risk is taking its toll. With him and Lizzy on the outs, will they let their issues compromise an already difficult case? Or will taking time to focus on the evidence instead of each other make it stronger?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BrixBaxter Publishing
• Release date: May 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386734482

Book preview

Chapter 1

Alan

Sweat dripped down Alan Lowe’s brow, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Seth’s pleading cries still echoed in his ears, along with the sound of the gunshots. He’d used a silencer, but the shots were anything but silent, and Seth had made enough noise that someone in the hotel may have been suspicious. Or maybe not. His brain was so scrambled, he couldn’t think straight. Either way, he had to move fast.

He had to get some distance between himself and the man he had killed. It was easier not to think of his name. He was just the man on the floor. The man who lay in a puddle of his own blood. His old friend’s name arose in his mind anyway. Seth.

Alan struggled with his guilt, unable to believe what he’d done. He’d only come to New York to do a little business and sell one of his buildings. The quick cash would pay off his gambling debts, but now he had an entirely new set of problems.

Alan glanced down at the floor and swallowed hard, biting back the bile that had risen in his throat. He had to make sure he didn’t vomit. He’d already taken precautions not to leave any evidence in the hotel room. He couldn’t screw up by leaving possible traces of DNA. It was bad enough Seth’s sole purpose for being in New York was to meet up with Alan about the property.

After snapping a photo of his kill with his phone, Alan put his ear to the door and listened for any movement in the hall. He heard none, and he tucked the gun in his pants and opened the door. He looked both ways and then hurried to the elevator. When the doors opened, he breathed a sigh of relief that no one was inside. The guilt he felt had to be plain on his face.

His security company oversaw the surveillance in this hotel, and he had rebooted the system, giving him a good hour of downtime when the cameras wouldn’t be recording. Still, if someone saw him here, all of his precautions would have been for nothing.

He held on to the railing as the elevator descended and he tried to compose himself. He had one more thing to do. He found the previous thread of texts from an anonymous number and sent the photo of Seth’s body, proving the deed was done.

His hands trembled, and he tried not to look too hard at what he’d done. It was no use. Seth’s head was turned at a weird angle, his mouth gaped wide, and that look of panic was a permanent death mask for him to wear down to the morgue.

Alan looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. It was over now. Time to focus on what he had to do next.

Once he made it to the lobby, he kept his chin tucked low, popped his collar, and made a quick exit. As soon as the damp city air hit his lungs, with all the smells of smog and street vendors, he ducked into the nearest alley and puked.

How was this his life?

A month ago, things were fine. At least, he was going through at a normal level of dysfunction, but then his daughter fell ill. She was having episodes. The doctors thought it might be some form of epilepsy, but they had no idea how to treat her condition. The endless string of tests and doctors’ visits had drained Alan’s bank account, which was never that robust to begin with. Despite owning a successful business, most of his money went to the casinos in Vegas, where he lived.

Out of money and out of options, Alan had taken a loan from a thug named Benny, hoping to turn the borrowed cash into a sizeable chunk of change. When that didn’t work, he’d borrowed more. Alan was thirty grand in the hole, although selling the building would take care of that.

To make matters worse, someone was targeting the members of the Zodiac Society, and his old friends had been dropping like flies. The killer had kidnapped Alan’s wife and forced him to kill Seth if he ever wanted to see her again.

Alan had put the woman through enough hell, and if their marriage survived this, he would be shocked. Things between them had been rocky before. Adding a kidnapping to the mix was unlikely to improve his wife’s feelings toward him. Still, he loved her more than anything in the world, and he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

He stood upright and made sure that he didn’t have anything on his clothes, no blood, no vomit. Even though he seemed clean, he checked and rechecked a hundred times. He didn’t want to carry any part of Seth from the scene; the memory of his final pleas was enough to haunt him forever.

He took a cab to the airport and was careful not to make too much eye contact with the driver, who seemed to mind his own business, thank fuck.

He was ready to get back to his city, to his home. He’d grown up most of his life there, from the time he was eight and his family moved from Virginia to Vegas, trading one V for another, as his old man put it.

Those were happy times until his mother met a con man who not only tried to ruin his father’s company but took his mother away from him. After that, he was left to watch his father struggle, not only to keep his business afloat, which took a big hit when his mom’s new lover took nearly all of their money, but the old man struggled with alcohol and being left alone with a kid to raise.

Alan arrived at the airport and realized that he’d brought the gun with him. Stupid, stupid. He wanted to kick his own ass. Why not just shout to the world what he had done? He knew better than to walk into the airport armed, and he looked around outside the terminal for a place to stash the gun. Some big planters sat near a group of benches. This time of night, there weren’t many people stirring, and that would work to his advantage.

He took a seat on the bench close to the big stone planter. The dirt beneath the leafy shrub was littered with cigarette butts and gum, but it looked soft enough to dig with his hand. He glanced around as casually as possible. No one was watching, and he didn’t even see a camera anywhere in sight.

He rested against the planter, letting his hand work the soil, digging in nice and deep. When he was sure no one was looking, he dropped the gun into the hole and covered it up. He even made sure to put some of the trash and a couple of cigarette butts over the hiding place, just to make it look less conspicuous. He wiped his hand on his jeans and got up to go inside.

