A Deadly Game (A Friday the 13th Story), page 1
Cover Copy
A short sequel to A Deadly Love . . . A Deadly Game is part of the Friday the 13th Short Story Series. 13 authors ~ 13 suspenseful tales of murder and mayhem on Friday the 13th. Find all 13 short stories HERE.
In the heart of the redwoods, a madman plays a deadly game . . .
Deep in the redwood forest, a serial killer took the lives of three local women and devastated the small town of Woodvale. All in the name of love. Now, three years later, a delusional psychopath is determined to finish what his brother couldn’t . . . and punish the woman who betrayed him.
Sheriff Harley Boone is rocked to his core when the mutilated body of a young woman is discovered in the forest. Flashbacks to the gruesome murders that plagued his town won’t let him rest until he finds the man responsible—putting an end to the nightmare, once and for all. Because the killer is still out there, and his next target is the woman Harley loves.
Caroline Farnsworth didn’t believe she’d ever recover from the trauma of discovering her fiancé was a murderer . . . let alone dare to love again. But she’s back in Woodvale to make a new life with Harley—only to face the unimaginable. With a killer stalking her every move, she’s fighting for her future . . . if she survives.
“Jannine Gallant gives you a satisfying read.”—Kat Martin, New York Times bestselling author
“Jannine Gallant is an exciting new voice in romantic suspense.”—Mary Burton, New York Times bestselling author
“Every Step She Takes delivers enough twists and turns to keep the reader guessing until the end.”—Nancy Bush, New York Times bestselling author
“Every Move She Makes will have you looking over your shoulder long after the lights go out.”—Nancy Bush, New York Times bestselling author
“Jannine Gallant is a talented author who knows how to grab your attention and keeps the suspense in high gear until the end.”—RT Book Reviews on Buried Truth
“Gallant’s well-wrought second Siren Cove contemporary…will keep the reader enthralled until the explosive conclusion.”—Publishers Weekly on Lost Innocence
“In Gallant’s gripping third Siren Cove romantic thriller…mystery adds intensity to this fast-faced story.”—Publishers Weekly on Hidden Secrets
Books by Jannine Gallant
Counterstrike
Fatal Encounter
Lethal Memory
Imminent Danger
Ominous Legacy
Siren Cove
Buried Truth
Lost Innocence
Hidden Secrets
Born To Be Wilde
Wilde One
Wilde Side
Wilde Thing
Wilde Horses
Who’s Watching Now
Every Move She Makes
Every Step She Takes
Every Vow She Breaks
Secrets Of Ravenswood
We’ll Never Tell
She’ll Never Rest
He’ll Never Know
Redemption Texas
Nothing But Trouble
Asking For Trouble
A Deadly Love
Road To Serendipity
An Uncertain Destiny
Bittersweet
A Deadly Game
A Friday the 13th Mystery
Short Story Sequel to A Deadly Love
Jannine Gallant
Table of Contents
Cover Copy
Other Books
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
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
About the Author
Copyright
A Deadly Game
Copyright © 2020 by Jannine Gallant
This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Jannine Gallant.
Cover Art by Creative Author Services
Published by Jannine Gallant
United States of America
First Electronic Edition: November 2020
Dedication
To my author pals who make this writing journey so much fun!
Chapter One
Staring into the swollen, red-rimmed eyes of the woman tied to the giant redwood tree, Damien Grissom smiled in satisfaction.
Night had fallen, dark and moonless, while he’d chased her through the woods, drawing ever closer as she sobbed and stumbled through the huckleberry bushes and poison oak. When he’d put on a final burst of speed and reached out to grab her messy, blond ponytail, yanking her off her feet, euphoria had surged like a raging torrent.
Game over. Despite the head start he’d given her, he’d still won easily. His bitch of a foster mother, who’d taunted him for being a weakling as a child, could roast in hell knowing he was stronger and faster than he looked.
“Why?” Her voice rose in a shriek.
His attention jerked back to the pathetic woman shivering at his feet. Not that anyone would hear her this deep in the old-growth forest. A cold November wind carrying a hint of rain blew through the trees and rustled the branches high overhead as her cry was swallowed by the night.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
He pulled a knife from the sheaf he wore tied to his leg and held it up in the glare of his headlamp, letting the light shine up and down the long, deadly blade. “Practice.”
“Huh?” Her jaw sagged open. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you don’t matter. Not in the least. I just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t fail when it came to the main event. Practice makes perfect. Right?” He chuckled softly. “Tonight is about perfecting my technique.”
“Let me go.” She gazed up at him with terror-filled eyes. “You caught me. If I’m not important, you can turn me loose.”
“I’m afraid I can’t.” His tone was conversational. “There’s more to the game than just the chase. What comes next could be a little tricky.”
