Dead End Track: Detective Mahoney Series, #0

By Julie Hiner

When Park Ranger Blackwood discovers a murder scene, the mirror image of how her sister was left by the cult that killed her, she must face the past she ran from.

 

The seventy-six thousand acre desert park could leave a lone hiker sizzling in the sand, or simply swallow them up. Terra Blackwood licked the sweat trickling over her upper lip as she scanned the vast desert. She was the only inhabitant of the vast park. Alone. Solo. She would face this day, the anniversery of loss, on her own.

 

The year is 1979. The desert is hot. Rock 'n' roll is psychedelic.

 

A serial killer leaves the bodies of young women transformed into horror corpses with black-patch eyes hanging from red rocks.

 

In a small town infested with religious fever and hungry for tourist money…

 

Reeling in an emotional spin from a night with a mountain goddess…

 

Faced with an onslaught of images of her sister's murder…

 

A park ranger is forced to take a homicide investigation into her own hands.

 

Is her grief-stricken mind twisting reality?

Has the cult that killed her sister resurfaced?

Will she find answers? Or will her sister's death haunt her forever?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: KillersAndDemons.com
• Release date: Nov 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215119266

Julie Hiner

Julie Hiner spent endless hours during her childhood lost in the pages of books. The only thing that took precedence over a book was her Walkman. To this day, Julie is a hardcore 80s rocker at heart. After securing a solid education in computer science at the University of Calgary, Julie spent over a decade working on large scale network systems. On a break between contracts, Julie followed her longing to finish a book she had started, a work of non-fiction portraying her personal story of facing fear and anxiety on a bicycle in the European mountains. After some deep soul searching, she decided to write a novel. Following her fascination of the dark mind of the serial killer, and finding inspiration at a talk given by a local homicide detective, Julie surged down her new path to writing a dark, serial killer novel. She now writes dark crime and horror. She loves detailed research, creating in depth character, and unleashing her inner artist on photos to create the cover and marketing material.

Book preview

Dead End Track

M. E. Blackwood Story

Julie Hiner

Killers and Demons

Dead End Track © 2022 Julie Hiner

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a

retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic,

mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written

permission. All events, locations and characters are either fictional or used

in a fictional way, as products of the author’s imagination.

First Printing 2022

Publisher: Julie Hiner

KillersAndDemons.com

[e-mail]

Editing by: Taija Morgan

Cover Design: 100 Covers

ISBN: 978-1-7781424-9-9

First Edition

To all those who love to wonder into the desert, seeing past the barren exterior and finding the beauty in the red rock, the heat, and the silence.

To the young women of the 70s, murder victims of cases gone cold.

Contents

1. Park Avenue

2. Blood-Red Rock

3. Town Sheriff

4. Stale Donuts and Sheriff Sweat

5. Stuffy Happy Hour

6. Peaches and Cream

7. Unsettled

8. Mystery at the Morgue

9. Scrapbook

10. The Rio, Amped Up

11. A Taste of Simone

12. Moses and Zeus

13. The Stinson Show

14. Back and Beyond

15. Banish Satan

16. Road Trip

17. Breakthrough

18. Cold One on the Porch

19. From Above

20. Into The Dome

21. Take me to the Top

22. Numb the Pain

23. Loving Touch

24. Venom and Acacia

25. Ria’s Ghost

26. Desert Heat

27. Evil Spawn

28. Cold Beer Celebration

29. Simone

30. Medical Examiner Blackwood

Acknowledgments

About Author

Also By

Chapter 1

Park Avenue

A black-and-brown Jeep rolled into the vacant parking lot. The seventy-six thousand acre desert park could leave a lone hiker sizzling in the sand, or simply swallow them up. Terra Blackwood licked the sweat trickling over her upper lip as she scanned the vast desert. She was the only inhabitant of the vast park. Alone. Solo. She would face this day, the anniversary of loss, on her own.

The cassette deck clicked as the song changed. A trippy keyboard riff wove through the Jeep, followed by a hypnotic voice. The Doors telling her of strange days. It was the start of her own strange day. One that she didn’t want to face. She wished she could sit here and sink into a trance.

She cranked open the Jeep door. Her Timberland hikers hit the pavement with a soft thud. She closed the door, slipped the keys into the pocket of her Park Ranger jacket, then turned to face the awe-inspiring scene. Her breath caught in her throat.

Closing her eyes, she indulged in a deep inhale. The cool pre-dawn air soothed her lungs and calmed her soul. She loved the crisp peace of the morning, before the heat of the day broiled the desert.

She opened her eyes and looked down a stone staircase plunging to the desert floor. The park hadn’t opened yet. She didn’t need to be here for at least another hour. But she wanted to be. She needed to be. The quiet of the early desert morning was one of the few things that put her into a state of peace. Securing her multi-pocketed pack over her shoulders, she proceeded down the staircase. Soft thuds echoed through the silence as her boots hit the stone steps.

Reaching the bottom, she meandered across the sandy path. Nothing more than a framework to keep the hordes of tourists from wandering off into the barren land. Terra was well aware that most of them never saw the real desert.

