Once He Pines (A Claire King FBI Suspense Thriller—Book Six)

By Molly Black

FBI Special Agent Claire King dies chasing a killer—and is resuscitated minutes later to realize she has changed. Dark images flash through her mind in a newfound power, visions leading her towards serial killers. But when victims of a new killer turn up, all seemingly connected to the occult, it strikes to the heart of Claire’s own visions. Will this be the case that leads her astray?

“Molly Black has written a taut thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat… I absolutely loved this book and can’t wait to read the next book in the series!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder

ONCE HE PINES is Book #6 of a long anticipated new series by critically-acclaimed and #1 bestselling mystery and suspense author Molly Black, whose books have received over 2,000 five-star reviews and ratings.

FBI Special Agent Claire King has a reputation for brilliance, for being able to crack serial killer cases that no other agent can. Before she died and came back to life, she relied solely on this brilliance. But now that she has this fleeting, newfound power, Claire is confused: should she follow what she knows? Or what she senses? Are visions more powerful than intellect?

Or will they lead her right into a killer’s trap?

A page-turning and harrowing crime thriller featuring a brilliant and tortured FBI agent, the Claire King series is a riveting mystery, packed with non-stop action, suspense, twists and turns, revelations, and driven by a breakneck pace that will keep you flipping pages late into the night. Fans of Rachel Caine, Teresa Driscoll and Robert Dugoni are sure to fall in love.

Future books in the series are also available!

“I binge read this book. It hooked me in and didn't stop till the last few pages… I look forward to reading more!”
—Reader review for Found You

“I loved this book! Fast-paced plot, great characters and interesting insights into investigating cold cases. I can't wait to read the next book!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder

“Very good book… You will feel like you are right there looking for the kidnapper! I know I will be reading more in this series!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder

“This is a very well written book and holds your interest from page 1… Definitely looking forward to reading the next one in the series, and hopefully others as well!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder

“Wow, I cannot wait for the next in this series. Starts with a bang and just keeps going.”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder

“Well written book with a great plot, one that will keep you up at night. A page turner!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder

“A great suspense that keeps you reading… can't wait for the next in this series!”
—Reader review for Found You

“Sooo soo good! There are a few unforeseen twists… I binge read this like I binge watch Netflix. It just sucks you in.”
—Reader review for Found You

• Language: English
• Publisher: Molly Black
• Release date: Dec 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094395869

Book preview

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O N C E   H E   P I N E S

(A Claire King FBI Suspense Thriller —Book 6)

M o l l y   B l a c k

Molly Black

Bestselling author Molly Black is author of the MAYA GRAY FBI suspense thriller series, comprising ten books (and counting); of the RYLIE WOLF FBI suspense thriller series, comprising six books; of the TAYLOR SAGE FBI suspense thriller series, comprising eight books; of the KATIE WINTER FBI suspense thriller series, comprising eleven books (and counting); of the RUBY HUNTER FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); of the CAITLIN DARE FBI suspense thriller series, comprising six books (and counting); of the REESE LINK mystery series, comprising six books (and counting); of the CLAIRE KING FBI suspense thriller series, comprising seven books (and counting); of the PIPER WOODS mystery series, comprising five books (and counting); of the GRACE FORD mystery series, comprising seven books (and counting); and of the CASEY BOLT mystery series, comprising five books (and counting).

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Molly loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.mollyblackauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

Copyright © 2023 by Molly Black. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Lemke Images used under license from Shutterstock.com.

BOOKS BY MOLLY BLACK

CASEY BOLT MYSTERY SERIES

BROKEN (Book #1)

FLAWED (Book #2)

BLEMISHED (Book #3)

DAMAGED (Book #4)

TWISTED (Book #5)

PIPER WOODS MYSTERY SERIES

SOMEWHERE SAFE (Book #1)

SOMEWHERE SANE (Book #2)

SOMEWHERE WHOLE (Book #3)

SOMEWHERE FAR (Book #4)

SOMEWHERE WRONG (Book #5)

GRACE FORD MYSTERY SERIES

NEARLY MINE (Book #1)

NEARLY SAFE (Book #2)

NEARLY FREE (Book #3)

NEARLY GONE (Book #4)

NEARLY HIS (Book #5)

CLAIRE KING MYSTERY SERIES

ONCE HE SEES (Book #1)

ONCE HE LONGS (Book #2)

ONCE HE TAKES (Book #3)

ONCE HE FEELS (Book #4)

ONCE HE KNOWS (Book #5)

MAYA GRAY MYSTERY SERIES

GIRL ONE: MURDER (Book #1)

GIRL TWO: TAKEN (Book #2)

GIRL THREE: TRAPPED (Book #3)

GIRL FOUR: LURED (Book #4)

GIRL FIVE: BOUND (Book #5)

GIRL SIX: FORSAKEN (Book #6)

GIRL SEVEN: CRAVED (Book #7)

GIRL EIGHT: HUNTED (Book #8)

