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  INVITATION TO DIE

  (The Killing Game—Book 1)

  Jaden Skye

  Jaden Skye

  Jaden Skye is author of the #1 Bestselling CARIBBEAN MURDER series, which includes 16 books (and counting). The first book in the series, DEATH BY HONEYMOON, a #1 Bestseller, is now available as a FREE download on Amazon!

  Jaden is also author of the romance series THE TOM RIVER’S SERIES, which begins with A PERFECT STRANGER (Book #1).

  Jaden is also author of the new romantic suspense series MURDER IN THE KEYS, which begins with NO PLACE TO DIE (Book #1), and of the romantic suspense series THE KILLING GAME, which begins with INVITATION TO DIE (Book #1).

  Jaden has always been fascinated with mystery, wrongful death, lies, deception and the power of the truth to prevail. Her romantic suspense/mystery novels feature strong female protagonists who must overcome insurmountable obstacles, and through them, she seeks to get to the very heart of the nature of justice and love.

  Please visit www.jadenskye.com to find links to stay in touch with Jaden via Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, her blog, and a whole bunch of other places. Jaden loves to hear from you, so don't be shy and check back often!

  Books by Jaden Skye

  THE CARIBBEAN MURDER SERIES

  DEATH BY HONEYMOON (Book #1)

  DEATH BY DIVORCE (Book #2)

  DEATH BY MARRIAGE (Book #3)

  DEATH BY DESIRE (Book #4)

  DEATH BY DECEIT (Book #5)

  DEATH BY JEALOUSY (Book #6)

  DEATH BY PROPOSAL (Book #7)

  DEATH BY OBSESSION (Book #8)

  DEATH BY DEVOTION (Book #9)

  DEATH BY BETRAYAL (Book #10)

  DEATH BY REQUEST (Book #11)

  DEATH BY ENGAGEMENT (Book #12)

  DEATH BY SEDUCTION (Book #13)

  DEATH BY TEMPTATION (Book #14)

  DEATH BY INVITATION (Book #15)

  DEATH BY WEDDING (Book #16)

  THE TOM’S RIVER SAGA

  A PERFECT STRANGER (Book #1)

  MURDER IN THE KEYS

  NO PLACE TO DIE (Book #1)

  NO PLACE TO VANISH (Book #2)

  THE KILLING GAME

  INVITATION TO DIE (Book #1)

  INVITATION TO MADNESS (Book #2)

  INVITATION TO AGONY (Book #3)

  Tap here to download Jaden Skye books now!

  Copyright © 2015 by Jaden Skye

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Jacket image ©iStock.com/leminuit

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 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

  Prologue

  On a beautiful Sunday in May, families drifted to the Boston Public Garden to take their children for a Swan Boat ride along the pond. The irregularly shaped pond wound across four acres, sparkling in the sun from any point in the park. The Swan Boats, historic foot-pedaled vessels guided by drivers, glided along in the mild spring breeze, deepening the peace and tranquility of the park, providing the sense that all was right with the world, and always would be.

  This morning, however, as soon as the ride opened, a loud shriek suddenly sounded mercilessly from one of the boats, echoing over the pond. The terrified driver stood tall on the boat’s edge, frantically waving his hands for help. Other boats stopped moving, and a crowd started to gather, as clouds of fear descended over the families who had come to revel in the beautiful day. They all wanted to get close, to see what the commotion was, what could possibly ruin their perfect harmony.

  And as the crowds thickened, pressing in on the boat, people jockeying for position, finally, the sight revealed itself. A child on the boat had tripped. And as he stood, he looked down in terror.

  It was the corpse of a young, beautiful woman, mangled beyond recognition. She lay on the floor of the boat, staring up at the sky, as if to ask one simple question: how could this ever happen here?

  Chapter 1

  Tracy Wrenn stood at the podium, talking to a standing-room only crowd at John Jay College for Criminal Justice. They were transfixed. At thirty-three, Tracy’s reputation as a brilliant criminal profiler and forensic psychologist had already spread far and wide. Everyone in the field was talking about her stunning success at finding killers, her daring insights, her unusual point of view. Her amazing talent was even surpassed by her startling good looks: incredibly beautiful, with long, silky chestnut hair and huge green eyes, Tracy’s looks were known to stop men in their tracks. But she never paid attention to that. It was the work that she lived for. And now, standing before that podium, she was exhilarated.

  “It’s always a mistake to assume there’s ever a simple or single motive for murder,” Tracy started, looking straight into the audience’s eyes. “An act such as murder is always over-determined. Many causes must interact, and if they’re not all present, it is entirely possible that the victim will live to see another day and that the killing will not take place, ever. The would-be murderer may spend his or her entire life hiding under the fragile cloak of respectability, never daring to take the cloak off and reveal the darkness hovering within.”

