Alaska—the final frontier?
When Clara Avery, an entertainer working on the Fate, an Alaskan cruise ship, goes to nearby Bear Island, she comes across a scene of bloody mayhem. She also comes across Thor Erikson, who will soon be a member of the FBI’s elite paranormal unit, the Krewe of Hunters.
Thor’s been sent from the Alaska field office to investigate several grotesque killings, with the dead posed to resemble the victims of notorious murderers. The prime suspect is a serial killer Thor once put behind bars. The man escaped from a prison in the Midwest, and all the evidence says he was headed to Alaska...
Thor and Clara share an unusual skill: the ability to communicate with the dead. Their growing love—and their contact with the ghosts of the victims—brings them together to solve the case…and prevent a deadly fate of their own!
Praise for New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham
“With an astonishing ease and facility, this talented and hard-working writer can cast her stories in any genre.”
—Charlaine Harris, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse novels
“Once again, Heather Graham has outdone herself. The Betrayed took me on a fantastic trip to Sleepy Hollow and I’d travel with Graham anywhere… This chilling novel has everything: suspense, romance, intrigue and an ending that takes your breath away.”
—Suspense Magazine
“[Waking the Dead] is not to be missed.”
—BookTalk
“Dark, dangerous and deadly! Graham has the uncanny ability to bring her books to life, using exceptionally vivid details to add depth to all the people and places.”
—RT Book Reviews on Waking the Dead, Top Pick
“Murder, intrigue…a fast-paced read. You may never know in advance what harrowing situations Graham will place her characters in, but…rest assured that the end result will be satisfying.”
—Suspense Magazine on Let the Dead Sleep
“Graham deftly weaves elements of mystery, the paranormal and romance into a tight plot that will keep the reader guessing at the true nature of the killer’s evil.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Unseen
“Suspenseful and dark.… The transitions between past and present flow seamlessly, and the main characters are interesting and their connection to one another is believable.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Unseen
Also by HEATHER GRAHAM
HAUNTED DESTINY
FLAWLESS
THE HIDDEN
THE FORGOTTEN
THE SILENCED
THE DEAD PLAY ON
THE BETRAYED
THE HEXED
THE CURSED
WAKING THE DEAD
THE NIGHT IS FOREVER
THE NIGHT IS ALIVE
THE NIGHT IS WATCHING
LET THE DEAD SLEEP
THE UNINVITED
THE UNSPOKEN
THE UNHOLY
THE UNSEEN
AN ANGEL FOR CHRISTMAS
THE EVIL INSIDE
SACRED EVIL
HEART OF EVIL
PHANTOM EVIL
NIGHT OF THE VAMPIRES
THE KEEPERS
GHOST MOON
GHOST NIGHT
GHOST SHADOW
THE KILLING EDGE
NIGHT OF THE WOLVES
HOME IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS
UNHALLOWED GROUND
DUST TO DUST
NIGHTWALKER
DEADLY GIFT
DEADLY NIGHT
THE DEATH DEALER
THE LAST NOEL
THE SÉANCE
BLOOD RED
THE DEAD ROOM
KISS OF DARKNESS
THE VISION
THE ISLAND
GHOST WALK
KILLING KELLY
THE PRESENCE
DEAD ON THE DANCE FLOOR
PICTURE ME DEAD
HAUNTED
HURRICANE BAY
A SEASON OF MIRACLES
NIGHT OF THE BLACKBIRD
NEVER SLEEP WITH STRANGERS
EYES OF FIRE
SLOW BURN
NIGHT HEAT
* * * * *
Look for Heather Graham’s next novel
DARKEST JOURNEY
available soon from MIRA Books.
HEATHER
GRAHAM
Deadly Fate
In loving memory of
my sister
Victoria Graham Davant,
who loved the wonder
and beauty of the
Great State of Alaska
CAST OF CHARACTERS
FBI Agents
Jackson Crow, head of the Krewe of Hunters
Angela Hawkins, special agent and Jackson’s wife
Thor Erikson, new member of the Krewe
in the Alaska Field Office
Mike Aklaq, Thor’s partner
Other Law Enforcement
Reginald Enfield, Special Director, Alaska
Lieutenant Bill Meyer, Alaska State Police
The Fairy Tale Killer
Tate Morley, serial killer in Kansas,
recently escaped from prison
From the Past
Mandy Brandt, the Fairy Tale Killer’s last victim
The Alaska Hut
Marc Kimball, owner
Emmy Vincenzo, assistant/secretary
Justin and Magda Crowley, property manager
and housekeeper
Celtic American Cruise Lines—the Ship’s Entertainers
Clara Avery, actress and singer in the Fate’s original
Broadway-style musical, Annabelle Lee
Ralph Martini, older actor
Simon Green, chorus member
Larry Hepburn, young heartthrob actor
Connie Shaw, actress
The Crew of Gotcha and Vacation USA
(reality TV shows)
Natalie Fontaine, producer
Amelia Carson, TV hostess
Tommy Marchant, cameraman
Becca Marle, sound technician
Nate Mahoney, fabricator
Misty Blaine, production assistant to Natalie Fontaine
Other Characters
Astrid and Colin, Thor’s sister and brother-in-law
Natasha and Boris, Thor’s huskies
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Excerpt from Haunted Destiny by Heather Graham
1
She lay in beauty.
