The Hangman (Forgotten Files Book 3)

Heart racing, Julia dashed toward the end of the rope, which was tied off around a support beam. She shoved her gun in her holster, and rising on tiptoes, reached for the knot. The body faced away from her, making it impossible to see the victim’s face.

She dug her nails into the rope and tried to wedge her thumb under the outside loop. After the outer knot, there were two more knots to undo before the rope would give. More digging and pulling and the second knot came loose. The woman’s body was limp now.

A squeak of hinges and movement in her peripheral vision had her backing away from the rope and drawing her weapon. She steadied the gun in front of her with both hands as a man with long white hair and a slim build came in the side door. Even as very faint memories tugged at her, she couldn’t place him. Where and when had she seen him before?

She leveled her gun. “Put your hands where I can see them.” The last knot held firm as the woman’s body now dangled gently. “Untie her! Get her down!”

He looked amused as he glanced toward the lifeless body. “Which is it? You want me to get my hands up or cut her down?”

Julia’s fingers tightened on her grip of the gun. He had an air about him that screamed cop. “Release the rope!”

He glanced up at the woman, then looked at Julia with a smile before moving toward the last rope.

Her phone rang, her heart hammering as she watched him. She started to reach for her phone. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded.

Laughing, the man tugged at the rope, and the last knot came free. The woman slammed to the concrete floor in a heap. The impact of the body distracted Julia for a split second. It was enough time for him to unwind a second rope she’d not noticed when she’d entered.

Overhead, three-inch-diameter metal pipes rattled and then fell about her, driving her reflexively to a crouching position while covering her head. Two struck her shoulder and back. She staggered to rise just as the man landed a punch squarely to her stomach. Pain rocketed through her body.

“You working with Delany?” she wheezed.

He gently lifted her chin upward and pointed her focus to Marcus Delany’s lifeless body, which lay crumpled in a darkened corner. There was a bullet wound in the chest.

“Not anymore.”

“Why?”

“He owed Popov a debt. He thought no one cared after the old Russian died. But the family never forgot, and I collected the last installment,” he said.

She stared into his eyes, and old memories reached out from the past. The hair was whiter and the lines around his face deeper, but she knew him.

The moment’s hesitation cost her. He was old, but his reflexes were lightning quick. She never saw his left punch rise up and connect with her jaw. Pain shot through her head. She staggered, then dropped to the floor. And blacked out.




Novak stared at the phone display, wondering why Julia had called him and was now not picking up. He dialed her number a third time, and when he still got no answer, he called Andrews, who picked up on the first ring. “Andrews, this is Novak. Where’s Julia?”

“Five minutes ago, she was on her way to the Manchester district.”

“Ping her phone.”

“Stand by.” The seconds ticked by at a painfully slow pace. “She’s still at Delany’s. Why hasn’t she left?”

“This isn’t good. She just called me and now is not picking up. I’m headed to Delany’s now.”

“I’m on standby.”

“Understood.” He ended the call and shoved his foot against the gas pedal. He’d barely traveled a mile when his phone dinged with a text. Riggs had sent him a snapshot of the police artist’s rendering done with Bonnie Jenkins.

He gripped the phone as he stared at the very familiar eyes. Bonnie Jenkins had described Nate Unger.




When Julia’s eyes opened, a thick fog enveloped her brain. Her body was racked with pain. She lay very still and slowly unhooked her belt. She tugged the buckle free and gripped the sharp edge in her fist.

She blinked until her vision cleared enough for her to realize she was lying on a cold concrete floor. The room was dimly lit now, and rope coiled around her wrists, binding them in front of her body. She fought, twisting her hands as she rolled on her back. Beside her lay the lifeless bodies of Elizabeth Monroe and Marcus Delany. Julia swallowed her panic. She pushed herself up, shoving back a wave of nausea.

Julia’s skin tore and burned as she struggled to pull her hands free of the ropes. The ropes didn’t budge. Her weapon, badge, and shoes were gone.

She pushed up into a sitting position and forward onto her knees. Pulling in several slow, deep breaths, she concentrated on her breathing until it settled. Gritting her teeth, she lumbered into a standing position like a boxer taking an eight count after a knockdown. She staggered, then righted herself. How long had she been out? Was Novak headed toward her or toward the warehouse in the city?

The same man came around the corner, his arms loaded with rope. “You’re awake. I thought you’d be out longer. I’ll give you credit. You figured this out faster than I anticipated. I thought we’d have more time to play. Me leaving you little clues like attorney Monroe here. But no matter. I’ll get you both loaded up, and we’ll head to the staging area.”

The distant memory crystallized. “You knew my father.”

“It’s been a while since we saw each other face-to-face. I think you might have been ten or eleven.”

Her head spun, and she drew in air to settle her tight stomach. “Unger. Jim’s undercover partner.”

He grinned. “That’s right. We worked undercover for three years together. He was a great cop. A bit too honest for his own good, but I still liked him.”

“You came to my birthday party.”

“That’s right.”

“What do you mean Jim was too honest?”

He grabbed Monroe’s body and dragged it toward an SUV. Hefting the dead weight, he loaded her in the back and covered her with a tarp. “He never took a bribe. Not once. Dedicated son of a bitch. Nothing would stop him from putting Popov behind bars. I used to tell him that he needed to bend and learn to look the other way. But he wouldn’t listen.”

“That arrest made both your careers.”

“And would have ended my life if I hadn’t learned to bend.”

She twisted her hands, trying to free them from the ropes. “What did you do?”

“I saved Popov’s ass. If not for me, I think the old bastard would have gotten the death penalty.”

All the victims had worked with Jim as confidential informants. Rene gave up information that led to Popov’s arrest, but before his trial she refused to testify. “Did you see to it Rene didn’t testify?”

“I had a chat with her. She was smart and knew when to back off. Popov got life in prison, but that wasn’t enough for Jim. He was working on Rene, trying to get her to testify in another case against Popov.”

“But she was murdered by a serial killer.”

“What are the chances of that?”

The chances were almost zero. “You are the Hangman.”

He touched the tip of his nose and grinned. “Good guess.”