Web of Secrets

By D.F. Hart

So many to choose from…
Someone’s killing one college co-ed a month in North Texas.
A predator with exacting tastes uses technology to select his targets.
…So little time…
Detective Joe Wallace and BAU agent Nathan Thomas see his pattern – But they’re scrambling to figure out his selection methods.
How many victims will he add to his collection before he’s stopped?

Vital Secrets is a suspenseful crime thriller series chronicling FBI profiler Nathan Thomas and his team's cases, who capture serial killers while also juggling their personal and professional lives. While each suspenseful, riveting title in this series can be read as a standalone, readers will find maximum enjoyment if these full-length books are read in order - because while there are no cliffhangers, there is character growth over the series. If you enjoy the works of Elle Gray, Mary Burton, Lucinda Berry, Melinda Leigh and Pete Zacharias, the Vital Secrets series should make for a very enjoyable read!

Web of Secrets is perfect for readers who enjoy fast-paced, action-filled crime thriller novels that are brimming with unexpected twists and turns and feature FBI profilers.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: 2 of Harts Publishing
• Release date: Sep 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781952008009

D.F. Hart

Greetings from Texas! I have my MBA with Accounting concentration and that's my "day job" - I'm an Accounting Manager. I've been in that line of work in multiple industries for over twenty years now. I like it, and it pays the bills.  However, it's a far cry from my passion (and originally intended path), which was to be a writer who also perhaps taught Shakespeare at a university somewhere.  Fate, it seems, has a sense of humor.  But given that I'm not yet dead, I realize I still can chase that passion of mine in some form or fashion. So, I write. And read. And try my best to absorb as many lessons as I can from those who traveled this road to becoming a solid author before me. When I am not crunching numbers, writing, or reading, I love to play hidden object and puzzle games - Anything with a good mystery story line!

Book preview

D.F. Hart

The Vital Secrets Series

Wall of Secrets (prequel)

Book of Secrets

List of Secrets

Web of Secrets

Path of Secrets

Carnival of Secrets

House of Secrets

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COPYRIGHT

Copyright © 2020 by D.F. Hart

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020903380

ISBN: Softcover 978-1-7330-454-9-0

eBook 978-1-852008-00-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Custom Cover Design commissioned for D.F. Hart’s Vital Secrets Series by:

Rocking Book Covers

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Published 4/24/20 by 2 Of Harts Publishing

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To my patient and supportive husband Rick, for whom I am thankful every day.

To my proofreader and sounding board, my mom, K.W. Branzell, who is one of my biggest cheerleaders.

To Mr. Adam Croft, whose mentorship, encouragement and sound advice is priceless.

To Anita, who keeps me grounded and cheers me on from the other side of the globe.

To Mr. Rob Keating, who is always willing to answer any questions I have about judicial procedure, even the dumb ones, with grace and humor.

And last but certainly not least, to my Hart’s Heroes reader team, whose support means more than you’ll ever, ever know.

Now, come take a journey with me.

Warm Regards,

D.F. Hart

PROLOGUE

People will say I’m crazy. Evil. All manner of things, I suppose.

But then, people always say bad things like that about great artists and men of vision.

I do not care. I do not listen to them.

I know my purpose, and once it’s fulfilled, I can go.

Twelve. There must be twelve. No more, no less, or the dream won’t be properly realized.

It might take some time. I know all too well the perfect twelve will have to be sought out.

I will know the twelve when I see them.

And I will make them mine.

CHAPTER ONE

After a long and gut-wrenching day of testimony in the Samantha Kennard trial, Detective Lizzie Zimmerman walked alongside Samantha’s ex-boyfriend, Donny Atherton, as they went for coffee. It had been almost a year since Samantha had been captured and her brother shot and killed, but for Donny, the pain was as fresh as if it had all happened yesterday.