Heartbreaking beauty, for she was gone.
There was no hope of resuscitation; she was as pale as the snow-white sheets upon which she rested. Her hair was sable brown, the color of soft fur. Her lips had been highlighted with a rich shade of red, and her features were as delicate and lovel
y as the intricate pattern of a snowflake.
She’d been a victim of the “Fairy Tale Killer,” a man Thor Erikson had been pursuing with his partner, Jackson Crow, for months. The killer had struck in cities from New York City to San Diego, and it was in Los Angeles where they’d caught him at last. He’d been kneeling over, bending down, tenderly touching a corpse—only to turn with a Smith & Wesson pointed directly at Thor and Crow.
Thor had fired first, and then rushed to the pallet upon which the killer had displayed his “Snow White,” knowing full well that they were too late; she was gone, drained of her life’s blood.
Thor could still see her in his mind’s eye, remember when she’d arranged a meeting with him and Crow; he could hear her sincerity as she had expressed concern about a coworker who had been dating a business executive, a man who traveled constantly. Her name had been Mandy Brandt, and she’d been so very worried about her friend, who worked at the tour center with her. He remembered the gentleness of her smile, her eagerness to help in any way...
And now here she lay, a beauty like Snow White. But no kiss would awaken her.
He turned to Jackson, who was kicking the gun from the killer’s grip, checking to see if he was dead; he was not. He was still breathing.
“Saved my life—and his,” Jackson said.
Thor was vaguely aware of Jackson getting on his phone, calling for medical assistance and backup.
Then the whole scene began to fog up and fade.
It was a dream that came to him again and again; a memory that played itself out in his mind when he was sleeping, when he was vulnerable. Over time it had come less and less, but sometimes, like now, it would return like the blade of a knife, digging into his mind as if piercing his flesh.
Tonight, however, Mandy’s eyes opened. And she looked at him with that beautiful and tremulous smile of hers. “Thor,” she said.
“Mandy!”
She reached up and touched his cheek. “You mustn’t let it happen again,” she told him softly.
He was dreaming; he knew that he was dreaming. He’d relived the scene a thousand times over.
And he’d wondered every time how he and Jackson and a slew of techs had managed to be just that little bit too far behind the killer...
No, he blamed it on himself. And maybe Jackson, just a little. Mostly it was his own fault. He should have known. They should have known. They shared a strange sense of...intuition, and they should have realized from the descriptions they’d received, from their gut sense of the past and time and purpose and...
Mandy had died anyway.
In his dream, he said, “Every day, Mandy, every day of my life, I still try to catch the killers, the bad guys, the sick, the evil... I am so sorry...”
She pressed a finger to his lips and sat up, then said softly, “No fault, Thor, no fault on your part. You two...you believed me, you investigated, you discovered the truth. No fault. But it’s happening again. This time, Thor...this time, you must stop him.”
She stroked his cheek; her eyes were immense on his...
And then his alarm went off with a jarring sense of reality and he woke up, bolting to a sitting position, reaching for the offending noise box to silence it.
He lay there for a moment; the dream had been so real he felt as if he could still smell the scent of Mandy’s perfume on the air.
But, of course, he could not. He glanced at the other side of the bed. It was empty. As always. He and Janet had split up months ago and since then, he’d never brought anyone home.
He rose and headed to the kitchen of his Anchorage apartment, poured a cup of coffee from the brewer that was set for 6:30 a.m. every morning and walked out to the living room. Large windows all across the far wall gave him great views of the city.
People had a tendency to think of Alaska as the frozen frontier.
Sometimes, he wished it was nothing but a frontier filled with ice.
But Anchorage was a large, sprawling metropolis—perhaps not on the same level as NYC or Chicago, but it was still a thriving city with well over three hundred thousand residents, almost half the population of the entire state. The great thing about the apartment was it offered him a place to stay in the city—and have this incredible and majestic view of the white-tipped Chugach Mountains rising in the distance—without having to live here full-time.
Thanks to his enterprising antecedents, his family owned a sprawl of property between Anchorage and Seward, a vast tangle of family homes, a horse farm and a sled dog–breeding facility. His sister and her husband managed the estate, so he could live in both worlds—he even had a pair of the best dogs anyone could ask for.