“Sick freak!” Her voice broke on a sob. “I heard about those women that monster killed here three years ago, but he’s dead and buried.”
“Elliot wasn’t a monster.” His words slashed through her incessant weeping.
“I thought I’d be safer in Woodvale than on the streets of L.A.” She ranted on and on, ignoring his interruption. “Friday the thirteenth, and who do I happen across? Some lame-ass, copycat killer.” Her laughter was edged with hysteria. “Talk about your bad luck.”
His chest rose and fell as he held his temper. “I have to finish what my brother started. I owe him that much. He always did his best to protect me, even though they beat the shit out of both of us.”
Finally, she stopped crying and stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about, you crazy bastard?” She yanked hard against the ropes digging into her flesh beneath the long, white nightgown, but his knots didn’t budge.
“I’m talking about Caroline.” Her name slid off his tongue on a sigh. “He killed those other women out of love for her, and now she plans to betray his memory. Slut!” Spittle flew, and he wiped his lips. “Elliot wouldn’t have minded if she’d turned to me for comfort. But instead, she gave herself to the man who chased him down like a rabid animal.”
“You’re pathetic.” The woman broke down sobbing again. “If you won’t let me go, then kill me and get it over with.”
“I’m not in a rush.” When he stepped closer, she cringed, and he smiled in satisfaction. This meaningless little bitch might belittle him, but he held all the power.
“Impotent asshole!” She yanked harder. “Let me go! It isn’t my fault some woman doesn’t give a shit about you.”
“Caroline liked me well enough before he showed up.” Anger burned in his gut, and his hand shook as he tightened his grip on the knife. “We could have been happy together like she was with Elliot if she’d just given me a chance.”
“Caroline? Are you talking about the other woman staying at the bed and breakfast?”
“For now, maybe. It’s only a matter of time until she moves in with that creep.” Just saying the words made him want to lash out.
“If that’s true, then she’s the one who should pay, not me. She’s the one who broke your heart. Please don’t kill me. Please!”
Her whiny cries screeched across his nerve endings until he wanted to cover his ears. “Shut up! Just shut up. It’s time.”
Mucus mixed with the tears running down her face. “What are you going to do to me?”
He gripped the front of the white nightgown, just like the one their foster mother had worn. Attention to detail was important, and he wanted this time to be exactly like the last.
“I intend to do what my brother did. I’m going to cut out your heart.”
* * * *
Jesse Tremayne walked slowly through the forest, his arthritis paining him some as a gentle rain fell. The night before, he’d heard faint sounds, like the cry of a bird deep in the forest. They’d woken him from a light slumber. He never seemed to sleep soundly anymore, what with having to get up to pee every few hours. Getting old was a bitch.
He used his walking stick to swish aside a clump of ferns as he trudged onward.
The thing was, birds didn’t chirp in the dark of night. Except for owls, and what he’d heard hadn’t sounded like an owl hooting.
The hair had stood up on the back of his neck as his mind flashed to the awful winter three years before when shrill cries had woken him on more than one night. Three young women had lost their lives, and he’d been unlucky enough to find the first body. A sight he’d never forget.
A shudder worked through him as he pushed the memory aside.
Still, he’d gotten up at first light, ate a bowl of oatmeal, and left his cabin to tromp through the wet forest. Keeping his eyes peeled—just in case he hadn’t been imagining things. When something white caught his eye through a stand of Sitka spruce, his steps faltered.
“Please, God, no.”
Running a trembling hand over his long, white beard, Jesse pressed his palm hard against his jacket front where his heart pounded erratically. On unsteady legs, he pushed through the bushes and stopped in front of a giant redwood.
“Nooooo.” His voice cracked.
The woman’s head hung downward, her dark-blond hair dripping from the rain. A white cotton nightgown was wrapped around her legs, and her arms were pulled behind her and tied with a rope to the tree.
There was no need to step any closer to confirm she was dead. The ghastly, bloody hole in her chest made survival an impossibility.
He fumbled his cell phone, nearly dropping it as he pulled it from his pocket and pushed the buttons to connect to his grandson. Dillon picked up on the second ring.
“Morning, Grandpa. Did you sleep well?”
“No, I’m afraid I didn’t.” He swallowed hard. “I heard noises in the woods last night.”
“Are you okay? You sound funny.”
“I got up early to investigate.” Even though his breakfast threatened to come back up, he couldn’t drag his gaze away from the woman. “I found her.”
“Grandpa, what’s wrong?” Dillon’s voice deepened with concern. “Found who?”
“A girl, just like the others. Dead in the woods with her heart cut out. It’s happening all over again. A madman is loose in our forest.”
