AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Curious, she walked into the alleyway to look.
It was a golden statue of a man, naked except for a pair of golden shorts. Absolutely lifelike, and life size, standing with his head raised, and his arms slightly bent, palms turned to the sky. The gold shimmered in the dim light.
She blinked. Had he beckoned to her? Or had she totally imagined that. It had been only a moment when she thought she’d seen his fingers move. But looking again, at that stillness, she decided she’d been wrong. She didn’t think it was a real person.
What was it, she wondered. Was there a sculpture shop on the main street? Was this a discarded stage prop from the theater that she thought she remembered was close to here? Had it been thrown out into this alley? It didn't look damaged, though. Not broken in any way. In fact, it looked pristine.
There was something about its pose that intrigued her. A feeling of desperation restrained, of violence contained. It was beautiful, each muscle defined, but there was a definite element of threat there that brought her uneasiness bubbling to the surface again.
As she approached, wanting to look more closely, she frowned. It was incredibly lifelike. Surely it couldn't be a real person?
Why would a real person pretending to be a statue be here, in this narrow, deserted passageway? Why not posing on a pedestal on the main street nearby?
Besides, it was utterly still. This statue wasn't moving. Wasn't even visibly breathing.
The eyes would tell her, she decided, stepping closer.
How she wished she had her camera with her. Damn her phone’s useless battery; she'd have loved to take a photo of it. Real or not, that pose was troubling and fascinating all at once.
She walked closer. Was it real?
"Es-tu vivant?" she asked aloud. Are you alive?
The statue remained immobile, and it was as if her words had no effect at all.
Touching him would tell her. The feel of flesh, or of cold, solid metal would decide this once and for all. Feeling suddenly impudent, as if she wanted to push the boundaries - or maybe it was that she was feeling more confident now that she had her bearings again - she stepped forward.
As she reached out to touch his arm, his hands moved. Faster than thought. Faster than she could imagine. In a golden blur.
Claudette would have screamed in shock, but she couldn't. His hands, those gold painted fingers, were wrapped tightly around her throat.
In a panic, she began to struggle, but although the fingers were flesh, they were as strong as steel, and her air was totally cut off. There was no escape. No way to scream. No way to breathe.
And finally, his gaze fixed on her.
The cold, merciless light in his eyes was the last thing she saw as darkness rushed in.
CHAPTER ONE
For the past two months, FBI special agent Juliette Hart had felt as if she was tracking an elusive shadow. A disappearing demon. Until a new lead had brought her here.
Now, if this raid went the way she hoped it would, she would confront him at last.
"You can't vanish forever," she muttered, addressing this invisible man, nicknamed Goldenface by the team. Finally, they had a chance at catching this creepy killer who had terrorized the wider area. A month ago, there had been three murders in the space of a week, all the same MO. One in Brooklyn, one in lower Manhattan, and one in Jersey City.
She’d worked night and day on the case, desperately hoping for a breakthrough that would lead her team to this elusive killer. The murders had stopped, and he’d seemingly vanished. Now, finally, they had a lead that might bring them to his doorstep.
Taking a deep breath and checking her surroundings yet again, she stepped closer to the apartment building that was just a few miles from JFK Airport, so close that you could hear the roar of the airplanes overhead.
She felt the way she always did when she was getting close to cornering an adversary. It was a breathless blend of adrenaline, terror, and excitement. When she'd been a younger agent, that feeling had been overpowering. She'd felt shaken and unable to sleep for days after a job.
Now, at the age of thirty-three, she could handle the pressure better. That wasn’t surprising, since she was so committed to her work and everything it involved, barely having a social life outside of it. That was something that occasionally worried her. She knew she needed to change things, to achieve a better balance in life. She loved cooking, and she’d always wanted to learn how to play a musical instrument, but somehow there was never time.
She breathed in and out, deeply, forcing herself to stay calm and focused, lifting a hand to brush away a lock of honey blonde hair that had come loose from her ponytail. Her eyes, a warm hazel green, were hidden behind dark glasses. She herself, at this stage of the mission, was in plainclothes, wearing navy chinos and a gray jacket, blending in with the stream of office workers who were leaving the commercial parts of the city and heading home.
They'd been hunting him for weeks, but it was only in the last few days that things had moved fast on the Goldenface case. At this very moment, at the FBI headquarters, they were organizing an emergency no-knock warrant that would allow her to do what she needed to - break into this apartment, and hopefully surprise the man inside.
Her partner, agent Evan Forrester, was around the back of the apartment building, watching the fire exit. She trusted him implicitly. They'd been in several tough situations in the fourteen months they'd worked together. Every time, he'd had her back and vice-versa.
