Denouement (The Darkness Series Book 3) by Cassia Brightmore Page A
Authors: Cassia Brightmore
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grabbed the bags from the counter and once again headed for the diner’s exit.
“Ladies, please be careful and call me if you need anything. If anything seems suspicious call the police right away. If you can’t get in touch with them—call me. I mean it,” he said sternly. Leaving them all on their own didn’t sit well with him but he had no choice. The women called out a goodbye and he left. Pulling out of the parking lot, he passed several cruisers, cherries spinning on their way down the main street.
He’d have another talk with the Chief and let him know he wanted to be more involved in the investigation. He wasn’t a licensed Fire Marshall but he had an eye for crime scenes and could be of some assistance, even in an unofficial way. It was time they all took a more active role in stopping this prick. Seeing that look of terror on Aubrey’s face was not something he wanted to repeat.
CHAPTER SIX
M ila Stevenson studied her chipped manicure in annoyance. Why was it so hard to find good help these days? Letting out an aggravated sigh, she made a mental note to fire her personal assistant, it was her fault for hiring the useless woman that was in charge of spoiling Mila with her weekly mani and pedi’s. They would both be looking for new sources of employment before the day was over.
A stuffed toy flew by her head from the backseat, landing in the cup holder of her black Range Rover. Looking in the rear view mirror, she locked eyes with her two year-old son, who was desperately trying to hold in a giggle behind his chubby little fingers.
When he grinned at her like that, even from behind his hands, his smile reminded her so much of his father. “Dane,” she scolded him. “Do not throw things at your Mommy.” Her little boy giggled and clapped his hands, his bright blue eyes sparkling with glee at the thought of a new game. With a sigh, she pulled her eyes back to the road as she took the turn that would lead her to their destination.
She’d been forced to assume a new identity two years earlier when her plans had been ruined and her operation shut down. Fury simmered in her veins when she recalled how she’d barely made it out of Durham Heights in one piece. That little bitch, Gwyn, had spoiled all her carefully laid out plans. Stolen Brady out from under her nose and destroyed the future she had wanted. She’d barely given a thought to Jed, the fact that he’d lost his life didn’t faze her in the slightest. He’d simply been a means to an end, a pawn in her master plan.
Fleeing Durham Heights with only the clothes on her back had infuriated her. She was a woman used to the finer things in life and having to rely on her feminine wiles to catch a lift out of town and stay in flea infested motels only further fueled the fire of her wrath. Now, two years later, she was back in business and ready to seek her revenge on those that wronged her. Things had already been set in motion, a fact that brought her an insurmountable amount of pleasure. The small town of Stockton Crossing was currently baffled by the killer they’d dubbed the Matchstick Man , and she couldn’t be more pleased with the results his reign of terror were bringing in. It wouldn’t be long until each phase of her plan fell into place and those responsible for obliterating her happy ending, would soon lose all hope of having theirs.
Her Range Rover came to a stop outside a large, gray concrete warehouse. It had taken far too long and far too much money to secure this place. The idiot old man that owned it had actually proved to have a head on his shoulders for business, perhaps that’s how his canning factory had stayed open as long as it had. Several negotiations and one hundred thousand dollars later, the warehouse was hers. Getting out of the car, she stretched for a moment before opening the back door to retrieve Dane from his car seat.
“Out you come,” she told him. A few steps away from the car, she stopped and went
“Ladies, please be careful and call me if you need anything. If anything seems suspicious call the police right away. If you can’t get in touch with them—call me. I mean it,” he said sternly. Leaving them all on their own didn’t sit well with him but he had no choice. The women called out a goodbye and he left. Pulling out of the parking lot, he passed several cruisers, cherries spinning on their way down the main street.
He’d have another talk with the Chief and let him know he wanted to be more involved in the investigation. He wasn’t a licensed Fire Marshall but he had an eye for crime scenes and could be of some assistance, even in an unofficial way. It was time they all took a more active role in stopping this prick. Seeing that look of terror on Aubrey’s face was not something he wanted to repeat.
CHAPTER SIX
M ila Stevenson studied her chipped manicure in annoyance. Why was it so hard to find good help these days? Letting out an aggravated sigh, she made a mental note to fire her personal assistant, it was her fault for hiring the useless woman that was in charge of spoiling Mila with her weekly mani and pedi’s. They would both be looking for new sources of employment before the day was over.
A stuffed toy flew by her head from the backseat, landing in the cup holder of her black Range Rover. Looking in the rear view mirror, she locked eyes with her two year-old son, who was desperately trying to hold in a giggle behind his chubby little fingers.
When he grinned at her like that, even from behind his hands, his smile reminded her so much of his father. “Dane,” she scolded him. “Do not throw things at your Mommy.” Her little boy giggled and clapped his hands, his bright blue eyes sparkling with glee at the thought of a new game. With a sigh, she pulled her eyes back to the road as she took the turn that would lead her to their destination.
She’d been forced to assume a new identity two years earlier when her plans had been ruined and her operation shut down. Fury simmered in her veins when she recalled how she’d barely made it out of Durham Heights in one piece. That little bitch, Gwyn, had spoiled all her carefully laid out plans. Stolen Brady out from under her nose and destroyed the future she had wanted. She’d barely given a thought to Jed, the fact that he’d lost his life didn’t faze her in the slightest. He’d simply been a means to an end, a pawn in her master plan.
Fleeing Durham Heights with only the clothes on her back had infuriated her. She was a woman used to the finer things in life and having to rely on her feminine wiles to catch a lift out of town and stay in flea infested motels only further fueled the fire of her wrath. Now, two years later, she was back in business and ready to seek her revenge on those that wronged her. Things had already been set in motion, a fact that brought her an insurmountable amount of pleasure. The small town of Stockton Crossing was currently baffled by the killer they’d dubbed the Matchstick Man , and she couldn’t be more pleased with the results his reign of terror were bringing in. It wouldn’t be long until each phase of her plan fell into place and those responsible for obliterating her happy ending, would soon lose all hope of having theirs.
Her Range Rover came to a stop outside a large, gray concrete warehouse. It had taken far too long and far too much money to secure this place. The idiot old man that owned it had actually proved to have a head on his shoulders for business, perhaps that’s how his canning factory had stayed open as long as it had. Several negotiations and one hundred thousand dollars later, the warehouse was hers. Getting out of the car, she stretched for a moment before opening the back door to retrieve Dane from his car seat.
“Out you come,” she told him. A few steps away from the car, she stopped and went
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