Chapter Two
Harley Boone held his phone clamped to one ear while he drove his sheriff’s rig like a bat out of hell through town, not even slowing for the stop signs. “Jesse doesn’t recognize the woman?”
“Grandpa wasn’t sure. I told him to stay back so he wouldn’t contaminate the crime scene. He couldn’t get a good look at her face, but he did say she’s blond.”
Relief flooded through him. Not Caroline, thank God. He’d tried to call her while he was eating breakfast, before Dillon had reached him to report his grandfather’s horrific news, but she hadn’t answered her phone.
“I’m turning onto your road now.” His tires screeched as he took the corner. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He disconnected and dropped his cell on the seat. Pressing harder on the accelerator, he covered the last mile in record time and rocked to a stop in front of his buddy’s home at the end of the dead-end road.
Dillon left the house and met him in the front yard, his green-gold eyes shadowed with a mix of emotions. Anger. Fear. Sorrow. He’d nearly lost Brooke, the woman who was now his wife, to a serial killer three years before. She stood on the doorstep, holding their eighteen-month-old daughter, Jessica June, on her hip as she stared at him across the lawn.
“Where’s your grandpa now?”
Dillon ran an unsteady hand through his hair. “I told him to head back to his cabin, that we’d meet him there. The dead woman was left a good mile from his place, off the beaten track. If he hadn’t heard noises in the night and gone looking in that direction, she could have been out there for days, even weeks before her remains were found.”
“Let’s head out, then.” Harley glanced up at the cloudy sky. “At least the rain seems to be letting up. Once I see what we’re dealing with, I can call the state police for backup. There’s not much I’ll be able to do without a forensics team.”
“I’ll grab a jacket.”
As his friend ran back toward the house, Harley turned to stare at the bed and breakfast on the other side of the cul-de-sac. Caroline was staying at Ransom House with Brook’s Grandma June rather than moving straight in with him. She was still hedging on living together, even though she’d committed to moving back to Woodvale and had given up her house in Eureka.
He’d hoped to spend the next few days convincing her they were ready to take their relationship to the next level, not investigating what sounded like one hell of a gruesome murder.
Dillon kissed his wife, stroked his daughter’s blond hair, and then shoved their giant mongrel dog back into the house before hurrying across the grass. “I’m ready.”
Side by side, they strode toward the path leading into the woods. Neither had much to say as they hiked deeper into the old growth forest. Not until the smoke from Jesse’s wood stove became visible, filtering through the redwoods.
“I can’t believe Grandpa has to go through this all over again. He’s too old to take this kind of stress. The last time tore him up.”
“I hear you.” Harley glanced over his shoulder. “Some asshole, psycho, copycat killer, bringing back awful memories for all of us.”
“That’s what you think this is? Some fan of Elliot Locke’s, trying to make a name for himself in some twisted way by copying his murders?”
“If what you described is accurate, right down to the old-fashioned white nightgown the woman was wearing, I don’t know what else we can think.” He pushed aside a low-hanging fir branch. “I can’t imagine how Caroline will feel when she hears the news.”
“She’ll have you to lean on, and she’s one hell of a strong woman. Had to be after what Elliot put her through.”
Harley didn’t respond, hoping the woman he loved wouldn’t sink back into the dark place that had nearly consumed her after discovering her fiancé was a monster. She’d fought hard to put the past behind her and start over, and the last thing she needed was some bastard dredging up those memories.
“There’s Grandpa.”
Jesse left his cabin to walk across the small clearing toward them. When his grandson slung an arm around his shoulders in a quick hug, the old man straightened his spine. “You got here quick. Let’s get this over with.”
They set off, heading south-east, following Jesse’s lead. He kept a steady pace, trudging through bushes and ferns, finally slowing to a stop.
“She’s just ahead on the other side of that stand of spruce.”
“Why don’t you take a seat on that log, Grandpa.” Dillon took his arm and guided him toward a fallen tree. “We’ll be back to ask any questions Harley may have in a few minutes.”
Jesse nodded and dropped onto the rotted trunk. His hands trembled as he clenched them around his walking stick. “I’ll admit I’m not anxious to see her again.”
Leaving the elderly man, Harley pushed through the wet branches and came to an abrupt halt. The woman was just as Jesse had described her. Bound to a giant tree trunk, head hanging forward over her massacred chest. Whoever had carved her up hadn’t been as skilled with a knife as Elliot had been. A shudder rippled through him.
“Jesus.” Dillon’s face lost some of its color.
“It’s bad. Worse than I imagined.”
Harley pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and put them on before approaching the woman. With care, he raised her chin, and her straggling hair fell away from her face. Hazel eyes stared blankly, frozen in a look of sheer horror.
