Grave Situation (Detective Allan Stanton Book 1)
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Halifax cop Allan Stanton is a troubled homicide detective who has lost everything, including his family and his sense of justice. When he finally decides to leave the force and start over, he's assigned a string of murders that all bear the signs of a serial killer collecting trophies.
As Stanton unravels each grisly crime scene, the mounting evidence points uncomfortably close to him and a case more disturbing than anything he's ever seen.
purpose. He mopped his forehead with the sleeve of his plaid shirt and turned around. A huge gunnysack lay sprawled next to the mound of earth he had shoveled from the hole. It had taken him every ounce of strength to carry the sack up here. At times he had to stop to catch his breath, as the contents inside were heavy and awkward. During the last few legs of his trip, he was forced to drag it. He threw down the shovel and walked over to the sack, looking at the bulges within. Here and there
dissections too. I must say the fetal pig was my favorite though. Call me weird, but during my years in university I kept one preserved in a jar in my dorm room.” “And I bet you had a name for him too?” “I did.” Sodero smiled. “I called him Fred.” Allan looked at Coulter. “Did you tell Sodero about the grave desecration in Acresville, about the possible connection to the murders there and here in the city?” Coulter shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe in passing.” “He was at the office when I
water coruscated with light. It was quiet here, serene with the murmur of the harbor. The atmosphere of the waterfront was much different in the daytime—a beehive of locals and visitors. There was a rich history to see—a reflection of old, the promise of new. Eighteenth and nineteenth-century architecture blended with modern buildings encased with glass. Greg carried a flashlight in his right hand. After flicking it on, he played the beam around. Lampposts lent the dock a touch of light, but
me the strength to help me through this. I’m on pins and needles right now. And the cravings are hitting me hard. May 10. Overcast. No rain however. Yet. I never slept all night. When I got up, I felt queasy. Probably because I haven’t eaten since yesterday and my bad nerves. I doubt if I’ll be able to hold anything down. My stomach doesn’t feel that bad when I lie down, only when I’m standing up. So I’ll just lie here some more. I keep praying Trixy will walk through the door. God, where is
the surface, floating face down with the limbs hanging beneath. It was a woman, nude and bloated. Now, thirty minutes after the discovery, the Underwater Recovery Team anchored their Boston Whaler near the body. As the boat rocked gently in the waves, Monika Chase braced herself on the gunwale and peered over the side. She was a thirty-four year old police diver who was fit and lean with blonde-haired good looks. “I wonder how long she’s been out here?” she asked. Her dive partner, Robert