Wild High Read online

  Wild High

  Tyson Wild Book Seventeen

  Tripp Ellis

  Copyright © 2020 by Tripp Ellis

  All rights reserved. Worldwide.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents, except for incidental references to public figures, products, or services, are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental, and not intended to refer to any living person or to disparage any company’s products or services. All characters engaging in sexual activity are above the age of consent.

  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, uploaded, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter devised, without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Welcome

  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

  Author’s Note

  Tyson Wild

  Max Mars

  Connect With Me

  Welcome

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  1

  She was the last person I expected to find.

  When Daniels had told me there was trouble back home, I didn't want to know the details. There was nothing I could do while I was on the other side of the country. JD and I were finishing business in Los Angeles. Why send my brain spinning off on a tangent that I could do nothing about? I’d been through hell in the City of Angels, but that seemed like a pleasure cruise compared to what awaited me back on the island.

  When we finally landed in Coconut Key, our first stop was the county morgue. No time to drop our bags at home. No time to settle in and relax after a long flight. We left the glitz and glam of Hollywood behind, and truth be told, I was glad to get home. But not to something like this.

  The morgue was cold and antiseptic. The stainless steel freezers were polished, and the floor didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Brenda, the medical examiner, ran a tight ship. She kept things running on schedule, and cases were processed efficiently. Reports came back in a timely manner. And, unlike a big city, most of the freezers were empty. It was a far cry from what we had just seen out West. LA had a six-month backlog. Bodies were stacked deep, delayed by processing and paperwork.

  The meat lockers against the far wall had three levels. Brenda grabbed the handle and pulled open a freezer door. Wisps of condensation drifted from the locker as cold air mixed. She slid out the telescoping aluminum rack, and the clatter echoed throughout the spooky chamber. The overhead fluorescent lighting cast a sickly glow about the room.

  Atop the stainless steel tray, a body wrapped in a white cloth lay chilled to a perfect 38°. The freezers only slowed the decay of the corpses. They didn’t stop it completely. And no matter how cold and clean the room was kept, death was in the air. The coolers kept the faint traces of decomposing flesh to a minimum. But still, the slight scent seeped into your nostrils and took up residence there, like an unwelcome house guest.

  There was a tag on the toe, identifying the victim. The pale feet looked shriveled, but the toenails were expertly groomed with a French manicure. Brenda pulled the shroud back, exposing the corpse.

  The sight was even more gruesome and grisly than I had anticipated.

  Worst of all, I recognized the woman's mangled face instantly.

  My heart sank, and a heavy sigh escaped my lungs. My body slumped.

  "You know her?" Sheriff Daniels asked, noting my body language. He didn’t mention anything about the fading bruises on my face, which were more of a sallow color now. The City of Angels hadn't been kind to me.

  The sheriff’s face was stern, and his cream cowboy hat hung low on his brow. Daniels was a no-nonsense kind of guy, and he didn’t suffer fools well. Somehow, he managed to tolerate us.

  I gave him a grim nod in answer to his question.

  The body had multiple bruises and lacerations. There were, what appeared to be, several fatal puncture wounds in the woman's thoracic cavity. She'd been stabbed multiple times, probably with a 7-inch blade. As horrendous as it was, that was the least disturbing part.

  To add insult to injury, she'd been decapitated.

  Severed completely.

  Clean and precise.

  That one fact let me know exactly who had done this. It was the trademark of Dalton Lennox. And if that wasn't obvious enough, he had carved his initials into the flesh of her chest.

  The sicko fed off the notoriety. He didn't want anyone else taking credit for one of his kills. He wasted no time getting back into the swing of things, doing what he did best. He craved the hunt, and he was never one to pass up an opportunity.

  He’d escaped during a prisoner transport and had been roaming the streets for a little over a week now. I figured he would have been long gone, but the brazen killer had decided to taunt law enforcement with a brutal slaying right under our noses.

  It was his style.

  A big fuck you to the world.

  “Sierra Peaks,” I said. “She was a contestant in the bikini contest we had last week."

  Daniels gave me an annoyed glance, as if this was all my fault. "How well did you know her?"

  "Enough to know I wanted to get to know her better. I had just met her the day of the contest.”

  “Are we sure Dalton Lennox did this?" Jack Donovan asked. "Could always be a copycat."

  Jack was dressed in his traditional uniform—a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and checkered vans. His long, blonde hair, recently dyed, dangled past his shoulders.

