Storm Season (18 page)

When she’d hesitated, that split second when she decided she couldn’t kill, not again, something like realization had dawned in Angelie’s eyes. She had recognized that Taylor would not fire again.

That knowing smile would haunt Taylor’s dreams.

A choice. Right or wrong, Taylor had let her get away.

She slumped against the stone as the deputies reached her, Sheriff Evans at their head.

“Where is she, where is she?”

“She jumped.”

Evans looked slightly relieved, holstered his weapon.

“Then she’s dead. That’s a fifty-foot fall. We’ll find her body on the beach.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, and he looked at her queerly.

“Of course we will. What the hell were you doing, out here chasing her down alone? I thought I told you to stand down.”

Taylor turned to face him, the wind whipping her hair around her face.

“I was doing my job.”

And the sun broke through the clouds.

London, England

0300 Hours

I STAND OVER HIS BED. He sleeps with one arm tossed over his head. I recognize the position; my father, his brother, also slept in this way, careless, with abandon.

He is quiet, no snoring, just deep, rhythmic breaths.

I want him to see. I want him to know. I rub my shoulder, warding off the pain from the ghost of a bullet that lodged against my scapula, courtesy of the blonde ice queen. I’ll never forget, and she knew that would be the case. But I will leave her alone. I have learned a hard truth in the past few months.

Not all scores are meant to be settled.

But some, some beg for closure.

I slide his covers down with the end of my weapon, and lean close, so I can whisper in his ear.

“Oncle Pierre. Time to wake up.”

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Erica Spindler is the New York Times and International Chart bestselling author of 30 novels and two eNovellas. Published in 25 countries, her work has been lauded as "terrific twisted tales" "white knuckle rides" and "must-reads for suspense fans."

A Romance Writers of America Honor Roll member, she received a Kiss of Death Award for her novel
FORBIDDEN FRUIT
, won the prestigious Daphne du Maurier Award for excellence for her novel BONE COLD and was a four-time RITA® Award finalist. In 1999, Publishers Weekly awarded the audio version of her novel SHOCKING PINK a Listen-Up Award, naming it one of the best audio mystery books of 1998.

Erica’s new novel,
JUSTICE FOR SARA
, will hit bookstore shelves August 6, 2013.

Erica lives just outside of New Orleans with her husband and two sons. Become a fan of Erica's at her website: 
EricaSpindler.com
or follow her on Facebook at
Facebook/EricaSpindler.

*indicates a Stacy Killian/Malone Series

2013 DON’T LOOK BACK* 

2011 WATCH ME DIE*

2007 LAST KNOWN VICTIM*

2005 KILLER TAKES ALL*

2004 SEE JANE DIE* (re-released 2009)

2001 BONE COLD* (re-released 2010)

Stand Alones Novels:

2013 JUSTICE FOR SARA (August 2013)

2010 BLOODVINES

2009 BREAKNECK

2006 COPYCAT

2003 IN SILENCE (re-released 2009)

2002 DEAD RUN (re-released 2011)

2000 ALL FALL DOWN

1999 CAUSE FOR ALARM

1998 SHOCKING PINK

1997 FORTUNE

1996 FORBIDDEN FRUIT

1995 RED (re-released 2008)

eNovellas:

2011 Slices of Night

2012 Storm Season

"Filled with more twisted, dark paths than an ancient cemetery, WATCH ME DIE is a thriller guaranteed to chill your blood and set your teeth on edge." ~
Lisa Jackson, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author on WATCH ME DIE

"Get ready to stay up all night...The latest Erica Spindler has arrived and it's time for another pulse-pounding, page-turning, absolutely can't-put-it-down, roller-coaster ride of a read!" ~
Lisa Gardner, New York Times Bestselling Author of LIVE TO TELL, on BLOOD VINES

"Filled with well-developed, multidimensional characters, Spindler's latest boasts fast-paced action and emotional tension...the intricately woven plot makes this novel a sure winner for readers who like to keep guessing all the way to the end." ~
Romantic Times on BREAKNECK

Katherine McCall stood at the broken front gate and stared at the words that had been spray painted in black across the yellow, clapboard siding. Simple. Ugly. A warning.

We know u did it.

No surprise there.
Kat shifted her gaze. The once sunny yellow had turned forlorn. The white trim was peeling, the gardens overgrown and overrun by weeds. She pictured the gingerbread cottage as it had been the last time she’d seen it, ten years ago. White picket fence, gardenias in bloom, their fragrance potent in the June sun.

Her sister Sara’s cottage. Her first home, her pride and joy.

As it had turned out, the only home Sara would ever own.

Regret and grief washed over Kat, as piercing as a fresh wound. If she hadn’t been such a selfish little shit back then, maybe Sara would be alive today. Maybe her murderer wouldn’t have had the opportunity.

Kat reined in her thoughts, the regret. She couldn’t change the past, no matter how hard she fought accepting it, no matter how far or fast she ran from it.

Being back in Liberty was an acknowledgement of that.

Kat unlatched the gate and stepped through. She’d thought she would never return. She had promised herself she wouldn’t.

Yet, here she was. The scene of the crime. The place her life had come to a bloody, screeching halt.

She started up the walkway, heartbeat quickening. Breath coming fast and thin. Kat forced herself to keep moving, to put one foot in front of the other. She reached the porch steps. Three of them, though it could have been a hundred by the way she dreaded climbing them.

She did anyway. Crossed to the front door. With unsteady hands, she fit the key into the lock, turned it and stepped into the foyer.

Her gaze went to the spot where she’d found Sara. In a crumpled heap, blood pooled around her body.

Kat stared at the floor, unable to tear her gaze away. The blood had subtly stained the honey-colored wood, creating a faint but permanent shadow.

Or was that her imagination?

The doorbell sounded.

Startled, she jumped, then hand to her chest, peeked out the sidelight. A man. Dark hair. Good looking. Holding up a badge.

The sight of it knocked the breath out of her.

“Miss Katherine, I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me.”

“Ms. McCall? Sergeant Luke Tanner. Liberty P.D.”

Kat gazed at him, suddenly seeing the resemblance. Now, there was a name she had never wanted to hear again. “Any relationship to Chief Stephen Tanner?”

“His son.”

“Perfect.” The sarcasm slipped past her lips before she could stop it. “Sorry, your dad and I have some uncomfortable history together.”

“Funny, he and I do as well.”

She surprised herself and smiled. “How can I help you, Sergeant Tanner?”

He motioned to the graffiti across the front of the house. “I heard you’d had some trouble already, thought I’d stop by and check it out. Probably just kids, but I want you to know we’ll be keeping a close eye on the house.”

“I appreciate that, Sergeant Tanner.”

He stopped when he reached the stairs and turned back to her. “I don’t know why you came back to Liberty, Ms. McCall, but little towns have long memories. People don’t forget. You’d be wise to keep that in mind.”

She watched him drive off. How could she not? She had the longest memory of them all.

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