When the body of a man is washed up in the river, Turtle Island, Missouri is awoken from being a peaceful haven and thrust into the attention of the national media. The case is solved rather all too conveniently and FBI agent Georgina O'Neil is left with severe doubts—have they caught the right man? This feeling is justified after case Detective Montoya and his family are kidnapped and a web site is set up promising America its first "live execution." Turtle Island is now thrust into global spotlight and the world gets to vote on who the killer will choose next. As O'Neil digs deeper she finds evidence of a pedophile ring that could run into the heart of the police. No longer sure who she can trust, O'Neil and her case partner, Detective LaPortiere, have to find the Montoya's and save them before an 8pm deadline. The clock is ticking.
|Publisher:||Caffeine Nights Publishing|
|File size:||831 KB|
|Age Range:||18 Years|
About the Author
Born in East London in 1962. Darren's first writing success came in the mid 1990's, winning first place in a short story competition for a BBC Radio 4 arts program. The thrill of hearing his words read on Radio 4 drove him to write short stories of a dark and quirky nature before progressing to lengthier works. Darren then crafted his first novel ‘Turtle Island’, a crime thriller, which was picked up by an American publisher.
Darren is now a seasoned author with another novel, ‘Tripping’, a surreal black comedy described as chick-noir, published. The sequel to Turtle Island is now completed, entitled ‘Dark Country’, and a fourth novel is in-progress which is another stand alone book outside of his series of Georgina O’Neil crime thrillers.
Read an Excerpt
Smile, you're Dead
Max Dalton did not struggle nor fight; his body hit the water with a stinging embrace, though he did not feel any pain. He was past caring; technically still alive, but more than ready to welcome death.
The water was warm, inviting. Max had no real comprehension of where he was, and even less now of who he was. Slowly, he submerged. The warm fluid filled his mouth, the cavern enlarged by the removal of his tongue, lips and teeth. He breathed the water in through his nose; at first panic at the realisation that there was no way of expelling it, then only the comfort of allowing it to fill his lungs.
The alarm was ringing in his ears with a fuck you attitude that was sure to get Leroy LaPortiere out of bed, but on the wrong side. The heat was closing in already and his clock cheerfully told him that it was just after five thirty in the morning. His girlfriend, Lia, was lying on top of the sheets, her body glistening with perspiration like morning dew. Her arm outstretched touching his naked back.
‘Go to sleep, hon.’ Leroy wanted to roll on top of her and slip deep inside her.
‘Be careful, baby.’
‘Sure hon, nothing ever happens around here.’
And he was right. He was on the money one hundred per cent of the time, but a winning streak like that has to end some day.
After a cold shower, Leroy was ready to face another day. Breakfast, would consist of an artery hardening and unsatisfying stop at Wendell’s Diner for an early morning mixed grill, hash browns and a gallon of extra strong coffee. The longevity of officers of the law on Turtle Island was not dictated by the rising tide of crime but by the accelerating spread of saturated fats through increasingly narrowing arteries.
‘You gonna die.’ A familiar voice came from behind.
‘That is the most sense you’ve talked in a long time my man. We all gonna die.’ Leroy didn’t need to lift his head from his grease sodden breakfast to know his partner was standing behind him. The smell of Giorgio Armani aftershave followed Rick Montoya around like a dust cloud announcing his arrival. Montoya dragged a chair over the stone tiled floor and sat next to LaPortiere. He waited patiently for a passing waitress before ordering his morning meal.
This is Groundhog Day, TV, Football, Sex and living. The game plan was that they would meet every day for the next twenty years, doing the same thing until they cashed their pensions, sold their homes and sailed around the world. Of course they were going to sail around the world; why wouldn’t they?
Montoya, like his partner Leroy LaPortiere, worked for Missouri Police Department. LaPortiere for the past twelve years, Montoya, only one year in Missouri, twelve in Chicago before that.
Rick dropped a small brown envelope onto the table next to Leroy.
LaPortiere opened the manila envelope, noticing that it was addressed to Captain Norman Frusco, his chief. He withdrew a small bundle of Polaroid photographs, knowing that it wasn’t going to be Rick’s holiday snaps.
‘You know, I really thought that this sort of thing was confined to the big cities.’ Leroy shuffled through the photos. ‘This is the John Doe?’ He studied the victim, or what was left of him. He stared into the white bloated face, the lifeless eyes; it was something a movie could never capture, no matter how good the actor. The mask of death was something that could never be faked even with the best special effects and yet here he was looking at a cheap Polaroid and the look was unmistakable.
LaPortiere shivered. ‘Like I told you, we all gotta die someday.’
Narla Fleisher brushed her teeth vigorously while staring at her face in the bathroom mirror. She swirled water around her gums, dislodging toothpaste and various debris from last night’s dinner. She smiled, thoughts of the previous evening still fresh in her mind.
‘Honey, Don't forget its parent evening tonight.’ She called through the adjoining door.
An audible moan came from the en-suite bedroom.
‘Harley's expecting us both, so try not to get tied up with work, okay?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Charles Fleisher rolled over in the bed onto his back and sat up.
The sunlight streamed through the window, which Narla had already opened to fend off the beginning of the day's intense heat. Charles massaged away the early morning fatigue from his face, sweeping back his dishevelled mousy brown hair. Narla walked into the bedroom, naked from her shower.
Charles admired his wife’s body as much as when he first saw her naked.
Narla laughed and playfully threw the towel at her husband, all suburban happiness with no dark undercurrent. Charles leapt out of bed and grabbed his wife from behind. She enjoyed the sensation of his bare skin rubbing against her own.