Lizzie was trying her best to compartmentalize and not show it, but it felt fresh for her too. The man she’d been involved with, had fallen in love with, that she knew as Landon Kendal, had turned out to be Lenny Kennard, Samantha’s brother.

As they strolled down the sidewalk, neither had much to say. Both were still raw and reeling from their emotionally charged turns in the witness box.  Then Lizzie pointed ahead and slightly to the right. I believe it’s just down there.

A cheerful wave and a bubbly, Hi there! Find a spot anywhere you like, I’ll be right over! came to them from the waitress as they stepped over the threshold into Nana’s Café. Lizzie led the way to a booth, and not long after, the waitress came over with two menus.

What can I get you folks to drink? she asked.

Coffee for me, please, said Lizzie.

Make it two, Donny chimed in.

I’ll be right back with those. You want some water too?

Two nodding heads confirmed her supposition, and she left to go fulfill their drink order.

Lizzie glanced at the menu. I know I need to eat something, but I’m not that hungry.

Man, I know that feeling, Donny muttered. I think I’m going to order the chicken fried steak anyway. If I have to force myself to eat something, it might as well be good old southern comfort food.

I know, right? There are things down here in Texas you just take for granted until you move away.

Donny smiled for the first time since he took the witness stand. Yep, he told her. Like Whataburger. And Blue Bell ice cream. Lord, I used to put away the Blue Bell. My mom used to get frustrated with me; I’d have gone through a half-gallon a day by myself, if she’d have let me.

Lizzie laughed. And sweet tea. Down here, it’s a given. Other places, your choices are unsweet, and, let’s see, unsweet and there’s the sugar packets.

Exactly! he agreed. And it never tastes the same when you do it yourself.

Nope.

The waitress came back with their coffees and ice waters, and asked, Okay, folks, do we know what we want to order?

I’d like the chicken fried steak, please, Donny answered.

I will too, but, no cream gravy for me, please, Lizzie stated.

Donny looked at her. You’re a native Texan and you don’t like cream gravy?

I know, I know, Lizzie hunched her shoulders. I’m weird like that. My dad used to tease me about it.

It’s not as uncommon as you think, hon, the waitress interjected with a chuckle. I’m not a big fan of it either.

See? Lizzie was triumphant. I’m not the only one.

Donny’s grin was sheepish. I stand corrected.

Well, my name’s Sherrie, and I will get this order in for you two. You want rolls before the meal or with the meal?

Donny and Lizzie exchanged glances, then answered before in unison.

You got it. I’ll be right back. And Sherrie collected the menus and walked away. They’d barely had time to unfold their napkins when she returned with a basket of freshly baked cloverleaf rolls and some butter.

Aw, man, those smell so good, Donny closed his eyes for just a moment before helping himself to one. Having to watch my bread intake was one of the hardest things for me when I was in training.

I personally couldn’t do it, Lizzie told him as she spread butter on her roll. "I tried one of those diets once with no or low carbs. Was not a happy person to be around. My partner, Tank, gave me hell about it. ‘Damn, Zim, what are you thinkin’, girl, you know you’re cranky enough as it is’. Stuff like that," Lizzie mimicked her detective partner David’s deep booming voice as she repeated his words. And she noticed how Donny’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

What? she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Nothing, Donny said. That was just, well, hilarious. Little tiny thing like you throwing out this big huge deep voice suddenly.

Oh, she replied, shifting in her seat, a grin coming to her lips. I suppose that was a bit odd, huh?

But funny, he agreed. His first name is really Tank?

It’s a nickname I gave him, she answered. He’s this great big huge guy. We met at the Academy, and I mentioned he was built like a tank, and it stuck. But he gives it right back. Calls me ‘SWG’.

What’s that stand for?

Skinny white girl.

Nice, Donny laughed.

Sherrie arrived at that moment and set their food in front of them. Here you go, guys. Anything else you need?

I’m good, Lizzie told her, then to Donny, what about you?

All set here, thanks, Sherrie.

