Ice Box Murders Novels & Stories

The first photo showed the cold ice hockey rink. Oliver's father lay dead on the white ice. Right next to his body was a small, empty medical syringe. It was the murder weapon. The second photo showed a dark road. A luxury car was totally crushed against a large, dark tree. It was the exact car crash that killed Isabella. His own mother. The detective leaned forward. His voice was very quiet.

ISABELLA My room sparkles like a gilded cage. Silk and gold everywhere. Modern furniture that looks brand new, and a bed that could fit three of me. This one room is twice the size of Dad's apartment. But my new prison isn't why I couldn't sleep last night, or why once I finally did, I woke up trembling. That'shisfault. Viktor Morelli. The brutal mob boss who runs New York City. Everyone knows who he is. They call him The Ice Man because he's so cold. And what did The Ice Man try to do last night?

SKY’S POV Reyes called two days later with a name, though he delivered it carefully, like he wasn’t fully sure yet what to do with it. “Marty,” he said. “Team transportation coordinator. Been with the organization almost as long as I have.” “What about him?” “He requested access to the road trip scheduling system last week. Not unusual on its own — it’s literally his job. What’s unusual is the specific date range he pulled. Matches almost exactly with the hotel stay from last spring. The one where someone photographed you in the hallway.”