Triggered

By EP Jones

When a criminalist and forensic psychologist discovers the love of his life is recalling childhood sexual abuse, Will Roberts puts his career on hold to help Julie Annalise recover. However, as her therapy progresses, they find that her father, an eminent forensic scientist—and Will's mentor—may have been doing more than simply abusing his daughter.

Julie Annalise, who has multiple personalities, reveals through her alters that other men also abused her. As Will works the case with a detective friend, DNA obtained unofficially, pulls the FBI into the investigation. When the feds enter the case, it becomes clear that Julie's father, Dr Richard Allan Hirsch, is involved in other nefarious activities on a bi-coastal scale.

Triggered is a psychological thriller wrapped around an intense romance. This is Book One in the Dark Journey Series, with each volume pausing as Will and Julie Annalise uncover more of her dark past, while shining the light of truth and justice on the evil in the world.

Warning: This book contains graphic scenes depicting child abuse, rape, sexual torture and human trafficking. Survivors of such abuse may be triggered adversely by the content. Reader discretion is advised.

A note from the author: Triggered is part one in a continuing series. To better enjoy the full, rich and exciting detail of the characters and storyline, I recommend you read the books in order. Be sure to watch for volume two in the continuing Dark Journey Saga of Will Roberts Novels.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543988642

Book preview

Copyright © 2019

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN 978-1-54398-863-5 (print)

ISBN 978-1-54398-864-2 (eBook)

This book is dedicated to the many souls who’ve experienced the horrors of rape, domestic violence, child abuse or sex trafficking. May your healing journey be swift, and my you find the peace and love you deserve.

And to the brave warriors out there who fight the evil in this world, rescuing the wounded, while banishing demons, may God bless you for your efforts, and may His mighty angels shadow you as you cleanse the darkness, with light.

Caution: This novel contains sensitive material not suitable for all readers. Graphic scenes may adversely trigger survivors of rape, sexual abuse or human trafficking.

Life is not always as it seems, and appearances are often deceiving. We all keep secrets, even from those we love the most. But they can remain hidden only so long, until destiny intervenes by an act of fate, bringing them to the surface where they are slowly revealed by the light of love.

The Dark Journey begins….

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Epilog

Prologue

December Sixth

Click, click. Flashes blinded the young captive, trembling as the bearded man instructed, Say the rhyme, like we taught you.

Her hands shook as she read from the index card, her small voice quivering:

"Little Boy Blue, come b-blow your horn;

the s-sheep’s in the meadow, the cow’s in the corn.

But where is the boy who looks after the sheep?

He’s under the haystack, f-fast asleep."

Bravo, princess, you did well. He removed blue velvet knickers from the costumed child, her green eyes rounding with fear.

The other man tossed a lurid glance over her tender young body, fingers running through raven black tresses as he inhaled her sweet aroma. Let’s sample her female power once more before sending her to the Gods of the Otherworld.

The tiny girl screamed as the pair moved in.

A note from the author: This book is part one in a continuing series. To better enjoy the full, rich and exciting detail of the characters and storyline, I recommend you read the books in order. Be sure to watch for volume two in the continuing Dark Journey saga of Will Roberts Novels.

Chapter 1

December Seventh

Don’t let them get me again. I promise I’ll be a good girl.

Coiling her arms around her torso, she rocked as she tried to calm her young friend ‘inside’. Damn, little one, what’d they do to you? The things that flash through your mind freak me out. Brushing off a shiver, the older alter soothed, I know it’s December again, but I’ll protect you. Just… no more creepy rhymes. She switched off her iPod and stuffed it in a backpack. Making her way to the bedroom, she slipped it into a plastic tub in the corner of the closet. I can’t believe Julie never looks inside.

Glancing around the parking lot, Julie Annalise Hirsch realized she was at work. Night shift. I may not remember the drive, but at least I’m not late. Purse in hand, she headed into the State Crime Lab in Seattle, the forensics branch of the Washington State Patrol.

Working another double? Kenny greeted her from his tall stool near the mass spectrometer. I mean, you usually do when you start this shift.

I need to pay off student loans. Besides, I like the quiet here at night.

There’s some trace at your station with a rush on it. His eyes narrowed. You okay? You seem a little haggard.

I’m fine. Just tired. After the drive home to her small apartment the previous night, she’d looked forward to a hot shower and cozy bed. But Julie had no recall of falling asleep – or waking. Instead she felt hung over, a florescent band from a nightclub on her wrist. While she enjoyed an occasional glass of wine, Julie was appalled at the thought of being drunk. However, last night was a blur and today, her day off… I don’t remember any of it. Losing another chunk of time depressed her. Though she’d lived with it most of her life, her episodes were escalating.

Kenny interrupted her thoughts. Congrats on the promotion. You made Forensic Scientist Level Two faster than me. Under two years.

Thanks, she whispered as modest eyes avoided. It’s nice to have FS2 in my title and I love the lab, but I’d like to do more fieldwork.

