Did you notice my daughter’s picture? Yep, she is here.
Hi, I am the daughter of the author. What am I doing here? I have a place here. In fact two places. What are they? This is a mystery series. You either have to figure it out or wait until it is reveled.
The person in the black ninja suit sat contemplating the room, savoring the memories of their first kill. Savoring the tortures they had committed, the expressions of pain and dismay on the face of the victim. A victim the killer felt deserved every second of pain and misery they received.
This time there was a distinct thump. Not a scratch.
The ninja rose. Pulled out a thirty-eight Smith and Wesson five shot revolver. Quietly, on padded feet, the ninja went along the wall, following it until they found the handle to the closet.
Inside the closet L C did not hear a sound. She had no clue if anyone were within a thousand miles.
Quickly opened the door.
There was a strangled noise as a bundle fell out on the floor.
The ninja took out a flashlight wrapped in layers of black cheesecloth. Enough light shown for close up inspection, but was hard to see even a few feet away.
Right now it played across L C’s face.
The ninja had spent a lot of time practicing talking using all breath and no voice. A whisper, it carried no clue as to the sex or voice of the person using it. With practice a person can make the whisper carry without strain.
“And what have we here? All tied up and ready for … What are you ready for?”
L C lay on her side, tied to the chair, her face to the floor, unable to answer. Gagged and blindfolded, only aware that this could not be the person who put her in the closet in the first place.
The breathy voice continued. “I know who you are. You are the Davenport girl. The one the police say committed murder right here in this cabin.”
It was the first time L C knew where she was at. She tried to see who was in the room with her, but the darkness and the ninja suit did its job well. The complete breathyness of the voice did its job just as well. All L C could tell was there was a human being in the room with her.
The human being hauled the chair upright with no sign of gentleness. Reached over, grabbed the duct tape covering the gags in her mouth, and yanked hard. To L C it felt as though her skin was being ripped from her face. She tried to yell but gagged on the cloth that had been shoved into her mouth. Those also were pulled out without ceremony.
L C was crying and sobbing, largely incoherent.
The ninja did not hurry her. There were other things to think about. On the surface this was a pure gift. The woman accused of the murder the ninja had committed sitting here like a spitted goose just waiting to be cooked.
On the other hand who, besides the person who had committed the murder, would want to tie her up and have her at their mercy?
Who would bring her here?
Why?
Killing the Davenport woman and hiding her body would be the perfect answer. No trial, no questions, no one probing around. Everyone would believe she had skipped the country.
Except the person who put her here.
The person in the ninja suit slapped L C, hard. “Who did this to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“How did you get here?”
L C could not understand why the person was whispering. “In the trunk.”
The person in the ninja suit was certain there had been no cars in the vicinity when they entered the cabin. Nevertheless they left L C in the chair and went out the front door to look. There were no vehicles anywhere.
Once back L C had calmed down.
Remembering to speak with all breath and no voice, the person in the ninja suit asked, “Someone brought you here and just left you?”
“Yes.”
This was going to take some serious thought.
The expedient thing to do was to simply kill her and dispose of the body where it would not be found. The most pleasurable thing would be to get her somewhere where she could be tortured at leisure.
There was a problem with either plan.
There was no car. No vehicle. Ninja like, the murderer had hiked in. There was no way to get either her living body, or her dead body, away from here easily without detection. Dragging her body across the ground would leave marks that would be almost impossible to cover over. Wouldn’t even need a forensic team to find it. A dog or a sharp detective could unravel everything.
Plus the other thing. Someone had left her and was no doubt planing on coming back.
At the minute it seemed absolutely essential to know who that someone was and why they had tied her up and left her here. The only answer the ninja could think of was “There is another serial killer running around here.” The question was would this other killer be someone who would want to work together, or someone who would be an implacable enemy.
“I have to know.”
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The Homewrecker Series (tm) 
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