Death Notes Omnibus
Table of Contents
Death Notes- Omnibus
Prequel- Death Notes: The Beginning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Death Notes: Obituary
Chapter 1 – Baltimore 30 years ago
Chapter 2 – Baltimore – Present Day
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Death Notes- Omnibus
Copyright 2015 All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means without prior written permission, except for brief excerpts in reviews or analysis.
Death Notes- Bloodied Words
Prequel available on Amazon- Death Notes: The Beginning
http://www.amazon.com/Death-Notes-Beginning--Book-0-ebook/dp/B01E4G46TG/
Homicide Detective Adila Cooper has dedicated her twenty-one-year career in law enforcement to rid the streets of Baltimore of murderers and criminals. Shunned by her peers, and feared by her suspects, her reputation in the city has taken the shape of legend, and every legend needs a villain.
http://www.amazon.com/Death-Notes-Beginning--Book-0-ebook/dp/B01E4G46TG/
Chapter 1
** A link to the prequel "Death Notes: The Beginning" is available in the front of this book**
Nearly the entire living room was cast in darkness, with only shadows visible. The outline of a nearly empty whiskey bottle rested on the dusty floorboards, and was accompanied by a 9mm Glock and a Baltimore Police Department detective’s badge. Adila Cooper sat cross-legged within an arm’s reach of all three and curled her fingers around the liquor bottle’s neck. She kept her bloodshot eyes glued to the wall ten feet away and pressed the rim of the bottle to her lips. The burn of the whiskey had faded hours ago; now it only dulled the rage that coursed through her veins.
Despite the early-morning hour the apartment was hot. Sweat and liquor squeezed through her pores, and Cooper wiped the matted and tangled bangs off her forehead. She set the bottle in her lap, still keeping her fingers curled around the neck, and blinked the dryness from her eyes. The staring contest with the message written on her living room wall had lasted all night, leaving her with more questions than answers.
The distinct red from the crayon the killer loved to force his victims to write with was the only color in the room. She repeatedly traced over every letter in her mind. It caught the eye like blood and violence, contrasting against the white wall. She didn’t know how many lives he’d taken, but his recent victim was more than just a case file on her desk; this time he’d taken her own blood.
The liquor sloshed back and forth as she tipped the bottle back once more, finishing the last drops of whiskey. She sloppily set the bottle down, and it rolled forward and stopped at the wall. The first rays of dawn crept through the cracks of the blinds to the window behind her and slowly dispersed the darkness. The raid was scheduled in two hours, and with any luck she’d be able to stop the killer before he had a chance to add her sister to his list of victims.
It was a strong lead. Cooper and her partner had been able to tie a bank account used in the killer’s last murder to an address on the west side of the city. Up until now the killer had been smart. But he’d fucked up this time, and Cooper wasn’t going to let him slip through her fingers.
Cooper reached for her badge and ran her thumb over the eagle that sat perched above the shield. She curled her fingers over the badge and slipped it over her neck. She reached for the Glock and pushed herself off the floor. Her knees buckled once she was on her feet, the rush of blood causing her head to feel dizzy. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath, regaining her footing. She holstered the weapon and squinted at the wall one last time.
All of the anger and hate that had simmered through the night boiled over. Cooper felt the rage flow freely like the whiskey in her veins, gaining momentum to push her over the edge, a selfish desire begging to be released. She placed her finger over the first letter written on the wall then traced the words, slowly, deliberately. She pressed harder with every curve until the tip of her finger flushed white. Nearing the end, she curled her hand into a fist and punched the wall. The dull thud echoed through the living room, but the contents of the empty liquor bottle numbed the pain of the impact.
Cooper punched the wall harder. Then again, striking the wall repeatedly, her blows growing faster with every hit. The skin on her middle knuckle cracked and blood seeped from the wound, each subsequent jab staining the white paint red. She screamed. The drywall cracked. One last punch broke the wall’s plane.
Breathless, Cooper yanked her hand free, dust sticking to the blood that covered her knuckles. She flexed her fingers, her joints cracking. She stepped backward and rubbed her hand until she collided into the wall behind her. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, the message the killer had left glued to the inside of her eyelids: Come and get her.
***
A restless quiet filled the car, broken only by the occasional cough, the rip of Velcro from the bulletproof vests, or the clash of the rifle’s metal. One of the officers adjusted the straps on his helmet, his fingers trembling with adrenaline as he pulled it tighter. Every head bobbed along with a dip in the road, and bodies smacked into one another.
“Two minutes!” The orders echoed through the radios as the driver eyed the young SWAT member in the very back of the van. The rookie felt the calm before the shit storm they were about to descend into. In their briefing they weren’t given much information, only that their suspect had previously murdered someone and currently held a new hostage. Though they weren’t given any names, everyone knew the victim’s identity.
The rookie glanced up to the detective in the passenger seat, only the left back of her body in view. He nudged the guy next to him and then motioned up front. “Is that really her?”