It means spending time with that jackass, Baker. His eyes swept over her slender frame.

She buttoned her lab coat. Gerry may be cranky but I respect him as a supervisor. Julie actually liked Gerald Baker and was nice to him despite his terse behavior. Her kindness paid off, persuading her boss to take a closer look at her skills. You’re careful and methodical, she recalled his words. Have an artist’s eye for detail.

Kenny’s gaze fell back to his work. How’s training? What’s it been, four weeks?

About. Julie sat at her workstation. I love being with the Crime Scene Response Team, even if only on standby. Maybe something will open up soon.

The lab was quiet until the middle of the night. She looked up as the door bust open.

Hirsch, we’ve got a call. Gerry lumbered in. Get your butt in gear, we need to roll. Mark the time, 1:45 a.m.

Julie traded her lab coat for her parka and followed him to the van. What do we have?

Homeless guy tried to get out of this awful cold by trespassing in a vacant office. Stumbled over a child’s body. You haven’t been to a scene with a kid yet. Take things slow. I don’t want you to get emotional like you did at that rape-homicide last week. Child murders often include some element of molestation, so prepare yourself. Don’t cause another embarrassing scene, he growled.

What’s he talking about? Head throbbing, she tried to concentrate as they drove.

Gerry pulled the van between the maze of police cars and rescue units, finding a place near the coroner’s wagon. Twirling lights of red and blue reflected a surreal kaleidoscope on freshly fallen snow. Gear in hand, they headed toward the building.

She was aware Seattle PD had shared a multi-jurisdictional case with the FBI for years, investigating a set of child serial homicides. The feds used the State Crime Lab, including Gerry and his team to collect and process evidence. Wonder if this one of those murders? It’s the right time of year.

Homicide Detective Mark Johnson stopped them as they approached the door already marked with yellow crime scene tape. Evenin’. He tipped his Stetson to Julie. Gerry, we’ve got us another one. Serious and somber, Mark’s Texas drawl exaggerated his words. Appears to be asphyxiated. Lips are blue, cyanotic. Body was posed in costume, like the others.

Which rhyme did he pick this time? Baker questioned.

Little Boy Blue. Coroner has pronounced. She’s all yours.

Another girl?

Won’t know ‘til we look, but I assume so. They all are so far, even when it’s a boy rhyme. The cowboy took the lead to the door. I’m beginnin’ to hate December. He paused before entering and placed a hand on Julie’s shoulder. You ready for this, darlin’?

Trembling fingers tangled in her necklace. I guess we’re about to find out.

You know, Will asked me to look after ya while you’re here in Seattle. He worries ‘bout you seein’ this stuff. Wonders why you got into the field at all. Followin’ daddy’s footsteps?

I suppose—I really don’t know. Let’s go in, get started.

She loved Mark like a brother. He’d been raised in Washington State from the age of twelve, but all the years away from home hadn’t taken the Texas out of the cowboy, including his distinctive drawl. He was cliché in appearance, complete with felt hat, boots and thick, sandy-colored mustache. The picture-perfect cowboy except for the wire-rimmed glasses that rarely left his face.

You sure you wanna do this, Julie Anna? He peered over his spectacles.

I’m a man short tonight, Gerry barked. Let her do her job.

She questioned Mark about the footprints in the snow on the sidewalk.

There was only one set when patrolmen arrived. The homeless man’s in the fresh snow. The weather didn’t help us this time, darlin’.

They entered the rundown brick building that’d been abandoned to roaches.

No chance of shoe impressions here, either, Gerry noted.

The cowboy stared at the wet mess in the foyer. Paramedics and PD arrived on scene simultaneously. Didn’t know if the vic was dead or alive and didn’t waste time gettin’ to her.

Julie and her boss donned white hooded coveralls, paper booties and hung masks over their ears, then Mark led them down the hall to the left, stopping at a small room. Gerry entered first. Stepping around portable crime scene lights, his bulk blocked the view of the body. After snapping initial pictures he grumbled, How many more of these are we gonna see before we catch the bastard? I can’t stand seeing kids killed, especially the way this sick son of a bitch puts them on display. Pushing into Nitrile gloves, he squatted and opened his kit.

Hesitating in the doorway, Julie caught a glimpse of blue velvet or velour, and a blonde pageboy that had to be a wig. A haze moved before her eyes as she entered the room. The air felt thick. Its icy tendrils seemed to hold her back.

You okay, darlin’?

Mark’s words were distant as time warped. Light-headed, it was like looking through a tunnel, the corpse coming into full view as Julie approached. Posed on her stomach on a bale of hay, feet together, knees open, a horn of some kind was placed lewdly between the victim’s legs.

Mark noticed Julie stiffen. Arms snaked around her quivering torso, then she froze.

Little Boy Blue, she whispered in a childlike voice. Without warning, she shrieked and fainted, collapsing beside the body.

What in blazes? Mark shook her. Julie Anna?

Get her outta here, Gerry ordered. She’s messing up my crime scene.