  "It's consistent with his previous MO," Brenda said.

  JD frowned and shook his head in disgust. "Just when I thought things were getting back to normal around here."

  Sheriff Daniels scoffed. "Normal? What's that? I'm beginning to think this kind of thing is normal.”

  The island had been terrorized by the Seaside Stalker for months. Now this. I couldn’t say definitively who the Seaside Stalker was, but since our prime suspect’s untimely demise, there hadn’t been any more killings with the same MO. This was something entirely different, but the end result was the same.

  “What I'm worried about is that the Coconut Ripper is on the loose and has been for weeks. That guy has an insatiable appetite for coeds. How many more of these cases are we going to find?"

  I shrugged, then suggested hopefully, “Maybe he's moved on."

  The sheriff gave me a stern glance, not sharing my optimism.

  "Don't worry. We'll track him down
and put him back behind bars where he belongs,” I said.

  "Why are you still standing here?" Daniels grumbled.

  “We already left," I said.

  2

  We caught a cab to Diver Down. After unloading our bags from the trunk, we brought them to the bar and took a seat. It was early afternoon. Not quite happy hour, but not too early to start drinking. Coconut Key had a leisurely vibe where every day felt like a Saturday afternoon.

  "What's with the long faces? Teagan asked from behind the bar. When she got a closer look at me, her eyes widened. “Oh my God, what happened to your face?”

  “It’s not that bad. You should see the other guy.”

  “Can’t you go anywhere without getting into trouble?”

  I shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  It was Teagan’s first day back since the incident. She seemed to be getting along well. Her usual, bubbly demeanor was back. I hadn't seen her infectious smile in a long time. She had a nice smile, and I was glad to see it.

  The teal-eyed beauty stood behind the bar wearing a bikini top and jean shorts, exposing her toned midriff. The waistline of her shorts covered her small scar. The abdominal wound had kept her from her ab routine for a few weeks, but she didn't look like she'd lost any definition.

  “So, what gives?” she pressed.

  "You don't want to know," I replied.

  She frowned. "That bad?"

  I gave a grim nod.

  “It can't be any worse than…"

  I shot her a look that said: yes, it could.

  She cringed. "I don't think I want to know, do I?"

  Teagan gasped when I told her about Dalton Lennox. "That's terrible.” She sighed, “I’m seriously considering moving to Pineapple Bay."

  "You'd miss us if you left," JD said.

  Teagan frowned. "True. I don't know if I could ever leave you guys." She followed it up with a brilliant smile. "You want to see my scar?"

  JD nodded eagerly.

  She unbuttoned her shorts and pulled the waistline down, revealing a tiny darkened area where the bullet had entered. With a little time, it would be barely noticeable.

  Jack cringed. "You almost got shot in the hootenanny."

  “It's not that low!”

  The scar was just above the line of her bikini bottoms that she wore underneath her shorts.

  "It's hard to tell from this angle," Jack said. "Can you pull your pants down a little farther?"

  Her eyes narrowed at him, and she pulled up her shorts, buttoning them. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

  “I can still look. Besides, we’re not officially together or anything yet.”

  She rolled her eyes, then fingered her scar. “I’m thinking about getting a tattoo to cover it. I'm not really a tattoo kind of girl, but the idea is intriguing."

  "What do you have in mind?" I asked.

  Teagan shrugged, then said whimsically, "I don't know, maybe a pistol. I might get one on either side. Then I'd be gangster."

  I chuckled. Teagan was anything but gangster.

  "What can I get for you fellas?" she asked.

  "You don't know?" JD asked, taunting her.

  Teagan smiled. "Nope. I have no idea. Ever since I got shot, I seem to have lost my psychic ability—and that's perfectly fine by me."

  I lifted a curious eyebrow. "Really?"

  "Yup, and good riddance."

  Whether or not Teagan was actually psychic was up for debate. But she had an uncanny ability to be right more than she was wrong. Whatever the case, she believed that using her abilities led to unwelcome repercussions—and she had the scars to prove it.

  "Have you tried using your abilities since…?" I asked, not wanting to name the incident.

  "Nope."

  "Then how do you know they’re gone?”

  She shrugged. "I'm just not getting any random premonitions. And I'm hoping it stays that way."

  “I feel really bad,” JD said.

  She gave him a curious look. “Why?”

  “It’s all my fault. Do you hate me?”

  Her face crinkled. “No, I don’t hate you. It’s not your fault.”

  “I’m the one who talked you into using your abilities.”