The seasoned SWAT officer adjusted the rifle in his lap. “Yeah, that’s her.”
The rookie tried to conceal his nerves and fiddled with the straps on his vest. “Is it true she testified against her old partner a few years ago?” He’d heard nothing but stories, and ever since he was transferred to the precinct he’d lacked the courage to go and speak with the detective himself.
“Yeah.” The officer motioned for the rookie to lean in closer, and they hit another dip in the road and knocked helmets. “Personally, I think she’s a vindictive bitch. When she wants something to go her way, it does. And in the rare case that it doesn’t?” He shook his head, raising his eyebrows. “God help the pair of balls that tries to stop her.”
The rookie’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed what felt like sandpaper. He snuck another glance at the detective and noticed how calm she looked. The way the others spoke of her, he half expected to see some concubine with devil horns sticking out of her head. “You think she falsified her testimony?”
The other SWAT member shrugged his shoulders. “That’s above my pay grade.” He leaned his head back and shut his eyes, patting the rifle across his lap. “I just go where they tell me to. Try not to get shot while we’re in there. I don’t want to have to get to know someone new again.”
“One minute!” the driver barked, and everyone coiled like racers at the starting line
, waiting for the pull of the starter gun. The rookie shoved his thoughts about the detective to the back of his mind and closed his eyes, hoping that whatever hell the woman was leading them into was something he could survive. He squeezed his rifle so tight he felt his hands ache through the gloves.
“Listen up.”
The rookie quickly opened his eyes and saw the Devil Detective herself: Cooper. She stood in the small gap between the front and back of the van. She’d removed her sunglasses, exposing her hazel eyes. They looked tired but angry.
“Our suspect is smart. He’s dangerous. And he has a hostage. You will hold your load until I give the order to shoot. I don’t want any of that fucking cowboy shit today. And you do not take a shot unless you know our hostage is secure.” Cooper took a step forward, looking each of them in the eye, and when her gaze landed on the rookie he felt his blood turn cold. “I don’t give a shit how good you think you are. You won’t be as good as him. Understood?”
The unanimous “yes, ma’am!” rang through the back of the van, and the rookie brought his rifle to stand-by position and focused all of his energy into not shaking.
“Thirty seconds!” the driver yelled, and Detective Cooper returned to her seat.
The van squealed to a stop and the rookie’s mind went blank. The fear and power of the moment before those doors opened wasn’t like anything he’d experienced, and when the sunlight finally cracked through the van’s back doors and he felt that tap on his shoulder, giving him the signal to move, the world around him passed quicker than the speed of a bullet.
***
A knuckle popped, and Cooper winced. The mangled flesh over the knuckles on her right hand was still bloody from the barrage on her living room wall. She flexed her hand a few times, ridding herself of the stiffness, then glanced over to her partner in the driver’s seat. Hart kept both hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road. The muscle along his jaw tightened. She knew he was nervous. All of them were nervous. A sea of shaking hands, jumping legs, and sweaty palms surrounded her, but she only needed them to do their job and provide the blunt force needed to raid the house.
“Thirty seconds!” Hart yelled, keeping his eyes on the road.
The beautiful day did little to improve the neighborhood they drove through. Broken fences, yards more dirt than grass, and sagging roofs lined the streets. Rusted bikes and old jungle gyms lay broken and unused, and blinds were drawn as people hurried back inside their homes at the sight of their convoy. Cooper counted the street numbers on the mailboxes and spied their target three houses down.
Hart floored the accelerator, and Cooper raised her weapon then moved her free hand to the door handle. She braced herself as Hart plowed into the front yard, smashing the fence, and slammed on the brakes just before they reached the front door. The SWAT team exploded out of the rear van doors, and Cooper quickly fell into line as they stormed the house.
The first two SWAT officers used the ram and knocked down the front door. Cooper hurried inside behind them, all of her energy focused on the sight at the end of her pistol. She hurried past the living room, where they had already subdued suspects. It was a mixture of women and men, most of them naked as they were handcuffed and pinned to the floor. Cooper pushed past the living room and into the hallway, which opened up into a back room that was encased in plastic.
Lab equipment sat on tables. Beakers, boilers, and test tubes were filled with liquid, some of the contents broken and spilled in the hasty retreat. Gunfire turned her attention to the door on the opposite side of the room, and she sprinted through the empty drug lab. She stopped at the doorway, checking the hallway before entering, and saw the backs of three SWAT officers crouched by a door further down the hall, gunshots filling the air.
Cooper joined them, approaching carefully. Bullets exited the open door and redecorated the hallway into a block of Swiss cheese. She smacked the SWAT member closest to her on the shoulder and hand signaled the approach inside. The rookie returned a nervous nod and positioned himself low at the corner. Cooper held up her hands and counted down. On zero the four of them burst inside.
