Final Fix (Rachel Ryder Book 8), page 1
FINAL FIX
CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON
Copyright © 2023 Carolyn Ridder Aspenson.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Severn River Publishing
www.SevernRiverBooks.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-64875-510-1 (Paperback)
CONTENTS
Also By Carolyn Ridder Aspenson
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
Epilogue
Also by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson
Acknowledgments
About Carolyn Ridder Aspenson
ALSO BY CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON
The Rachel Ryder Thriller Series
Damaging Secrets
Hunted Girl
Overkill
Countdown
Body Count
Fatal Silence
Deadly Means
Final Fix
Dark Intent
To find out more about Carolyn Ridder Aspenson and her books, visit severnriverbooks.com
PROLOGUE
The room was shrouded in darkness punctuated only by a faint ray of sunlight peeking through the closed blinds on the small windows. He knew where he was, yet it was earlier than normal and felt unfamiliar, even strange. He shouldn’t have brought the baby, but his wife had needed rest, and she deserved it. His body tensed and his mind clouded with fear. “Please, I have a family. I won’t say anything. Tell them I won’t say anything.”
Three figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by sinister black masks of anonymity. The scrape of their shoes on the gritty floor reverberated through the room, a haunting rhythm that sent shivers down the man's spine. He tried to escape, but the muscular man blocking the exit pushed him into the back wall.
A chilling whisper pierced the silence. “Shut up!” The sound slithered through the air, two twisted words he knew might be the last things he’d hear. His stomach tightened as the other two men approached. “Please. I’m sorry! I have a daughter. I’ll do whatever you ask, just don’t hurt her.” He held his hands to try to protect himself from the inevitable. “No!”
The two men held him there as the other man laughed. Gloved hands grasped his arms with deft, precise fingers like icy tendrils against his clammy skin. The metallic tang of fear assaulted his nostrils. His vision blurred and his cloudy gaze fixed on the needle gleaming dully in the slowly brightening light. “No, wait!” He struggled, begging his body to move under the men’s grips, but it was impossible. They were too strong.
The sharp sting pierced his flesh. Then a rush of an odd feeling, bittersweet relief, perhaps, or a fleeting respite from the fear that consumed him, an ending to something he never should have started. The taste of bitterness lingered on his tongue, a cruel reminder that the momentary solace came at a grave cost.
He thought of his daughter. Her soft, chubby toes. How they wiggled when she smiled. He saw his wife’s face. Her ocean blue eyes, the curve of her smile. “Please,” he whispered, his breath slowing to nearly nothing.
A torrent of sensations assaulted him as the venomous concoction coursed through his veins. A surge of warmth spread like wildfire, melting away his pain.
His senses became a blurred tapestry of agony and euphoria. His sight distorted, morphing reality into a hallucinatory haze. Sounds echoed, harsh discordant whispers and inaudible words, each note a reminder of his fading connection to the world outside.
His existence grew more fragile as his body succumbed to the lethal cocktail injected into his veins. The room closed in on him, his breaths shallow and labored. He fought to hold on to the flickering embers of life, but he knew they were quickly dying.
The last thing he thought about was his wife and daughter, and then everything went black.
1
We stood at the beer booth of the Hamby spring festival. Lauren Levy, our newest detective, her partner Justin Michels, Rob Bishop, his lady friend Cathy, our police chief Jimmy, and his pregnant wife Savannah, Kyle, and, of course, me. We’d all planned a night out, and I’d lost the coin toss. I’d suggested beer and wings at Duke’s, but instead, they dragged me kicking and screaming to the festival. I wasn’t a beer fan, though I’d grown to tolerate it more than when I’d lived in Chicago, but I would have preferred having it with wings at Duke’s and nowhere near carnival rides. I adjusted my weapon in its holster while nursing my Yuengling Light. None of us left the house without a weapon.
Lauren and Michels discussed their recent call. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the grandeur of Haverty Ranch. She occasionally gestured with her hands as if trying to paint a vivid picture for everyone. “It’s the mac-daddy of horse ranches.” Her face lit up. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Michels’s voice held a hint of concern, and his brows furrowed slightly as he spoke about the recent horse deaths. He seemed genuinely worried about the situation. “If they’d keep their horses alive it’d be much better.”
“Didn’t we get a call from there last month, too?” Bishop asked, raising an eyebrow.
Michels nodded, his expression turning serious. "They’ve lost three horses in the last four months. All recent purchases from Texas,” he added, his voice tinged with concern. “I was supposed to take my fiancé Ashley to dinner, but I ended up dealing with the horse deaths. I didn’t have much of an appetite after that.”
