Dead by Morning Read Online Free PDF Page B

suggested a foreign birth and upbringing.
    Ever the gentleman his mother had raised him to be, Derek waited for Maleah to enter first. Sanders led them past the large living room with the floor-to-ceiling rock fireplace and down the hall to Griffin Powell’s private study. The door stood open and inside Griff sat behind his antique desk placed in the corner by the windows overlooking the lake. The moment he saw them, he lifted his two hundred and forty pound muscular body from his desk and stood at his impressive six-four height. Griff was a big man, his mere physical presence intimidating. Include his wealth and power and that added up to a man only a fool would ever cross.
    But out there somewhere was a fool who was killing people connected to the Powell Agency.
    Nicole Powell stood with her back to them in front of the massive rock fireplace, one of several in the house. When Griff rose from his desk, she instantly turned to face them, her soft tan eyes focusing on her friend Maleah. Physically, the two women were opposites. Nic was a tall brunette; Maleah a petite blond. Whenever he saw Nic, the first thought that came to mind was Amazon Warrior. Standing five-ten in her bare feet, with an hourglass figure reminiscent of Hollywood sex symbols of the 1950s, the lady’s size was every bit as impressive as her husband’s. Derek genuinely liked both Mr. and Mrs. Powell, but it had been easier to like Nic immediately because of her outgoing personality. Griff was more reserved, a man who made others earn his approval.
    “Please, come in,” Griff said, then he looked at Sanders and told him, “Close the door.”
    Once the five of them were closeted in Griff’s private study, everyone except Sanders seated, Griff spread his big hands out over the folders lying atop his desk.
    “These contain all the information we have on the four murders. The info on Winston Corbett came in mid-afternoon, so we’ve had a chance to go over it.”
    “As you already know, Ben’s dad’s murder fit the same pattern as the previous three,” Nic said. “We don’t need to wait on the autopsy report to know that.”
    “Our killer, for whatever reason, has targeted Powell employees and members of their families.” Griff reiterated an undisputable fact.
    Studying the big man’s somber expression, Derek noted suppressed anger combined with grief and frustration.
    Sanders said, “Protecting the Powell Agency employees and their families is of paramount importance.” He stood, as he so often did, at Griff’s side, his body stationed slightly behind his boss.
    “Everyone is vulnerable because there is no way to predict who will be chosen as the next to die.”
    “I’ve given orders for the security here at Griffin’s Rest to be expanded. As of tomorrow morning, we’re doubling the guards and bringing in more agents to the estate,” Griff explained. “There will be guards here at our home, twenty-four/seven, as well as at Yvette’s retreat.”
    Most people would not have noticed the slight tensing in Nic’s body, but being an observer of human nature, Derek noticed. Whenever Griff mentioned Dr. Yvette Meng, Nic reacted in a subtle, barely discernable way. He suspected Nic’s friendship with Yvette hinged precariously on Nic believing that her husband had never shared a sexual relationship with the exotic Eurasian beauty. Derek also suspected that there was far more to Griff’s apparent symbiotic relationship with both Sanders and Dr. Meng than anyone, including Nic, knew.
    “Obviously, the problem is that we have no idea who the killer has chosen as his next victim,” Nic said. “We’ve read and re-read the reports.” She glanced at Griff’s desktop. “The only thing the four victims had in common was their link to the Powell Agency. They were different ages, different sexes, were murdered in different states. One was a Powell secretary, one an agent, one a lawyer who was the brother of an agent. And now, Ben’s father, a