Mark lifted her light and listless frame and carried her to the front of the building. Wake up, sweet thang. He snatched smelling salts from a paramedic’s kit.

Eyes flying open, she leapt to her feet. Get that damn thing out of my face.

Whoa, take it easy. He steadied her. You just passed out in there.

Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.

Julie seemed different to Mark. There was a fire in her eyes, a determination.

Wrenching free, she marched back into the building.

What the hell do you think you’re doing? her boss snarled.

Processing a crime scene. She tossed a sarcastic glance. That’s why I’m here, right?

Being rude and indignant was out of character for Julie Annalise. Worried about his friend, Mark stayed close. He watched her snap on gloves, snatch the camera from Gerry’s pudgy hands and take over looking for hair, fibers, any trace evidence that didn’t seem to belong to the young victim. Stepping around the body, she took pictures from different angles, watching the placement of her feet with obvious measured caution. Mark chuckled inside as he eyed Gerry who watched her work the tight space, probably relieved he no longer had to squeeze his bulging belly between the corpse and close walls.

We’re ready to turn her on her back, Julie directed. They rolled the body over, tried to stretch it out. Rigor’s beginning to show. The low ambient temperature in here will complicate determining time of death. Glad that’s not my call.

Dressed and posed after the assault, like the previous victims, her boss surmised.

This makes number six, Mark announced, another in a series of murders he and Gerry had seen in as many years. All were found a year apart, between the first and tenth of December.

She bled after he dressed her. Note the stains on the crotch of her costume. Is that something on her cheek, Julie? Julie?

Gerry’s question seemed to fall on deaf ears. She’d stopped processing and backed away from the corpse. Trembling legs buckled as she tripped over her crime scene kit. Mark rushed behind her, breaking the fall. You’re done here, and I’m not takin’ no for an answer. Hand on her back, he walked her out.

Shit. What’d that prick do to her?

Settle down. He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

I’ve got it. She shoved his hand away. Leave me the fuck alone.

In all his years of knowing Julie, Mark had only heard one or two mild cuss words come from her lips. Lots of folks would react this way to their first child homicide, but—it’s more than that. The cowboy had witnessed her having a milder reaction at a recent rape-homicide. She hadn’t passed out, but her demeanor had changed, revealing an anger that must’ve been dormant in this reticent young woman. They’d been friends long enough for him to know this was abnormal. It shouldn’t be the dead bodies that bothered her. She’d worked three homicides with him, one gang and two domestic, none with this reaction. What’s goin’ on with you, sweet thang?

You could’ve compromised evidence, Baker spit as he exited the scene. Get the hell outta here, you loon. Whatever’s up your ass take care of it or find another line of work.

There’s no call for that kind of talk. This is a lady you’re addressin’.

Mark had barely uttered his last word when Julie blasted, How’d you like something up your fat ass, see how it feels, you bastard.

Before Gerry could respond, Mark grabbed Julie and dragged her toward his issued vehicle. I’m drivin’ ya home now.

Just drop me at the lab. I’ve gotta have my wheels or I feel trapped.

Not tonight. That’s clear across town and roads are bad. I’ll get you to work in the mornin’… if they let you come back that soon.

What do you mean? she hissed in his face.

This is the second time you’ve freaked at a crime scene and your behavior tonight was pretty damn disturbin’. They may give you some time off while someone shrinks that pretty little head of yours.

They reached Mark’s Tahoe and she kicked the tire. Hard. Shit, it’s so unfair. She was just a little girl, like Jil—its not right.

I agree with ya there, sweet thang. It’s a crazy world we live in. Protective of his young friend, he’d known her since she was fifteen. He was a bit older, mid-thirties now, and she, twenty-four. They’d met with him being a friend of her brother, Jason, and family friend, Will Roberts. Jason played in his own band during college, Mark often subbing as drummer and Will on guitar. Being as close as family, Mark and Will were both protective if the Hirsch kids.

Julie lived in a low rent district, the ride home quick and silent. The cowboy pulled to the curb, catching her elbow before she could jump out. She’s actin’ like a rebellious teen. Maybe you should talk to someone. Ya know, call someone who cares? What about your dad? He’s worked a heap of scenes like this and—

I wouldn’t phone that prick if I was hemorrhaging and he had the last tourniquet on earth.

What the hell? Her father was renowned criminalist and forensics expert, Dr. Richard Allan Hirsch, former manager of the State Crime Lab in Spokane, before being forced into medical retirement two years ago. Wonder why she’s estranged from him? Then try your brother. I know you’re tight. Here, use my cell. He pulled it from his belt.

I’ve got mine on me. She eased her phone wallet from her coat pocket, keys dangling. But Jay Jay’s in New York with his publisher. It’s too early there.

Okay, try Will. He won’t mind ya bendin’ his ear.

The silence was thick for a long moment.

I don’t think he wants to talk to me. Her cheeks glowed strawberry under the streetlight as she shoved her cell back into her pocket.

