Whispers of the Dead: Zoë Delante Thrillers, #1

By C.L. Roberts-Huth

No rest for the Wiccan.

WINNER: Pinnacle Book Achievement Award -- Best Paranormal Suspense

The hunt for a murderer unfolds, dropping Zoe right in the middle of a power struggle between a nightmare of a coven, and a serial killer leaving bodies in ceremonial circles in the rural parts of Baltimore's city limits. A race against celestial bodies and the trail of earthbound body parts keeps our intrepid clairvoyant running right until the very end.

"There's a little mystery, a little romance, and a lot of suspense and magick. Recommended if you like an action-packed paranormal tale." ~ IndieHeart

"If you love crime drama with a twist then, this is a must read!" ~ Kristin Marie, Author

EVOLVED PUBLISHING PRESENTS a suspenseful, thrilling glance inside one woman's extraordinary connection to the elements around her, in the first of the action-packed, paranormal "Zoë Delante Thrillers" series.[DRM-Free]

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evolved Publishing LLC
• Release date: Dec 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781622532049

C.L. Roberts-Huth

C.L. Roberts-Huth fumbles away at her keyboard in sunny southeastern Arizonan town of Sierra Vista, while juggling a day job, two college kids and one in elementary school, and writing her paranormal thrillers with her partner-in-crime, Peter, and their two furbabies. Writing is her life blood, letting her channel trauma of childhood and adolescence into a myriad of stories that reflect the multi-faceted path of her personal journey. The lover of many genres but the author of few, she finds peace in the dark and violent worlds she creates, where the underdogs win more than they lose.

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WHISPERS OF THE DEAD

(Zoë Delante Thrillers – Book 1)

Copyright © 2013 C.L. Roberts-Huth

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ISBN (EPUB Version): 162253204X

ISBN-13 (EPUB Version): 978-1-62253-204-9

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Editor: Megan Harris

Senior Editor: Lane Diamond

Cover Artist: Mallory Rock

Interior Designer: Lane Diamond

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PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

At the end of this novel of approximately 76,300 words, you will find two Special Sneak Previews: 1) WHISPERS OF THE SERPENT by C.L. Roberts-Huth, the second chilling paranormal suspense thriller in this Zoë Delante Thrillers series, and; 2) BROOMETIME SERENADE by Barry Metcalf, the first book in the exciting The Oz Files series of paranormal crime thrillers from Down Under. We think you’ll enjoy these books, too, and provide these previews as a FREE extra service, which you should in no way consider a part of the price you paid for this book. We hope you will both appreciate and enjoy the opportunity. Thank you.

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eBook License Notes:

You may not use, reproduce or transmit in any manner, any part of this book without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews, or in accordance with federal Fair Use laws. All rights are reserved.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only; it may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to your eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.

Books by C.L. Roberts-Huth

Zoë Delante Thrillers

1) Whispers of the Dead

2) Whispers of the Serpent

3) Whispers of the Sidhe

4) Whispers of the Heir (Coming 2020)

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www.CLRoberts-Huth.com

What Others Are Saying About C.L. Roberts-Huth’s Books

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Whispers of the Dead:

A very believable, well-researched crime drama, this novel uses white magic to solve the most horrible crimes in a supernatural battle that will singe the reader’s eyelashes! Zoe captures your heart as she defeats forces that appear invincible, giving us a view of the life of a witch who uses her power to solve crime and relieve suffering at a great cost to her own physical well being. It’s a view inside witchcraft that may change your attitudes completely. A MUST read! ~ Mari Sloan

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Whispers of the Dead:

Absolutely riveting and thoroughly enjoyable thriller with great elements of the occult. Looking forward to sequels! ~ Jerry J. Davis

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Whispers of the Dead:

From the start I was captivated by the heroine and couldn’t stop reading. The characters are brought to life beautifully by C. L. Roberts-Huth and the story is imaginative and engaging. I can’t wait to read more from this amazing author!! ~ Heather Quarnstrom

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Whispers of the Serpent:

This book, and this series so far, has been a thriller from front to finish, so do not miss out on these great reads! ~ TDC Book Reviews

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Whispers of the Serpent:

I really enjoy the way Zoe is written. She is strong, but believable. She’s a woman to strive to be, as well as a woman who strives. She realizes her imperfections, but allows them to help her be the best Zoe. She’s made choices that were not so popular, but she also is so honest. With herself, and others. It would be nice to see more about Zoe and her early years, and due to this novel’s cliffhanger, I think we’ll get that in the future. ~ Nicole K.

BONUS CONTENT

We’re pleased to offer you not one, but two Special Sneak Previews at the end of this book.

