Page 1 of Deadly Pride

Chapter One

“Let’s play agame.Pride is one of the seven deadly sins; Beware of pride because you will be returning to the earth and your body will be eaten up by the worms.”

It was the third such notice Harper Scranton had received in a week. What did it mean?

She felt as if the sender was building up to something, but what? She dropped the note into a paper sack with the others then snatched up her ringing phone. “Detective Scranton.”

“We got a call that Lance Richardson was found dead in his penthouse. Foul play is suspected.” Anna Crypton, one of the town’s police officers sounded frantic

“TheLance Richardson? The man who owns Lakeside Resort?”

“One and the same. I also heard the FBI is already headed over there. Something about ongoing messages.”

Harper’s blood ran cold. Her hand holding the phone shook. “I’ll be there in fifteen.” Could the FBI be receiving the same type of messages she was? Until today’s note about playing a game, she hadn’t taken the notes very seriously. More like chalked them up to a nutcase harassing the only woman detective in Oakdale.

She grabbed her jacket and holster then rushed to her jeep. Thirteen minutes later, she marched through the double glass doors of the Lakeside Resort apartments, made a beeline for the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse.

Before entering the apartment, she slipped paper booties over her boots and snapped rubber gloves over her hands. The smell of death greeted her. Not recently deceased then. Enough time had passed for decay to begin.

“It’s not pretty.” A crime scene tech approached her. “Somebody really wanted to embarrass this guy.”

“I prefer to make my own conclusions, but thanks.” She didn’t want anyone else’s opinion to muddy her observations. She pulled a roll-on perfume from her bag and dotted her upper lip to help mask the odor and stepped into the bedroom.

A completely nude Richardson had been posed on his knees, tied to stay that way, in a posture of meekness. His throat had been slit so that he knelt in his own blood. On the wall in what looked like blood had been written Pride Goes Before the Fall.

Harper frowned. “What is it about pride?” She muttered.

“Detective Scranton? I’m FBI Special Agent Liam McConnell.”

She glanced into a face too rugged to be drop dead gorgeous, but handsome nonetheless. Troubled hazel eyes stared down at her from under dark lashes. “Heard you’ve been getting messages.” She motioned for him to follow her out of the room.

“Yes.” His brow furrowed.

“So have I. Today’s mentioned playing a game. Any idea what that means, and why is the FBI involved when we’ve had only one death?”

“I’m here because of having received several messages similar to the one you just mentioned.” His deep voice rolled over her like thunder. “When Richardson’s body was discovered, along with the message on the wall, I knew this was only the beginning to something.”

Harper glanced through the bedroom door at the body. “He’s been made to stay in a posture of humility. The opposite of pride, Agent.”

“Call me Liam. We’ll be working together.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I prefer to keep things on a professional level, Agent.”

Amusement flickered in his eyes. “I agree, but still call me Liam. Instinct tells me this guy won’t be easy to catch, and we’ll be spending a lot of time together. I’ll call you Harper.” He grinned.

Awesome. She forced a smile and turned back to the death scene to see whether she’d missed something. Not wanting to wait for crime scene photos, she started snapping pictures with her cell phone to pore over back at the station.

Being too close to the FBI agent with a slight Irish accent would make it hard to concentrate. She’d have to keep distance between them as much as possible. The past had taught her not to get involved with anyone during an active investigation.

“Why Richardson?” Liam stepped up behind her. “Tell me what you know about him?”

Without stopping what she was doing, she said, “Wealthy. A playboy. Respected but not necessarily liked within the community. Likes the limelight.” The local and surrounding newspapers usually had some type of article on the man in each issue.

“Prideful?”

Her head snapped up. “You could say that. Why?”

He turned his cell phone to face her. “Got another message. The perp has my cell number. This one says, there are seven deadly sins, but many who are involved in each one. Mr. Richardson is only the beginning.”

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