Will had known Julie as long as Mark. Her mother had called her Anna, Will the only other person to do so, at Julie’s request. Mark smiled inside, understanding her nervous tension. Fine, I’ll do it for ya. He woke his best friend in Spokane. Hey buddy, how’s it hangin’?

You’d better be drunk or dying because it’s past three in the morning by my clock.

Partner, I’ve got a little lady here who just got shook up by an ugly crime scene. Needs to hear a friendly voice. Putting the phone on speaker, he shoved it in her face.

Deep crimson flowed down her neck.

Anna, you there?

Hiya. She gave the cowboy a dirty look and took the cell from his hand. Her obvious feelings for Will made it an awkward moment.

What’s up? Mark said something about a nasty crime scene?

Yeah, nasty crime scene, she parroted.

Tell me about it. Talking it through, helps.

Silence.

Okay, no pressure. I just want you to know you can call me anytime, day or night, he sang with a chuckle. Where are you now?

She grinned. Tex here is holdin’ me hostage in his issued vehicle, she mimicked Mark’s drawl. Ain’t that against the law or somethin’?

Will snickered. Let me see if I can do some hostage negotiating. Arrange for your safe release.

Careful. He can be dangerous with that tin star and six-shooter.

Make that a fifteen-shooter, if you please. Mark referenced his duty weapon, a Sig. P226. Gimme back the phone, darlin’.

Bye, Boy Scout, she gave a sultry whisper.

Call me sometime—soon, the sound of sweet concern flowed from the phone.

Love-struck. The cowboy shook his head. They’re a perfect match. Why won’t she let him in? Mark took the cell from her hand. Let me get this pretty young thang into her apartment then I’ll call ya back, buddy. He returned the phone to his hip.

Gonna talk about me behind my back? I thought you guys were my friends? She slammed her door as they exited the vehicle.

Not sure if she was teasing, Mark insisted on walking her to the door. You should move to a better neighborhood, darlin’. This place is high crime.

I can’t afford it. Besides, I’ve got a weapon, too, Tex.

That’s a scary thought. Ya know how to use it, proper like?

Bet I could shoot circles around you. She cocked a brow.

Let’s hope we don’t have to find out ‘bout that anytime soon. Now, in ya go and lock up. Let me know when you wanna get your car back. And call me… or Will if you need ta talk. Promise.

Whatever, she sassed then softened, Thanks, cowboy.

He gave a tender hug. No problem. Night now.

In the shadow of thick foliage he stood beneath a burned out streetlight. He tapped his pipe on cold steel before patiently repacking it. A soft glow was visible only for the moment he lit up. The fragrance of cherry-almond drifted through icy night air. Watching Julie Annalise being escorted to her apartment made his jealousy flare. He’d waited years for their inevitable reunion. The wait would be over—soon.

Chapter 2

Will paced as he waited for Mark’s return call. He’d come to know Anna and her brother, Jason, when he interned for their father at the State Crime Lab in the Spokane area. Will became a fixture in the Hirsch home his first five years on the job, and on occasion thereafter, discussing evidence, technique, and processing over dinner. Only twenty when Richard took an interest in him, Will, a boy genius, was in his fifth year of college with multiple degrees under his belt.

His love for the Hirsch kids grew to that of his own siblings. Having lost their mother, both Jason and Anna craved nurturing, something their father seemed incapable of.

Anna was a child when Will first met her. He was drawn to her innocence. Sweet and quiet, she was sad most of the time. It broke his heart not understanding why. Will made an extra effort to cheer her up, hoping to catch a rare glimpse of her enchanting smile.

His fondness grew, and by the time she’d graduated high school, his mad crush was difficult to disguise. Will dare not act on it, being nine and a half years her senior. But like a fine wine, love fermented to something so robust, it could no longer be denied.

The buzz of his cell drew him from his thoughts.

Hey, buddy, sorry to wake ya like that, but she did it again and this time was far worse.

What do you mean, Mark? Will forced a swallow.

Victim was a kid. Julie Anna had like—a delayed reaction when she saw the dead girl. Seemed okay at first, then suddenly screamed, sounding like a child herself, and passed out. Funny thing though… when she came to, she was different. Sort of belligerent like at the last scene. You heard her swear much, partner?

Once or twice. Mostly in reference to her dad.

Well, she was really fired up. Had a terrified look in her eye. Second time now, both at rape-homicides. Ya think this could be PTSD? Could she have been—assaulted some time?

Damn, I hope not. Will called upon his psychological training. But the reactions fit. Tell me more about tonight. He sat on his bed.

Buddy, we have our sixth Nursery Rhyme Murder. Looks to be six or seven. So damn tiny. Dressed like Little Boy Blue. And her face… she could be a sister to the others. Same MO, same perp, we’re sure. I’m pullin’ back up to the scene. Need ta check in since I made my little detour to Julie’s place. She lives way too close to where this happened.

Will rubbed the back of his neck. Wish I could get her out of that hell hole. Out of Seattle all together.

