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2nd Cycle of the Harbinger Series: The continuation of the #1 Hard-boiled/Police Procedural smash Plain Jane Read online




  **Warning, this collection contains graphic crime scenes and frightening situations. Please do not purchase this collection if you have a weak stomach or frighten easily!

  Praise for the 1st Harbinger Series…

  “If you think you know what is going to happen, you're wrong. I have read so many suspense and crime books that guessing the end gets easier and easier. NOT this time. Be prepared to be hooked from the first page and lose some sleep because you just can't put it down”

  Michelle Delgado

  Amazon Reviewer

  “I just finished The Harbinger Collection. It was a real page turner and if I didn't know that Carolyn McCray is the author, I would think I was reading a James Patterson novel. It definitely isn't for the squeamish! It is like a thrilling roller-coaster ride!”

  Skeeter

  Amazon Reviewer

  “I am hooked on these stories! Very well-written and entertaining...Very hard to put down! Time to return this set and check out some more.”

  D. Harris

  Amazon Reviewer

  “I flat out fell in love with the main characters in these tales. They made me laugh out loud and gasp in shock when I wasn't supposed to be reading my Kindle at work. Rarely do I ever find a story that outs me at work. Totally worth the lectures I received. If you like serial killers, witty detectives and love triangles, these tales are you for you.”

  Appliquetion

  Amazon Reviewer

  Anyone who enjoys mystery/thrillers such as James Patterson, Lee Child, and Patricia Cornwell, The Harbinger series with definitely satisfy your need for suspense!

  Since this is an “in progress” collection, from time to time I will add additional novels and short stories as the series expands.

  Luckily there is now a super easy way to get your collection updated with whispersync…

  Read about it here in the Afterword!

  Main Menu

  Blitz

  the prequel short story to start the 2nd cycle of the Harbinger series!

  Kill Joy

  The 1st full-length book in the series

  Sloppy 2nds

  the bridge short story between Kill Joy and Debbie Downer

  Debbie Downer

  the full-length sequel to Kill Joy

  Raw

  the bridge short story between Debbie Downer and Cry Baby

  To be added to the collection in the Fall 2015….

  Cry Baby

  the final full-length book in the 2nd cycle of the Harbinger trilogy

  DOA

  the wrap-up short story to the 2nd cycle of theHarbinger series,

  BONUS MATERIAL

  DEVIOUS

  A prequel short story to 9th Circle, 1st in the Darc Murders Collection

  MARY, MARY, QUITE CONTRARY

  A prequel short story to Humpty Dumpty, 1st in the Nursery Rhyme Murders Collection

  Excerpt from MAYFLOWER MURDERS

  An excerpt from the new historical crime thiller!

  CHILD’S PLAY

  A prequel short story to Amber Alert, 1st in the Empty Crib Mysteries

  Start Reading

  Afterword

  Other Works by Carolyn McCray

  About the Author

  Copyright

  BLITZ – The “prequel” short story to the 2nd cycle of the Harbinger Mystery series!

  PROLOGUE

  The man pressed himself back behind the dumpster. The night was cooling and he couldn’t risk his excited breath giving away his position.

  Women, men, couples strolled by with nary a concern. Little did they know that they could have been his victim tonight.

  Excitement rose as he thought about his fingers around a warm neck. The victim’s pulse beating against his palm. Watching their eyes dilate in fear, knowing that his face was the last they would ever see.

  He had tried to suppress this homicidal urge, but there is no denying it now. Once that cat had been let out of the bag, there was no putting it back in.

  There were so many reasons for him to go home rather than stalk this alley. He had loving wife, a baby on the way, and his dream job, but none of that compared to those few minutes of ecstasy when he killed.

  What would it be tonight? Man? A woman? A couple?

  He felt like a challenge. A gay couple. Two gym rats could only double his pleasure. And the cops would probably chalk it up to some gay bashing, which of course, couldn’t be further from the truth, but the cops certainly didn’t need to know that.

  The man waited patiently, pressing his back against the brick wall, waiting for the opportunity. Maybe he should just kill the next person that walked by. End the night early.

  It certainly would leave a lot less explaining to do at home.

  But now that he had his heart set on a challenge, he knew if he took the easy road it would leave him unsatisfied.

  And the entire point of killing was for his satisfaction.

  CHAPTER 1

  “Finally!” Nicole huffed as she pushed herself up and off the couch. “What took you so long?”

  Kent frowned. “You sent me for Ethiopian Ox tail soup without the ox tail, Mandarin chicken, which apparently only you know the recipe for, and chicken fried steak…after 11pm.”

  Nicole just gave him that look. That look that said, “You did this to me so man up.” Her belly was getting huge, sticking out as if it was a shelf of its own.

  Her husband sighed. “You’re right. You’re right. Your wish is my command.”

  “That’s more like it,” Nicole said, thrusting her hand out. “You got the spicy mustard, right?”

  “Yes, my lady.” Kent wisely answered.

  She opened up the soup container and just drank it from the package. “Seriously,” Nicole said wiping her mouth with the sleeve. “What took you so long?”

