The falcon nina guerrera, p.1
The Falcon (Nina Guerrera), page 1
PRAISE FOR ISABELLA MALDONADO
A Different Dawn
“A horrifying crime, cat-and-mouse detection, aha moments, and extended suspense . . .”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Maldonado expertly ratchets up the tension as the pieces of the puzzle neatly fall into place. Suspense fans will be enthralled from the very first page.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A thrill ride from the very start. It starts off fast and never lets up. It’s one of the best thrillers of the summer.”
—Red Carpet Crash
“A Different Dawn is a heart-stopping journey on parallel tracks: police detection and personal . . . Isabella Maldonado has created an unforgettable hero in Nina Guerrera.”
—Criminal Element
“A killer of a novel. Fresh, fast, and utterly ingenious.”
—Brad Thor, #1 New York Times bestselling author
The Cipher
An Amazon Best Book of the Month: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense
“The survivor of a vicious crime confronts her fears in a hunt for a serial killer . . . forensic analysis, violent action, and a tough heroine who stands up to the last man on earth she wants to see again.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“[In] this riveting series launch from Maldonado . . . the frequent plot twists will keep readers guessing to the end, and Maldonado draws on her twenty-two years in law enforcement to add realism. Determined to overcome her painful past, the admirable Nina has enough depth to sustain a long-running series.”
—Publishers Weekly
“The Cipher by Isabella Maldonado is a nail-biting race against time.”
—POPSUGAR
“Maldonado does a superb job of depicting a woman who’s made a strength out of trauma, and an even better job at showing how a monster could use the internet to prey on the vulnerable. Maldonado spent twenty-two years in law enforcement and her experience shines through in The Cipher.”
—The Amazon Book Review
“A heart-pounding novel from page one, The Cipher checks all the boxes for a top-notch thriller: sharp plotting, big stakes, and characters—good and bad and everywhere in between—that are so richly drawn you’ll swear you’ve met them. I read this in one sitting and I guarantee you will too. Oh, another promise: you’ll absolutely love the Warrior Girl!”
—Jeffery Deaver, New York Times bestselling author
“Wow! A riveting tale in the hands of a superb storyteller.”
—J. A. Jance, New York Times bestselling author
“Intense, harrowing, and instantly addictive, The Cipher took my breath away. Isabella Maldonado has created an unforgettable heroine in Nina Guerrera, a dedicated FBI agent and trauma survivor with unique insight into the mind of a predator. This riveting story is everything a thriller should be.”
—Hilary Davidson, Washington Post bestselling author
ALSO BY ISABELLA MALDONADO
FBI Agent Nina Guerrera series
The Cipher
A Different Dawn
Detective Veranda Cruz series
Blood’s Echo
Phoenix Burning
Death Blow
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2022 by Isabella Maldonado
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542035620
ISBN-10: 1542035627
Cover design by Christopher Lin
For my family, whether related by blood or the bonds of friendship:
I am forever grateful for your understanding and patience over the years.
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
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter 1
Five years earlier
Falls Church, Virginia
Fairfax County police officer Nina Guerrera’s booted feet pounded the pavement as she raced after the shadowy figure fleeing from her. The thirteen-year-old girl she chased was petite—no bigger than Nina—but she was fast.
Nina knew from experience that a blast of adrenaline favored sprints over marathons. All she had to do was keep her quarry in sight and wait for fatigue to set in.
Probably coming to the same conclusion, the girl gripped the edge of a metal trash can as she rushed by, tipping it into Nina’s path.
Nina timed her footfalls as the can rolled toward her, hurdling over it without slowing her pace.
“I can do this all night, Bianca,” she called out. “How about you?”
Without turning or breaking her stride, the girl raised her left hand, middle finger extended.
Nina laughed loud enough for Bianca to hear, which was the point. She wanted her to know that running was futile.
The second mile proved too much for Bianca, who bent over to rest her palms on her knees and suck in gulps of air. Nina came to a leisurely stop several paces away, knowing better than to crowd her.
When Bianca finally caught her breath, she directed a stream of expletives at her pursuer between gasps. Certain the verbal barrage had been calculated to cover fear, Nina ignored Bianca’s rant and focused on her appearance.
At thirteen years old, Bianca Babbage had the haunted eyes, hunched shoulders, and wary demeanor of someone who had lived on the street when she was too small to defend herself.
Nina knew the look. She had seen it in the mirror when she was Bianca’s age.