Partner, her supervisor made a crude comment tonight. Ya know how Gerry is, talks more like a cop than me. She pushed back with an equally displeasin’ remark, but her reaction was way off scale. The girl erupted like St. Helens. I drug her away before the pyroclastic flow incinerated her short career.

Will listened as Mark explained the heated exchange. Grinning, he recalled the few occasions he’d seen Anna morph into a sparky firecracker. He felt his smile melt as he realized how truly out of character it was for her.

Gotta run, Mark rushed. FBI’s finally arrived on scene.

Will’s heart ached. He’d pushed back feelings for years, even through a brief and failed marriage. But now he’d focus on Anna. It wasn’t enough to have his boyhood friend keep an eye on her. Will wanted her back in Spokane, her childhood home, to look after her himself. Even if she only saw him as another big brother, he’d be sure she was safe and cared for. Besides, maybe, just maybe… having waited long enough, he was ready to give love a fighting chance.

She slew monsters on her PlayStation with alternative music blasting through the earbuds of her iPod. The creatures on the screen were hideous surrogates for the ones she tried to defeat in her head. As night faded, the older ‘alter’ welcomed the safety of dawn. Sleep finally overtook her at seven, only to be chased away by a call from work at ten.

Julie Annalise had no idea why Gerry was angry, and had no memory of the things he talked about—passing out, cursing at him, being disrespectful. She’d keep the appointment with the department psychologist he’d made for later that day, willing to do anything to keep her job. Now, why had she slept in her clothes, in the living room, again?

Will phoned her brother in New York, sharing concerns about Anna.

Is she okay? Jason didn’t wait for a reply. My publisher has me pushing my latest novel, but I can be back in Seattle tomorrow.

Mark already checked on her. Said she’s fine. He drove her to her car earlier. Don’t cut your trip short, but you may want to give her a call. Will hesitated. Can you think of anything from her childhood that’d cause post-traumatic stress? With a PhD in forensic psychology, Will made sure his young friend understood what that was.

Maybe when Mom died. Neither of us ever got over it. We were so close, and after the accident, well, you know what a cold fish Dad is.

That had to be horrible, but I doubt it’d cause the bizarre symptoms your sister’s plagued with now. Can you think of something more recent, more… personal?

Nothing, man, but I have to admit I’ve neglected her lately. I’ve been busy trying to juggle time between this book tour and being at home with Heather and the kids.

Something’s not right. Will didn’t mask his concern. I’m worried about Anna.

After her psych eval, Julie Annalise put her goal of becoming a member of the CSRT on hold and resigned herself to life as a lab tech. Later that week she was pleasantly surprised by yet another call from Will. His third.

How are you feeling, sunshine?

I’m fine, really. You’re so sweet to check on me.

I care about you, Anna, he breathed. Mark told me the department shrink put you on an antidepressant. Has it helped?

I don’t know why she has me taking those silly pills. I’m not depressed.

Mark thinks you are. Said he had you over for dinner and his wife noticed, too. Is there something you’d like to talk about? You can tell me anything, you know.

Nervous fingers tangled in her necklace. I’m a little disappointed learning I’m not cut out for fieldwork. But I’ll get over it. She was glad he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

Something else is bothering you. I hear it in your voice.

Should I tell him? It’s just that, I get nagging headaches sometimes. And Will….

What is it?

He’ll think I’m crazy. Never mind.

Come on, what were you going to say?

Nothing, I-I forgot, she whispered the lie, not ready to tell him about losing time.

Okay. Call me if you’d like to talk. You don’t have to have a reason. And Anna?

Yes, Will?

Take care.

Depression consumed her as the months wore on. She told herself she loved her job, and some days even believed it. Anna continued taking her med as prescribed. Though it helped a little, it definitely did nothing for the agonizing headaches that tormented her, growing in both frequency and intensity.

Talks with Will became the highlight of her week. They began stilted—she was painfully shy—but by the end of each, he had her laughing and comfortable. She felt Will was being a little more than a friend. However, she wouldn’t allow herself to believe he might be interested in a skinny, nerdy, lab rat like her.

Thoughts of Anna consumed Will. Calls to check on her became a way to slowly reveal his feelings. He was troubled by comments she made about herself, as if she was unattractive. She’s stunning, he mused as he envisioned her raven hair, smattered with red highlights that often made it appear dark auburn. And her blazing emerald eyes…. She’s the image of a goddess, but carries herself like a leper.

I love her sweet disposition, but she’s so quiet and withdrawn, almost stoic. Seems a paradox, considering there are rare occasions when she’s rambunctious and playful. Anna was a complex woman, one Will had a hard time figuring out. The mystery added to her sensuality.

He’d waited for an opening in the Spokane lab, a place where he could take an active role in looking after her. Fate was on his side when one of his techs became pregnant. In April she put in for maternity leave effective late summer. Will made arrangements with Jason to meet in Seattle for Anna’s birthday celebration in May to make the job offer in person.