  Kent shrugged. “You know how the trains are at night.”

  Nicole snorted loudly then had to grab a napkin to blow her nose. The further into this pregnancy, the more and more she acted like a frat boy. And guess what? She didn’t care.

  “You were stalking someone, weren’t you?”

  Again her husband’s feigned ignorance. “I plead the fifth.”

  Nicole sat down hard on the couch. “You know what? I don’t even want to know anymore. Now help me get my feet up on the ottoman.”

  Kent rushed over and helped lift her legs, which were now officially “thunder thighs.” She leaned back, picking at the Mandarin chicken from the take-out box with her fingers. Nicole would be glad to have this baby, just so she could get her manners back.

  “You should start your maternity leave,” Kent coaxed.

  “I’m fine,” Nicole retorted.

  Her husband raised an eyebrow at her general appearance. So what that she was in curry stained sweat pants, a ripped Ramones t-shirt, and had Mandarin chicken stained fingers.

  At home she was a hot mess because she could be a hot mess. At work she was still able to hold it together, which maybe was why she liked going in to the station. There were standards to be upheld there. She felt human there. A very tired, bloated, waddling human, but a human nonetheless.

  “You just worry about yourself, mister,” Nicole answered then flung a piece of chicken at him to take out the sting.

  Kent, of course, caught it mid-air, then ate it.

  This was why she married him.

  * * *

  Kent went into the kitchen to grab some utensils.
Usually about three quarters of the way through a meal, Nicole would realize she was eating everything with her hands and would suddenly get freaked out.

  Since crossing into her third trimester, his wife had intermittently lost her mind. She normally was pretty much a control freak so finding herself so out of control would really rattle her cage.

  Which was why he didn’t tell her where he was at tonight. She had enough problems going on inside of her, she didn’t need any outside distractions. Her one job right now was to grow the baby inside of her. Once her “pregnesia,” passed, he would loop her in on everything.

  Well, maybe not everything, but enough to make her feel a part of the team again.

  That was if they both survived the end of this pregnancy. Who knew that a bun in the oven could fray their nerves more than five or six serial killers wrapped in one.

  If he was going to keep his secret from Nicole, he was going to need some help.

  And Kent hated nothing more than asking for help.

  Especially from whom he needed to ask it from.

  “Napkins! I need napkins!” Nicole shouted from the living room. Apparently her manners had woken up.

  Kent grabbed the whole roll of paper towels from the countertop, plus utensils and headed back to join his joyous wife.

  This was going to be the longest three weeks in the history of three weeks.

  * * *

  Ruben rolled over as his cell phone jangled on the night table. He dove for it before it could wake Paggie.

  The caller ID said it was Jimmi. Ruben glanced at the clock before answering. It was 5:43. He would have loved to crash back into bed, but he couldn’t do that to Paggie.

  Instead he rose, carefully extracting himself from the bed. He headed into the living room as he answered, “Jimmi, what could be so important to call me this early? I don’t even have any open cases.”

  “You do now,” the voice on the other end of the line was not Jimmi. It was Kent. Because, of course, the profiler had Jimmi’s phone. Duh. What was new?

  Ruben rubbed his hand over his shaved scalp. His palm was tickled by the stubble there. “What do you want?”

  He didn’t even bother to chide Kent. Even Ruben had learned it was useless.

  “I’ve got some stuff to do today so you’re on Nicole duty. Don’t forget the peppermint tea, midmorning snack and, of course, she’s going to need some kind of foot rub by the afternoon.”

  “She’s still your wife, right?” Ruben countered.

  “She’s still your partner, right?” Kent shot back.

  Why was Ruben bothering to get into a verbal argument with Kent? There was no winning. Not because the FBI profiler was right. He was just the most obnoxious. Still it rankled Ruben to just lay down and take it from Kent.

  “And what you are doing is more important than what I have planned?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” Kent answered quite smugly. “Besides we both know you want to do it so why don’t you lay off the whiney pants stuff?”

  While Ruben bristled at Kent’s put down, Ruben really couldn’t argue. Kent had him dead to rights and the profiler knew it.

  Helping Nicole made him feel valued, even by Kent.

  Ruben thought by now he would be the one married with a pregnant wife, but as always, the profiler beat him to the punch. Caring for Nicole helped take that sting away.

  “What should I bring for snacks?” Ruben asked, giving in to the situation.

  “I’d bring everything,” Kent said with a sigh. “Chicken Marsala, smothered pork chops, pizza and some Eggos.”

  “You’ve got it,” Ruben said, finally waking up all the way.

  “But don’t let her know you have them on standby. Tell her it will take you a half an hour, then get back in twenty minutes.”

  “I know the drill,” Ruben said, rubbing the back of his hand on his stubbly cheek.

  “And don’t get the chicken from that crappy Indian place like you did last time. All I heard was how the mushrooms were canned.”

  Yes, that had been Ruben’s mistake. He’d never go back to a place that served Indian and Italian food again.