  “And I’m the one who went along with it. I take responsibility for my actions, thank you very much.”

  “Promise you’re not mad?” JD continued.

  “Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said, crisscrossing her hand across her chest. She almost cringed after saying the hope to die part. She’d already come closer than she’d ever wanted to.

  JD exhaled a relieved breath. I think it had been bugging him ever since the incident. “I’ll take a beer.”

  “The same," I added.

  She grabbed two ice-cold longnecks from a tub of ice, spun the bottle opener from her back pocket, and popped off the tops with a hiss. She slid the sweaty bottles across the counter, and I clinked longnecks with JD.

  "To a good time in LA," JD toasted.

  "Speak for yourself," I muttered.

  An entertainment news show came on the flatscreen display behind the bar. The reporter issued a breaking news alert. “Newcomer Scarlett Nicole has been cast as the lead in the upcoming Bree Taylor project that will chronicle the last days of the slain star's life.”

  Jack beamed with pride at the mention of his daughter.

  “Congratulations, JD!” Teagan said. “That’s fantastic! Scarlett must be so excited.”

  “She is.”

  It couldn’t have been more than a minute before Jack’s phone blew up with texts, and finally a call. Jack swiped the screen with a grin.

  Scarlett’s voice screeched through the tiny speaker. “Did you see? Entertainment News Network just broke the story.”

  “We saw it,” JD said.

  “It’s crazy. I’m getting like a million texts. I guess this is all really happening. Anyway, gotta go. Love you.”

  She hung up before JD could reply. I could tell he was just happy to get a phone call from Scarlett. That was a rare occurrence, and even rarer still to hear the L-word from her. Hell, she only called him Dad in extreme circumstances—otherwise, it was Jack.

  JD slipped the phone back into his pocket, but the grin didn’t fade. “That girl is going places!”

  “Without a doubt,” I said. I just hoped all the fame and media attention wouldn’t take her off course. She’d been keeping her nose clean and staying out of trouble, but LA was the kind of town where trouble would often come looking for you.

  3

  “Doesn’t that make you nervous?” Teagan asked.

  Jack gave her a quizzical look.

  “You always hear these horror stories about young celebrities not able to handle the fame, then they end up dead from an overdose.”

  Teagan was unaware of Scarlett’s previous history with substance abuse.

  JD squirmed.

  “What, did I say something wrong?” Teagan asked as the air grew uncomfortable.

  “Scarlett has a good head on her shoulders,” JD assured. “I’m sure she’ll make good decisions.”

  He tried to make the statement with conviction, but I could tell those concerns were taking up space in his mind. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about the same thing. It had been on my mind ever since Scarlett first moved to Los Angeles, but she’d been handling the temptations well so far. But she was about to enter a whole new crowd. An up-and-coming starlet was often denied nothing in LA.

  Teagan changed the subject to break the awkward silence that ensued. “So, tell me about this non-girlfriend of yours.”

  “Well, that status is going to change soon if I have anything to say about it,” Jack said.

  "Sloan came out to LA to visit Jack and see his show," I said.

  Teagan lifted an impressed eyebrow. "Sounds serious.”

  “Could be," Jack said with a grin.

  "She even spent the night in his bedroom," I added. "But Jack’s keeping silent a
bout the activities that went on, or lack thereof."

  He scowled at me playfully. "I'll have you know that I was a perfect gentleman."

  Teagan's jaw dropped.

  JD tried to hide a smirk. "But there was a lot of heavy petting."

  "Is this the longest you've ever dated a girl without sleeping with her?" Teagan asked.

  Jack pondered the thought for a long moment, recounting all of his previous conquests. "As far as I can remember."

  "You must really like her," Teagan said.

  "I do. She’s special.”

  "She must be if she can tame your heart."

  “Ain’t nobody tamed nothing. I'll always be a little wild."

  Teagan rolled her eyes again.

  “Speaking of which, I need to get home and get cleaned up,” JD said. “Hot date tonight.”

  Jack finished his beer, called a cab, then pulled his bags to the parking lot.

  “He’s got a serious case of one-itis,” Teagan said, watching JD hop into a cab and drive away.

  “He certainly does.”

  “What if they finally hook up and it doesn’t work? Sexual chemistry is an issue.“

  “I’m sure JD will make it work.“

  “I’m just saying, you better make sure you like bumping uglies with the other person before investing too much.”

  “Well, if you want to do a compatibility check, just let me know,” I said with a sly grin.