Are things ready? She knows we’re coming, right? I mean she has the day off? Pacing his office, Will could almost feel Jason grin on the other end of the line.

All set, dude. She didn’t want us to make a fuss, but I insisted it’s my privilege as her brother. She sounded excited about the whole thing. Especially seeing you, man.

Will stopped mid-step. Really?

Yep. When I told her you were coming all the way from Spokane, she perked up.

A smile twisted Will’s lips. Anna was so hard to read over the phone. He couldn’t tell if he was too forward, calling so often, and had no idea if she’d be interested in an older man, divorced, at that. Still, he allowed a spark of hope to flicker. Okay, see you Monday.

The foursome met for lunch on a breezy Seattle afternoon. Will knew Anna preferred being a wallflower, but today, she was the rose in the vase.

Happy birthday, darlin’. Mark kissed her cheek as he squeezed his six-foot, four-inch frame in the booth next to her. Removing his Stetson, he reached across the table and shook the men’s hands.

What, no kiss for me? Jason batted his eyelashes at the cowboy.

That’s mighty temptin’, but my wife might get a tad jealous.

Hand beside his mouth, Jason gave a loud whisper, She’d never have to know. As Mark shook his head, Jason turned to Will. Cargo pants? We’re hiking a park later, not the Serengeti. He patted Will’s thigh. Hey, you got something in those bulging pockets, or are you just happy to see me?

Nitrile gloves, collection bags, swabs, Swiss knife—

So you’re a walking crime scene kit?

Will gave a three-finger salute. Boy Scouts are always prepared.

They had Julie Annalise in stitches, Will happy to hear her laugh.

I’m gonna miss the sea breeze. Jason gazed out the window.

What do ya mean, partner?

I’m moving my family to Ellensburg. We’re going to try the small town feel.

Nice place to raise your brood, the cowboy noted.

Lunch arrived and the collective mood remained light, happy as they ate.

After finishing his sandwich, Will asked Mark, Whatever happened with the Little Boy Blue murder?

Julie set her fork down.

Not much. Like the others, this guy leaves us nothin’ ta go on. But it’s the same perp— He stopped, all eyes falling on Julie Annalise as she cringed and put her hand to her head.

What is it? Will studied her face.

She seemed to struggle to find her voice, Just a headache, I’ll be fine.

Mark and Will exchanged knowing glances, Will adding another piece to the puzzle in his mind.

Jason appeared oblivious as he offered her ibuprofen.

You carry that in your jacket? The cowboy raised a bushy brow.

Jason exaggerated a frown. I didn’t have a purse to match these shoes.

Maybe I should buy ya one. Mark winked.

Awe, thanks, Tex. I adore your big blue eyes. Jason reached for his hand.

Mark pulled it back and checked his watch. Darlin’, I have ta get back to work. Happy Birthday. He kissed Julie Anna’s cheek and left.

The trio continued their planned hike at a nearby park and made their way to a small lake.

Anna, I’ve been thinking, with Jason moving next week maybe you should consider leaving the city, too. They sat on a rock by the water. There’ll be an opening in my lab August first. Will gave details. I need someone reliable to fill her shoes. Think you could lend a hand? He flashed his trademark-charming smile, heart warming as Anna’s cheeks glowed.

She’ll come back for her job after maternity leave, won’t she?

Yes, however, my senior lab tech is due to retire in December. You could move right in and fill the void. Will had the pull to make it happen, being the day shift supervisor of the lab, instructor for all training, and in charge of the CSRT at the Spokane branch of the Washington State Patrol’s crime lab, located in the college town of Cheney. An expert in ballistics, firearms and tool marks, as well as microanalysis and trace, Will also possessed the mind of a true investigator. He’d been offered promotions in administration, but opted to stay in the field where he felt most useful.

It’s a great idea, Jason encouraged. You’d be back in your old stompin’ grounds, Sis.

Will scooted closer. It’d be nice to have a friendly face smiling at you every day, wouldn’t it? But if you prefer Gerry…. He winked.

Jason held his hands in front of him, palms up, as if they were scales juggling the options. Hmm, super charming cute dude, or fat grumpy old guy. Which will she choose?

The day had been fun, and moving closer to Will.... Okay, where do I sign up? Both happy and anxious, she was excited to get away from her irritable supervisor and work for this sweet, kind man. A handsome one at that.

Anna wanted to run her hands through his thick, honey-colored waves as his bright green eyes locked with hers. Instead, she allowed her gaze to drift over him. Dr. William Jacob Roberts, a true gentleman. At six-foot, two, he kept himself chiseled, sexy. Although humble by nature, Will was often the center of attention due to his genuine character, boyish charm, and staggering good looks. Everyone loves Will. Anna drew in a breath. I think I do, too.

You won’t regret this. Will took her hand. I know it won’t happen for a while, but give notice now, effective July twenty-seventh. It’s a Friday. Jason and I can move you over the weekend. You’ll have a few days to settle in, and start work Wednesday, August first. He noticed moist palms as she laced her fingers in his.

