THE MURDER OF INNOCENCE​
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The person who holds the secrets possesses the keys to the Kingdom. ​
It's late August 2023. Another teenage girl has been murdered, and her body has been pulled from Chesapeake Bay. But that is no surprise to Trace Williams, an undercover Maryland State Police Detective. Trace has a gift, or maybe a curse, that Fate has bestowed upon him. At times, and without his control, his consciousness enters the body of a person who is in mortal peril, as was the case with this girl. Three other girls being held, and their fate is now in his hands.
Trace learns from a rogue NSA agent who is searching for his abducted niece that he has touched the tip of an international sex trafficking ring. Young girls are taken from their homes in Ukraine by an organization led by a Russian FSB Officer and sold to a billionaire couple outside Washington DC. The couple uses the girls to compromise weak politicians in our nations capital so influence can be leveraged over our government.
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The Murder of Innocence
Chapter 1
Wednesday, Aug. 23, 2023
The room was pitch black, and Trace lay on his back on a wet floor. His hands were restrained beneath him, and his feet were bound as well. A weak, muted cry for help escaped his taped mouth. He rolled onto his side and sweat trickled over his brow and stung his eyes. The stench of urine filled the room.
He tried to calm himself, but his heart was about to burst through his chest. This was not real. Well, it was real for someone, but not for him. His consciousness had been projected into another person’s body. It had happened before, and, unfortunately, the person was probably going to die. It was important for the detective to gather as much information as possible in the time he had been given.
A steady thrum vibrated beneath the floor and traveled through his body. He was rocked back and forth from the roll of the sea. He was on a boat, and the vibrations were from large diesel engines.
Door hinges squeaked, and his eyes squinted against the unexpected brightness of the overhead lights. Across from him, an unconscious girl in her mid-teens lay bound on the floor. Tangled, short brown hair obscured part of her bruised face, and dried, crusty blood filled one side of her swollen and crooked nose. Gray duct tape covered her mouth, and words in an unfamiliar language were emblazoned across her bloodstained shirt. The denim cutoffs were simple and nondescript, and her scraped knees were scabbed over. Another person on the floor behind her was obscured from his view, but he suspected the individual was also a teenage girl.
He looked down at his own bare feet and he was in the body of a young girl as well.
A man said, “I told you one of the bitches was awake.”
The man had a southern accent, maybe Alabama.
Trace turned his head in that direction. A bald white man in a sleeveless shirt stood in front of a door. He was big and muscled, and a skull and crossbones tattoo covered one shoulder.
A man he could not see said, “I’m going to juice her again. I wanna keep all the stinking bitches quiet till we get there.” He had a nasally squeak to his voice, and his thick accent, possibly Russian, was hard to understand.
The bald man said, “Barry, she’s had a ton of that shit already. You’re going to kill another one. The boss ain’t gonna be happy.”
Barry said, “Not my problem.”
The bald man said, “It could be your problem real fast.”
A cold hand snaked out and grabbed Trace beneath his chin and he let out a muffled scream. Thin fingers squeezed his throat and held his head still. A needle jabbed into the side of his neck, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Trace tried to quell his panic. This was not real…but it was real for some young girl.
Vaguely, he heard the bald guy say, “He’s not going to be happy if she dies.”
The voices faded away, and the pounding in his chest slowed. He became dizzy, and a sharp pain shot through his chest––.