Detective Morgan Reynolds thought her nightmare was over when serial killer Charles ‘The Slasher’ Tate was sent to prison for her husbands murder. But she was wrong. The Slasher has escaped and he’s making it even more personal this time. Tate has kidnapped her son and is giving her 72 hours to find the answers he wants or Jared dies.
Flashing blue and red lights illuminated the night sky as Morgan Reynolds brought the unmarked police cruiser to a screeching halt near the entrance of the harbor. She and her partner John Russostepped from the car and approached a young patrolman standing guard at a sealed off area near the waterfront. He glancedat their detective badges then lifted the yellow crime scene tape for them to duck underneath.
Floodlights were set up and crime scene investigators searched the area. They spotted the medical examiner near the ocean’s edge and walked down to meet him. "What do we have, Evan?" Morgan asked.
"Floater, female, early twenties. She appears to have been in the water three to five days. I’ll narrow it down once I have a better look at her."
"She drown?" her partner, John Russo, asked as they moved in for a closer look at the corpse.
"Would I get you two out of bed at this ungodly hour for a drowning? Look’s like you’ve got yourselves a murder."
Morgan peered down at the lifeless body hidden beneath a white sheet. She glanced over at her partner, "You want the honors?"
Detective Russo pulled back the sheet and Morgan knelt beside the fully clothed blonde. The smell of rotting flesh prompted her to recoil slightly. She raised a hand to her nose in a lame attempt to hinder the assault on her senses and stared at the grotesque sight.
She forced herself to breathe.
It wasn’t just the stench that disturbed her but the condition of the body. The victim’s throat had been cut and there were deep lacerations on her upper torso, arms, and hands.
"She’s been stabbed," her partner said, prompting a hearty chuckle from the medical examiner.
"No kidding Sherlock, and here I thought you got that gold shield of yours out of a box of cereal."
"Actually I got it through the same mail order catalogue where you got your medical degree," Detective Russo retorted.
"Enough you two. I don’t suppose you found any identification on the woman?"
"Afraid not. For now she’s a Jane Doe." His eyes leveled on Morgan. "You know I hate to say it, but this reminds me a lot of…"
"Don’t even go there," Detective Russo quickly cut him off.