Stephen Woodworth - Through Violet Eyes

Through Violet Eyes Book Jacket Series: Violet Eyes Series [1] SUMMARY: In a world where the dead can testify against the living, someone is getting away with murder. Because to every generation are born a select few souls with violet-colored eyes, and the ability to channel the dead. Both rare and preciousand rigidly controlled by a society that craves their servicesthese Violets perform a number of different duties. The most fortunate increase the world's cultural heritage by channeling the still-creative spirits of famous dead artists and musicians. The least fortunate aid the police and the law courts, catching criminals by interviewing the deceased victims of violent crime. But now the Violets themselves have become the target of a brutal serial murderera murderer who had learned how to mask his or her identity even from the victims.

Can the FBI, aided by a Violet so scared of death that she is afraid to live, uncover the criminal in time? Or must more of her race be dispatched to the realm that has haunted them all since childhood? From the Paperback edition. V01 Through Violet Eyes Book Jacket None THROUGH VIOLET EYES A Dell Book / September 2004 Published by Bantam Dell a division of Random House, Inc. New York, New York This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.

Copyright (c) 2004 by Stephen Woodworth No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address: Dell Books, New York, New York. Visit our website at http://www.bantamdell.com/ Dell is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc. eISBN 0-553-89880-9 v1.0 This book is for CELIA LOUISE HAMILTON WOODWORTH and HARRY HOLLIS WOODWORTH, who gave me love, encouragement, and support above and beyond the call of parenthood. I love you, Mom and Dad. Acknowledgments Many saints have laid hands upon this book to ensure its success, and the author would like to thank all of them for the benefit of their blessings: Anne Lesley Groell, my estimable editor at Bantam Dell; Jimmy Vines, superagent extraordinaire, and his intrepid assistant Dana Grayson; my foreign rights agent Danny Baror; Greg Bear, Octavia Butler, Gordon van Gelder, Nancy Kress, and Gwyneth Jones, my instructors at the 1999 Clarion West Writers Workshop, as well as Dave Myers, Leslie Howle, and the
whole Clarion West backstage crew; my fellow CW '99 alums Sarah Brandel, Christine Castigliano, Duncan Clark, Sandy Clark, Monte Cook, Dan Dick, Andrea Hairston, Jay Joslin, Leah Kaufman, Margo Lanagan, Ama Patterson, Elizabeth Roberts, Joe Sutliff Sanders, Tom Sweeney, Sheree Renee Thomas, and Trent Walters; my family and friends; and, most of all, my dearest Colleague, Collaborator, Soul Mate, Spouse, and Partner-in-All-Things, Kelly Dunn.

I love you, sweetheart! The Faceless Man CROUCHING BEHIND THE WOODEN TOOLSHED along the back fence, the man watched the little strawberry-blond girl at play in the yard. Perspiration blotched the featureless weave of the black veil that obscured his face, and sweat oozed under the latex of his gloves as he flexed his fingers. It hadn't rained in Los Angeles for almost six months, and the haze of accumulated smog cast an amber pall over the pink bungalow house and its tiny backyard. The late September heat wave had dried the grass to brittle yellow needles, and patches of bare dirt mottled the lawn like mange. An inflatable wading pool decorated with Winnie-the-Pooh characters sagged in the center of the yard, and the girl squatted in its shallow water, wearing a one-piece bathing suit with Tigger on the front. Her wispy hair hung in horse-tail tangles about her freckled face as she made her naked Barbie doll swim in big circles around her.

The man's breath quickened, the air hot and stifling underneath his mask of crepe. The child's mother was at work, and the babysitter had gone into the house more than twenty minutes ago. It was the first time in three days that the man had seen the girl left unattended. Nevertheless, he hesitated. Then he saw her begin to twitch. "Somebody's knocking! Somebody's knocking!" The man tensed and mouthed words under his breath. "Somebody's knocking! Somebody's knocking!" The man tensed and mouthed words under his breath.

He imagined that he could hear the soundless whispers now sifting into the girl's skull. They had found her. The girl stumbled out of the pool, still clutching her temples, jerking her head as if in the throes of a seizure. "Somebody's knocking! Somebody's knocking!" The man shot a wary glance toward the back door of the house and lunged toward her. Seeing him, the girl yelped and broke into a zigzagging run toward the house. He blocked her, but she dodged his grasping hands and doubled back on him, scrambling toward the backyard gate.

When he cut her off, she scampered to the chain-link fence that bordered the neighbors' yard, locked her fingers on its wire mesh, and shook it, screaming. As he took hold of her shoulders, though, a sudden exhaustion seemed to overwhelm her, and she drooped against the fence. Her face pinched with concentration, she whispered the letters of the alphabet like a rosary. " A-B-C-D-E-F-G... H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P... Q-R-S-T-U-V..." Her voice trailed off.

The contours of her face subtly changed, her expression darkening. Strength surged back into her small frame, and she whipped around, snarling, and clawed the fabric of his mask, trying to pull it from his face. Anticipating that she would do this, the man caught hold of her arms
and forced them down. "Who are you?" The girl's voice resonated with adult authority. "Why are you doing this to us?" She glared at him with gleaming violet eyes. The smooth, shallow hollows of his masked face betrayed no emotion, but the man trembled visibly.

Holding the struggling child at arm's length, he clasped her head with his rubber-skinned hands in an almost tender caress. And then, with a single brisk twist, he snapped her neck. Summoning a Witness TRAFFIC CLOTTED THE HOLLYWOOD FREEWAY THAT morning, and Dan missed the start of the Munoz murder trial. By the time he arrived at the Criminal Justice Center, the prosecution was already preparing to summon the victim to testify. Since he was running late, he decided to park in one of the privately owned downtown lots rather than search for the law-enforcement garage. The Bureau could eat the fourteen-dollar charge.

He regretted the choice before he'd walked even half a block, though, for he could feel sweat dampen the dress shirt beneath his blazer. Despite the oppressive heat, spectators and television news crews clustered around the courthouse entrance, the crowd held at bay by a cordon of uniformed guards from the Sheriff's Office. A Violet was due to take the stand today, an event so rare that it made headlines. Usually, the mere threat of a Violet's testimony served to force a plea bargain, yet Hector Munoz had insisted upon his not-guilty plea and demanded his day in court. Dan nudged his way through the crowd to the roped-off area surrounding the entrance and flashed his ID at the beige-shirted officer standing there, who waved him toward the door. "Okay, Agent... "Okay, Agent...

Atwater." The white-shirted guard, a beefy Hispanic man, read the ID and handed it back. "If you like, I can keep your gun for you until you pass through the detector...." Dan gave him a tight-lipped smile. "No need. I'm not carrying." He emptied his pockets into a wooden box and strolled through the door-shaped booth without setting off the alarm. The guard grinned. "In that case, have a wonderful day!" Dan touched two fingers to his forehead in a Boy Scout salute and collected his loose change and car keys.