GIRL NINE: GONE (Book #9)

RYLIE WOLF FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

FOUND YOU (Book #1)

CAUGHT YOU (Book #2)

SEE YOU (Book #3)

WANT YOU (Book #4)

TAKE YOU (Book #5)

DARE YOU (Book #6)

TAYLOR SAGE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

DON’T LOOK (Book #1)

DON’T BREATHE (Book #2)

DON’T RUN (Book #3)

DON’T FLINCH (Book #4)

DON’T REMEMBER (Book #5)

DON’T TELL (Book #6)

KATIE WINTER FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

SAVE ME (Book #1)

REACH ME (Book #2)

HIDE ME (Book #3)

BELIEVE ME (Book #4)

HELP ME (Book #5)

FORGET ME (Book #6)

HOLD ME (Book #7)

PROTECT ME (Book #8)

REMEMBER ME (Book #9)

CATCH ME (Book #10)

WATCH ME (Book #11)

RUBY HUNTER FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

IF I RUN (Book #1)

IF I TELL (Book #2)

IF I LIVE (Book #3)

IF I FORGET (Book #4)

IF I RETURN (Book #5)

CAITLIN DARE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

COME GET ME (Book #1)

COME FIND ME (Book #2)

COME TAKE ME (Book #3)

COME CATCH ME (Book #4)

COME SAVE ME (Book #5)

REESE LINK MYSTERY

BEYOND REASON (Book #1)

BEYOND REACH (Book #2)

BEYOND REPAIR (Book #3)

BEYOND DOUBT (Book #4)

BEYOND NORMAL (Book #5)

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Harper’s heart pounded in her chest. Her throat and mouth were dry, but that didn’t stop her tongue continually flicking out in a futile attempt to moisten her equally dry lips. It was a habit her friends and family would have recognized as a tell when she was nervous or stressed.

And she was both of those things at that moment.

Her sweat-soaked cotton t-shirt stuck to her back and chest, and it wasn’t just the hot and humid Mississippi night that caused it. For the hundredth time, she questioned what the hell she was doing there in those dark woods close to midnight.

For the hundredth time, she couldn’t give her frantic mind a satisfactory answer.

And for the hundredth time, she walked on.

The sounds of the forest were louder than she could ever have imagined. A background shrill hum of insects was overlaid by the random and often startling cries from what she hoped were birds, that seemed to come from all around her; from above in the dark canopy of treetops that blotted out what star and moonlight there was, and from beside her, in the thick foliage that crowded in on either side of the narrow, rough track she was walking down.

A flurry of wings just in front of her to the left, as a disturbed bird hurriedly took flight to avoid her approach, made her stomach flip and her breath catch in her throat. Then she looked up, along the winding path, and her eyes, as used to the blackness as they would ever be, could suddenly make out her destination.

The sight almost made her turn right round and run as fast as she could in the opposite direction. And to keep on running and running.

But she didn’t.

Somehow, she called upon the last ounce of resolve from deep inside her nineteen-year-old body, and with wobbly legs, walked towards the crumbling, decaying house.

The path widened, and then suddenly she was clear of the trees and the undergrowth. The dark house loomed over her. The moon, almost but not quite full, reflected off the three windows that remained intact, two on the upper floor, one on the ground floor.

Through the shattered window to the right of the front porch, Harper could just make out other flickering lights that made her fleetingly think of fireflies.

It was to those lights that she knew she must go. It was why she had left the safety of her family home at eleven thirty that night and driven the eight miles to the dark wood.

She was there despite all of the warnings. Against every bit of the common sense that had been drilled into her throughout her comfortable childhood, adolescence and teenage years.

She was there despite every single one of her instincts that were screaming at her to turn tail and flee.

She walked onwards towards the house, trying to ignore the fact she was walking towards, and very soon would be stepping into, the most cliched image of a house from a horror movie imaginable.

The noises of the wood were behind her, and she could now discern new sounds coming from the house. Ones made by humans. There was chanting, the words unintelligible, rising and falling in a rhythm that quickly became aligned with her breathing.

She continued towards the house until it filled her vision, the ivy-clad wooden walls, its broken windows like blind staring eyes, blocking out everything else.

The door to the porch was open and almost without hesitation she walked through, the smell of incense suddenly assailing her senses, temporarily overriding every other sensation.

Then, as she walked slowly through the front door, her eyes and ears filled in the gaps.

And what they showed her was enough to freeze the blood in her veins.

If the house was an image from every school ghost story, the vision that confronted Harper was straight out of a nightmare.

Hooded figures formed a circle in the large shadowy room in front of her. Their bodies swayed in time with the solemn chanting that rose and fell, swelled and receded. There were perhaps as many as twenty people in the circle, and Harper found herself wondering who they were if she knew any or all of them. But it was impossible to tell. They all wore hooded robes, made of what looked like in the poor, undulating light to be made of thick, brown coarse cloth, the kind she associated with medieval monks. The faces of the swaying figures were hidden behind the cloth and deep shadow.

