The Initial Stage of Murder: Dusky Anne Wild Novels, #1

By D. R. Thorne

When a serial killer chooses prey to torment a former cop, the clues spell more than disaster…

 

Saratoga Springs, New York. Cop-turned-true-crime-author Dusky Anne Wild can't resist flirting with danger. So when a ranch hand and two jockeys are found dead at a horse farm, she jumps at the opportunity to investigate. But even after discovering that all three victims were killed with the same poison, the case quickly grows cold and leaves Dusky without leads.

 

Called to London to help local police with another homicide investigation that's rapidly losing steam, she's horrified when she uncovers a link pointing all the way back to Saratoga. And now she fears a murderous adversary is playing a deadly game of ABC… and Dusky's positioned at the center of the charade.

Will Dusky stop the lethal ruse before the culprit adds her to the body count?

 

The Initial Stage of Murder is the thrilling first book in the Dusky Anne Wild Novel crime series. If you like fast-paced action, tormented heroines, and clever twists you won't see coming, then you'll love D. R. Thorne's suspenseful tale.

Buy The Initial Stage of Murder to outwit a cunning criminal today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. R. Thorne
• Release date: Mar 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781508998082

Book preview

The Initial Stage of Murder

Dusky Anne Wild Novels book 1

By D. R. Thorne

The Initial Stage of Murder copyright ©2015 by D. R. Thorne

First edition 2015

Second addition 2022

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

All cover art is owned by author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are purely of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13 978-1508998082

ISBN-10 1508998086

Editor/Proofreaders: Amanda Brown, Guy from Paper True

and Kara A. DiCaterino.

Cover: MiblArt

I dedicate this novel to my parents Ellen and Bill and all others who have passed away. I also dedicate to my brothers, Doug and Randy, my nephew Evan, my nieces Morgan and Molly, and all my other family and friends.

In conclusion, I must thank my editors, Amanda Guy and Kara. Thank you Miblart for the new book’s cover.

Grateful to you all.

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Dusky faces life after witnessing her father killing her mother.

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Table of Contents

Copyright

Dedication

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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

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Sneak peek of The Guilty Child

The Initial Stage of Murder

By D. R. Thorne

Chapter 1

I will stay with you until you die... A hand reached over and petted the horse’s muzzle. I promise, the voice whispered into the steed’s ear.

The deadly quiet of the night took over, disturbed only by one final thud from inside the stall.

"I know, I know. Such kind words for such a cruel act. But you’ll agree it’s much better this way. You will die a champion racehorse and no longer have to wait to die. Your pain and suffering will cease to exist. Now, how does that sound?"

The dark figure wandered over to the open doors of the barn and watched lightning flash across the late August sky, then stole a glance at the large house to make sure no lights came on. Only a dimly lit flood light flickered.

You are all so beautiful, the attacker said quietly to the seven living horses. I’m so glad I found you.

The covers were carefully snapped on each of the hypodermic needles and slid back inside the shirt front pocket. The dark figure turned on its heel and wandered back to the fallen stallion, kneeling down to caress his mane one last time. I’ve set your soul free. I’m a very good person. The felling of liquid was present on the mane and neck. Well, it looks like I missed, dear one. The figure turned and patted the body sprawled out on the ground. I didn’t miss you, did I?

Lights came on at the house. I think I see the barn doors open! barked a male voice. Check on the horses, now!

A horse stirred from its slumber and started making noise.

Ah, that is my cue to leave you all. The silhouette strolled over and stroked the now awakened stallion’s muzzle until he calmed down.

The attacker looked back at the horse, still alive on the ground. Well then, maybe it’s not your time to die tonight after all. I will just have to find another to take your place. The dark figure patted the horse one last time and ran out of the barn.

A clap of thunder boomed, the barn shook, and four men came running out of the house to inspect the barn.

Hey, a voice gasped, one of the stalls is open. Nick!

The dark figure watched each man run by and then disappeared into the night.

What? howled another man.

Nick, come on. Talk to me! the man screamed.