“His fiancé Ashley,” Bishop said. “As if we didn’t know her. I sensed a hint of sadness in Bishop's voice when he added, “That’s awful about the horses.”
"Sounds fishy,” I said. “Or maybe horsey would be better?"
Kyle cleared his throat, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He couldn't suppress his small smile. “That was bad, Rach.”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Never claimed to be a comedian.”
Levy's lips curled into a playful grin. The blinking lights of the tilt-a-whirl were giving me a headache. “Anyway, the vet came and took the horse. He said the previous autopsies showed heart issues, so he expects this breeder has a bad broodmare or stallion with some hereditary heart condition.” She took a sip of her beer as she spoke.
“Always blaming the parents,” Jimmy said. He winked at his wife. She laughed.
Jimmy’s worst fear was not being present for his family, but from what I could tell, he’d been a raging success.
“You think it’s worth looking into?” I asked.
Michels shook his head, his tone slightly dismissive. “He’d only had each horse for three or four days. If there’s an issue, it’s not on his end.”
Bishop's voice held a tinge of curiosity as he asked, “Why were you called out then?”
“Suspicious circumstances,” Levy said. “One of the ranch hands called it in.”
“Bet he got fired,” I said.
Levy rolled her eyes, her frustration evident. As she took a sip of her beer, her lips turned downward in annoyance. “Not sure. He wouldn’t give his name on the call.”
Kyle brought up the possibility of the cartel's involvement, showing how seriously he took his job as a DEA agent. “A shipment of injectable equine medication bottles imported from Mexico to Texas, Longview, I think, was actually liquid methamphetamine.” His eyes darted around, almost as if he was assessing his surroundings for any signs of danger. “A vet in the area reported multiple equine deaths over a short period of time. He ran tests, saw what it was, and reported it. We were able to trace where the bottles came from and busted them with the next shipment.”
Cathy's voice turned somber as she remembered the news about the equine medication incident. She sighed softly, her heart going out to the horses affected. “I think I read about that. It was so sad.”
“You think someone gave these horses meth?” Bishop asked. “Wouldn’t that show up in the autopsy?”
“It should,” I said.
“Yes,” Kyle said. “It should. It’s just something to watch for. The cartel endangers animals in multiple ways. Telling you all of them would take hours.”
Savannah smoothed her hand over her big baby bump. It was a gentle and tender movement, one that seemed involuntary. “I rode for years. Horses are stunning creatures who should be protected.” Her eyes darkened with intensity as she added, “People who buy them for racing ought to have their balls cut off.” Her voice carried a big dose of brewing anger.
“A lot of men ought to have their balls cut off. Present company excluded, of course.”
Levy's playful remark made the men take a step back, even though her voice was laced with humor and sarcasm.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Savannah said.
“Damn,” Michels said. “Is it that time of the month for y’all or something?”
Bishop coughed and said, “Idiot,” at the same time.
Kyle had been standing near Michels and moved away. “Nope. Not going to associate myself with that.”
Levy pointed at Michels. “Dude. Uncool.”
“Bless his heart.” Savannah said. “He must have missed that week in middle school health class.” She patted her baby bump. “FYI, Justin, I’m off that grid for a while. Though I am a hot mess of hormones on the regular.” She sighed. “This baby is twice the size he should be right now.” She grabbed hold of Jimmy’s arm. “You’re going to need a moving truck to haul me to the hospital when I’m in labor.”
He knew better than to respond to that. “Not much we can do about the horses but notify Texas, which we have.” He chugged the last of his beer and checked his watch. “Our free babysitter is leaving in an hour. Let’s get the last bang for our buck at this thing.”
Fall festivals weren’t on any list of things I loved to do. I’d worked a lot of festivals as a slick sleeve in Chicago where I’d fought with and arrested more people than I could count. Festivals were breeding grounds for crime, germs, and accidents. I hadn’t wanted to come to the one set up for Hamby’s Festival, but peer pressure is no joke, and I knew if I didn’t, I’d never hear the end of it. I had my limit, and Jimmy reached it when he stood in front of the ride I detested the most.
I held my palms out and shook my head at Kyle, my live-in partner, as I backed away from it. My hands trembled, my obvious fear frustrating me even more. “There is no way in hell you’re getting me on that thing.”
“Don’t be afraid,” Savannah said. “It’s just a Ferris wheel.”