A scuttle caught her eye. A small, lime lizard darted across the sand in bursts, alternating leaps of progress between times of stillness, ensuring its next push would be safe. The reptile paused, its black, beady eyes darting forward and back.

Another scuttle as it darted forward again. Snap. A thin snake, the shade of a Tuscan sun, etched in charcoal markings, darted over the amber rock, snatching the saurian from its run. A crackle crept through the air as snake fangs sank into crusty lizard skin. The lizard’s legs swam uselessly through the air as it made a final attempt to struggle free. The hunter slithered away with its juicy catch.

Terra chuckled and shook her head. Circle of life. Most tourists hated that part of the desert. She loved the raw sense of survival of the dry, barren land.

She continued her slow trek. Reaching the bottom, she paused to take in the stunning view. Towering bronze rock formations stretched out in a line, reaching their peaks toward the indigo sky. Silver stars scattered across a denim backdrop, pulsing their farewell.

She stood at the beginning of the street of rock towers. Slipping the straps of her pack off her shoulders, she hoisted herself up onto a smooth rock. Palms against the cold surface, she leaned back and let out a soft sigh. Park Avenue. They said it looked just like the one in the Big Apple. She’d take the rocks over concrete any day.

Terra pulled her pack toward her, zipped open the top and rummaged through the contents. Pulling out a small, velvet box, she placed it on the rock beside her. She raised her hand toward her neck, fished inside the multiple shirts she had layered on that morning, and found the gold chain beneath. Running her fingers along the delicate interwoven metal circles, her forefinger and thumb came to a halt at the metal key hanging from the bottom of the chain.

She released the key and slipped it into a keyhole on the front of the velvet box. A subtle snap touched her ears as she opened it. She stared down at the violet eyes, the same as her own, looking back at her. A rare pigment that she shared with her sister. Or, had shared. Until her sister was murdered. Thirteen years ago.

She picked up the photo and lifted it toward her face. Ria. I miss you, she whispered as she ran her finger along the face snapped forever in time. Running her hand through her own long, dark hair, she pulled at the strand of silver. She’d coloured it blue every year since Ria left, just like they used to do when they were kids. Bleached one too many times, it had turned a dull grey. The hot desert sun had given it an antique-tin shine.

Her mind raced through years of memories, like she was rewinding her life back to a time when it meant something.

Click. Her mind stopped. It rested on the image of the last time she had seen Ria. The day the picture she now held had been taken. It was the day after Ria’s eighteenth birthday. And the day Ria left the house they had called home for most of their childhood. Ria had giggled when she hugged Terra goodbye, saying, Don’t worry, silly dilly, we’ll see each other before you know it!

Terra’s shoulders tightened, her jaw clenched, and her stomach seized. A terrible ball of nausea and tingling still ate away at her insides every time she thought of that day. She remembered telling Ria not to go, and Ria kneeling down, looking her in the eye and saying, I’ll write. I’ll find us the peace we need. The space that will let us flourish. You’ll see. You’ll join me as soon as you turn eighteen. I promise.

Terra touched her cheek, an imagined warmth still lingering where Ria’s soft lips had kissed her skin, one last time. She’d wished she wasn’t such a baby back then, only twelve years old. She’d wanted to plead with Ria that day, to let her go with her. There was no way in hell her mother would have let her step through that door.

She’d watched as Ria left her, unaware that Ria would drift all the way from their home town of Arizona up the coast to the hippie town of Ocean Beach in sunny San Diego.

Several tears burst from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She put the photo into the box, snapped it shut, and wiped aggressively at her cheeks with the camouflage-coloured sleeves of her Park Ranger jacket.

Dammit. I’m a sloppy mess. She shook her head, berating herself for being so sappy. Back off. It’s the day. The anniversary is always hard. She took a deep breath and eased up on her self-scolding.

You could have stopped her. Told her to stay. She shook her head. No. Silly dilly. Ria had her own spirit. Always chasing that dream. To be as free as a human could. Always chasing. No one could stop her. She chased and chased.

Until she chased her own death.

Terra bit her bottom lip hard, her cheeks burning. A plethora of images of Ria swarmed through her mind, blending into a fuzzy collage. Dizziness took over and Terra lay back against the rock. Her face was on fire. Her teeth clenched against her bottom lip. Warm liquid and the taste of copper touched her tongue.

She bolted upright. She touched her lips. A droplet of blood ran down her fingertips. Dammit.

She pulled back the sleeve of her jacket and looked at her black sports Timex. Shit. She grabbed her pack and jumped off the rock, scrambling through the sand toward the stone staircase.

Chapter 2

Blood-Red Rock

Terra pushed her heavy hiking boot against the gas pedal and leaned back into the cream faux-fur covering the driver’s seat. She loved how her Jeep handled around the corners.

A click echoed from the cassette deck as the song changed. Funky keyboard wove through the Jeep. Trippy sounds interwove with the chords. Jim Morrison's hypnotizing voice seeped poetic lyrics of swimming to the moon. Midnight Drive. A track that never failed to pull Terra into