Susan Sleeman - Dead Wrong

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A KILLER’S CLOSING IN...

When her client and old college friend is murdered, P.I. Kat Justice knows the killer will come for her next. Her survival depends on finding her unknown enemy first...and working with homicide detective Mitch Elliot, her onetime crush. It’ll take all her professional skills to ignore the sparks between them, but Kat can’t allow the handsome cop to get close. She’s seen too many people she loves die, so she vows just to do her job without getting emotionally involved. Yet keeping her distance may not be the best way to protect her heart—or their lives.

“I want to be part of the investigation.”

Mitch should’ve known this was coming. “You know I can’t do that, Kat. You’re a civilian now and the closest thing we have to a witness.”

“No one needs to know I’m helping.”

“I can’t let you help, Kat.”

“What if you were me?” she asked, her eyes going wide. “What would you want?”

“Wouldn’t matter what I wanted, it’s what I’d make sure happened.”

“Exactly. You’d make sure you were included in the investigation. I’m just trying to do the same thing.” She put a hand on his arm and the warmth of her touch melted his resolve.

Having her by his side would be a good thing, right? She wouldn’t let her family surround and protect her from this killer, but if she worked with him, he’d be able to keep an eye on her. Problem was he wanted to keep both eyes on her, and not just to be sure she was okay.

About the Author

SUSAN SLEEMANgrew up in a small Wisconsin town where she spent her summers reading Nancy Drew and developing a love of mystery and suspense books. Today she channels this enthusiasm into hosting the popular internet website TheSuspenseZone.comand writing romantic-suspense and mystery novels.

Much to her husband’s chagrin, Susan loves to look at everyday situations and turn them into murder-and-mayhem scenarios for future novels. If you’ve met Susan, she has probably figured out a plausible way to kill you and get away with it.

Susan currently lives in Florida, but has had the pleasure of living in nine states. Her husband is a church music director and they have two beautiful daughters, a very special son-in-law and an adorable grandson. To learn more about Susan, please visit www.SusanSleeman.com.

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Can any one of you by worrying

add a single hour to your life?

—Matthew 6:27

Thanks to

My family: my ever patient and understanding husband, Mark, my daughter Emma

for all the help with editing and Erin

for your graphic design expertise.

My editor, Tina James. Thank you for

continuing to have faith in my writing.

The very generous Ron Norris—retired

police officer with the LaVerne Police Department. Thank you, Ron, for being there for technical support on police procedures whenever I need you. Any errors in or liberties taken with the technical details Ron so patiently provides are all my doing.

And most importantly, thank you God for not turning Your back on me when I forget to look to You first and worry like the characters in this book.

Contents

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

EPILOGUE

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

TEASER CHAPTER

ONE

Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

Kat Justice flipped the light switch again. Once. Twice. Three times. Click, click, click.

Nothing.

She held her breath and listened. No hum from the refrigerator on the other side of the wall, no bubbling of the aquarium. She couldn’t even hear the heater that should be running on this unusually cold Oregon day. Just silence, pulsing in the dark.

Someone had cut the power to Nancy’s house. Were they still here, hiding in the murky shadows? Should she continue going forward or back out of the house?

A fresh wave of concern sent a shiver down her back.

“Easy, Kat,” she whispered as she often had when she’d served on the Portland police force. But calming her nerves wasn’t so easy anymore. Not since she’d left the force to work as a private investigator in the family agency. Now she rarely faced danger.

But this new case was different. A man had followed her friend Nancy home. Nancy feared it had to do with her brother Nathan’s recent death. She believed he’d been murdered.

Kat had told Nancy to call 911, but the police weren’t here. Had Nancy been unable to make the call? After finding the house dark, Kat phoned 911 herself, but she couldn’t stand outside and wait for them to rescue Nancy. She had to protect her friend at all costs.

Gun in hand, she slowly set off, putting one foot in front of the other and hugging the dining room wall to make herself less of a target. Her heart thumped wildly as she felt her way to the kitchen doorway.

“Nancy?” she whispered.

No response. She took another step, sliding her foot along the floor. It thudded into something soft yet solid. She knelt down and felt along the floor. A leg. A jean-clad female leg.

Her breath hitched in her lungs as she moved toward the spicy scent of her friend’s signature perfume.

“Nancy?” she whispered again, fear ripping open her heart.

She located her friend’s neck and checked her pulse.

None.

For a moment she could only sit in horror. Nancy was dead. Her old college friend, the woman she’d just reconnected with after seven years, was gone. Kat had failed her.

No, God, no. Not this. Not Nancy.

A sound drifted through the darkness. The barest of sounds like a whisper. Kat held her breath and listened. Soft footfalls. One then another, moving on carpet in the next room. Step after slow step. Heading her way.

He’s still here.

Hands trembling, she jerked back against the wall.

Think, Kat. Think.

She couldn’t help Nancy now. She needed to retreat to safety and then apprehend the killer if she could do so safely.

She searched the shadows, straining her eyes. Darkness and more darkness, split only with a slice of light from the open doorway. She heard the sound again. Slow yet stealthy. He was closer now. She had to move. If she sat here, she’d die.

She stayed low, crossed the room and followed the wall retracing her steps toward the door. She glanced around the corner.

A hulking male stood in a shadow cast from a streetlight. Dressed all in black with a ski mask covering his face, he closed the door behind his back, plunging them into complete darkness.