Kill Song

Open Case File

Memo

Honor my father.

There are four types of serial killers.

Hedonistic.

Power/control.

Mission-oriented.

Visionary.

Not all serial killers are caught. At any given point, there could be as many as fifty serial killers active at a time.

Fifty.

I’m looking for one.

He’s male, likely in his forties or fifties now. He’s been killing successfully for more than three decades. I suspect even longer, though our timeline is based only on the earliest victim we’ve identified with his signature mark.

Seventy-nine kills that we are certain of.

A year ago, the unsub’s methods changed. It was a subtle shift. Instead of one or two bodies a year, five have been dropped. Forensic evidence remains inconclusive, but in my gut, I know something’s changed.

Either the unsub has a partner or he’s about to become a spree killer.

It’s only a matter of time before someone puts the coin into the right slot and the kill song begins.

Finding the unsub is my obsession. It was my father’s. He died without solving the mystery.

I won’t.

KILL SONG is a full length dark adult romance and psychological thriller with suspenseful themes. Any trigger warnings will be included in the foreword. Some situations may be uncomfortable for readers. This is a reverse harem novel, meaning the main character has more than one love interest. This is book one in the series.

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Prologue

Vienna

I only had a couple of minutes left. After bath time, Daddy always let me watch one hour of television. Only one hour a day and only if I had done my school work and finished my chores. He always said more would rot my brain and I was a smart girl. Smart girls made smart decisions.

We said it every morning when it was time to do work and every night before bed. I glanced up at the cartoon on the television. Daddy laughed at this one, it was our favorite to watch. I finished the page in my coloring book as the episode ended and it was time.

I tore the page out carefully. Always carefully. Smooth edges. It was a complicated pattern and it took me all day to color on my breaks. I cleaned up my crayons and put my coloring book back under the coffee table after I wiped down the front of it and the crayon boxes. Daddy’s rules.

I was already in my pajamas, but I wanted to give Daddy his coloring page and kiss him goodnight. I turned off the light in the living room and went to the basement door. If the chain was on, it meant go to bed cause Daddy was already busy. The door opened with one tug. No chain.

Yay.

I trotted down the stairs to the basement. Daddy was at his workbench. Fresh plastic lay over the floor and he was lining up his tools. He didn’t have his smock on it so he really hadn’t gotten started yet. At my arrival, he smiled.

“All done?”

I held up the coloring page in triumph. It had been a challenge for me to get the details exactly right. He set one of the tools down in order then took the page and examined it carefully. I didn’t shuffle or jump up and down.

“It’s perfect, sweet girl,” he said with a slow smile of pride and happiness ballooned in my chest. It was the first time I’d done it exactly right. Daddy always gave me a sheet to look at but I only got a minute to study it, then I had to replicate the colors exactly. “You ready for bed?”

“Yes, sir,” I told him, still grinning happily as he squatted down in front of me.

“Breath check.”

I blew on his face and he took a sniff of my minty clean teeth. Never try to fool Daddy that I’d done something when I hadn’t. He waited for me to return with my own challenge.

“Hug check.”

I got hugs or I got kisses. I couldn’t have both. I had to tell Daddy what I wanted.

He set my work aside with care then scooped me up into a hug. Daddy gave the best hugs. I squeezed my arms around his neck and looked over his shoulder. I had the best Daddy, too.

“You need Daddy to tuck you in?”

Sometimes I did, but I was a big girl and Daddy still had work to do. I didn’t need him to check under the bed for monsters either. Monsters knew better than to mess with my daddy.

The monster duct taped to the chair stared at me, eyes bulging and face red, but I just grinned at him. The monsters couldn’t hurt me.

“No, Daddy,” I told him as I leaned back and then kissed his cheek. “I can do it.”

“Good girl. Off to bed then.”

“Good night, Daddy,” I said as I raced to the stairs and I grinned at the monster in the chair before I waved goodbye to him. I wasn’t supposed to talk to the monsters but it always made me feel safer to know Daddy had caught another one.

I skipped up the stairs and let myself out. Then I went up the next flight of stairs to my bedroom. I didn’t even bother with the lights as I clambered across to get under the blankets and I cuddled Monsieur Claude. The panda bear had been mine for as long as I could remember and I took the time to tuck him in with me. While we slept, Daddy would work and in the morning the monster would be all gone.