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In the first preview, you’ll enjoy the First 2 Chapters of C.L. Roberts-Huth’s WHISPERS OF THE SERPENT, the second book in this Zoë Delante Thrillers series.

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OR GRAB THE FULL EBOOK TODAY!

FIND LINKS TO YOUR FAVORITE RETAILER HERE:

ZOE DELANTE THRILLERS Series at Evolved Publishing

In the second preview, you’ll enjoy the First 3 Chapters of Barry Metcalf’s’s award-winning BROOMETIME SERENADE, the first book in the exciting The Oz Files series of paranormal crime thrillers.

~~~

OR GRAB THE FULL EBOOK TODAY!

FIND LINKS TO YOUR FAVORITE RETAILER HERE:

THE OZ FILES Series at Evolved Publishing

Table of Contents

Copyright

Books by C.L. Roberts-Huth

What Others Are Saying

BONUS CONTENT

Table of Contents

Dedication

WHISPERS OF THE DEAD

Chapter 1 – Midnight Rendezvous

Chapter 2 – Boundaries

Chapter 3 – Missing Puzzle Pieces

Chapter 4 – A Hint of Things to Come?

Chapter 5 – Contact

Chapter 6 – Homecoming

Chapter 7 – Backtracking the Monster

Chapter 8 – Marius DeFray

Chapter 9 – Thread of Life

Chapter 10 – Betrayal

Chapter 11 – Another Perspective

Chapter 12 – Weeping Willow

Chapter 13 – Coming Together

Chapter 14 – Through His Eyes

Chapter 15 – Oh, My Goddess

Chapter 16 – The Key

Chapter 17 – Dark Visions

Chapter 18 – Dog & Pony Show

Chapter 19 – Anger

Chapter 20 – Meeting of the Minds

Chapter 21 – Dark Magicks

Chapter 22 – Cat & Mouse

Chapter 23 – An Ill Wind Blows

Chapter 24 – Darkest Places

Chapter 25 – Duty Calls

Chapter 26 – Magickal Alliance

Chapter 27 – A Moment of Weakness

Chapter 28 – Fight!

Chapter 29 – Flesh to Fur

Chapter 30 – A Coven’s Gift

Chapter 31 – Old Enemies & Good Friends

Epilogue

Special Sneak Preview: WHISPERS OF THE SERPENT by C.L. Roberts-Huth

Acknowledgements

About the Author

What’s Next?

More from C.L. Roberts-Huth

More from Evolved Publishing

Special Sneak Preview: BROOMETIME SERENADE by Barry Metcalf

Dedication

For my children, Michael, Cameron and Desmond...

dreams do come true.

Chapter 1 – Midnight Rendezvous

A full moon hung high in the midnight sky, rendering my headlights useless as I drove down a gravel road somewhere in western Maryland. I reached over to the passenger seat and snagged the written directions. Driving at night was almost as bad as navigating unfamiliar routes, yet here I was doing both.

I flicked on the overhead light. Follow the gravel road until it tees, then turn right. Look for lights. I dropped the paper, turned off the light and wiped the sweat from my palm across one thigh. Nerves, yeah, but the knot in my stomach was a bad sign.

Within minutes, the blue and red flashing ambulance lights filled the night sky. Ambulance meant bodies. The knot tightened.

I pulled in beside an unmarked police car. The ambulance wasn’t the only source of light on scene. They had the entire parameter lit up like a Little League field. I counted five uniforms and two plainclothes detectives. Other people hovered in the shadows outside of the illuminated circle.

One of the uniformed officers walked over to the pair of detectives as I got out of the car. The officer pointed in my direction, and the detectives turned to look across the expanse of dying grass between us.

I swallowed hard. They were strangers. Shit.

One of them broke away and made his way toward me. Ms. Zoë Delante? He offered a hand in greeting. A foot taller than me, he stood an easy six foot tall. His hair was light, probably blonde, but I couldn’t be sure.

I shoved my hands into my pockets. Detective.

My apologies. He retracted his hand with a half-hearted smile. The captain mentioned you don’t shake hands with strangers. I’m Detective Daniel Parsons, head of this investigation. I’m grateful for any assistance you can give us. He swept one arm toward the scene. Shall we?

My paranoia might have been on the fritz, but I swore he gave me that look: the one men give women when they’re sizing them up to... eat them? It was subtle, and I wondered if it had been my imagination, but there wasn’t time. The dog and pony show was about to begin. Vanity had to wait.

Exhaling slowly, I pushed the thoughts aside and followed his lead. We trudged through the knee-high grass, and a low bevy of whispers rushed up from the earth—too many for me to make out what they were saying, but the tone was there: Go back.

That wasn’t an option, so I pushed them into the background and started assembling the pieces unfolding in front of me. Old blood wafted on the night breeze, and in the distance, piles of something lay half-hidden behind the traffic of bodies doing their multitude of jobs. Power pulsed in the air, along the earth, into my canvas shoes and through my body. The knot kinked and pulled, and I fought against the telltale rush in my throat. I will not throw up. I will not throw up. I will not—