  The silence in the room deepened. The audience sat on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear more, and Tracy spoke without pausing, barely glancing down at her copious notes.

  “Even in the most rabid killer there are many inbuilt inhibitions,” she continued. “That is why it’s such a great shock when we discover that our kind, charitable neighbor is the one who has committed such heinous crimes. How is it possible? How could we not have recognized what was really going on? Great question. A question that must be answered if we are to understand the true workings of a killer’s psyche and if we are to track him or her down. Don’t be mistaken: there are deep forces we are up against. These forces are fierce and willful. They disguise themselves in devious ways. Yet we must discover and expose them.”

  Little beads of perspiration broke out on Tracy’s forehead. It was e
arly May and warmer than usual for this time of year. She was dressed in an especially well-fitting orange linen spring suit that added to the overall effect of her talk. She knew she had to look especially good today. After the lecture was over she was meeting Wess, who had a special day planned. Tracy knew he was going to propose. Wess wasn’t one for surprises; he’d let her know in so many ways. The time had come, and she could hardly wait.

  Bolstered now by the audience’s rapt attention, Tracy went on.

  “Some say a murder is predetermined by genes, family history, circumstances, or conditioning. But stop a moment and ask yourself, is a killer destined to kill? Is it their fate? Can they be spotted and stopped before they start? Although many disagree, I say Yes! A killer can definitely be stopped if we can see through their camouflage and realize who they truly are. And that insight will also help us catch culprits who have already let loose and wreaked their damage on the world.”

  Tracy had the audience in the palm of her hand, and there was nothing she enjoyed more. Her work was vital, her message crucial. She’d spent so many years studying the psychology of the murderous mind, and desperately needed to share her views with those who cared. Precious lives were at stake, after all. So much unnecessary suffering could be avoided if even a few truly understood. There had to be a band of individuals trained in finding, spotting, and preventing those who killed.

  Tracy brushed her hair back from her face with the flick of her hand and plunged onward.

  “So, when does a killer start to kill? There are different key points to be aware of. One is when circumstances change abruptly and the balance tips, disrupting the killer’s equilibrium. Suddenly a path opens where no path existed before. Murder can seem easy or natural then. The killer wonders what stopped him before. Another key point of danger is when a random thought takes hold of the killer, one he never gave much attention to before. Now the deranged thought assumes front row center. It grips the killer, haunts him, and leads him to the edge of the cliff. If you can find out what the thought is, exactly what has obsessed the killer, that knowledge will lead you straight to him.”

  Tracy paused and took a drink of cool water from the glass on the podium.

  “Another crucial factor is a small, four-letter word: hope. Can we live without hope? Without hope can we remain human? Some killers become activated in a sudden flash when all hope disappears, when a long-cherished dream vanishes, for example. Then the whole point of living fades away and killing becomes the point of living. The killing replaces the frustrated hopes and dreams. The act of killing itself gives meaning to a life turned hollow. The murderer now feels powerful and worthwhile.

  “Our job as professionals is to look at every factor in a killer’s life; their environment, thoughts, motivations, and dreams. Nothing is to be discounted. We must examine every corner of their lives.”

  Tracy saw some members of the audience taking rabid notes. Pleased, she went forward.

  “We have more to do as criminal profilers and forensic psychologists than we realize. Our most basic job is to provide a profile of the killer, to help law enforcement focus their search. We examine the crime scene and specific nature of the murder. We look at the killer’s MO and signature. But an additional question remains for us. How can we help stop the killing before it takes place? How can we know when an individual has been pulled down to the depths and is about to resurface into a life of crime? These are important questions that must also be attended to. Once out in the field, working with real human beings, you will find that it is never black or white. Textbook categories and diagnoses are helpful, but ultimately limited. You are always up against real human beings who can change from day to day. These are human beings who most likely live their lives in camouflage, hiding even from themselves. Remember that. You must find the core that drives them, the heartbeat of what has made them kill.”

  Tracy flinched as her cellphone rang abruptly, interrupting her flow of thought. She blushed, embarrassed; she thought she’d turned it off.

  “So sorry,” she said, reaching for her phone. She was about to shut it off when she saw the caller ID and took a sharp breath. The FBI. Hunter Jordan, head of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He never called her unless it was urgent. She knew she could not ignore it.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said to the audience. “Let’s take a short break and pick up where we left off in a few minutes.”

  People rustled in their seats and began to get up while Tracy quickly stepped down from the podium and walked to the private alcove behind the lecture hall.

