Blood Trade: A Sean Coleman Thriller

BOOK: Blood Trade: A Sean Coleman Thriller
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Blood Trade: A Sean Coleman Thriller

© 2015 John A. Daly. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
digital, photocopying, or recording, except for the inclusion in a review, without
permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations,
and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously.

Published in the United States by BQB Publishing Company

www.bqbpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN 978-1-939371-69-0 (p)

ISBN 978-1-939371-70-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015937918

Book design by Robin Krauss,
www.bookformatters.com

Cover design by Dave Grauel,
www.davidgrauel.com

Also in the Sean Coleman Thriller series from John A. Daly

From a Dead Sleep

2015, BQB Publishing

Praise for John A. Daly and
From a Dead Sleep

Some writers are thoughtful. Some have style. John Daly has both. When I read his
work, it’s time well spent.

—Bernard Goldberg,

New York Times
bestselling author of
Bias

An epic thriller with a memorable, unorthodox main character . . . a riveting read
. . .


Colorado Country Life Magazine

A fast-reading suspense book that surprised me so much, I had to finish it in one
sitting.

—Alice de Sturler

of the American Investigative Society of Cold Cases

A thriller that packs a punch! This was a very exciting debut novel from John A.
Daly. This novel packs a lot of jaw-dropping action into its well-structured narrative—a
narrative that gives life to the myriad of characters that inhabit its pages and
provides plenty of plot twists and turns to keep you glued to the pages.

—Reading, Writing, and Riesling book blog

I loved this book. The suspense had me sitting on the edge of my seat . . . The author
did a fabulous job with the setting details—I could picture every touch, smell, sight
that the characters went through . . .

—Yawatta Hosby, author of the novel
One by One

From a Dead Sleep
is a page-turner, an exciting, well-written thriller with a solid
back story and more than enough plot twists to keep you guessing.

—Marilyn Armstrong, Serendipity book blog

I totally enjoyed reading John A. Daly’s
From a Dead Sleep
. The author used creative
writing techniques that make this a mystery/suspense that is very different from
other books in this genre . . . The author also does a wonderful job of creating
characters and scenes that are quirky, yet believable . . . I highly recommend this
entertaining story.

—Paige Lovitt, Reader Views

John pens
From a Dead Sleep
in a well-written plot filled with mystery, suspense
and drama. Between his well-developed characters and all the twists and turns within
the story line, you will find yourself having a really hard time putting the book
down . . . I know I did! Highly recommended for all mystery and suspense fans. I
give
From a Dead Sleep
a five-star rating.

—Susan Peck, My Cozie Corner book blog

[An] exciting murder mystery that keeps the reader wanting more. A well-written novel
that shows one man’s flaws and how he redeems himself to the town and ultimately
himself. I love a good mystery and this one is one that definitely deserves a read
by the mystery lover.

—Kathleen Kelly, Celticlady’s Reviews

I love mysteries and I love thrillers. This book was both of those things for me
. . . I highly recommend this book for anyone who loves suspense, thriller, action
novels . . . and yes, there is a little bit of romance in it. I am giving it five
stars because, honestly, I couldn’t put it down once I picked it up . . . it deserves
FIVE STARS.

—Becca Wilson, Manic Mama of 2 book blog

John Daly’s
From a Dead Sleep
is an engaging page-turner with likable characters
. . . Daly delivers a twist and the famous words of Sir Walter Scott will be playing
in the background, “Oh, what a tangled web we weave / When first we practice to deceive!”
. . . If you’re looking for a good mystery or are trying to break out of a reading
slump, I highly recommend John Daly’s
From a Dead Sleep
. Just a bit of warning: don’t
start this right before you go to bed, you won’t be able to put it down.

—Literary, etc. book blog

An unconventional hero that readers come to like if not love. Plenty of twists and
turns will keep readers glued to their seats.

—Cayocosta72 book reviews

Wow, this book will keep you on the edge of your seat . . . The story takes twists
and turns that you just simply won’t see coming. This is a very exciting mystery
and you won’t want to put it down . . . John Daly’s writing style is a refreshing
one. And I must say that when I finished reading this book I wanted to read more
by this author. I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a well-written
mystery, full of suspense and drama.

—Chris Condy, Recent Reads book blog

Dedication

To my wife, Sarah, who’s always been my biggest supporter.

CONTENTS

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

July 14th, 2001

Saturday

Chapter 1

H
e kept his distance from her car, letting up on the gas pedal just long enough
to release her rear bumper from the imposing beams of his headlights. The evening
had already been awkward enough. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he
was following her back to her apartment to begin a new round of arguing.