Get the police and an ambulance here, now! yet another called out.

I’m calling the vet! shouted a new voice.

John, I’m sorry, the man said somberly. Nick’s dead. There’s blood all over the back of his neck.

Barry, what in hell was he doing here? John asked, worried. I sent him home hours ago. What about, Evil Eye? Is he okay?

The vet is on her way, John, said the new voice. Who would do such a thing? Nick was sixty years old. Who would kill a sweet old man? It’s insane.

Holy shit, sir, Evil Eye is still alive! There’s some kind of liquid on the lower part of his mane.

The cops and ambulances are on the way!

Search the premises now! I’m heading back to the house to check on my family. I’ll be out in a second!

I’ll get the guns, just in case, Barry yelled back.

The four men scattered around the house and yard, their shotguns clicking, and their silhouettes hunting the night. Each hoped they could catch the guilty party who took the life of their friend and threatened to take the life of another.

The dark clouds burst open; the rain pounded down on the pavement. The four men, now soaking wet, dropped their heads in grief. Lightning flashed across the sky, the rain hit the house, the barn, the pavement, and the grass, washing away every bit of evidence.

Chapter 2

True crime author, Dusky Anne Wild, marveled at the sun’s morning colors as she drove on the Northway to Saratoga Springs, New York. She listened to the announcer on the radio: Today, hazy, hot, and humid. High to hit about ninety-five. Stay inside today, folks—that storm last night did nothing to cool it down. Tonight, strong thunderstorms with possible hail. Low to be in the seventies. In other news, the Saratoga racetrack-

Dusky abruptly shut off the radio. I really don’t want to listen to this now. I hate it when the press names murders—serial ones at that. Here I am heading to help with a case before 5:30 in the morning, she groaned and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. What am I, nuts? Dusky, don’t ask a question you already know the answer to. She turned on the car’s stereo, and Alice In Chains blasted through the speakers. "Now this is what I’m talking about." She started singing away.

Before long, Dusky arrived at a large white house with cobalt-blue shutters. Ivy crawled up the front and sides of the house. An eight-foot green hedge was pruned to the shape of a horse. She parked next to a detective’s unmarked car and grabbed her notebook and purse. She checked her reddish-brown hair and blinked her blue-grey eyes to make sure her makeup wasn’t smudged.

Dusky stepped out and inhaled the stale warm air. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she slammed the car door shut and set off the alarm. The beeping sound echoed throughout the neighborhood and made two security guards run toward her. Dusky stopped before they told her to. Ah, here we go again. She rolled her eyes and leaned against the car. She took out her ID and decided to survey the area while she waited.

Ma’am, you can’t be here. You don’t have any clearance, said a blond-haired, blue-eyed young man as he held out his hand in a stopping signal as an afterthought.

You’re new, huh kiddo? Dusky said sarcastically and held up a badge. I have my ID.

Ma’am, you must leave, now! said a much taller black man with a tad more authority.

Ma’am? Dusky raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath. Will one of you boys go get Detective Jason Cranes or Karl Ulrich? They’re expecting me. She sighed loudly. I’m helping them on the case. You know...a consultant. I’m a former police officer.

Ma’am, both the guards said simultaneously.

With the car’s keys still in her hand, Dusky pushed the panic button, and the car’s alarm went off.

Calm down, Dusky, I’m coming. Just give me a damn minute, said a familiar voice from behind the guards. A tall, muscular man with blond military buzzcut hair strutted his way past the two young men. Excuse me, boys, I know this young lady. You guys can go show your authority somewhere else.

Yes, sir! they both said before walking away.

Dusky laughed and crossed her arms. Jason, she said, are you done throwing your muscles around? Dusky shook his hand, and a smile came across her face as she saw the man approaching on Jason’s right. Well, hello, Karl. I see you’re still here. So, your wife still hasn’t had the baby yet?

Karl laughed, No, not yet. His smile reached all the way to his hazel eyes. I wish she would. I’m getting impatient.

Getting? said Jason with a booming laugh. He won’t shut up about it.