Then, as her eyes became adjusted to the light, and her mind with the situation, she began to notice other details. The flickering light was coming from torches held by the masked figures. Flaming torches, with orange tongues of fire that came not from candles but from a ball or rags fastened to short, intricate sticks, or even horns.

In the center of the circle stood a man, his arms aloft. He too had a cloak, but his was pure black, and his hood was thrown back off his head. His head was adorned with a hideous mask that Harper couldn’t take her eyes from. It was that of a goat, a huge, grotesque skull, with massive, twisted horns that reached up toward the dark, shadowy ceiling.

Despite everything, Harper began to feel calmer as her eyes became fixated on the man at the center of the ring of figures. This was why she had come. This was what she had come for. For years she had become more and more convinced there was more to this world and to this life than high school and college, with its dramas, petty squabbles and superficialities. That there was more to life than working to secure nine to five drudgery, a family life that quickly turned uneventful at best, sour at worst.

The online chatrooms that she had found by accident had opened the door to there being another possibility. Another world, another life that existed just out of sight of the mainstream. One that was ready and waiting in the shadows. One that had always been there.

It had taken her two months from first stumbling upon that forum, to signing in and asking the questions she had always wanted to find the answers to, but had until then never known the words to use, or the people to ask.

It had taken a further six months for her to pluck up the courage and take the next massive leap. To come and see for herself what it was all about. As she stared, entranced at the goat-headed man, and the chanting, swaying figures around him, she knew that she had crossed a line. That there was no going back.

The rhythm of the chanting suddenly altered, the words, still unintelligible, becoming faster, more frenetic. The bodies’ movements kept pace with the new rhythm.

Harper edged closer so she was within touching distance of the figure nearest to her. Suddenly, she became aware that there were other people in the room, besides the goat-headed man and the hooded, chanting figures. Around the edge, lurking in the shadows, were people like her. No masks, no torches, no cloaks. Just regular people, watching, entranced by what was going on.

She wondered if any of those were there for the first time, like her. If one was in fact Angelwings 88, the person on the forum who had finally convinced her to take the next step and stop dreaming about it or imagining it but actually experience it for herself.

The sight of the observers calmed her even more, and her eyes stopped darting around the dark room, and instead, she found herself staring once again at the goat-headed figure, her body swaying in time with the incessant undulations of the chanting.

The incense that filled the room should have been cloying, but somehow it wasn’t. It helped to allow her mind to drift off, away from that abandoned house in those dark, terrifying woods, to somewhere else entirely. A place she did not how to get to, but that she suddenly knew she had always been desperate to arrive at.

She breathed in deeper and deeper, intoxicated by the whole atmosphere. At first, when she had shuffled into the room, she had felt like an outsider. That the ring of cloaked figures formed an exclusive group, one she was not and never could be a part of.

Now, she felt the exact opposite. That everyone in the room was somehow joined by an invisible bond. She felt a part of something in a way she never had before. Not in her college basketball team or her high school cheerleading squad.

Her eyes closed, as she allowed herself to be fully consumed by the rhythm of the chanting that was getting faster and faster, the voices singing out louder and louder. Her arms came up from her sides and they too started swaying as she waved them in time.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open as she felt a sharp pain in her wrist. For a crazy second, she thought she had been bitten, and half expected to see her cat, Jojo, hanging from her arm. It took her eyes a couple of seconds to focus, and when they finally managed to, in the gloomy light, it took her brain another two or three seconds to compute what her eyes were telling it.

Blood, almost black in the half-light, was pouring down her forearm towards the crook of her elbow. Then, like a child following a trail in a puzzle book, her eyes traced the flow of blood back up her arm to its source.

A dart, three inches in length, stuck out from her wrist. She stared at it transfixed, holding her arm out in front of her, oblivious to the blood that had started to drip onto the floor at her feet. Oblivious now also of the chanting that filled the room, of the swaying figures just in front of her.

Then she heard another sound from behind her and to her right. A pfft sound, like that of air escaping from the valve on her bike tire.

It was followed, almost instantly, by another sharp pain, this time in her neck.

Her hand, the one at the end of the wrist which held the dart, went to move towards her neck, but it never completed its journey.

Harper’s eyes lost focus, then closed. Then she toppled forward.

She was dead before she hit the floor. 

CHAPTER ONE

Agent Claire King stared at the email that had just dropped into her inbox. It was what she had been waiting for, for days. In truth, it was what she had been waiting for ever since, as a twelve-year-old girl, she had been told that her mom would never be coming home to make cookies with her again.

Yet her finger hesitated over the mouse of her laptop. She felt like she was on a rollercoaster. A ride that she was only just tall enough to be allowed on. There was no way off, and there was no end in sight. To make matters worse, she had the distinct feeling that as opposed to getting her closer to the end, what the email contained would be like throwing off the seatbelt.

The last few months had been the toughest of her