Binary Witness (The Amy Lane Mysteries)
Binary Witness
By Rosie Claverton
Book one of The Amy Lane Mysteries
Police detectives rely on Amy Lane to track the digital debris of their most elusive criminals—when she’s not in the throes of a panic attack. After two students disappear in Cardiff, Amy uncovers photographic evidence that they’ve been murdered. From the safety of her computer, she looks through the city’s digital eyes to trace the steps of a killer.
Amy’s investigation requires footwork, however, and the agoraphobic genius can’t hack it alone. She turns to her newly hired cleaner, ex-con Jason Carr. Jason is fascinated by both Amy and the work, and can’t refuse even when she sends him into situations that risk returning him to prison.
The killer strikes again and again, and Amy and Jason are the only investigators closing in on him. But Amy’s psyche is cracking under the strain, and Jason’s past is catching up with him. To stop the next murder, they must hold their unconventional partnership together at any cost.
78,000 words
Dear Reader,
If there’s one thing that’s sure to tickle me every time, it’s when I ask for book recommendations via social media, and readers come back to recommend books I’ve edited or published. Most recently, readers have given me recommendations for Saved by the Bride by Fiona Lowe, Wild Ones by Kristine Wyllys and Goddess with a Blade by Lauren Dane. I’m always pleased when this happens and I think our batch of May books will be next on readers’ recommendation lists!
We’re thrilled to welcome fan favorite Josh Lanyon back to Carina Press with Stranger on the Shore. Journalist Griffin Hadley shrugs off lawyer Pierce Mather’s objections to his investigation of a decades-old kidnapping, but it might not be so easy to shrug off the objections of someone willing to do anything to keep the past buried.
Bestselling author Stephanie Tyler returns with another sexy, unique story set not too far into our possible post-apocalyptic future. In Salvation, when Luna leaves Defiance to rescue Bish from a rival gang, she doesn’t realize she’s the one who will end up needing saving—both from the gang and from Bish, the man who can’t wait any longer to claim her and make her his. Though this book can be read as a standalone, be sure to check out both Defiance and Redemption as well!
There’s No Accounting for Cowboys in Leah Braemel’s sexy contemporary cowboy romance. Jake Grady relies on family accountant Paige Reynolds to bring order to his life, when family secrets throw it into chaos. Check out our new reduced-price bundle of Leah’s erotic romance duology, Texas Tangle and Tangled Past, available now.
And speaking of sexy contemporary romance, the only woman Grand Duke Armand ever desired is her, but not every girl dreams of marrying a prince. Anna doesn’t want prince charming, she loved the man behind the crown. Can they overcome their mistakes and reclaim a love neither forgot? Don’t miss this Going Royal book by Heather Long, Some Like It Scandalous.
Tamara Morgan joins us with the start to a new contemporary romance series in If I Stay. In this kickoff to a modern-day Downton Abbey series, the nanny to a rich hotelier family must choose between the hard-edged chauffeur who gets her pulse racing and the profligate playboy she’s loved her whole life.
Another author kicking off a new series is Sheryl Nantus. If you’ve been looking for a unique futuristic romance series to enjoy, In the Black is being described as Firefly meets Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. What’s more unique than a heroine who’s captain of a bordello spaceship?
Male/male author KC Burn also offers up a futuristic romance this month. Falling in love with an alien exotic dancer forces a prejudiced fleet captain to reevaluate who he is and what he believes in Voodoo ’n’ Vice.
May is a month packed full of science fiction, fantasy and futuristic books. Cindy Spencer Pape is back with a new book in her Gaslight Chronicles, Dragons & Dirigibles (I love this title!). Airship engineer Melody MacKay is exactly the kind of emancipated woman Victor Arrington wants to keep away from his impressionable niece—that is, until smugglers start trying to kill the girl. Then Victor turns to Melody for help. If you’re new to the Gaslight Chronicles, you can start the series now with a new, reduced-price bundle of the first three books in the series. Available wherever ebooks are sold.
Author T.D. Wilson returns to Carina Press with book two in his space opera series. In The Epherium Chronicles: Crucible, only one more jump to the new colony in the Cygni star system, but what will Captain James Hood find when he arrives—a thriving colony, dangerous enemies, or will it be in ruins?
We’re pleased to welcome four authors to Carina Press this month. Debut author April Taylor brings us a tale of fantasy and alternate history. In Court of Conspiracy, book one of The Tudor Enigma, ordered by Anne Boleyn to protect her son, can apothecary and elemancer Luke Ballard overcome the evil sunderer who seeks to kill Henry IX at Hampton Court Palace?