Hey, bite me, Cranes! Karl snapped back. I remember when you and Donna had your first baby. I know you were going crazy.

Jason smiled. So? He ran his hand through his hair.

Dusky rubbed her chin. So, people in glass houses should throw stones. Right, Karl? she said with a wicked smile spread across her face.

See, Dusky’s on my side, Karl snickered.

Jason rolled his eyes and smirked. Knock it off, will you, guys? We have a job to do.

Dusky kept giggling. Karl and I will stop busting your ass, Jason. Her laughter subsided and her tone became serious. Alright now, she continued, let’s get back to work and be professional, guys. I see we’re not at the track. What happened? She took a better look around. For a big story like this, where the hell is the press?

Karl sighed and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His jet-black hair looked like fresh tar when the sun hit it. Yes, we are. But confusing, I’m afraid.

Confusing? Why do you say that? she frowned. "I got a lot of questions. Why have you called me here? Does this have anything to do with the two jockeys’ murders a few days ago? And I will ask the question again, where the hell is the press?"

Well, funny you should ask those questions, Dusky, Karl began and glanced at his partner. We have to go to that big red barn over there. He pointed downward.

Jason started walking down the grey stone pathway. This is the residence of John Brice. He and his business partner, Barry Woodall raise racehorses. Their horses have won countless races, from the Saratoga racetrack to the Kentucky Derby. You have to see their stats to believe it, Dusky. These horses are incredible.

Please don’t tell me someone killed a horse. Dusky walked next to Karl. She flipped open her notebook; she had a pen in hand already. She belted out a loud sigh. So, what’s going on?

About twelve-thirty this morning, sixty year old ranch hand, Nick Poplar, was found dead in a horse stall. Three needle marks were found on the nape of his neck in the shape of a triangle. And one racehorse was attacked. John noticed the barn doors were open—they’re kept closed every night. Karl flipped the pages on his notebook. The horse’s name is Evil Eye. He’s at the vet’s fighting for his life. When they went to check the horses, they also checked the property, and no one was around.

Dusky stopped writing for a moment. Okay, now that’s weird, she began. Why would anyone kill a sixty-year-old man and attack a horse? And come out to the middle of nowhere to do it? She tapped the pen on her notepad. No enemies, just like the jockeys, right?

You got it, Karl said flatly. Here’s the clincher for you—the horse was going to be euthanized next week.

Why? Dusky spat out.

The Saratoga racetrack will remain open for the rest of the season. The owners officially announced it this morning. That’s why the reporters aren’t here, they’re at the track. They don’t know everything that happened here. The coroner took Nick’s body away. The vet got Evil Eye out before daybreak—just in case the press came snooping around. John and Barry didn’t want photos of their friend and champion in the paper. Nick had no family.

Dusky’s eyes opened wide. She should have listened to the rest of the news before showing up. So, let me get this straight. Two jockeys were murdered, a ranch hand was murdered, and a racehorse was attacked. This same horse was going to be euthanized. And they still won’t close the track? There’s only one week or so left. What the hell is wrong with these people?

Well, Dusky, two jockeys were murdered just a few days back, and now this? Jason stretched his arms out. Did you really think the track was going to close? They would lose millions of dollars. He pointed behind him. Take a look. John and Barry are taking their horses out of here. Not everyone is going, though.

Three trailers pulled up, and four men began to guide the horses inside. Dusky watched two other grey horses getting some exercise, observing each horse trot and run. What a waste of talent and strength. Look how agile they are, she remarked.

Dusky, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but that’s John Brice standing off to the right, Karl said, using his file to point to a tall, thin man with salt and pepper hair.

Suddenly, a black horse with white shins bolted out of the barn’s double doors; its ornery attitude was horrifying.

Torah! John called, waving his hands in an attempt to calm the horse. Barry, help!

Torah reared up on his hind legs. His high-pitch sound signaled a warning.

John toppled hard onto the ground. He held his right arm up in an effort to protect himself from the massive beauty. Torah, please! he begged.