“When’s the last time you ate?” Nina asked her quietly. “I can tell it’s been a while since you’ve had a hot meal.”
In her youth, Nina had known both physical and emotional starvation. Since she had become a patrol officer, she’d seen the symptoms in others enough times to recognize the deprivation that baggy clothes, heavy makeup, and a defiant attitude could not disguise. Symptoms on full display in the girl before her.
“What are you, the food police?” Bianca licked her lips, putting the lie to the sarcasm behind the question.
“My cruiser’s over there.” Nina tipped her head in the direction they had come from. “I can take you to get a burger.”
Bianca’s blue eyes narrowed with suspicion. “As soon as my butt hits the back seat, you’ll haul me off to juvie.”
Nina stepped closer. “Let me buy you dinner, Bianca. I want to talk to you. That’s all.”
Silence stretched between them. Nina could feel the girl’s penetrating gaze boring into her as she tried to figure out if she could trust a cop.
She had heard her fellow officers talking about Bianca back at the station over the past few weeks. They described her as a serial runner who seemed to prefer life on the street to foster care. The other cops couldn’t understand why the girl kept leaving a roof over her head and three squares to take her chances in dark alleys and wooded parks.
Nina understood.
She’d made a promise to herself that she would be the one to tak e the call the next time Bianca took off. Nina wouldn’t simply file a report and put out a BOLO—she would find Bianca and get her to talk.
Nina had taken the runaway report from the middle-aged couple who had served as Bianca’s foster parents for the past six months. The husband had been surly and unkempt, with a beer gut and a scraggly mustache only slightly thicker than that of his wife, whose nicotine-stained fingers constantly scratched at a rash on her fleshy neck. Nina had barely managed to hold herself in check when they referred to Bianca as a “problem child” who wouldn’t listen.
The same comments had appeared in reports from Nina’s foster parents and teachers when she was a foster child years ago.
Nina had combed local teenage hangouts that night, showing around a picture of Bianca until she finally traced her to a parking lot behind a strip mall. She spotted the girl among ten or fifteen kids who scattered in all directions as her marked patrol car came into view.
The cruiser’s tires had barely screeched to a stop before Nina had jumped out and started running after Bianca. Rather than tackle the girl to the ground, Nina had stayed on her heels through back alleys and dimly lit streets, never letting her out of sight.
Now that she’d had time to rest, Bianca showed signs of bolting again. Her eyes darted down the street, and her upper body tilted forward like a runner at the starting block. The promise of a meal had clearly enticed Bianca, but Nina was on borrowed time.
How to get her to stay? More importantly, how to get her to confide her secrets? Nina could only think of one way to earn Bianca’s trust.
She would open up first.
“Before you take off again,” she began, drawing Bianca’s startled gaze, “I’d like to share something with you.”
Bianca folded her arms protectively across her chest and made no response. The move briefly exposed an angry welt peeking out from under the frayed cuff of her dark hoodie.
“I grew up in the foster system,” Nina said. “Never knew my biological family.” She let that sink in before continuing. “I was left in a dumpster when I was a month old.”
Bianca looked her up and down in obvious disbelief.
Nina knew how she would appear to anyone who hadn’t known her as a child. Her crisp police uniform consisted of a gray shirt and navy-blue pants, polished tactical boots, and a ballistic vest that made her look bigger than she was, a far cry from the tattered clothes she had worn at Bianca’s age.
“I wasn’t born a cop,” Nina continued. “Growing up, I bounced from one foster home to another. Sometimes no one would have me, and I would stay in a group home for a while. I’m small, like you, so people took advantage of me. Until I put a stop to it.”
Bianca’s eyes widened. “How?”
“Come with me and I’ll tell you,” Nina said, baiting the hook.
She watched an array of conflicting emotions play across Bianca’s expressive face until finally, with obvious reluctance, she got into the cruiser and sat in silence while Nina took her to the nearest McDonald’s. After ordering burgers and fries for both of them, Nina took up her story.
“When I was sixteen, my foster father offered me to his bookie to pay off his debts,” she said, deliberately blunt.
Bianca gaped. “You mean—”
“That’s exactly what I mean. When I wouldn’t cooperate, they beat me. I have marks, too, only mine are on my back.”
Bianca pulled her sleeves down and tucked her hands completely inside them. “What did you do?”
“I lit the bookie’s beard on fire and got the hell out of there.” Nina popped a fry into her mouth. “Lived on the street for a while, too, but that didn’t end well for me. Which is why I’m not going to stand by and watch you put yourself in danger. Not when I can do something about it.”