Also with a debut novel this month is historical paranormal romance author Kari Edgren. Selah Kilbrid would sacrifice everything for her birthright, except the one kiss that could destroy her in Goddess Born.
For our mystery offering this month, debut author Rosie Claverton brings together an agoraphobic hacker and a streetwise ex-con to hunt down a serial killer in Cardiff. Don’t miss Binary Witness, the first in a new mystery series.
Last, we’re thrilled to have author Vanessa North join us with her new male/male romance High and Tight. Deeply closeted Navy pilot Adam returns home, planning to convince his longtime lover he’s ready to commit at last, only to find Harris has moved on without him.
Coming in June: novels from Lynda Aicher, Ava March, Christi Barth, Dana Marie Bell and more, along with a fabulous male/male contemporary romance anthology from three talented authors.
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
Dedication
For Pam, the epitome of grace under pressure—thank you for showing me that all things are possible and raising your son to be my perfect husband.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my talented editor, Deb Nemeth, for weaving her magic to turn my shabby manuscript into a novel, and for Angela James at Carina Press for taking a chance on me.
Thank you to Professor Burkhard Schafer of the University of Edinburgh for proving invaluable in my research on digital evidence and forensic computing. All the facts are his, and all the mistakes mine.
Thanks to all my friends and housemates who have lived at various locations in this novel, particularly Nicole who shared my wheelie bin anxiety.
Cardiff, I miss you. Consider this a love letter, hopefully the first of many.
Finally, thank you, Huw—words cannot express how much of this novel I owe to you and your indefatigable support. Diolch yn fawr, cariad.
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
Chapter 18
Ch
apter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter One: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle
The soft burble of the television threatened to lull her to sleep, and Kate forced her eyes open. She twirled the end of her messy blond plait around her finger and tried to find the will to get off the sofa. Have I Got News for You had just finished, there was nothing on for half an hour, and if she didn’t take the rubbish out before her housemate got back, there’d be hell to pay.
Neither of them could be bothered to get up early on a Monday morning after a weekend of shifts at the club, so Friday night was her opportunity to shove the wheelie bin out front. Kate knew they’d get poisonous looks from their lemon-sucking neighbour for leaving it out all weekend, but she was also the woman who’d complained about their barbecue last month. Kate had no qualms about ruffling her feathers.
With Herculean effort, Kate prised herself off the faux leather couch and stumbled towards the back door. Opening it let in a sharp draught of October air, and she drew back her hands into her hoodie sleeves, teeth already chattering. The outside light flickered to life, blinding her after the dim, dingy student living room. She’d add that to her tale of woe for her housemate later.
With one hand, she stuffed the kitchen waste into the overflowing black bin, while the other rummaged among the detritus on the windowsill for the gate key. She eventually found it among the cocktail umbrellas and, waving her arms to get the outside light on, she twisted the key against ancient rust to wrangle the lock open. She shut the back door, but didn’t bother with the lock. It would only be two minutes. What could happen in two minutes?
Pushing the bin like a mam with a pram, Kate manoeuvred the thing through the gate, wincing at something sticky between her palm and the handle. The light clicked off behind her, and she spent a minute or three trying to fit the wheelie bin round a corner too slim for it. Finally, it budged and she shoved it down the narrow alleyway to the street.
She wedged the bin against the windowsill, ignoring the twitching curtains. As long as the foxes didn’t get at it, she didn’t see the big deal. It was November and the bin was more likely to freeze shut than raise a stench.
Kate looked back down the alley.
With the streetlights behind her, it looked ominous. High walls overshadowed the tiny walkway, with no light at the end to guide her through. The anaemic moonlight played off the ivy curtains, casting shadows that looked like men. Leafy green monsters. Kate scowled. It was stupid to be afraid—she’d only just walked down it. There was nothing there. Was there?
She crept down the alley, the darkness pressing in on her. The ivy monsters formed an honour guard as she passed, ready to end her with a branch bayonet at the slightest misstep. She was certain there were eyes on her, watching her, following her every move. Could she hear footsteps...?
Kate turned, twisting round to stare back at the road. Nothing. She took a deep breath, pulled herself together and hurried down the rest of the alley.
Reaching her gate, she stopped on the threshold. The outside light was on.
Suddenly, the feeling of being watched returned. She was sure the light had been off when she’d left. How could it be on now? What movement in the shadows had triggered it again? Kate was acutely aware that she’d left the door unlocked. Anyone could be inside her house.
“God, you’re ridiculous,” she told herself and marched through the gate, slamming it shut behind her and snapping closed the lock. She walked determinedly towards the back door. It must’ve been a cat, or a mouse. How many times had it come on for no good reason? They should get the landlord to look at it.