A muscular man with wavy blond hair rushed out of the barn. Torah, he called, his voice calm and steady. You alright, John?

Dusky saw the younger man, obviously Barry, trying to protect his fallen partner.

Torah, talk to me. Tell us what’s the matter. Barry’s voice became meditative.

Torah dropped down on all fours once again. Barry’s voice did the trick. The horse snorted and stomped his hooves on the earth beneath it.

John pushed himself off the ground. I’m fine, Barry. Thanks, man, he said, placing his hands on his upper thighs and bending down to let out a loud sigh. Is Torah alright?

He’s just fine. I’ve never seen him act like this, Barry said as he patted the horse’s shiny mane. Hey, it’s alright. Calm down there, buddy. He lowered his voice again and guided Torah carefully back to the barn.

Mr. Brice, you alright there, pal? Jason asked.

"Yeah, and it’s John, please. It’s Jason, correct? And your partner...Karl with a k? Did I get it right?"

Yes, you did, Karl replied and turned to Dusky. John, this is Dusky Anne Wild. She’s a consultant.

And here to help, Dusky said, stretching out her hand. Nice to meet you, John. She swallowed the hard lump that was forming in her throat. I’m very sorry for your loss.

Thank you for your kind words, John said. His eyes were still filled with tears as he shook her hand. Nick was a great man. I don’t know why he didn’t go home like I asked him to. He choked back the tears. He was ‘Dad’ around here. I bet he stayed to comfort Evil Eye.

Do you want us to come back later? Dusky asked.

You’re too sweet. I only wish I could have met the great true crime author under different circumstances. John forced a smile. My wife and I read your books all the time. His lanky frame stood like a scarecrow, dressed in blue jeans and a black and blue plaid button-down shirt. I’m glad you took the time to come here. We really need your keen insight.

Thank you, I’ll try the best that I can. First off, nobody else was hurt, right? And where are your wife and children? Dusky asked.

John’s eyes opened wide, and he shook his head. I got them out of here as quickly as I could. How in hell did you know I had children?

The tricycle that’s covered in overgrown weeds and grass. And another bike that’s seen better days, Dusky replied. John, did you or anyone else hear a car or anything?

I can answer that, Miss Wild. Barry held out his hand. I’m John’s partner, Barry Woodall. We heard no engine sounds of any kind. The air conditioner and fans were on, and there was too much noise to hear anything. Once we noticed something was wrong, we got our guns and checked the premises. Didn’t want the horses left alone for too long, just in case there was somebody waiting in the shadows.

Dusky shook Barry’s hand. Smart thinking, she said. Your killer probably took off before you guys even knew what hit you. And of course, the rain washed all the evidence away. She gazed for a moment at Barry’s dark brown eyes and his tanned, toned body. His muscles popped through his tight black jeans and plain white t-shirt. She shook her head. S-so, John, you said Torah has never behaved as, what I would call, aggressive, she said. Would you elaborate on that please?

Torah kept blocking and pushing the veterinarian and her assistant away from the other horses, John replied. The funny thing is, he loves Dr. Blake. John shifted back and forth on his heels. Aggressive? Torah? Never.

Dusky stopped writing for a moment. Never? Are you sure?

It’s not in his nature to be aggressive, Barry smiled. Put it to you this way, Torah is like the watcher of the horse community. He checks to make sure everyone is in their stalls. If we go somewhere, he will check the stalls again to make sure nobody is left behind.

Even if we say something, Torah understands it, John added. He knows Nick is dead and Evil Eye is hurt. Maybe he’s acting this way because of this. Nobody has died in front of him before.

Maybe? Dusky jumped when the barn doors swung open again. She watched as Torah appeared once more.

Hey, Torah, Barry said, petting the horse’s nose and neck. You’re such a good boy.

John moseyed his way over to the young stallion and stroked his back. Hey, Torah.

Dusky watched closely as Torah sniffed John’s hair and quickly jerked his nose up into the air. She could hear Torah inhale the morning air. My heart just breaks for the poor thing, she said as she watched Torah looking into the empty trailer. I know you’ve been asked this question already, but, do either of you have any enemies?

