Chapters (31)
- Cover
- Subway Slayings
- Subway Slayings
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- Table of Contents
- MEMENTO MORI
- 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
- Up next…
- About C.S. Poe
- Also by C.S. Poe
“He sent that message Tuesday, April 28. He inquired, after two weeks had passed, for an update on Tuesday, May 12, at 4:47 p.m. A second text was date-stamped 6:10 p.m. The last message was delivered Wednesday, May 13, at 7:12 a.m., when Reynold implied he’d find what he was looking for himself.” Larkin made a hard right on West 184th Street.
“You think he has a kid at his apartment?” Doyle protested, his voice rising suddenly, uncharacteristically, in volume.
“I think it’s been a long time since I’ve been surprised by the depths human depravity is capable of reaching, and if there’s even a remote possibility that it involves a child, I’m willing to break a few rules of the road in order to prevent a tragedy.”
The sudden whir of sirens sounded, and red and blue lights spun in Larkin’s rearview mirror. He ignored the cruiser attracted by an expensive car they could ticket the hell out of, and turned down the one-way, tree-lined Bennett Avenue. Larkin hit the brakes as they neared West 181st Street, parked in the middle of the road, and climbed out from behind the wheel. He slammed the car door and held his badge in his free hand to the cruiser pulling up hard behind him.
“Detective Everett Larkin, Cold Case Squad,” he called as both uniformed officers got out, hands going to their service weapons. He glanced over the roof of the Audi to see Doyle displaying his own identification, and then he approached the officers. “My partner and I are about to enter building 52. We believe there’s a person of interest in the garden apartment who is currently destroying evidence in an ongoing murder investigation. There is the possibility of a female minor being held captive on the premises.” Larkin tucked his badge away and pointed to the six-story apartment building on his right. “Backup has already been requested, but seeing as you two are especially gung-ho, please take point on the garden’s back door.”
The female officer who’d been driving, her eyes now as big as saucers, gave Larkin a curt nod and spirited “Yes, sir,” before directing her partner to follow.