All right then. Enjoy. I’ll be back around in a while to check on you.

They settled in to do just that, and in between bites, Donny and Lizzie chatted a bit, about normal things.

So. Olympic skier. How’d you end up there, being from Texas?

He laughed. The first time my family took me skiing I was four, and I just took to it right away. I remember getting really mad they wouldn’t let me tackle the ‘grown-up’ slopes right off the bat. Over the next couple of trips my parents realized I loved it and was good at it, so, they made the commitment to get me up on skis as much as possible, but we couldn’t just pack up and relocate. With their jobs, that wasn’t an option. It was really interesting for a while, focusing so much on a sport I loved but living in a state without regular snowfall.

So how did you manage it?

Well, off-peak times you focus more on conditioning and strength training. A lot of it is driven by how good training conditions are. For example, if your primary on-snow training location gets record shortfalls in a season, you have to adjust.

Good to know.

How about you? You live in Seattle, right?

Yep. My mom moved me up there when I was twelve, Lizzie answered, in a tone that let Donny know it was not a happy memory.

An awkward silence lingered for a time.

He cleared his throat. "So, um, back to the elephant in the room, I guess. We’ve testified. What now? Before today, the last time I was even in a courtroom I was on the jury on, well, you know. Samantha’s dad’s case."

We’ll need to check in with D.A. Rogers and make sure, but I think since we are done testifying, we’ll be able to go home, so long as we’re prepared to come back if we get recalled. That’s been my experience in a state or local case, anyway. Federal may be different, which is why I want to ask about it.

She leaned forward slightly, making eye contact. Donny, I want you to know, I totally get how hard today was for you. Not only having to testify but seeing her again. That was the first time since you found the list, right?

Donny’s eyes clouded with pain. Yes, it was. And I know today wasn’t easy on you either. I can see it all over your face.

Lizzie sighed. No. It wasn’t, she admitted. "Him dying, or not being who I thought he was - either one on its own would have been hard enough to get through. But both, at once? Yeah, it’s been hard. I keep thinking of him and referring to him as Landon, and it’s a tough habit to break. It had gotten better lately. I thought I was getting by all right, until today. Today just churned it all up again."

Makes you never want to trust again, he said solemnly.

Absolutely, was her heartfelt response.

They looked at each other a long moment.

Well, we’d better get moving, Lizzie announced. Get back before they let out for the day so we can catch the DA.

She signaled to Sherrie, who brought over the bill.

I’ve got this, Donny insisted, as a thanks for listening, and for the company. Even if you don’t like cream gravy. And he gave her a gentle smile.

Fine. But if you’re in Seattle someday, give me a shout. We’ll have dinner, on me. Okay?

Deal.

***

Eighteen days later, Nathan Thomas was preparing to head out to Dallas for his turn in the witness stand.

How long will you be down there? Bella asked him.

Nathan shrugged as he set his suitcase on the bed, opened it, and moved to the dresser to start packing. Not sure. With multiple murders tied into one case, it could be a couple of days, or it could stretch into two or three weeks, I just don’t know. Hey! I have an idea, he exclaimed. Why don’t you and Charlie come with me? You know Jandy and Faith would love to see you two, and you can visit with them while I’m in court.

You know what? Yes. I would love that. Been feeling like I am in a rut lately since I got my degree finished, Bella answered with feeling. Not to mention, we have no family here.

He stiffened.

What?

Well, he began, turning slowly toward her, it’s interesting you should say that. I found out something at work yesterday, and I was planning on talking to you about it to get your opinion, but I wasn’t sure when to bring it up.

She sat on the bed. Now’s an excellent time. Shoot.

The Behavioral Analysis liaison in the Dallas office announced he is retiring this year, and they approached me and asked if I’d like to take the spot, since I have family down there.

What would you be doing?