No, Miss Wild. We’re the nice guys. I don’t have any clue why anyone would do this to us, Barry shrugged and shook his head.

Like we said before, Evil Eye was going to be put down next week, John chimed in. We just wanted to say goodbye. Anger now pulsed through his veins. Someone murdered Nick and attempted to kill Evil Eye. What the fuck is going on here?

"I don’t like the fact that somebody was in the stalls, Barry added, his body shaking. It pisses me off we didn’t know about it sooner. He kicked a stone across the lawn. We could have saved Nick."

Torah walked away from the other horses and stepped into his trailer.

That’s what we’re trying to figure out, guys, Karl stated as he watched Torah’s door close. It’s just a sad shame.

I’m sorry I have to ask you both this question, Dusky sighed and ran her fingers through her reddish-brown hair. Okay now, you said that Evil Eye was going to be put down sometime next week. Why?

About two months ago, we were at a friend’s farm, Barry gulped back the tears. There was a horse that was hopped up on drugs...

We don’t have any proof of that, Barry, John interjected.

Nick knew. Barry glared at John. Anyway, that horse ran full force into Evil Eye, hitting him hard. We took him to the vet, you know, to make sure he was alright, and we found out he had cancer. There’s just no way of helping him. He’s too old, and it was just too late. We took so long to make the decision on having him put down, because we love him too much.

Did anyone else know about the horse being put down? Dusky asked.

No, we kept that quiet, John said. Only the vet knew.

Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on here, but we’re going to do everything we possibly can to figure this out. We don’t want anyone else hurt either, Dusky reassured John, and sighed. Was Evil Eye with you guys long?

We’ve had him since the day he was born, said John.

Do any of your horses stay in Saratoga for the winter months?

Torah broke out of his trailer.

Never. They all go back to my farm out in North Carolina. Excuse me, Barry said and took off after Torah.

Our horses have done us well. We wouldn’t do that to them. The love and respect Barry and I have for our horses is immeasurable, John added. They’re like children to us. They’re all a little spoiled.

John, I’m sorry— Jason started to say.

We didn’t mean any disrespect, gentlemen, Karl backed him up.

None taken, said John. Barry and I just want this person stopped before anyone else is hurt. He smiled faintly. I’m going to get the horses moving. Barry will meet you all at Dr. Blake’s office. Then we’ll make funeral arrangements for Nick. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Thank you all so much. He turned and walked off toward his truck.

Dusky’s heart sank into her chest. It hurts to see a person after a loved one dies, she said as she watched John get into his blue truck with a large silver trailer in tow. Her eyes turned back to Barry and Torah. She watched Barry’s muscles flex as he watched Torah run circles around him.

Karl walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder. Dusky, wake up.

Dusky jumped out of her skin. Dammit, Karl! You scared the shit out of me!

Well, stop watching Barry and get back to your job, teased Jason.

"I-I’m not watching Barry! Dusky snapped. I was...thinking!"

Karl tried to stop giggling, but he couldn’t pass up a great time. "Oh yes, thinking about Barry riding a horse with no shirt on."

Shut up, Dusky barked through gritted teeth. Barry with no shirt on, that would be nice, she thought to herself. As she watched, Barry finally got Torah inside the trailer and locked the door.

Then, a short Hispanic man with a mustache and a black cowboy hat walked over to Barry and kissed him on the mouth.

Are you shitting me? Dusky exclaimed and raised an eyebrow. Just my luck. She turned and reluctantly faced Karl and Jason snickering. Not a word.

Aw, I’m sorry, mocked Karl, trying to stop laughing, but to no avail.

Jason wrapped his arm around Dusky’s shoulders. At least you looked, he laughed. "No matter how hard you try, you can’t change a man."

Fuck off. Dusky pushed Jason’s arm off her. Everybody wonders why I’m not married, she continued. There are no good guys left. They are either married, have multiple children with many different women or they’re—

Gay, Karl finished her sentence and laughed.