I swallowed hard. My best friend had just betrayed me. I stared up at the monstrosity of rusted metal and tilted cages that had seen far better days. “Just a Ferris wheel? Are you serious right now? The thing is a piece of junk.” If I believed in God, I would have thought he was on my side in that moment because the ride creaked and groaned as it spun slowly around, its rickety frame swaying in the breeze. “Did you hear that?” I stuffed my hands in my jean pockets. “You all dragged me here, and I’m here. Isn’t that enough?” I hitched out my hip and gave my head a firm, quick shake. “It’s not happening people, so give it up.”
Holding Cathy’s hand, Bishop applied more verbal pressure. “I’ll do it if you do it.”
If I didn’t like the guy so much, I would have kneed him in the groin. “Nice try.” I rolled my eyes. “That didn’t work on me when I was ten, and it won’t work on me now.”
Michels said, “I’m not going on that thing either. It looks like it’s going to break apart right now.”
Finally, someone who understood the dangers of crappy carnival equipment. I pointed at him. “That’s what I think!”
Kyle grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the line. “I’ll keep you safe,” he said while laughing.
Oh, no. He wasn’t going to win that fight. I attempted to pull away, to yank my hand out of his, but Kyle’s a hundred pounds of muscle heavier than me, and he wouldn’t let go. Drastic measures were necessary. I used a common move most law enforcement learned the first week of training, the wrist twist. I twisted my hand in the opposite direction of the way he pulled me. The move was supposed to cause pain for the gripper and force them to let go. But nope. Not with Kyle. He was prepared for it and just tugged me closer toward him.
“Jerk,” I mumbled under my breath. Even after being shot several times, the guy was as strong as a bull.
The corners of his mouth twitched. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead. “I’d never force you to do something that scares you, babe.”
Bishop snorted. Michels cleared his throat, and Savannah burst into laughter. I dropped my head and shook it to hide my smile. Then, forcing a scowl on my face, I glared at Kyle, and I pulled out of his grip, annoyed but amused because he’d said that intentionally.
I pointed to the Ferris wheel for one more attempt to save face. “See that rust? The beams are so rotted you can’t even call them metal anymore. You all go on it.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’ll watch you fall out and make sure to say I told you so.” I took two big steps and stood at Michels’s side. “We’ll meet you back at the beer tent.”
“I can’t go on that thing,” Savannah said. She stumbled over her words. “I’m pregnant and my baby’s afraid of heights.”
Jimmy shook his head. “Y’all are weak. I thought we’d hired better than that.”
“Nope,” Michels said.
“I second that,” I added.
“So much for one last crazy night before the kid comes.”
“Honey, our crazy nights were over the minute we found out I was pregnant the first time.”
“The beer tent again, it is,” he said. “Honestly, I don’t think any of us want to risk our lives on that ride anyway.”
“I don’t want to risk my life on any of them.” I laughed. “But y’all think I’m the weak one. Nice.”
Savannah giggled. “Did you just hear yourself?”
“What?” I asked with a tilted head.
“You just said y’all.”
I furrowed my brow. “No, I didn’t.”
Collectively, the group said, “Yes, you did.”
I realized they were right, and I couldn’t argue against that kind of offense. “Can we get another beer now?”
Savannah grabbed my free hand and pulled me away from Kyle and toward the tent. “Yes, because you love beer so much.”
“It beats carnival rides any day of the week.”
Ferris wheel aside, the festival wasn’t too bad. The spring temperatures had set in with warmer days in the seventies and nights topping out in the low fifties. The air was crisp, and flowers and trees bloomed, creating a beautiful backdrop for the festivities.
The smell of funnel cakes and kettle corn wafted through the air, making my stomach rumble, though not for the same reason as the others. In fifth grade I’d snarfed down an entire stick of bubblegum cotton candy then proceeded to toss it up in front of a boy I liked. I’d had a lot of embarrassing moments in my time on the planet, but that was the first monumental one, and it had stuck. I’ve stayed away from festival food ever since.
Kyle begged me to try a fried Oreo, which I did out of guilt for not going on the death ride, though under complete duress. Fried chocolate and cream didn’t sound appealing in the least, but the flavor was unexpected. I snatched the rest of the Oreo from his hand and stuffed it into my mouth.
“If I didn’t know better,” Savannah said, “I’d think you were pregnant.”
I spit out fried Oreo crumbs. “Never in a million years.” I forced a slightly panicked look from my face. The truth was, I’d never thought I wanted kids. My deceased husband Tommy and I had talked about it, but neither of us were ready at the time. Little did I know that fate would cruelly intervene and snatch away my husband along with any reluctant dreams of motherhood in the blink of an eye, as a crooked politician had had Tommy callously executed before my very eyes. That moment forever stole any chance of bearing his child and the happily ever after we’d been in the middle of living.