So you’re the psychic? A gruff male voice broke through my mantra, a welcome distraction. We’d made it to the police tape, and on the other side, the second detective stood, head cocked, measuring me.

I knew that look too and welcomed it. Clairvoyant. I’m the clairvoyant. Or is that too big a word for you, Detective?

He ran a hand through a shock of black hair. He was maybe an inch shorter than his partner, and stockier, too.

I saved a small smile. Two could measure. Time to see if he could keep up.

Parsons chuckled. Ms. Delante, this would be my partner, Detective Michael Sully. Sully, this would, in fact, be the one and only Zoë Delante.

It’s a pleasure. Sully smiled, amusement at our confrontation evident in his tone. Heard a lot about you. Now let’s see if you’re as good as Captain Brooks keeps telling us. If you’ll follow me, we’ve got some evidence for you. How’s your stomach? He lifted the police tape.

I smiled briefly. My stomach will be just fine, Detective.

Detective Parsons fell in step next to me as we stepped under the plastic arch. I wouldn’t worry too much about him, he whispered. He’s a skeptic and a smart ass.

Imagine that. And you? What are your thoughts?

I’ve heard the stories, Ms. Delante, and I’ve read the case files. You’ve got an impressive track record. And.... He shrugged. I’m always open to a new experience.

I gave him a small smile. Well, Detective, working with me is definitely an experience all its own.

Ms. Delante! Sully called out.

I stepped away from his partner and onto the crime scene.

Blood surrounded the remains in thick, congealing puddles. Brown streaks had begun to form on their surfaces, a telltale sign of the crime scene’s age. Two decapitated heads lay to the right of me, and their dead gaze led to a pile of appendages scattered like cords of firewood to the left. I took a deep breath. The noxious scent of decaying flesh made my head spin. Artificial light glistened off the pools of blood and body parts, making the red brighter, the streaks more luminous, the dead skin a ghostly pallor. I forced another breath though my mouth and tried to put everything into perspective. There was so much information already, but I knew from experience that a lot more puzzle pieces remained out there.

When were they found? I asked without pulling my eyes away from the pieces.

About four hours ago. Parsons moved one step closer.

Who found them? I knelt in the grass and touched the nearest puddle.

A young Caucasian girl, maybe 8 years old, cried out, begging for her life. Her tear-stained face flickered in front of me, bright blue eyes wide. A tall shadow fell over where she knelt: definitely a man, given the dark expanse of shoulders and close-cropped head silhouetted against the grass.

She stopped. No more screaming. No begging. Thick, palpable fear remained. The vision started to fade.

I pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket and wiped my fingertips.

Mr. Joseph Geneer, Sully muttered, oblivious to my slideshow. He owns the property. Says he went out around nine to bring his dog in for the night, but the pup had escaped. While he was out looking for him, he found this instead. He gestured around us.

I stood up. Where is he now?

By the ambulance, Parsons replied.

I turned to look. The poor bloodhound pup in his arms held all his attention. I’ll be right back. I made my way over to the witness. No sign the detectives were following me. Good.

Mr. Geneer? My name is Zoë Delante, and I’m a specialist working this case. I held out one hand. How are you holding up?

How do you think I’m doing? he snapped. With a sigh, he loosened one arm from beneath his dog and shook my hand. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick. It’s just so bad....

Fear spiked from his palm to mine, a chilly flash of electricity that brought with it images of his initial intrusion onto the crime scene.

Icarus! Outside my peripheral vision bounded the small shadow of the floppy-eared pup. Icarus, come here! Geneer tripped over something in the darkness and found himself face to face with a dismembered hand. He had thrown up, a desperate act to try and unsee what lay around us. He’d sat on the ground, rocking on hands and knees while the pup lay next to him, for a good ten minutes before getting back up on his feet to call the police.

He released my hand, gave a curious look and shook his head. I just want to go home now. When can I go home?

I gave him a practiced smile. Give me a minute, and I’ll see what I can do for you, sir. I patted the dog and returned to the detectives.

Well? Sully said, his eyes narrowing as I walked underneath the police tape again.

Let him go home. He needs to go home so he can tend to Icarus.

Icarus? The detectives shared a look. Who’s Icarus?

The dog.

I walked away from them to another part of the field. A gobbet of flesh caught my eye. Is that a...? Kneeling down and with another twist of my stomach, I confirmed that it was a breast, the entire mound, complete with nipple, spattered in blood. Oh, gods. I closed my eyes. Can’t save her. Save who you can.