Pretty much, Dusky said, watching Barry and his man walk arm in arm. What a waste.

You’re too picky, Dusky. That’s the problem, Jason said.

I have standards. I don’t want another asshole ex-husband. Dusky snapped back, pulling her pocketbook up over her shoulder. One was enough for me, thank you very much.

Aw, that’s just sweet. You’re still too critical, Karl chimed in.

What are you talking about? she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Dusky, I knew Jesse! How the hell do you think I felt when I heard what happened between the two of you? I’ve known Jesse since I was fifteen. He was on the force with us. I didn’t have a clue he was into that kind of thing. He was a cop, said Jason, shaking his head. I feel dirty just thinking about it.

Yeah, added Karl, tapping the notebook in his hand. The Fifty Shades of Gray lifestyle isn’t for everyone.

I was a cop, too, ya know. You two were the only ones on my side, she smirked. You know, I never would have married Jesse if I had known he was into all that shit. That’s why I’m being careful this time. Hey Karl, do you remember the time you punched Jesse out in a bar? She laughed at the memory.

An evil smile shot across Karl’s face. Oh yeah, that was just for shits and giggles. Hey, Jason smashed a rum bottle, too, across the side of his head.

Good times, good times, said Jason, a mischievous grin forming on his face. Nobody is mean to our Dusky.

Yeah, I’m just happy they didn’t kick you two off the force, she snickered. Anyway, back to business. Is there more information about the jockeys?

No. Same as last time. They each had alcohol in their system. Someone must have spiked their drinks. Both victims had a blood test, and nothing jumped out at the medical examiner. They’re going to have to dig deeper. Something is just off. The medical examiner has never seen anything like this at all, Karl said. The jockeys had extremely bad digestive problems along with a heart attack. They both died quickly.

I’ve heard they are bringing in a horticulturalist, said Jason. We’re not dealing with normal poisons like arsenic or something along those lines. They’re coming up with plants that may be undetected. It might help the case.

What the hell is going through the killer’s mind? Dusky said, shaking her head. So, let me get this straight. She brought out her notebook and began to flip the pages. The first jockey was Anastasia Peers, twenty-seven, died on August twenty-eighth. The second jockey was Nate Harris, forty-one, died the twenty-ninth. Today is August thirty-first, the third victim was a sixty-year-old man by the name of Nick Poplar. He was a ranch hand. The last, and I hope final, victim was a horse, Evil Eye. But he’s still alive.

The two jockeys knew each other. They also knew John and Barry, Jason commented.

The murders have to be linked somehow, Dusky said flatly.

Jason rubbed his chin. Anastasia and Nate both won their races and were out celebrating on different days. Jealousy maybe?

I don’t think so. Nick wasn’t a jockey. He took care of the horses, Karl said, tapping the file with his fingertips. And Evil Eye is retired. If I was the killer, I would have gone after Torah. He’s won six races, so far, this season. And as for the jockeys, there were bigger names to take out than Anastasia and Nate.

Whatever is going on, these murders are connected somehow. We just have to find out what links them all together, Dusky said.

Karl shook his head. None of this makes any sense to me whatsoever.

Dusky sighed. Well, I’ve had enough drama for the day. What are we doing next? She slapped her hand on her notepad.

We’re going to Dr. Blake’s office, suggested Jason.

Heather Blake, the vet?

Yeah, who did you think we were talking about? Karl looked at Dusky’s demeanor. What did you do to the vet? he asked, placing his hands firmly on his hips.

Ah, Jason said, that’s right, Karl, you weren’t here yet. You missed that scandalous case. Dusky was a rookie at the time, and she figured it out. Jason turned around. I’m going to start the car, get the air flowing. It’s too freaking hot out here.

Karl looked intently at Dusky. A scandalous case?

Dusky ran her fingers through her hair. "Years ago, a number of teenage girls came forward. Some old guy gave them beer and pot. Once they’d pass out, he stripped them naked and took pictures of them in lewd positions.