If the traffic weren’t so sparse, it wouldn’t have been a worry. He would have just
faded into a sea of other beams and she never would have even known he was still
there. It would have spared him the mental torment of worrying about what might be
bouncing off the walls of his twenty-year-old daughter’s head as she glanced into
her rearview mirror. He’d already caught her doing it twice.

Andrew Carson didn’t have an appetite for more drama. He had no interest in further
badgering Katelyn about wasting her time and energy on a
loser
boyfriend who had
no ambition and didn’t treat her right. He certainly hadn’t the stomach to listen
to more details of how blissful his ex-wife’s life was with her new husband, either.
Katelyn clearly liked her new stepfather, which made the repeated mention of him
even harder to swallow.

All Andrew wanted right then was to clear his head and get over to the 24-hour Walmart
to pick up some supplies for an accounting conference down in Colorado Springs the
next morning: last minute items, like printer paper and binders for his presentation
of a new software line. The late night detour to the store had been planned in
advance,
but he’d failed to mention the side-trip to Katelyn during dinner.

He sat in gratuitous silence that soon grew cumbersome under the intermittent glare
of overhead street lamps. The muteness let his mind race with odd thoughts and regret.
He learned forward and twisted an illuminated radio knob, then went for the tuner.
He found an unfamiliar song that was winding its way through a long, lonely guitar
solo. It seemed to fit his mood, so he returned his hand to the steering wheel.

A light drizzle that had been sprinkling down across his windshield began shaping into fine flakes of snow, much like what he’d observed the night before from the upstairs bedroom window of his bare house as he laid awake in bed, unable to sleep.

He lifted his hypnotic gaze from the back of Katelyn’s car and met his own dim reflection
in the rearview mirror. He looked as tired as he felt. Above his brows dangled the
bangs of his long and wavy dishwater-blond hair. He knew that most men his age would
kill for such a dense mane. He mused that it was one of the few things beyond his
job that he now had going for him in life.

Quickly approaching the adulthood milestone of a half century, his appearance often
led others to speculate that he was younger than he was—perhaps not even a day over
forty. He kept himself fairly trim, too, which added to the perception.

He certainly didn’t
feel
young, however. For the most part, he had physically recovered
from the automobile accident that had crushed his leg two years ago, so it wasn’t
his health that weighed on him. It was the emotional toll. Though his body was nearly
mended, his marriage couldn’t be. For someone once so content with every aspect of
his life, the strange new world of solitude and self-doubt felt like a persistent
opponent intent on keeping him off a game he had forgotten how to play.

Brake lights flared brightly in front of him, and his attention swept back into focus
on the road. Katelyn’s right blinker began
pulsating. He smirked at the sight, knowing
he needed to make the same turn.

He sighed. “Just another mile or so, sweetie, and then you’ll be rid of me for the
evening.”

A years-old memory of how he used to read stories to his daughter before putting
her to bed at night flickered through his head. It brought the slightest of curl
to his lips, but the expression soon returned to one of sadness. It was good that
they drove separate cars to the restaurant. He couldn’t imagine riding back with
her in close quarters after how they’d left things. Who knows what else would have
been said?

He watched her veer onto the side exit, which led down a mild slope to the waiting
interstate below. He was following her maneuver with his gaze when an unexpected
sight grabbed his attention. A cloudy cloak of what appeared to be fog suddenly engulfed
her automobile.

His eyes absorbed the transformation of her taillights from clearly defined rectangles
to a pair of red blurs inside the fog. He found himself pressing his foot down heavier
on the brake pedal that he had already been pumping to make the turn.

As best he could tell, Katelyn wasn’t at all fazed by the billow that surrounded
her. She even seemed to be picking up speed, prompting Andrew to speculate that she
may have decided to use the opportunity as a proverbial smoke screen to put some
distance between them.

His car entered the swell, and once inside, an odor of thick exhaust and burnt rubber
poured in through his slightly cracked window. He quickly realized that he wasn’t
inside a dense fog but rather the product of some form of combustion. The cloud was
thicker to his left where plumes of it rose up from the bottom of a steep gully off
the shoulder of the road. He sat up in his seat and peered out his window over the
edge of the slope to try and determine its source. What he saw was another set of
taillights. They
pointed upward toward the top of the hill. An automobile had gone
over the embankment and crashed front first at its bottom.

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