PRAISE FOR MARY BURTON
THE SHARK
“This romantic thriller is tense, sexy, and pleasingly complex.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Precise storytelling complete with strong conflict and heightened tension are the highlights of Burton’s latest. With a tough, vulnerable heroine in Riley at the story’s center, Burton’s novel is a well-crafted, suspenseful mystery with a ruthless villain who would put any reader on edge. A thrilling read.”
—RT Book Reviews, four stars
BEFORE SHE DIES
“Will keep readers sleeping with the lights on.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
MERCILESS
“Burton keeps getting better!”
—RT Book Reviews
YOU’RE NOT SAFE
“Burton once again demonstrates her romantic suspense chops with this taut novel. Burton plays cat and mouse with the reader through a tight plot, credible suspects, and romantic spice keeping it real.”
—Publishers Weekly
BE AFRAID
“Mary Burton [is] the modern-day queen of romantic suspense.”
—Bookreporter.com
ALSO BY MARY BURTON
Never Look Back
I See You
Hide and Seek
Cut and Run
Her Last Word
The Last Move
The Forgotten Files
The Shark
The Dollmaker
The Hangman
Morgans of Nashville
Cover Your Eyes
Be Afraid
I’ll Never Let You Go
Vulnerable
Texas Rangers
The Seventh Victim
No Escape
You’re Not Safe
Alexandria Series
Senseless
Merciless
Before She Dies
Richmond Series
I’m Watching You
Dead Ringer
Dying Scream
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.
Text copyright © 2020 by Mary Burton
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 Montlake, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542021289
ISBN-10: 1542021286
Cover design by Caroline Teagle Johnson
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
Missoula, Montana
Thursday, May 13, 2010
1:00 a.m.
Ten Years Ago
The college-campus bar was packed with students celebrating the end of another school year. All eyes were on the small stage, now flashing with blue and white spotlights as a singer gripped the mike and hit the high notes on the song’s last chorus. Everyone was mesmerized, including Joan and Ann, who were standing near the bar.
He had been watching the two women for weeks. He knew where they lived, where they hid the spare key to their house, their class schedules, and even what they ate for breakfast. He had been in their house several times, lain on their beds, inhaled the scent of their perfume from their clothes, and dreamed about this night. Over the course of the last few weeks, the rhythm of their lives had become second nature to him.
Now, as Joan and Ann moved seductively to the music’s beat, he removed a small vial from his jeans pocket and moved closer to the bar. When the bartender turned to fill a drink order, he quickly squeezed several drops of a sedative into each woman’s drink. The drugs would not knock either woman out immediately, but the dosage would be enough to coax each back across campus to the safety of their home.
As he melted back into the crowd and the song ended, Joan and Ann turned back to the bar and gulped from their beer mugs. Their bodies glistened with sweat, and they were laughing. They were so confident and sure of their bright futures.
He had only five minutes to wait before Ann set down her drink. She yawned, said something to Joan, who shook her head as if she wanted to stay. He thought for a moment that Ann might leave alone. Having only Ann at the house was not part of the plan. For it all to work, Joan needed to be in the house as well. Tension rippled through him as he thought about all his plans crumbling. Maybe he should have put more drops in their drinks.
And then, minutes later, Ann spoke to Joan again, and the two stepped out into the cool night air. He followed, careful to keep a safe distance.
“I just need a minute,” Ann said as she walked toward the middle of the parking lot. “I’m dizzy.”
“I’m a little tired myself,” Joan said, yawning.
“Would we be wimps if we called it a night?” Ann said.
“No. We’ll both head home.” Joan’s words sounded a little slurred.
Ann blinked and gently patted her own cheeks with her hands. “But you’ve been looking forward to hearing this band.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Joan said. “And you look dead on your feet.”
They walked the three blocks to their small one-story house, located at the edge of the campus. He followed, careful to remain in the shadows. Several times, they paused, drew in breaths as if to clear their heads, and then continued walking.
When they arrived home, Joan fished out the key from under the front doorstep mat and pushed it into the lock. “I didn’t think I was that drunk. But I feel like I’ve been kicked by a mule.”
Ann leaned against the house. “We’re tired is all. We’ve been burning the candle at both ends for weeks.”
Joan opened the door and clicked on the light. Ann said something he could not hear, and they both giggled as they moved into the living room and plopped onto the couch by the bay window.
Anticipation burned in him as he moved toward his truck, parked across the street. He was anxious to get this party started but knew patience and the details mattered. He pushed back a surge of desire.
“Focus,” he whispered. “Stick to the plan.”
Through the window, he watched Joan rise and move toward the kitchen. She tripped, righted herself, and then opened the refrigerator door. While she stared, her body swayed, as if standing up straight required too much concentration and effort. Finally, empty-handed, she closed the door and moved past