She stopped, allowing Bianca to process her words, to grasp that Nina could understand her as no one else could. Sensing the girl’s hesitancy start to break, Nina waited her out.
Finally, Bianca put down her half-eaten burger as her eyes filled with tears. “No one believes me,” she whispered.
Nina said nothing until Bianca’s gaze met hers. “I believe you.”
Three simple words were all it took. Words Bianca had probably never heard from any adult. A single tear slid down Bianca’s hollow cheek as she strained to hold her emotions in check.
Nina leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”
The dam broke. Over the next twenty minutes, Nina listened carefully as Bianca talked. In the end, Bianca agreed to take off her hoodie, allowing Nina to inspect the angry welts up and down her arms.
Nina pointed to the red lines around her wrists. “Flex-cuffs?”
Bianca nodded, then lifted the hem of her frayed blue jeans to show more marks on her shins and calves.
“That’s why I kept taking off,” Bianca said, her voice as thin as her frail body. “But I can’t go back again. They told me if I ran again, they’d kill me and make it look like an accident when I came back.” She swallowed. “I believe them.”
While Bianca finished her meal, Nina contacted her supervisor to request someone from Child Protective Services meet her at the magistrate’s office in downtown Fairfax to help secure warrants against Bianca’s foster parents for felony child abuse.
Three hours later, Nina unlocked the door to her apartment on the top floor of a four-story walk-up in the unofficial Latin corridor of Springfield.
She pushed the door open and turned to Bianca. “It’s not much, but it’ll do for a couple of days until we can find a new foster home for you.”
Bianca wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to move in with another—”
“I’m not going to let you stay anywhere unless I personally check it out.”
The next-door neighbor’s door opened. “What’s going on out here? It’s past midnight.”
Mrs. Gomez stepped out into the hallway in a pink chenille robe and fuzzy slippers. Mrs. G and her husband had emigrated from Chile thirty years earlier. They had raised four children in the apartment and were now alone after the last one had left for college a year earlier.
Nina waved her off. “Go back to bed, Mrs. G. It’s just me.”
Mrs. G squinted at Bianca. “Who is this?”
“This is Bianca Babbage. She’ll be here with me for a bit until we find her a family to stay with.”
Mrs. G drew closer, eyes filled with concern. “Mi’jita, where is your familia?”
Bianca jerked her chin at Nina. “Officer Badass here just locked up the two losers who pretended to take care of me.”
Nina recognized the tactic. Hide the pain under a thick layer of snark. Failing that, feign indifference. Children raised without stable families had many means of coping, and Nina had employed them all. Sometimes, she still did.
“No parents?” Mrs. G looked appalled. “No aunts or uncles? No grandparents?”
Bianca looked down at her shoes.
Nina broke the awkward silence. “Child Protective Services took Bianca from her parents a few years ago. I can’t go into details.”
Mrs. G reached out to Bianca, and Nina almost stepped between them. Her own experiences had made her leery of unsolicited physical contact, and she figured Bianca felt the same way. To her surprise, Bianca allowed Mrs. G to pull her into a gentle hug.
“Come to my apartment tomorrow morning,” Mrs. G said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make you both a nice breakfast.” She smiled. “I’m making pastel de choclo.”
“What’s that?” Bianca asked.
Nina answered, giving Mrs. G a chance to compose herself. “It’s a kind of quiche, but it has beef, chicken, corn, and spices.”
“Beef and chicken?” Bianca looked dubious. “In a quiche?”
“I used to make it for my little ones on the weekends.” Mrs. G sighed. Her gaze traveled up and down Bianca’s slight frame. “You need good food.”
Nina’s eyes met Mrs. G’s. Clearly Bianca needed a lot more than food.
How many times had Mrs. G lamented her empty nest?
Nina’s lips spread into a wide grin as a plan took shape in her mind. She was a protector, but her own dark past had left her unable to provide the warm, nurturing environment Bianca so clearly needed. The kind of home Nina had never experienced.
The two women came to a tacit understanding that night. Nina would keep Bianca safe from harm, and Mrs. G would give her the love Nina couldn’t.
Chapter 2
Present day
Arizona Institute of Technology, Phoenix campus
The crisp March air brushed his skin, raising gooseflesh on his arms as he lifted the night vision binoculars to his eyes. He had watched her earlier that evening, walking arm in arm with that bleached-blond, spray-tanned, muscle-headed moron. Now she was crossing the quad with him.
