I Fear No EvilComplete Series Omnibus
Martha Carr Michael Anderle
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2018 Martha Carr & Michael Anderle
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, March 2020
ebook ISBN: 978-1-64202-769-3
The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-20 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.
Contents
Kill The Willing
Bury The Past, But Shoot It First
Reload Faster
Dead In Plain Sight
Tomb Raiding PHD
Tomb Raider Emeritus
Kill The Willing
I Fear No Evil Book 1
Kill The Willing
Chapter One
Shay Carson wondered which one was dumber - returning to New York when she was supposed to be dead or kidnapping a man while driving a sports car. The bright red Porsche was fast enough, but if her target resisted at all, the poor baby might end up damaged. Kidnapping really seemed like more of a sketchy, windowless van kind of activity.
Not that the vehicle choice mattered that much, she supposed. The Porsche wasn’t even her car, but it did seem like an asshole move to rent a car, and a Porsche at that, and then trash it. Though if all went well, there wouldn’t be an issue, and even if there were, it’d be the poor fictional redhead, Abigail Johnson who would have to deal with the fallout. At least Shay wasn’t such a bitch that she stole someone else’s identity for the job. Manners, even while on the job. It was important to maintain standards.
Wish I had my Spider, but it’s not like I wanted to drive all the way back to L.A. from the opposite coast.
A quick check out the window indicated her target hadn’t stepped into the street yet. The timing needed to be perfect. Her previous recon suggested very little foot traffic this time of night. All she needed to do was get the man in the car, and the dark of the early evening and her tinted windows would do the rest to conceal her snatch and grab operation. Even if someone spotted her, her fake plates, auburn wig, and oversized sunglasses would be enough to lead the police or any other dangerous and interested men down the wrong path.
The door to the office building swung open and her target stepped out. A young man, twenty-four, a little on the scrawny side, and handsome enough in that kind of generic Connecticut white-bread-wealthy-family way. Not really her type, but she could see the appeal.
Jefferson Peyton Coolidge. It’s been a while.
Shay chuckled. It’d also been a long time since she thought much about his full name. The man tended to go by his middle name, derived from his mother’s maiden name, another white bread custom.
The full name screamed money, unlike her name, Shay Carson.
“Look at you,” she snickered to herself. “You shouldn’t have played at being independent. Too late now, though.”
Peyton made his way down the street toward a crosswalk. He took one step off the curb as Shay gunned her engine, the Porsche speeding toward the man. Her target froze, his eyes widening. The car screeched into a halt right in front of him.
Shay leapt out of the car before the man even registered that he wasn’t becoming a new hood ornament. She yanked hard on Peyton’s arm, threw open the passenger door, and shoved him in. Only respect for the car’s paint job kept her from jumping over the hood to get back to the driver’s seat. Still, a quick and successful kidnapping. Took seconds from start to finish.
“Wha…what is going on?” Peyton asked, his head turning side to side in a frantic effort to understand what the hell just happened.
Shay peeled out and took a hard right. “Put on your seatbelt.” She yanked off her red wig and glasses and tossed them at Peyton’s feet, revealing her dyed blond hair.
The man stared at her, his brown eyes wide. “No, no. This isn’t happening. I… you’re dead. I went to your funeral!” He gasped. “Oh crap. Are you a ghost? Wait… you’re driving a car. You’re a revenant? Shit…please tell me you didn’t get mixed up with necromancers before you died, Shay.”
“I’m not dead, idiot,” Shay said with a smirk, making a hard left across oncoming traffic, flipping off one of the drivers that honked. “And I appreciated the flowers at my funeral. That was a nice arrangement you put on my casket. Very sweet, touching… almost.”
Peyton stared at her, his mouth unable to form any more words for a solid minute. Shay didn’t mind, it gave her a chance to concentrate on the road and check for any vehicles or worse, drones, that might be following them. The skies and roads were clear of anything suspicious.
“What’s going on?” the man finally managed. “I… don’t understand why you’re here, and why I’m in your car.”
Shay slowed a bit, checking her mirrors. There was no reason to attract NYPD attention with something as stupid as speeding. Save it for something more fun.
She glanced over at him before returning her attention to the road. “First of all, just to be very clear, I faked my death. I decided I needed a new life… that didn’t involve killing people.” She frowned. “Well, at least not killing people all the time. A line of work that