A shotgun shell exploded to Cooper’s left, peppering the drywall with lead. Cooper returned fire, sending two bullets into the gunman’s chest, while the second gunman squeezed off a round into one of their own before being taken down. When Cooper looked back to the door, the young man who’d followed her inside lay unconscious on the floor, one his team members hovering over him, checking for a breath and pulse. “Stay with me, rookie!”
Cooper clutched her radio as she exited the room and continued down the hallway. “We have an officer down. We need the medical team inside.” Cooper clicked the radio off and missed the dispatcher’s response as she reached for another door handle at the end of the hall, only to discover that it was locked.
Two more officers appeared in the hallway, one of them carrying the steel ram that was used at the front door. Cooper summoned them to her. They paused at the door then thrust the heavy piece of metal into the wood. The doorframe splintered into toothpicks and Cooper burst inside the room, pistol first. Hands immediately shot up in the air, all belonging to women huddled in the corner. Cooper scanned the faces, but none of them were Beth. “Shit.” She lowered the weapon, and excited chatter flooded the radio.
“We have two suspects fleeing on foot out the back. I’m in pursuit.”
Cooper recognized Hart’s voice and sprinted toward the rear of the house. On the way she passed more rooms, each of them with suspects in cuffs or on the floor. When she burst into the backyard two dogs barked and lunged for her, but their leashes kept them tethered. She pumped her legs, feeling the burn in her muscles and lungs as she listened to the heightened panic of her partner’s voice on the radio followed by gunfire.
“Shots fired! Shots fired!”
Cooper skidded to a stop and shifted direction back to the main street. On the way her left calf cramped, and by the time she reached the road she was half running, half limping. The voice over the radio replied in out-of-breath gasps as she saw Hart walking back down the street with one of the SWAT members marching two men in handcuffs forward. “Suspects in custody. Is the house secure?”
“House secure.”
“Casualties?”
“Roterro is on his way to the hospital. It doesn’t look good.”
Hart and the SWAT member shoved the two men forward. Both suspects were dressed in wife beaters and had shaved heads and chains around their tattooed necks. “Did you see her inside?” Hart asked, keeping a tight grip on the suspect.
“No.” Cooper brushed away a few wild strands of hair that had broken free of her ponytail. By the time they returned to the house, everyone inside was cuffed and dumped into the living room. Cooper pulled a picture out of her back pocket and shoved it in every face she passed. “I’m looking for this woman.”
One of the men on the floor lifted his bald head, flashing the chrome and gold in his teeth. “Yo, fuck you, lady. We ain’t saying shit!”
Cooper eyed him, but the stare down did little to affront the gangbanger’s gaze. She tucked the picture back in her pocket and positioned herself right in front of him. She gripped his throat, her fingers digging into his soft flesh. The man choked, shaking his head, trying to free himself. “I don’t have the time for your small-dick-compensating backtalk. If you know something, speak up.” She leaned her ear closer, but the man only gargled and gasped from the pressure on his throat. “What was that?”
“I don’t…. know… her!”
Cooper grimaced then thrust the man’s head back. He hacked and coughed while she returned to her profiling the rest of the bodies in the room. She pulled the picture back out, lifting their chins up forcefully. “Look at her! Do you know where she is?” Heads shook back and forth in response, and she felt her cheeks flush hot. “Where is she?” Spit flew from her mouth, and the words left in a scream.
“Cooper.” A hand touched her shoulder, and Hart pulled her back. Sh
e felt herself hyperventilating and rushed out front into the open air. The lights from the squad cars flashed silently, and citizens had stepped from the safety of their homes to look at the raid in their neighborhood.
Cooper felt eyes on her, the SWAT team whispering to one another, whispering to themselves. That’s all anyone ever did around her. Whisper. She heard it on the streets, and she heard it within the precinct. The devil detective. She’d welcomed the title in her younger years, wearing it like a badge of honor. But as time passed that badge had hardened like a callus. She distanced herself from everyone: her co-workers, significant others, friends, and family. And now, with her sister in the hands of a psychopath, those whispers were all she had.
“Hey.” Hart stepped around her, breaking her train of thought. “Are you all right?”
Cooper wiped her sleeve under her nose. “I’m fine.” She looked back to the house, forcing herself to regain composure. “We need to get all of those people to the station, get them booked, check any aliases and co-conspirators they might be connected with.”
“You think one of them took Beth?” Hart asked.
“No. But the bank account that purchased those security locks was tied to this address. It means something. We just have to figure it out.”
Chapter 2
The ride back to the station dragged. Cooper rode shotgun and rubbed the dark circles under her eyes, trying to erase the story of her sleepless night. She’d worked these hours before, but for the first time in her twenty-one-year career she felt the hands of time catching up with her.
Hart remained quiet on the way back, and kept both hands on the steering wheel at a perfect two and ten. Her new partner had yet to loosen to her methods, though she’d been impressed by the way he’d handled things so far. She broke the silence, needing a distraction. “You did good today.”