‘Hey, I thought you had enough of that last night.’ She turned and immediately felt how excited Charles had become. ‘Obviously not.’
She pushed his powerful frame away from her and he over-dramatically fell backwards onto the bed. His hands reached out and grabbing her arms, he pulled her on top of him.
‘I've just showered.’ Narla only slightly protested.
Leroy studied the pictures for hours. He searched through files on missing persons. He was wearing the face of a man that had spent too much time delving through the minutiae of boring details of boring people’s lives.
‘I think our break is only going to come when we find the body. The savagery of the killing…the mutilation, the killer wants us to be aware of his existence.’ Rick broke the silence.
‘Something like that.’
Leroy looked at the photographs. ‘D'you have a theory?’
‘Curiosity, that's all. This guy really is pulling our chain.’ Rick continued. ‘Sending us the photos.’
‘There might be clues here.’ Leroy grinned
‘He likes to play games.’
‘Yeah, one big power game. The more we look at this, the more we might learn about him.’
‘Ring Lia, it's going to be a long night.’ Rick settled back in his chair.
‘Shit man! Lia and I were goin’ out tonight. She’s gonna kill me and you're responsible. By morning you’re gonna be looking for another murderer.’ Leroy strolled away, tutting his disapproval. ‘I need a holiday from this dump.’
‘Harley really is an asset to this school, Mr Fleisher.’ The grinning form tutor smiled flirtatiously at Charles. She crossed her legs, allowing her skirt to fall open briefly, exposing long tanned legs. Charles could smell her. The bitch was in season. Miss Fuller made no apology nor looked even faintly embarrassed. She stared into his eyes and pulled the skirt back to modestly cover her legs.
Narla coughed indignantly. ‘Do you think she's making progress?’
Charles thought she was.
‘Oh, most definitely.’ Miss Fuller's southern drawl placed her somewhere between Missouri and Mississippi, what the 'Narla Fleisher's' of this world would have branded poor white trash, three or four decades ago, and even now only met at PTA meetings and on daytime soap operas. Mind enemas for the non-working classes.
Narla was impressed by Miss Fuller’s simple beauty, her long, fine, sun bleached hair, her body, with only the merest hint of a tan, her smooth, moisture holding skin, wrinkle free and unblemished with a pair of green eyes to die for. Narla imagined a school full of pubescent boys with permanent hard-on’s.
‘Harley is top of her form in most subjects. She is a very bright young girl. Her maths still needs some work, but even here she has excelled against this time last year.’ Miss Fuller continued
Charles looked across the hall at his daughter, Harley was sitting with a group of friends they were laughing and chatting the way ten year old girls do, with feverish excitement, possibly about the latest hunk boy pop group or an exchange of fashion tips which will come back to haunt them in future years.
Harley broke from her conversation briefly to look up and wave affectionately to her father.
Charles smiled back.
Later in the evening, Narla cornered Charles in a quiet moment. ‘Miss Fuller wants to fuck you.’
Charles laughed. ‘Do you blame her?'
Narla snorted. ‘You smug bastard.’
‘I love it when you talk dirty.’ Charles continued to mock his wife, enjoying the frisson of the moment.
‘Did you think she was attractive, I know I did?’
‘Sure, if we ever have a son I'll send him here.’ Charles pulled his wife closer. ‘Seems our daughter is the school genius, though that's not surprising with our genetic pool.’
‘Hey, Mr Modesty, be careful or we may have to widen the door frames.’ Narla leaned up and kissed Charles gently on the lips.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Great writing & aplot that is dark & creepy-
Turtle Island by Darren E. Laws is the first in a trilogy called the Georgina O’Neill Trilogy. Georgina O’Neill is an FBI agent who arrives in an ordinarily quiet town in Mississippi to find a dead body and a murderer to catch. Rick Montoya and Leroy LaPortiere are local detectives who are shocked by the sudden appearance of murder in their town. Three of them work together to case the murder as the case escalates and they uncover not only murders but cases of pedophilia. Now they must find and arrest the perpetrators and determine whether these crimes are related or if Turtle Island has suddenly been transformed into a criminal hot zone. This novel was intense. I didn’t find the beginning particularly interesting and I didn’t find the characters particularly compelling. Even throughout the novel, the relationships between the detectives and the FBI agent rubbed me the wrong way. I did not like how the sexism in the work place and the sexual remarks were used and the remarks struck me as especially unprofessional. But in this case, the plot really did overcome my lack of interest in the characters. As the plot unfolded, I became more and more involved in the story and trying to figure out who the criminal was. While I was able to figure it out somewhat early, the red herrings still sucked me into the plot and distracted me from the truth. Everything came together in a crazy conclusion. I enjoyed the points of view from the minor characters because it expanded the plot a bit. The parts of the novel that were from the victims were excruciating to listen to. It was difficult to listen to and I would warn anyone who has experience abuse to beware. The parts from the perspective of the criminals were creepy as well and made me uncomfortable. The narration by Carmen Beaubeaux was great. I wasn’t sold on her in the beginning, but after listening to the entire novel I think she did a great job with the different characters and parts that were filled with emotion. The production quality was good. I would recommend this novel to anyone who likes crime thrillers. Audiobook provided for review by the narrator. Please find this complete review and many others at my review blog [If this review helped, please press YES. Thanks!]
If you crave suspense to the highest power- then Darren Law's new book is a must! Right from the opening prologue the hairs will rise on the back of your neck at the darkness that is waiting inside the next pages. Follow FBI agent Georgina O'Neil as she races against the clock to save a detective and his family from the world's first live- cyber- execution. Chilling story-line and sensitive writing, Darren Law is destined to be our next best selling suspense writer- A must have!