Pretty much the same thing as here, only more focused to cases in about 170 counties, all within north, east and west Texas. I’d coordinate any BAU involvement with the Dallas office’s twelve satellite offices, as well. I’m thinking a lot less travel. But, he continued, as he sat beside her and took her hand, "we’re a team, and I want any move we make to be what’s best for both of us, and for Charlie."

Honestly, Nathan? I still want to work with kids, and I’d still like to teach languages. I just don’t know if I still want to be involved with teaching at Langley. I’ve had enough up close and personal with the whole crazy-evil-people-doing-crazy-evil-things world, Bella told her husband. I want to teach in a normal everyday environment. You know, normal students, not spies. A place where I don’t have to worry about whether a student of mine having trouble with French could get them killed. Besides, they have a ton of extremely good colleges in Texas, several in North Texas alone, that I can choose from to get my Masters’ degrees.

So.... you think we should make the move?

I think we should make the move. And we’ve got some time to really plan this out – find a house down there, get this one listed, all of it. I love Uncle Max to death, but we don’t see him that regularly anymore. So yes, Nathan, I think if we have a chance to be closer to family, we ought to take it.

I love you, Bella, and I love the way you’re the other half of my brain. You just said everything I was thinking about this.

***

Andi Taggert looked at her reflection one last time. Not too bad, she murmured in approval before grabbing her bag and heading out the door to finally meet the man she’d been chatting with for a few weeks.

One step outside was all it took.

Wow, she exclaimed, and went immediately back inside to put on her heaviest winter coat. That wind is out of control! So much for ‘sunny and not too cold’ all week long like the weatherman said.

Properly braced, she ventured out again, thankful when she reached her car that no ice was in sight. Texas winters notoriously skipped the beautiful white flakes of fun for the misery of black ice, choked highways, and in extreme years, downed power lines.

But on this late January afternoon there was no sleet or ice. It was almost pleasant. Except for the whipping Arctic blast traveling down across the country from the far north to sweep Fort Worth, Texas off its feet and cancel out any warming effect of the sun on such a clear, cloudless day.

Andi climbed into her Mazda and sat for a moment, letting the engine warm up a bit. She’d bought it used ten years ago, and although it was older, it was still mostly dependable – provided she didn’t push it too hard in the winter.

Four more semesters. Just need you to last for four more semesters, she said out loud, patting the dashboard. Let me get this Masters’ degree done before you go giving out on me.  

After several minutes, her little blue coupe showed an acceptable system temperature, and she backed out of her driveway and headed to Ted’s, a bar and grill about ten minutes away.

As she drove, fingers tapping a rhythm to Volbeat’s A Warrior’s Call, she tried her best to calm her nerves. This was the third time she’d been brave enough to meet a guy in person that’d she met online. The first two meetings had been a complete waste of time, and she’d just about sworn off the online dating scene altogether until she stumbled across Gabriel’s profile.

Andi had been interested but skeptical until they started talking. It had progressed quickly from instant messaging online to texting to phone calls. He was smart, funny, and relatable. They talked every single day, about all sorts of things – careers, music, art, literature, sports teams, religion, politics. Everything under the sun.

Now, four weeks later, they were about to meet in real life for the first time. For Andi, the only real question left in her mind was, did he really look like his profile picture – or would this be a repeat of guys one and two she’d met?

That sounds so shallow of me, she realized. But I don’t mean it like that. It’s just, the first two guys I met in person had lied about things, including their appearance. She had to chuckle a bit at that. One guy – Walter - whose profile said he was six feet two inches tall turned out to be five-seven. This was a problem for her; she’d been five-ten since the ninth grade and had always felt self-conscious about her height, so she preferred men taller than her, and she’d plainly stated as much in her online bio.

And then there was Barry, she chortled aloud. "God, what did he not lie about?"

Mr. ‘I-run-my-own-company’ was not only unemployed but seemed to be perfectly content to still live at his mother’s house at the age of thirty-five. Barry had also added a good six inches to his height in his profile. He was about five feet six inches, roughly the same height as his mother - who he’d brought along on the date.