Dude, Jason questioned, you know what day of the week August first falls on? That’s months away.

Will penetrated Anna’s gaze. For something this important I do.

A blush flowed down her neck.

Besides, Will continued, its Lughnasadh. I always know what day of the week the seasonal observances fall on.

The first harvest, Jason noted. Mom followed the Celtic Wheel of the Year.

Will cocked his head. But your father doesn’t seem to have a spiritual bone in his body.

He doesn’t. May, our nanny, continued to teach us after Mom’s death. Mostly behind Dad’s back.

I don’t recall much of that. Anna rubbed her temple. I barely remember Mother’s Jewish teachings.

I’ve always thought it strange they share the same spiritual dichotomy as me. Will’s eyes shifted between the siblings. What are the odds?

Ann pushed to her feet. We still have time for the north trail around the lake if you guys are up for it.

Will held her hand as they walked, optimistic this was the beginning he’d hoped for.

He shadowed them as they hiked, spying from the woods. The day was beautiful. The water sparkled like her eyes. Then she ruined it by letting that golden boy touch her. Still, she was moving home to Spokane, back to where their sweet, sensual memories were made. Was she thinking of him now? Did she long for their reunion as much as he? He knew she’d enjoyed their earlier years together, and soon, they’d find each other again. He’d make sure.

Chapter 3

Will moved Anna into a nice apartment in Spokane, managed by a muscular ex-cop named, Tyrone. Will checked on her daily until her new job began. Handing out work assignments, he walked up behind her to say hello and she jumped off her stool.

First day jitters? He chuckled.

I suppose so. Silly, isn’t it? I know my job. It’s just—the new location.

Give yourself a day or two to settle in, get to know everyone.

By the end of the week, she had. They danced around each other in the lab. Will had to be sure not to let anyone know how he felt about Anna. The Washington State Patrol had a strict policy about employees fraternizing. Coffee breaks and lunches became the preferred vehicle for reviewing lab results. And a way to spend more personal time together.

One day while discussing a case at a diner she asked, Could I try fieldwork again?

It didn’t seem to agree with you when you tried it Seattle.

I don’t recall it being that bad. Fingers twisted Anna’s necklace.

It’s one thing to process evidence, even a body with the M.E., but on the streets... if there are murders, you handle the corpse as it’s found. And rapes? You deal with the victims, living or dead. It’s not easy for me, and I’ve done it for years. Why do you want to go there?

Why do you do it? tone serious, she avoided his gaze.

Because victims deserve a chance at justice. In the field I can evaluate the scene. Get a better sense of what happened so I can testify clearly for the victims in court, if necessary.

She looked him dead in the eye. That’s exactly why I want to be in the field.

Anna tried to read him. Is he being protective or doesn’t feel I’m good enough?

I thought you enjoyed being a lab rat, he teased. You’re so good at it.

I do like my work. Pondering a moment, she was confused by her own request. The lab felt safe, but something drove her to ask for fieldwork again. Something that made her uneasy inside. Something that made her head throb.

Is your firearms qualification current? It’s not mandatory, but I prefer team members have it in the field.

I think so. Anna was uncomfortable with guns. Still, she had a weapon and a proficiency certificate, but no memory of how the latter was obtained. Wonder if it’s current? She rubbed her temple as a haunting internal voice verified, it was.

Are you all right? Will eased closer.

Just one of my headaches. The therapist in Seattle thought they might be migraines, so I went to a neurologist. He said they weren’t and did an MRI with contrast looking for tumors, blocked vessels, you name it, and found nothing.

Do you take anything for them?

Yes, no—sometimes. I really don’t like medicine. It scares me.

Voice lowered, he pushed, Are you still on the antidepressant?

Looking down at the salad she’d barely touched, Anna gave a nod.

Don’t feel bad. In our line of work, well, there’ve been times I could’ve used some of those happy pills myself. He forced a chuckle.

Anna’s bleak smile faded, then she stared into space. Will, I get frightened sometimes.

He held her hand and waited.

The pain can be unbearable and— She trembled. I’m sorry. I have an officer coming for lab results in an hour and need to finish my report.

Clearly an excuse, he let it go. Promise we can talk about this, soon?

She promised weakly, her evasiveness concerning him all the more.

Catching a call at the end of shift, Will had to work late. Worried about Anna, he pushed paperwork aside and phoned Mark for a friendly ear. How’s it going with your big case?

The Nursery Rhyme Murders? Nothin’ new. But the feds are bein’ stingy with their info. I suspect they know more than they’re sharin’. How’s our little gal?

She’s getting headaches more often, and they go hand-in-hand with PTSD, like her depression, memory problems, emotional outbursts—the way she reacted at the Seattle crime scenes. And being withdrawn… but she’s always been timid, even as a kid.

Could the trauma go back that far, partner?