Closing the back door behind her, Kate locked it and dropped the key on the windowsill. Then she turned to confront the house. The kitchen was a state, overflowing with dishes but empty of intruders, and she could see all the way through the dining area into the living room. There was nowhere a man could hide.
Kate breathed a guilty sigh of relief and returned to her spot on the sofa, but she didn’t feel like TV anymore. She had to haul herself to the library in the morning, and she’d have to take the bus if it was raining. Of course, it was always bloody raining, but she’d moved to Wales—what else could she expect?
She turned off the lights, set the box to record Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman (Naomi loved that retro nonsense) and made sure the deadlock was off so Naomi could actually get in after her shift. Having her housemate howl down the door at 3:00 a.m. did nothing for their relationship with the neighbours.
The house slipped into its midnight state, the faint strains of Maroon 5 coming through one wall accompanied by the rhythmic banging of headboard against plaster. Kate yawned, plodding up the stairs and straight into the bathroom.
From the vantage point of the cracked toilet seat, she stared at the shower curtain. Naomi always pulled it across—to let it dry, she said, something about mould—and Kate hated it there. For a start, it was an ugly curtain, all mutant fish and kids’ bathtime phrases on deep plastic blue.
And, secondly, it would make a great hiding place.
Shaking her head, Kate went to wash her hands in the sink, letting the water warm her hands and calm her nerves. It was just that bloody cat outside. That was all. She looked at her face in the mirror, picking at her blemishes.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she realised: the shower curtain was drawn back.
Chapter Two: I’d Do Anything
“So, what do you want to be?”
Jason stared at the man incredulously. Ever since Jason had walked in and sat down in front of his desk, the nervous little man had grown more anxious, shrinking into his chair and tapping away at his keyboard as though it held the secrets of the universe. Sure, Jason was a big guy, shaved head, few tats, but he knew how to smile and speak softly. That got you a long way with people.
Still, this “Martin”—as his neat plastic badge proclaimed—seemed to think Jason was about to pound him into the ground, and yet this didn’t stop him asking stupid questions. What was the point of looking like a hard man if it didn’t stop people asking you stupid questions?
“I want to be whatever gets me money.” Jason kept his voice even and calm, but that didn’t stop Martin from shrivelling further into his chair.
“Er...anything specific you like, though? Something...um...outdoors? Or with animals?”
What did he want to do? His fingers itched to work, to craft something with his hands—make something, do something. And stay the fuck out of prison. Since getting out of lock-up, he’d spent every day in his mam’s living room watching daytime TV. There was only so much he could take of “My sister stole my girlfriend while I was in prison.” (If Cerys had done that, Jason hoped he’d have the sense to keep it off the television.)
“I like cars,” he said finally. His only relief was Dylan’s garage over in Canton and the motors he fixed up. True, most of them weren’t
entirely legal, but it was good money. He could lose himself in the pure roar of the engine, the beauty of the whole working in harmony. But it was that legal thing that bothered him now. If he got involved in the business, it would draw attention to Dylan, and he couldn’t do that to his mate. One of the few he had left.
Martin dutifully typed something on his keyboard that was a lot longer than “cars” but there was probably some fancy name for it. Jason had no time for faff.
“Well...we have one vacancy,” Martin said, nervously smacking his lips and peering at his screen. “It’s not exactly cars...”
“I’ll take it,” Jason said immediately. He couldn’t care less what it was, as long as it was work. It had been a heavy blow to his pride just to walk through the doors of the Job Centre. Everything now was just getting on with business.
Martin blinked at him. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“Put my name down and then tell me where I’ve gotta show.” He wouldn’t give himself any opportunity to turn chicken shit and back away from this now. And then he could go home and tell Mam and Cerys that he had a job now and that was that.
“Report to the Roath Cleaning Company on Monday morning, nine o’clock. They do commercial and domestics and they employ a lot of con...victs.” Martin looked at Jason with a mixture of terror and pity but Jason ignored him. He was used to that look now, got it from his mam’s friends and his sister’s boyfriends, the ones who thought he was stupid to have been caught.
So, cleaning. That wouldn’t be so bad. He’d grown to like order and cleanliness during his time inside, taking pride in a job well done. He’d just go to work, get it done, and then he’d have cash to go out with his mates on a Friday night, have a couple, and glare at the young boys from the Valleys down Catherine Street as they stuffed their flapping gobs with chips. He could help Dylan on the weekends and he could buy his mam something decent for Christmas. And, most of all, he’d have his pride.
“Yeah,” he said. “I can do that.”
* * *