Well, it was.... interesting, for sure, Andi sighed as she relived the awkwardness of meeting with Barry. Pretty sure tonight won’t be any worse than that. I hope.

She pulled into Ted’s, parked her car, and made her way quickly through the chill-inducing wind to the door. Grateful to be back in the warmth, she removed her coat, then pulled her cell phone out of her purse. A new text message was waiting for her.

I’m in the bar area, it read. Dark blue sweater.

Andi ducked into the ladies’ room first, to make sure her hair hadn’t gotten whipped around too badly. Sure enough, the north wind had wreaked some havoc. She took a few moments to get herself put back together, then took a calming breath and texted Gabriel back.

Just pulled in. See you in a bit.

She counted to one hundred, then stepped back out into the front lobby and approached the hostess stand. Hi, welcome to Ted’s, the young woman stationed there said to Andi.

Hi, Andi answered. I’m meeting someone, he’s already in the bar area. Blue sweater?

Yes, ma’am. The girl turned and pointed. He’s in the third booth on the left side.

Thanks, Andi replied, and slowly walked that direction.

Gabriel sensed movement, looked up, and saw her. Hi there, he said with an easy grin. He stood up, and to Andi’s relief not only did he look precisely like his online picture with his neatly trimmed goatee, wavy black hair and warm blue eyes, but he was also six-four - as his profile had indicated.

Andi gave him a winning smile. Hi there, she replied softly. And thought to herself, finally! Cute as hell, just like his picture, and taller than me, just as he said.

Andi and Gabriel ate, laughed, and talked until at last they noticed they were the last two patrons in the restaurant.

They probably want to close up, he observed, signaling for the check.

Probably, she agreed.

She offered to go halves on the tab, but he wouldn’t hear of it. At least let me cover the tip, then, she insisted.

All right, he grinned, hands splayed in an ‘I give up’ gesture.

As they made their way toward the door, Gabriel told her, I had a really good time tonight. I’d like to do it again soon.

Yes, Andi beamed. I’d really like that.

Do you like to bowl?

Um, yes. It’s just been a while, she replied. But it sounds like fun.

They paused just inside the front door of Ted’s, both dreading the wind that they knew awaited them.

This is the part where I dash to my car and let it warm up before I can leave, she announced. Fun times.

You want me to wait with you? I don’t mind. Besides, if I do this, he pulled out his keys, hit a button twice, and his Dodge 1500 started up from across the lot, mine will be all set when we part company.

I am so jealous of that!

He laughed. It comes in handy, that’s for sure. Especially when it’s a hundred and ten in the shade. Then he reached over and took her hand. Come on. I’ll shiver with you. No one should suffer alone.

They ran hand in hand to her car, then separated long enough to climb in.

Wow, he managed. That wind has got some bite tonight.

Yes, Andi hissed through chattering teeth. It’s horrible. She slid her key into the ignition, turned it, and the little blue Mazda sputtered to life. And now, we wait.

An established pattern, huh?

Yep, she confirmed. Even back when I first got it. This little car has just never run well in the winter.

She turned her head to look at him and noticed he had leaned toward her. On impulse, she closed the distance and kissed him softly on the lips. Gabriel pulled back slightly in surprise, then smiled, framed her face in his hands and kissed her back. His touch sent a tingle racing all the way to her toes.

He pulled back again, eyes twinkling, and murmured, I was going to behave myself on the first date, but I’ll be honest, I wondered what that would be like.

Andi blushed as she stumbled over her words. Sorry... I just... well. I wanted to know too. She glanced at her dashboard. Oh, look, it’s warm enough now.

Gabriel laughed, squeezing her hand. I’m going to go to my truck now, end this date on a high note. He reached for the door handle, paused, and asked, "Saturday afternoon sound good for bowling? We