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21 Weeks: Week 20
21 Weeks: Week 20
21 Weeks: Week 20
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21 Weeks: Week 20

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A fire at a family home carries echoes of Sergeant Bishop’s past. The only survivor a young boy, he is also marked as their serial killer’s next victim. As the team rallies to keep the kid out of the hands of a madman, they are so focused on their victim they may miss something that causes one of their own to pay the ultimate price.

21 Weeks is a fast-paced police procedural thriller series that ramps up in intensity with each victim that falls until its explosive final week.

Warning: This series is about a serial killer. There will be violence. There will be language. There will be other adult things. It is intended for a mature audience.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRiley LaShea
Release dateMar 20, 2016
ISBN9781310451904
21 Weeks: Week 20
Author

R.A. LaShea

R.A. LaShea is a pen name of author Riley LaShea. Under this name, LaShea writes police procedural/thriller 21 Weeks.

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    Book preview

    21 Weeks - R.A. LaShea

    21 Weeks

    WEEK 20

    R.A. LaShea

    21 Weeks: Week 20

    Copyright 2015 R.A. LaShea

    Smashwords Edition

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form, without written permission of the author. Thank you for supporting the author’s rights and buying an authorized edition of this e-book.

    Visit http://www.lasheathrillers.com/sign-up/ to sign up for the 21 Weeks mailing list and receive updates on upcoming Beck Nash thrillers.

    CONTENTS

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    6

    7

    8

    Author’s Note

    1 - 9820 Creston Lane - Monday, 5:05 a.m.

    Flames extinguished as they rolled up to the scene, Beck’s eyes shifted from the dark, smoldering outline of three-quarters of the house to the nearly untouched attached garage. It was like a before and after photo in a fire safety ad. Look at how this beautiful home was decimated by this powerful force of nature.

    This is a house fire.

    Well deduced, Trevor. Killing the engine, Beck jerked the parking brake up, looking for Bishop in the crowd, and spotting him as the congregation of firefighters broke apart and headed off into the charred remnants of the family home left behind by the blaze.

    So, why are we here? Trevor reasonably asked. Because Beck hadn’t told him anything. When she woke him half an hour before, she just told Trevor to get dressed because they had a scene.

    There’s a reason, she uttered.

    And? That reason is?

    There was a fire on this same lot twenty-five years ago, Beck stated.

    That’s weird, Trevor granted. But it really seems more ‘I put a curse upon your land’ than serial killer.

    Bishop’s family was killed in that fire. Beck glanced over to him, and Trevor blinked for several suspended seconds, before turning his gaze back out the windshield.

    Shit.

    Pretty much, Beck uttered, steeling herself for the reality that was coming as she threw open the door.

    Hey. Approaching Bishop from the side, Beck could see the fury in the rigid set of his neck and shoulders, but it was slightly obscured by Bishop’s bewilderment, as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. Beck suspected it was the same combination of sentiments the man wore the first time he stood before that lot. Knowing who was responsible, he was angry and out for revenge, but he was also perplexed and disbelieving that one man could do so much evil.

    Hey. Glancing toward her, Bishop’s eyes drifted past Beck’s shoulder to Trevor coming up at her back, before moving to Beck’s 240 double-parked in the street. You two came here together?

    Yeah. Though there was more of a question in that question, it wasn’t something Bishop needed to know. Are you okay?

    They haven’t found anyone yet. Apparently, Bishop didn’t want to answer the complicated questions either. Neighbor’s dog woke her, and she saw the flames. Called it in. When the fire department got here, the place was totally engulfed. Nothing they could do but contain it.

    That wasn’t unexpected. Typically, by the time flames were visible from outside of a building, it was too late for the people inside. Take it that means there weren’t any people standing out here who escaped the fire when they arrived, Beck said, and Bishop answered the question with a slow shake of his head.

    Maybe they weren’t home, Trevor offered.

    Neighbor said she saw them come in around eight, Bishop quashed the hopeful possibility in a sentence. She said it looked like they’d been Christmas shopping.

    No hypotheticals left to pose, Beck looked to the house and its current condition. Center gutted, the roof and second floor had collapsed in a ‘V’, which would make the process of finding bodies all the more difficult, and dangerous, for the firefighters in uniform. As unstable as the structure looked, they would be lucky if the arson investigators got to investigate the crime scene at all. This was why people used fire, after all. Evidence burned up, and what little remained, like accelerant and ashes, could evaporate or blow into another yard in a matter of hours.

    We’ve got two adults here.

    Close enough to the fire lieutenant to make out the voice coming over his radio, Beck, Trevor and Bishop heard the initial report from inside.

    There are supposed to be four children, ages fourteen, ten, eight, and five. Have you found any kids yet? the fire lieutenant asked in return.

    I think Morrison might have one. That’s an affirmative, Sir. The youngest was sleeping in the parents’ bed.

    Eyes falling shut, Beck could still see where this was all going with perfect clarity, and, when she glanced to Bishop as she opened them, she could tell he could too.

    We’ve got another one. One of the middle two. Can’t tell which.

    I’ve got the teenager, another voice added a minute later.

    There’s one more, the fire lieutenant reminded them, visibly anxious as he took his finger off the talk button.

    "I found two empty beds. One probably the little one’s. No one in the other.

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