Steven James - The Pawn (The Patrick Bowers Files, Book 1)

In his brilliant debut novel, Steven James gives us a captivating look at the fine line between good and evil in the human heart. The Pawn is not to be missed.

Ann Tatlock, Christy Awardwinning author

I consider The Pawn the best-written thriller Ive read from a Christian publisher.

Cecil Murphey, coauthor of 90 Minutes in Heaven and more than 100 other books

Steven James combines twenty-first-century, high-tech law enforcement techniques with eighteenth-century Sherlockian deduction to craft an exciting, suspense-filled story. Dr. Patrick Bowers uses geography and his wits in the pursuit of a calculating, ruthless predator. The Pawn covers a wide range of human experience as its characters fight both internal and external battles for their survival.

Dr. Kim Rossmo, Center for Geospatial Intelligence and Investigation, Texas State University

THE PAWN

THE BOWERS FILES

STEVEN JAMES

2007 by Steven James

Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com

Fourth printing, July 2008

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansfor example, electronic, photocopy, recordingwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

ISBN 978-0-8007-3240-0 (pbk.)

The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows: James, Steven, 1969
The pawn / Steven James.
p. cm.(The Bowers files ; bk. 1)
ISBN 10: 0-8007-1896-8 (cloth)
ISBN 978-0-8007-1896-1 (cloth)
1. DetectivesFiction. 2. CriminologistsFiction. 3. Serial murderersFiction. 4. MagiciansFiction. 5. Serial murder investigationFiction.
I. Title.
PS3610.A4545P39 2007
813'.6dc22

2007014279

Some of the events in this story are a matter of public record; many are products of the authors imagination and are not meant in any way to dishonor the victims or diminish the enormity of the tragedy that took place in Guyana.

In memory of
Gloria and Malcolm,
because your story matters

CONTENTS

March 5, 1985
La Cruxis, Mississippi
4:13 p.m.

It happened upstairs at her house after school on a Tuesday afternoon. Her parents were still at work, just like always. So Aaron Jeffrey Kincaid and Jessica Rembrandt had the house to themselves. Just like always. Most afternoons found them here, making out, fooling around in the basement.

But today was different. Today was the day.

Jessie smiled at her boyfriend as she unlocked the front door. Aaron Jeffrey Kincaid, she breathed, I love you. Her voice sounded so alluring, so alive. It said more than I love you; it said, I believe in you.

I love you too, Jessie. He stepped past her and swung the door open. Ill always love you. He said the words smoothly, convincingly, but he wondered if he really meant them. He wondered if he did love her; if hed ever loved anything at all.

He took her hand as they stepped into the living room. Then, with one smooth motion of his free hand, he shut the door behind them.

Theyd been going out for almost three months. At first itd been like any other relationship for himafter the initial thrill wore off, hed started to get bored with her; started to wonder if maybe hed be happier with someone else. But the more time he spent with her, the more he realized she did things to please him. Little things. She went to the movies he liked. She wore the clothes he told her to wear. And she let him do things to her, sometimes whatever he wanted to. So, of course, one day he started wondering how far she would go to please him, how much she would actually do. Who wouldnt wonder those kinds of things?

They headed upstairs to her parents bedroom. Thats where the whirlpool was.

He led her by the hand, and she followed without even a trace of hesitation in her step. Amazing.

Earlier that year another couple had been found in a car. In the garage. Double suicide. So all these counselors had arrived at their high school to talk to the students about death and hope and reasons to live. One of the counselors, a delicate woman with sweet, caramel eyes, had met with him individually. Aaron, have you ever thought about taking your own life?

And Aaron had given her a look, wide-eyed and innocent. Well, just like most kids, I guess. He was playing nave, searching her eyes for understanding and compassion, toying with her. I guess Ive thought about itsuicide that is. But nothing serious. Nothing specific.

And she nodded and wrote something down in her notebook. Then he leaned close. Is there something wrong with me?

She smiled. No, of course not, Aaron. Its perfectly normal to think about ending your life sometimes. Id be a little worried if the thought had never crossed your mind. Then she laughed as if that should have been funny or comforting or something. And she looked across the table at him reassuringly, and he smiled back at her in a boyish, trusting way.

Thanks, he said. Youve been very helpful.

And after that, the counselors left their numbers on little cards and on posters on the walls of the school for kids who felt lonely or depressed or needed someone to talk to. Theyll be back in two months, the principal had told the students at an assembly in the gym, to follow up with anyone who needs to talk some more.

Maybe hed gotten the idea from thatthe double suicide and the meetings and the counselor with the eyes of a doe. It was hard to say. Aaron had tried to trace the exact origin of the idea, but finally hed realized that sometimes ideas just come to you fully formed, as this one had. And in the end it doesnt really matter so much where they come from as it does where they lead you, what you do with them.

Itll all be over soon, Jessie said as they entered the bedroom. Her voice was more agitated now, excited. Maybe fear had crept into it.

No, soon itll all begin. He walked over to the window and twisted the blinds shut to close out the warm afternoon sunshine. A few slivers of sunlight cut through the spaces between the blinds and landed on the lightly ruffled blankets on Jessies parents bedstreaks of light and darkness lying next to each other, side by side. He walked through the zebra-shadowed room to her arms. Soon itll all begin, he repeated. And then well be together forever, and nothing will ever be able to keep us apart.

Im ready, she whispered.

Its a cruel world, said Aaron Jeffrey Kincaid.

Its a cruel world, echoed Jessica Rembrandt.

But our love will unite us forever.

Our love will unite us forever...

Aaron pulled the polished stainless steel hunting knife out of his backpack and led Jessie to the whirlpool. The knife had a serrated edge on one side and a wickedly curved blade on the other. Theyd picked it out together last week at a sporting goods store at the mall. The two of them had been planning this for weeks, to make sure everything was perfect. After they found the knife, Aaron had sent her in to pay for it with cash while he waited outside to keep watch. Hed made her think it was all her idea. He was good at that.

Jessie turned on the whirlpool.

The motor hummed, sending jets of warm water churning at their feet.

Ill go first, she said, because I love you. Her voice was shaking. Her breathing, fast.

No, Ill go first. Just like we practiced.

They stripped off their clothes and eased into the whirlpool. Only two heads and a pair of shoulders were visible now above the foaming, roiling water.