  “Oh,” Kent stated, just as Ruben was about to hang up. The two of them seldom engaged in social niceties. “And I put together her make-up bag, but then she threw it at me, so you better have some smoky grey eyeliner hanging around.”

  “On it,” Ruben said as he cut the connection.

  He tip-toed back into the bedroom to find Paggie still asleep but sprawled out over the bed.

  Guess now was as good a time as any to get up.

  Besides he had some Chicken Marsala to cook.

  CHAPTER 2

  Nicole felt like a hippo walking into work. Literally. Not figuratively. She’d drop down on all fours if her belly would let her.

  She just wanted to be suspended in a river somewhere to take the weight off of…well, to just take the weight off.

  Lord knows she loved the baby boy growing inside of her. She loved him with all her heart.

  What she didn’t love was the waddling, the constant peeing, and the inability to see her feet much less feel them. The constant roaring hunger while still feeling vaguely nauseated.

  For some impossibly stupid reason, she had vowed to work up to the birth. And now that she was so near, it seemed a wimpish move to give in now. Besides sitting at home was nearly as miserable.

  Ruben looked up from his desk and smiled at her. She wanted to smack him. Nicole knew it was irrational, but the urge nearly made her hand fly up.

  And she was being ten times worse to Kent. He, however, kind of deserved it. He’d been a pain in her butt for several years now. Time the tables were turned a bit.

  Ruben though, deserved none of her hormonal rage, yet he took it like a champ.

  Glick walked by, nodding as he passed her. “Nicole.”

  He acted all casual as if he were treating her like normal when the opposite was quite true. Like she wouldn’t notice if he had siphoned off all of their cases to other detectives. She and Ruben didn’t have a single open case. Not one. Not even a cold case.

  Nothing.

  Normally she would complain up a blue streak, but to be honest she was glad for once to sit at her desk and do paperwork.

  It was a little hard to be out in the field when you could barely walk ten feet. Or trying to interrogate a suspect when you had to get up to pee every two minutes. It kind of took the tension out of the situation.

  So for the past two weeks, here they had sat. And probably would for the next three weeks. She could only hope the baby came early. She knew first time moms were usually late, but her prayers could be answered, couldn’t they?

  * * *

  Joshua checked the findings one more time. The CSU tech had been reluctant to take the paperwork to Glick.

  No doubt.

  Joshua gulped as he headed into the station. This was the type of thing that wasn’t to be done over the phone. He was a total weirdo-introvert and even he knew that.

  He gave a nod to Nicole. Even bloated like she was, the detective was ever-so-lovely. Ruben came around the corner with a plate of what looked like Chicken Marsala. Nicole and her cravings. Kent had even recruited Joshua to go find the best Moo Shu pork in the city. Each hour her taste buds seemed to change up on her.

  “Anything I should know about?” Nicole asked.

  He must have had that “something horrible” is going to happen face on.

  “No,” he lied.

  He was not going to break this to her. He was going to let Glick handle that notification.

  Joshua could feel her eyes following him as he knocked on Glick’s office door.

  “Enter.”

  Opening the door, Joshua glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, Nicole was glaring at him. That woman didn’t have a sixth sense, she had a seventh and an eighth.

  He had to ignore her though and enter the office. He made dang sure that he closed the door behind him.


  “Joshua, I wasn’t expecting a report from the ME until tomorrow on the latest victims.”

  “No, sir, I mean yes, sir,” Joshua stammered. “You are correct. This is about something else.”

  Glick held out his hand, but Joshua just couldn’t turn over the document.

  “What is it, son?” Glick asked. “Cat got your hand?”

  “No, sir… I just… I have to… I mean…this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

  “Hand over a report?” Glick questioned.

  “Um, yes sir…”

  Glick leaned back in his chair. “Joshua, this isn’t like you. You usually are doing a happy dance when you hand over results. What is up?”

  The captain indicated with his head for Joshua to sit down which he happily did. The paper in his hands felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Glick suggested.

  If only it were that easy.

  He unfolded the paper and slid it across the desk to Glick.

  A single page that could destroy a man he loved. No, whom he idolized.

  “You know the fibers we found on the first victim?” Joshua asked. “The camel hair fibers?”

  “Yes, I thought we had no manufacturer’s link?”

  “We didn’t, but I saw…” Joshua wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to say it out loud. “I noticed that Kent had a new jacket. Camelhair, so I…well I plucked a tiny bit…”

  Glick looked down at the report and frowned. “And they were a match. An FBI profiler’s coat is a match to a killer’s?”

  Joshua could only nod.

  “It seems like there is more to this,” Glick suggested.

  Again, all Joshua could do was nod.

  “What would that be?”

  “Well, you see, sir… Kent ‘borrowed’ Jimmi’s phone for the past few weeks.”

  “And?”

  Joshua squirmed in his feet. This wasn’t fair. He was just doing his job and now he might be destroying his best friend of all time.

  “That made it easy to track the phone’s movements.”

  “Which were Kent’s movements?” Glick clarified.

  “Yes,” Joshua squeaked.