I asked Jason. He was clueless. But victims stuff things, sometimes for years. The longer they do, the more it destroys them from the inside, out. I need to find a way to help her uncover the cause of her symptoms. Make sure she’s okay. He put his feet on his desk. I want her to be well, be happy. But when I try to talk about it, she changes the subject. Think I’ll take her to dinner again soon, away from the call of work and see if I can get her to open up a little more.

If anyone could, it’d be you, buddy.

They’d worked together for weeks. Will spent extra time with Anna, being the friend he always was, but he also made his feelings for her clear. He wondered why she appeared be hiding how deep the waters ran. Good at reading people, he was sure the glimpses he saw were an indication of hope for a future together. He stepped things up, making their conversations more intimate. She grew more comfortable by the day. More than comfortable, according to his gut. But Anna was so shy.

When she asked about fieldwork again, he relented and took her out part-time on non-violent scenes. In early September he was short-handed, with no choice but to take her to a murder-suicide. They talked as he drove.

You sure you’re ready? He noted flashing lights outside the house down the block.

Will, this really is what I want to do.

This case will be more graphic than others we’ve covered. The sights, smells... promise you’ll tell me if anything makes you uneasy.

I’ll be okay.

They pulled to the curb, donned coveralls and disposable booties, then entered the residence, kits in hand. The house was in an upper-middle class neighborhood, two streets from where she’d grown up. Will noticed the layout was similar to her childhood home. He worried the irony would add to the eerie scene.

The first victim was a female white in her mid-forties. Seated at the kitchen table, her head listed to the left, face missing. Light shown through the back of her head, brain matter splattered on the cabinets beyond. Though there was no sign of the weapon that’d blasted a hole through the woman’s skull, cause and manner of death seemed clear. Will observed as Anna snapped on protective gloves, which she changed after making each collection to avoid cross-contamination. She processed the scene professionally, efficiently, the way he would. Will was impressed by her skills and the fact she didn’t seem squeamish, though she did appear unusually detached.

Finished in the kitchen, the pair, directed by a detective, moved toward the basement. Anna hesitated on the top step and Will put a hand on her shoulder. What is it?

She shivered. Something about basements. They’re creepy.

Descending the stairs, they found a second victim hanging from the rafters by a white cotton rope, urine pooled on the concrete beneath, a chair toppled on its side. A shotgun stood in the corner. The middle-aged man, identified by the detective as husband to the woman upstairs, apparently shot her, then took his own life.

Will watched Anna for signs of emotional upset, but so far, saw none. They photographed the body first, while hanging, and again, after cutting him down. Swabbing for gunshot residue, they also searched for other trace evidence.

With the corpse bagged and removed for autopsy, they’d just begun processing the room when the detective called Will to the main level.

Be right back. He tossed Anna a wink. Keep up the good work.

Minutes later, a child-like scream rose from the basement. Will ran to the landing, finding darkness below. You said the house was clear, he hissed at the officer by his side.

It is. I checked every room myself and this is the only way down there. Maybe she fell.

The switch produced no light, so Will ripped open his coveralls, pulled the mini-Mag from his belt, and took the stairs two at a time, detective at his heel. Anna, where are you?

There was no response, only thick darkness mixed with the pungent odor of urine and feces.

Answer me, honey. It’s Will.

Silence was his reply.

Jabbing his flashlight in the far corner, he guided its beam around the perimeter of the cluttered room, coming full circle at the space beneath the stairs, where he spotted her. Crouched in a fetal position, she didn’t react to the light he flashed in her eyes.

She all right?

Ignoring the officer, Will knelt and brushed hair from Anna’s sweaty brow. Sweetheart, what’s wrong?

I’m ascared of the dark, Uncle Will, a tiny voice squeaked.

What the? She hasn’t called me that since she was twelve. He helped her to her feet. You’re safe. The bulb just burned out. Let’s get you upstairs.

She tried to take a step but shook so hard she couldn’t walk.

Scooping up her light frame, he carried her straight to the mobile lab van, ignoring looks and questions from the uni’s on scene.

Will put her in the seat, where she curled in a ball and stared into space. He checked her pulse and respiration. A little fast. She’s pale. Shocky. I need to take her home, but can’t abandon the scene. Realizing he had no choice, he uttered, I have to finish processing, babe. Will pealed off and bagged her gloves and paper booties. Just rest until I get back.

He grabbed a patrolman who was keeping the neighbors at bay. My partner’s sick. Watch her while I finish up. Find me if she needs me—or tries to get out of the van.

The officer raised a brow.

Finishing in record time, Will loaded bags of evidence into the van, then opened the door of the cab. She’d fallen asleep, thumb in her mouth. He touched her shoulder. Wake up, babe.

Her lids fluttered, then lifted. Oh my gosh. She grabbed her head with both hands.

Take it slow. Will helped her sit up.

Are we done? her weak voice seemed to fish for information.

Yes, honey. Do you remember what happened in there?

Umm… we finished on the main level, then moved to the basement. Her eyes darted side-to-side. "There was a DB hanging, then… we processed the