Grave Situation (Detective Allan Stanton Book 1)
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Halifax cop Allan Stanton is a troubled homicide detective who has lost everything, including his family and his sense of justice. When he finally decides to leave the force and start over, he's assigned a string of murders that all bear the signs of a serial killer collecting trophies.
As Stanton unravels each grisly crime scene, the mounting evidence points uncomfortably close to him and a case more disturbing than anything he's ever seen.
given you a full statement?” “Yes, he has.” “Good. I’ll read your report when you pass it in.” Allan thanked the officer and walked toward the guard. “I’m Lieutenant Allan Stanton,” he said, reaching out. “Greg O’Dell.” Through their handshake, Allan could feel a tremor in the guard’s grip. “Did you witness the crime?” he asked. Greg glanced at the victim. “No. I found Brad this way.” “Can I see some identification, please?” A curt nod. “Sure.” He produced his wallet and fumbled out his
all the friends that I know she had. No one saw or heard from her.” “Do you know of anyone, past or present, who might have a grudge against you or her?” Silent, Cathy shook her head. “Does Trixy have a boyfriend?” “No.” “Did she ever talk about having problems with any of her johns?” A moment’s reflection. “No.” “How about past boyfriends?” “No trouble that I can remember.” “Does she work under a pimp or buddy-up like some other women in the city?” “She works on her own.” Cathy leaned
for the repose of her soul. Then he sat there, listening to his mother’s shallow breathing. Muffled voices came from the hallway. Now and again, a nurse would come into the room, making her rounds. Herb checked the doorway every few minutes for his father, but he never showed up. Probably drunk, Herb thought. Disgusted, he pictured the man passed out on the sofa at home. How badly Herb had wanted and needed a father in his life. Someone there to protect and guide him throughout his early
hallway to a room with a desk, fax machine, computer and filing cabinets. A corner window afforded a view of Preston Street. “Everything’s in there,” David nodded to a storage box on the desk. “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” “Thank you.” “Any questions, I’ll be in my office.” As David left the room, Allan went to the desk and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Slowly, he pulled the lid off the box and looked inside at the folders and manila envelopes. The folders, he knew, contained the
that could be responsible for this man’s behavior. Like I said, in order to see definitively what makes him tick, you’d need to look at his past. Unfortunately, you can’t do that until you catch him. “There’s no doubt in my mind that he exhibited behavioral problems throughout his life. These would’ve revealed themselves to the people around him when he was very young. Psychopathic behavior just doesn’t show up in adulthood. It might be hard to fathom, but childhood psychopathy is a fact. “As a