He went to the ticket counter and tried to appear calm as the woman behind the counter typed away on her computer.

May I help you? she asked, barely glancing up at Alan, which was fine by him. He had a feeling if she looked at him too closely, it would only make him more nervous. He didn’t need any more problems. All he needed was to go home.

Yes, I need a one way to Las Vegas, and I’m not picky. He listened to the rattle of her keys as he looked away.

You’re in luck, she said. The next flight is about to board in twenty minutes.

It was the first bit of luck he’d had in a while. Before she could say another word, he handed her his credit card, and she took it. A minute later, he was walking away with his ticket.

He found the restroom and washed his hands and face. Then he raked his hands through his dirty blond hair and scratched his stubble. His green eyes were still a bit wild looking, but he figured if anyone asked, he could explain it away by saying he was just tired. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his hands from shaking. He needed a drink and planned to have a couple on the plane. Hopefully, that would calm his nerves.

Even though he kept seeing Seth on the floor of his hotel room, the blood pouring from him like he’d hit an artery, he couldn’t get his mind off of his wife. He had messaged the killer, and now he was supposed to hear word of Jamie’s whereabouts. That was the deal.

He had gotten the photo of his wife on his way to New York. She was bound and gagged, with tears streaming from her red-rimmed eyes. He wanted to turn around and go straight back to Las Vegas, but he knew he better follow the killer’s instructions to the letter.

Besides, what good would it have done to head back? He would still be in debt, and he would still need the deal and the thirty grand to come through. He would not only be going back home not knowing where his wife was being held, but he would have a few cracked ribs and possibly a broken arm waiting for him. And that was the best-case scenario.

If only he hadn’t let his gambling addiction get the best of him. He could have just walked away from that table, but instead, he’d let Benny extend a line of credit. It wasn’t until he was in too deep, losing the hand that would ruin his marriage, that he realized what a huge mistake he’d made. That was after he’d woken up in his man cave at home with a massive hangover. Benny had given him time to find the money, but time was running out, so having a serial killing psychopath on his heels was the last thing he needed.

As he heard the call to board his flight, he wished he hadn’t ever met Seth or Bay or any of the other Zodiacs. It was a long road that had brought him to this point in his life, to the time where he had to atone for his mistakes and make up for the awful thing he’d done.

He let the events play through his mind as he made his way to the gate and boarded the flight.

The girl, Emily Johnson—a name that had burned in his memory since—was no more than a child herself. It was funny how he didn’t realize it so much back then, but of course, he’d only been a child too. Fifteen years old was far too young to do something so sinister that it would haunt him the rest of his life.

But he, Seth, Bay, and the others had taken turns carving up the poor girl and then tossed her aside like garbage, leaving her to bleed out and die. All for a fantasy; a foolish idea that Bay, their fearless sociopath of a leader, had designed in his twisted mind.

He had never killed anything before then, and his dad had sent him home to Virginia to the nearby camp to make a man out of him. And to get rid of him. His father had hoped he would learn manly skills, or his idea of them, like cleaning fish and shooting deer. He had come home with a much more brutal accomplishment and a badge of shame to carry with him forever.

The Taurus symbol had been branded on the front of his left shoulder when he joined the Zodiacs, and if it hadn’t been for him wanting to be a part of something, to have that manly camaraderie, he would have never done it.

Alan remembered leaving the camp and being picked up by his father. He knew he would never be able to hide the mark, so he showed it off and told his father he had been initiated into a fraternity of sorts. His father had been proud of him for taking the hazing like a man, so proud that he’d let him drink a beer with him.

He’d been drinking ever since.

He took out his phone and silenced it. Then he looked at his messages, hoping one would have come through from the killer by then. He put the phone in his pocket and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. If he didn’t hear something soon, he was going to lose his mind.

After the flight attendant gave her announcements and the takeoff was complete, he called her over. Could I get a drink, please. Bourbon?

Yes, sir, she said, giving him a wink. As she walked away, he turned and noticed the attractive young woman next to him. She smiled a little too hard at him, giving him looks like she could sop him up with a biscuit, but for all his might, he couldn’t give one back. She was sexy, but he had nothing to be happy about. The only woman he’d been with since his wedding day was tied up in a chair with a gag in her mouth.

Here you are, sir, said the attendant, who wasn’t so bad looking herself. Can I get you anything else?

Alan hated to ask, but he had one more request. Do you have something for a headache? His head was screaming, and if he didn’t do something about it, he was just going to be miserable for the next three to four hours.

Sure. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a blister pack of aspirin. Are you okay?

What the hell? I may as well take up lying too. Yeah, just fine. If he didn’t hear something from the killer soon, he might never be fine again.

Chapter 2

Darek

Detective Darek Blake couldn’t help but think that seven-thirty in the morning was way too early to be on your way to the doctor’s office, but at least he was finally getting his appointment over with. He had put off his second appointment of the year as long as he could, but his six-month supply of medication was running out, and he had no choice.

The only thing worse than having to go to an appointment was having to go to work after, especially considering the mess he’d made of his and Lizzy’s relationship, but with any luck, they would be able to keep things professional from here on out.

Not that he really wanted things to be professional, but after she had lied to his face, Darek didn’t think he could be with her. He had to overlook that she was the sexiest woman he’d been with or that she was perfect for him. He