Let Mr. Geneer go home.

Parsons cleared his throat. We can’t do that, Ms. Delante. He’s still a suspect. I can’t just release him.

I stood up again. He didn’t do this. Other than leading you to a fresh crime scene, Mr. Geneer is in no way directly involved.

How can you say that? Parsons’ eyes narrowed and the nice tone of his voice soured. So much for being open to new experiences.

That’s your job, not mine. Frustration started a slow burn in my head as Sully frowned. I’m sorry, but it’s true. If you really thought he was a suspect, he would be in an interrogation room down at the precinct. He isn’t the man you’re looking for.

"And you know this how?" Sully asked.

I bit my tongue. I hated this part—the doubt and narrow-mindedness—and was tired of defending myself. Brooks was going to hear about this in my report. I stood in front of the two men and squared my shoulders, locking eyes with them.

What exactly did he tell you about me?

They stared in silence.

Hello? What did Brooks tell you?

The people gathered around us had stopped talking, their eyes intent on our discussion. The feeling—all those eyes—made my skin crawl, as if I were an exhibit in some sideshow. Didn’t they have evidence to gather, notes to take?

He said you specialized in cases like this. You’re psychic or something.

Psychic. I rubbed my hands against my thighs in agitation. And what does that mean? Should I be wearing a turban? Did I forget to put my hands on my temples and speak in tongues?

Their frowns deepened. They weren’t amused.

Neither was I. Well, detectives?

Sully crossed his arms over his chest. Parsons answered, You sense things: spirits, psychic impressions left on evidence. You probably hear things, too, like a Polaroid with IMAX animation and sound.

I nodded. I’m impressed, Detective. The man who did this was at least your height, a little broader across the shoulders, like a linebacker. Take a good look at your ‘suspect’.

The three of us turned around.

He isn’t much taller than you, Sully remarked, cocking his head to the side.

And he’s too thin, Parsons added.

If I’m wrong.... I offered.

And if you’re wrong....

Well, we know where he lives. You can always pick him up again later.

The two detectives shared a long glance. Sully shrugged his shoulders, unable to offer an alternative.

Parsons sighed. All right, we’ll let him go. Sully, have a couple of uniforms escort him back to the house. Encourage him to stay home and keep away from the media. I’d like to keep this quiet until we have something solid to feed them, you know?

His partner nodded and spared me one last look before heading over to Mr. Geneer. He gave his orders and opened the back door of the nearest police car, offering the man a seat. One issue down, who knew how many left to go.

I knelt back onto the tussled grass, tracing the breast’s edge carefully. Images flashed before me: a woman in her late thirties lay bound at the wrists and ankles, her blue eyes wide. Her screams were muffled, despite the open ‘O’ of her mouth—no bandanna, no ball gag, nothing. Why couldn’t I hear her better?

A deep, spine-tingling shiver swept over me, breaking my concentration and the vision. I looked up from the gore and my breath caught in my throat. The woman I had seen just moments before stood among the oblivious task force, the young girl beside her. The edges of their profiles glowed in that familiar postmortem haze, like someone had tried to erase their outlines with a bad eraser. The glow meant they were freshly dead, less than a week, but this wasn’t new information.

It was clear they shared more than the same blue eyes—same oval face shape, same ears that poked a little too outward from behind the same straw-colored hair. They had to be related, mother and daughter, and somehow that made the whole mess worse. Dammit.

‘Can you help us?’ the woman whispered, her voice so soft in my head that I almost missed the words.

I nodded.

Tears shimmered along the contours of her spectral face, and she hugged the child close, forcing a small smile to her lips. ‘You must find him. We are not the first, and if you don’t find him soon, we won’t be the last. Please hurry.’

Wait, I said aloud, reaching as the ethereal figures dissipated into nothingness.

Not the first ones? I hadn’t heard of another case like this in the area, and the thought that we had other bodies to find....

Detective Parsons? I looked over my shoulder to where he stood a few paces behind me.

Anything useful, Ms. Delante? He moved closer.

Maybe. I withheld the ghostly appearance. No sense in mentioning it without asking a question or two first. Is this the first murder like this in the area?

He scratched his head. To my knowledge, yes. Why do you ask?

Just a hunch. I moved toward the pile of limbs. Look at this. I pointed at the cleaved extremities haphazardly piled atop one another, like someone had spilled them out of a bucket. Something’s wrong with this, the way they’re arranged. Did our witness trip over them?

