Ryshia Kennie - Suspect Witness

He looked down and her eyes met his.

“There’s no time to hesitate.”

She pulled her hand free.

“Who are you?”

“No time. I’m here to get you out.”

“How do I know that?”

“Look,” he gritted out. “There’s no time to offer proof. You have two choices. Trust me or…” He nodded his head backward, where it was obvious only death waited.

She stood there almost rocking on her heels. He could see the indecision, the unwillingness to trust any further, and he didn’t blame her.

“I’m saying this only once more before I throw you over my shoulder. We can do it your way or we can do it mine.”

Suspect Witness

Ryshia Kennie

www.millsandboon.co.uk

RYSHIA KENNIEhas received a writing award from the City of Regina, Saskatchewan, and also been a semifinalist in the Kindle Book Awards. She finds that there’s never a lack of places to set an edge-of-the-seat suspense, as prairie winters find her dreaming of warmer places for heart-stopping stories. They are places where deadly villains threaten intrepid heroes and heroines who battle for their right to live or even to love. For more, visit www.ryshiakennie.com.

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For Ken—who led the journey through Malaysia’s Gunung Mulu caves with the feeble light of a travel flashlight.

Our hiking boots were ankle-deep in bat guano and each step was treacherous. I clutched the back of his shirt as I couldn’t always see in the fleeting light.

But the vast beauty of the cave was worth a ton of bat guano.

Contents

Cover

Introduction He looked down and her eyes met his. “There’s no time to hesitate.” She pulled her hand free. “Who are you?” “No time. I’m here to get you out.” “How do I know that?” “Look,” he gritted out. “There’s no time to offer proof. You have two choices. Trust me or…” He nodded his head backward, where it was obvious only death waited. She stood there almost rocking on her heels. He could see the indecision, the unwillingness to trust any further, and he didn’t blame her. “I’m saying this only once more before I throw you over my shoulder. We can do it your way or we can do it mine.”

Title Page Suspect Witness Ryshia Kennie www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author RYSHIA KENNIE has received a writing award from the City of Regina, Saskatchewan, and also been a semifinalist in the Kindle Book Awards. She finds that there’s never a lack of places to set an edge-of-the-seat suspense, as prairie winters find her dreaming of warmer places for heart-stopping stories. They are places where deadly villains threaten intrepid heroes and heroines who battle for their right to live or even to love. For more, visit www.ryshiakennie.com .

Dedication For Ken—who led the journey through Malaysia’s Gunung Mulu caves with the feeble light of a travel flashlight. Our hiking boots were ankle-deep in bat guano and each step was treacherous. I clutched the back of his shirt as I couldn’t always see in the fleeting light. But the vast beauty of the cave was worth a ton of bat guano.

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Singapore—Saturday, October 10

She had been pretty once.

Now her skin gleamed in the glow of the fluorescent lights. A strand of auburn hair fell across a well-shaped brow and her lips held a glimmering trace of sherbet lip gloss.

“It’s a shame, really,” the coroner said as his sun-bronzed hand held the edge of the stark white sheet. “Life was just getting started. Twenty-five or there about.” He shook his head. “I try to remember that every time I step out of the house. Enjoy the moment. You just never know. And in this job you’re reminded of mortality every day.” A strand of salt-and-pepper hair drifted across his forehead. “I try not to think about it or it would drive me crazy.”

“True,” Josh Sedovich said. “Any idea how she died?”

The coroner nodded. “She was hit by a blunt object to the back of the head. Surprising, I always thought Singapore so civilized until I moved here and took this job. Unfortunately, it’s turned out no better than anywhere else.”

“Why does it always end like this? On a temporary visa to see the world and, just like that, it’s over.” Josh ran his hand along the side of his neck. “It’s damn hot in here.”

“No air-conditioning,” the coroner said. “Is she who you’re looking for?”

“No. Fortunately not.” He fisted his right hand. Not so fortunately for the unknown young woman on the coroner’s slab.

Probable murder, potential arson and an unknown assassin. He’d been on the trail of this case for the past three weeks, and now one person was dead and still, miraculously, the witness lived. Not only lived but thrived over days that had turned into weeks and weeks into months. It wouldn’t have happened had the FBI called him in sooner.

“Interesting that Victor has given you a hall pass. Maybe the fact that she’s American, too. But more than likely not.” The coroner looked at Josh with mild interest. “Private investigator...” He frowned. “I thought you would have to be a little more than that. CIA maybe. Or maybe I just watch too much television.”

Josh slipped his hand into his pocket and looked away before meeting the coroner’s gaze. “American? How do you know that?”

“Assumption on my part, but look at this.” He pulled down the sheet, exposing the cadaver’s torso, and pointed at her belly button. A steel stud pierced her navel; the steel was offset only by the red, white and blue of the American flag.

“Maybe,” Josh said doubtfully. “But she might be a wannabe, too.”

“Yeah, I know. Or her boyfriend was or, or... Still comes down to an unidentified body.”

He straightened, turning to face Josh. “’Course, tattoos, earrings...” He trailed off, looking pointedly at the metal ace of spades in Josh’s left ear. “Are rather a dime a dozen.” He shook his head. “Don’t understand it much. Must be the generation gap.” An overhead fan kicked on. “What’s this girl done? Any ideas on why someone murdered her?”

“Nothing that I know of.” Josh flexed his fingers as he looked at the sad, lifeless figure. He reached over and took the corner of the sheet and pulled it up over her breasts. “Wrong place. Wrong time.”

“Seems a little more than wrong place and time. Someone torched her apartment, but not before killing her.” The coroner coughed into his gloved hand. “Heard that the original lease is in a different name, sublet. Can’t get hold of the girl who signed the lease to tell us who she sublet to. Traveling Europe or some such idiocy.”