He was, he knew, a damned lucky man.
Albeit a haunted one, because he could never shake certain images...
Lucky, he told himself firmly. Every man out there, every woman, too, lived with things that tore at them.
He shook off the feelings the dream had wrapped around him.
In his free time, he could head out to what was still pristine wilderness. He could spend countless hours in the national parks and encounter wildlife like he could in few other places.
He wasn’t a hunter. The only way he shot things in his spare time was with a camera. His day-to-day life had enough to do with violence.
He heard his cell phone ringing and headed back into the bedroom to snatch it up off his bedside table. His partner, Mike Aklaq, was on the other line.
“You ready, friend?”
“If you call standing in my shorts, drinking coffee and looking out windows ready, then I’m ready.”
“Cool. You’re always Mr. Early. Today I’m on the move. Coming to get you—got a call to rush it this morning.”
“Oh?”
“Just hop in the shower quick. We’re wanted down the road in Seward.”
“What’s going on?”
“Quit talking and shower. Put on something more than your briefs—Special Director Enfield will meet us at the airport.”
“Airport? Seward isn’t even a three-hour drive and only private—”
“Helicopter is waiting for us. I’m almost there. Hey, I’m pretty sure I’m along for the ride on this. Enfield thinks you’re the man for this situation.”
“What the hell is the situation?”
“I don’t even know yet. Just get cracking, eh?”
Thor didn’t say anything more; he hung up and hurried to get ready.
He managed a shave and shower in less than ten minutes. When he emerged—in his blue suit, Glock in the little leather holster at the back of his waistband—Mike was in his apartment.
“Hell, you must have been downstairs when you called,” Thor said.
Mike grinned. “I was. I figured you had coffee—you always have coffee.”
Mike was a big guy with broad shoulders and cheekbones to match. His dad was Native American; his mom had come up to Alaska with her father when he’d worked the pipeline. Mike was one of ten kids, all of them tall and good-looking. Thor and he made a good, colorful team, Thor often thought. He actually had Aleut blood himself. It was from a great-grandmother, while the rest of his family had hailed from Norway and it showed. He was bronzed just because he loved the sun; his hair was lighter than flax and his eyes were a blue only a little darker than ice.
They’d been partners three years in Alaska. Thor had done time in both the New York City and Miami offices while Mike had worked in Chicago and DC. Both of them had asked for the Alaska assignment—a different kind of job, for the most part. They were members of the criminal task division; in the three years they’d been working, most of their cases had been a matter of doggedly following clues and collaborating with Canadian and other US agents.
They headed downstairs. Thor knew that Mike was going to drive—he had the off
icial car and the keys. They both preferred their own driving.
“What time did Enfield call you?” Thor asked when they were on the road.
“Six. He just said shake a leg and get to the airfield, and he’d meet us there. Man, it doesn’t bode well, him calling like that—when we were due in anyway.”
Thor nodded, feeling uncomfortable. The reality of the dream had faded—in his field, nightmares occurred in the darkness and the light. He’d always known that you had to live with the losses as well as the triumphs. But his dad—who was still with the Alaska State Troopers—had once put it into perspective for him by noting, You’ll never stop the flow of evil that some men will do, but each time you save one innocent, you make it all worthwhile.
So he had dreams.
Nightmares.
He woke up and shook them off.
But now, the dream that had plagued him right before he had awakened that morning seemed like some kind of a foreboding.
That feeling increased when they reached the airfield and saw Special Director Reginald Enfield there, waiting for them.
Enfield was a solid, no-nonsense director—a good man in his office. He’d had a kneecap shot out and knew he wasn’t fit for fieldwork, but he could analyze a situation like few other men and collect invaluable information with his group of techs. That he was at the airfield meant they were onto something serious.
Enfield shook hands with the men as he reached them, his expression grim. “Your chopper is ready and waiting. You’re heading straight to Seward—there was a murder last night,” he told them.
Thor waited for him to continue. It wasn’t as if Alaska was immune to murder—far from it. According to reports by statisticians at the Bureau, Alaska was the most dangerous state for violent crime. Most of the time, murders were related to bar fights, cabin fever, drug or alcohol abuse and sometimes, domestic battles.
Thor had a feeling none of the above applied; if so, the local police or the state police would have been called in. Seward, Alaska, had a full-time population of three thousand plus, but tourism and the cruise industry could swell that number considerably. It was still a quaint and beautiful town—one usually loved by those who flocked to see the beauty of the nation’s largest, last-frontier state.
He realized they were going to have to ask questions and so he began with the obvious. “Sir, I’m sure you plan on giving us more. We’re being sent to Seward over a murder? Aren’t the local police and the state guys on it?”
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