Yes. Parsons gave me a curious look. Mr. Geneer claims to have tripped over them while searching for.... What did you say the dog’s name was?

Icarus.

Yeah, when he was looking for Icarus, he fell over them. Didn’t touch them afterwards, just pulled out his cell and called us.

I grimaced. The visual with the breast had been vivid. What would happen if I touched the pile? Would it quell the feeling that there was something more? Wait, where are the hands and feet?

He gestured toward another part of the circle, closer to the heads. The missing pieces had been arranged to form one curved arc.

I need more information—pictures, statements, the coroner’s final assessment—before we’re done. Can you do that for me?

He nodded. Want me to ask around the other precincts? See if any of them have run into this guy?

Yeah, that’d be good.

Any specific timeframe I should consider?

I shrugged. Don’t know. Something recent, I’m guessing. I’d hate to think this is an annual ritual for this guy, that the only clues we get to play with is the evidence here, even if it means we get a year to solve it. The victims deserve better.

Yeah, Parsons agreed. Let me see what I can dig up. The rest I can have for you after you’re done reporting to Captain Brooks.

I smiled and wiped away the chilled sweat from my brow. I needed to get back to work, but he continued to stand next to me. You’re new to the precinct, right?

Is it that obvious? He grinned, running a hand through his hair.

You don’t come off as a newbie, detective status and all, but I haven’t seen you before. And I’ve been in Brooks’ office often enough that I’m pretty much on a first name basis with all his detectives. Your partner’s new, too. It’s odd.

What is?

That two new detectives would be partnered together in the same precinct.

We’re not quite that green, Ms. Delante. We’ve been with the precinct for a good six months, right after the Grey Phoenix case, and Brooks paired us off with Pauly and Simpson. After we acclimated, he let us be partners again. This is the first case we’ve worked together since we left Dale City.

I raised a brow. Virginia?

He smiled. It was unnerving and awkward.

Anyway, enough small talk. Let me get back to work. I turned away, sinking back into the cold ground.

You think you got something here?

Without looking up, I mused, Yeah, maybe I do. It’s not every day that some psychopath decides to decapitate his victims. I need more time with the evidence and the work-up. I should have something tangible for you by morning.

Detective Sully joined his partner and whispered something in his ear. They walked away, leaving me to do what I do best.

***

The ambulance pulled away as I sat in the front seat of my car. The remaining police officers rolled out behind it, until only Parsons and Sully remained at the crime scene.

I sighed, contemplating everything I’d seen. The arms and legs had been quiet, a discomforting development, as though the images had been muted. Even the blood surrounding them had told and shown me nothing. They had to have been removed postmortem. The victim would’ve had no conscious knowledge of the process, and therefore would not have left any psychic residue behind.

That explained the power behind the breast. She had to have been alive, but that put a damper on my theory. Would a mad man be sane enough to mangle a body without disturbing the head, only to decapitate it later? And how could he have torn the body into so many small pieces? I buried my head in my hands.

Feet crunched over the gravel. Ms. Delante?

I looked up at Parsons. The concern on his face caught me off guard. I’m fine.

Sully got into the car beside mine and waved.

I rolled my eyes. Are we ready to go?

Parsons nodded. You know how to get to the precinct from here, or would you rather follow us?

Brooks tell you I hate driving at night?

He smiled. Yeah.

It’s all right, Detective. I’ll find my way back.

You sure?

I chuckled. I may not like it, but I can do it.

Last chance, he offered.

I shooed him away, and he slid into the passenger seat of his car. They drove away, and I sat inside the safety of my own car until the last lights had faded, leaving me alone with the field, the moon and the bloody circular blemish of earth.

We aren’t the first ones, she’d said. And we won’t be the last.

More bodies. Yeah, that’s what we needed.

I stabbed the key into the ignition and started off toward the precinct.

Chapter 2 – Boundaries

Nothing?

Captain Ethan D. Brooks planted his massive hands atop his cluttered desk. You didn’t pull a damn thing—no name or face or even a tat—off that entire crime scene? Thick, bushy blonde brows furrowed over dark blue eyes in the middle of a reddening face.

I shook my head. "All I managed was bits and pieces. A big man attacked these two females, probably a mother and daughter, before he somehow tore them into pieces. Your forensics team will tell you the same thing when they present their report to you later