  “Thanks for picking up,” Hunter started in a brisk, no-nonsense tone.

  Tracy heard the strained edge in his voice and immediately knew there was big trouble. She’d worked with Hunter on two other cases and he’d always been calm and balanced, the consummate professional. But he wasn’t so calm and balanced now.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked swiftly.

  “You’ve been keeping up with the news, right?” he asked succinctly.

  “Of course,” said Tracy. She knew what he was referring to. That very day she’d read again about the frantic search for the second young woman who’d gone missing in Boston about two weeks ago. So far everything had come up cold.

  “The second victim’s body was found a couple of hours ago,” Hunter continued without waiting. “The killer left her twisted and mangled, on the floor of a Swan Boat Ride.”

  Tracy gasped.

  “A Swan Boat Ride?”

  She’d been on one as a young child, whenever her family visited Boston. She’d always loved them. They’d seemed like the safest place in the world.

  Hunter’s voice grew gravelly.

  “A kid taking the ride on the boat spotted the body.” Then he paused. It obviously got to him. It was always harder to take when children were involved. “Police found the same note the killer left with the first victim’s body. Find Me.”

  A wave of nausea rose up in Tracy.

  “Police think we’ve got a serial killer loose,” Hunter went on. “Could also be a spree killer on a rampage. We’ve been called in to help.”

  “Good idea,” breathed Tracy.

  “I’m pulling our resources together,” Hunter continued, “and I want you on the case right away.” He spoke in no uncertain terms, as if it were unimaginable that Tracy would ever think of saying no. Tracy knew Hunter respected her, that he appreciated her dedication and the long hours she’d put in on the other cases they’d worked on. Tracy had made a real difference in the two other cases, too. Of course, those cases were much lower profile than this one.

  “Will you do it?” Hunter’s voice became clipped and hurried.

  Tracy hesitated; she thought of her big night coming up with Wess, her promise to be there. The idea of letting him down killed her.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Of course,” she heard herself say.

  “Good.” Hunter relaxed. “Can you catch the next plane up?”

  “Next train out,” she responded. She didn’t want to jump on a plane; she enjoyed train rides, and needed the time to gather her thoughts and come up with a plan of attack as she transitioned from what she was doing to the world of the crime.

  “Okay.” Hunter sounded relieved. “And thank you. I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Meet me at the FBI offices in Boston. I’ll email you the files we’ve got on the case so far.”

  Tracy hung up the phone, her heart beating. It was incredible to be called in as a consultant by the head of the BAU at the FBI for a third time. The college would be thrilled about it, pleased to give her time off again. Her assistant would take over her classes and everyone would win. She was also finishing up a residency at Granges, a hospital for the criminally insane, and they, too, would be pleased to hear that she was on a case of this magnitude.

  She had to call Wess immediately, though, to cancel their plans. She had a pit in her gut as she dialed him, looking out at the crowd eagerly awa
iting her return.

  “Lecture over already?” he asked, excited. “We can meet earlier than planned.”

  “Wess, I’ve just had a phone call,” Tracy interrupted breathlessly.

  “What kind of call?” he responded, unsettled.

  “You’ve heard about the search for the second woman who went missing in Boston? Well, her body has just been found. The FBI called and asked me to come immediately. They could be up against a spree killer and everyone’s terrified he’ll strike again. They need all the help they can get, including me.”

  Wess was clearly taken aback. There followed a long, disapproving pause.

  “What’s a spree killer?” he mumbled.

  “It’s a killer on a rampage,” Tracy spoke heatedly. “They don’t leave much time between murders. With a serial killer, there’s a cooling off period.”

  “Spare me the details,” he interrupted. “I don’t need a lecture.” His voice rose. “What are you telling me, Tracy?”

  “I have to catch the train right away,” she said. “I’m cancelling our plans for tonight.”

  “Cancelling?” Wess balked.

  “I know it’s important,” Tracy’s voice caught for a moment.

  “It’s beyond important,” Wess insisted. “We talked about it. You know what’s happening. You can’t spoil our plans. Leave later.”

  “I can’t,” Tracy gathered her wits quickly. “How can I enjoy our evening when he could kill again at any moment?”

  “Is leaving a few hours later going to make the difference between life and death?” he demanded.

  “It could,” Tracy started to feel uneasy. “It’s possible I could quickly spot something that no one else has realized.”

  “Possible, but what are the chances?” Wess wasn’t backing down. Tracy knew he could be incredibly single-minded. That’s why he was so successful at work.

  “Wess”—Tracy wanted to make him understand—“this is an emergency and there’s no time to lose. People’s lives are at stake. I have to go now. We’ll reschedule as soon as possible.”