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The Departed

The Departed

Titel: The Departed
Autoren: Shiloh Walker
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    This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
    Copyright © 2012 by Shiloh Walker, Inc.
    Cover photo by Claudio Marinesco.
    Cover design by Edwin Tse.
    Interior text design by Tiffany Estreicher.
    All rights reserved.
    No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
    BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
    The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
    PRINTING HISTORY
    Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / January 2012
    Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
    Walker, Shiloh.
      The departed / Shiloh Walker.—Berkley Sensation trade paperback ed.
        p. cm.
      ISBN 978-0-425-24521-7
    1. Psychic ability—Fiction. I. Title.
      PS3623.A35958D47 2012
      813.6—dc23
    2011036848
     
    PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
    10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
     

For my family…always. You’re my everything. I thank God for you.
    For Patti D.…you were the first one to ask when Taylor would get a story. The first. And I told you he wouldn’t get one. I think I even called him a bad name. He’s another one of those characters I never planned on giving a story to—I didn’t think there was a story there. But I kept getting asked, first by Patti, then others: But I want to know why he’s the way he is . Why is one of those questions that can be deadly for a writer—it starts all those strange little wheels spinning. I got asked why too many times about Taylor and those wheels started spinning. Turns out he had a story after all.
    And because I’m always asking him for medical help, I think I should probably mention Klaus B. for that help. Thanks bunches!

     

AUTHOR’S NOTE
    French Lick, Indiana, is a lovely old town…a lot of history runs through it and I wanted that for this story. But I took a little bit of liberty while writing it…putting in an extra resort, placing a jail where there isn’t one, a florist shop. In reality, I wouldn’t change a thing about the town, but for the book, I needed to change a few things.
    I also made free with my fictional little special task force of the FBI—one headed by the hero, Taylor Jones. Taylor’s in charge of some special people—psychics—and they work pretty hard to stay out of the public eye. I know his task force isn’t portrayed very accurately, but, well, the FBI wouldn’t let me come in to play with them…

CHAPTER ONE
    “FUCKING crazy,” one of the techs muttered, watching as Dez Lincoln stood in the middle of a desolate Iowa field with a smile on her face.
    She was a beautiful woman—her black hair cut short, no more than an inch long, currently spiked up. Her skin was a light, smooth brown and her eyes were dark, so dark they almost appeared black, set under feathery, arched brows. Her body was all curves and long limbs, round hips, and a chest that was undeniably female . But there was no mistaking the strength—there was well-toned muscle to go along with those curves.
    No doubt about it, she was gorgeous, and when she smiled, she could make the hearts of the men around her race.
    But right now, her smile was fucking freaky .
    Under her feet, they suspected, were dozens of bones. Unmarked graves.
    The location of a serial killer’s little playground. Or maybe his burial ground.
    But she smiled. It was a peaceful, beautiful smile—a Mona Lisa smile, and it didn’t belong in the place of death and decay, the tech thought.
    Fucking freaky . He muttered it under his breath again and went to turn away, only to
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