In anticipation of Tuesday’s release of DEAD HEAT, the eighth Lucy Kincaid thriller, I thought you would enjoy a free read! Originally published two years ago in LOVE IS MURDER, an anthology of romantic suspense edited by Sandra Brown for the International Thriller Writers, “Vacation Interrupted” is a Lucy/Sean short story that takes place between SILENCED and STALKED. As fans of this series know, Lucy and Sean can’t relax anywhere without getting wrapped up in a mystery …
A Lucy Kincaid/Sean Rogan Story
“No dead bodies, no psychopaths, no one trying to kill us.” Sean Rogan leaned back on the blanket spread out on the semi-secluded beach. “Just you and me, Princess.” He took her hand and closed his eyes.
In five days, Lucy would to report at Quantico to start her twenty-week FBI training. She’d suggested a few weeks ago that she and Sean find a couple days to go away—alone. They’d tried twice since they first started seeing each other six months ago, but each time their vacation plans were ruined by criminal activity. Because they were both so busy—Lucy working at the regional FBI office and Sean at his security company, RCK East—Lucy didn’t think they’d have the opportunity.
On Tuesday morning, Sean announced he’d finished his assignment early and asked if she wanted to go to the beach. When Lucy said yes, she hadn’t expected to leave an hour later in Sean’s plane, landing before noon at a small executive airport on Cape Cod in Massachusetts.
Though early August was the height of the tourist season, Sean finagled a wonderful room at a bed & breakfast with a view of the bay. Lucy didn’t want to ask how—her boyfriend relied heavily on his charm to get him in and out of tricky situations. If that failed, he used his brains or brawn.
Lucy rarely relaxed, and didn’t particularly enjoy sunbathing—ironic considering she had earned many blue ribbons and trophies swimming in high school and for Georgetown University—but she found herself half-asleep under the large umbrella Sean had pitched, the soothing lap of waves rolling up the shore leeching the tension from her muscles.
A scream shattered her peaceful afternoon. Lucy sat up quickly; Sean was already on his feet scanning the horizon. It had come from a young woman standing on the shoreline. “Someone help him!”
The blonde was looking out into the ocean, pointing to a man flailing in the waves about a hundred fifty yards out. Sean was already running and Lucy followed, searching for a lifeguard tower. The only one she spotted was so far away she couldn’t see the person manning the booth.
Lucy had spent her high school summers working as a lifeguard in San Diego, and while she didn’t have a tube or float, she spotted a boogie board near the shoreline. She didn’t know or care who it belonged to, but strapped the board’s leash around her ankle and ran into the ocean. The salt water was cold and itchy against her warm, dry skin. “Sean—get the lifeguard!” she ordered.
She pictured where she last saw the man, then swam toward that spot with long, confident strides. The shore was shallow, but fifty yards out it dropped steeply and the water turned choppy.
Every few seconds Lucy stopped briefly to ensure she was still headed toward the troubled swimmer. Her 100-yard record in competition was 48:10, but she was fighting the current and waves, and it took three times that long.
When she thought she was close to the man, she stopped and treaded water. She didn’t see anyone. Had she passed him? The waves were high enough to thwart her view, so she rode them up and down, looking 360 degrees.
Something brushed by her ankle. She dove, fearing the victim was underwater and unconscious, but didn’t find anything. She surfaced, dove again, deeper and swimming a wider perimeter.
Lucy breached the surface, fearing she was too late. As she began to lose hope, she spotted the man only a few feet away, his face twisted with pain and fear as he slipped under again.
She dove at an angle, kicking with all her strength, making a straight line to where she predicted he’d be if sinking. Her hands made contact with flesh, and she grabbed what she could—his bicep, it turned out—and kicked toward the surface, pulling the added weight with her.
She gasped for air when she broke through the surface. She immediately turned the man to his back because it was easier to help him float if he was lying as flat as possible. He wasn’t unconscious, but definitely in distress and noticeably exhausted. He coughed and pushed at her, his eyes unfocused.
“I’m here to help,” she said.
He pushed her down, but Lucy saw it coming. She dunked below the surface so he couldn’t hold her down, and then popped up a couple feet away.
Disoriented, he must be on drugs. He tried to swim, but a wave hit him in the face, almost pushing him under. She grabbed him. “I’m a lifeguard, calm down!”
Lucy put the boogie board under his body to help him stay afloat. “Remain calm,” she repeated. She glanced toward the shore and saw the lifeguard swimming swiftly toward her. “Help’s coming.”
“Someone,” he gasped. “Someone here.” He coughed up water.
“Calm down or you’ll hyperventilate. Slow, deep breaths.”
“Kill,” he breathed heavily. “Me.”
Someone tried to kill him? She scanned the area, but being this far out diminished visibility. The only other swimmers were much closer to the shore, where it was only a few feet deep.
The lifeguard approached on a rescue board. He rolled off, barely glanced at Lucy, his attention focused on the near-drowning victim. “What’s your name?” he asked the victim.
“I’m Andrew. I’ll get you back to shore.” He glanced at Lucy. “You okay?”
“I’m good.” She rested a minute while Andrew secured Ted to the rescue board. When he was ready, the lifeguard pulled the board with Ted and she followed at a steady pace.
Was Ted delirious or had someone really tried to kill him?
By the time she got back to the shore, Andrew was assessing Ted’s injuries. An EMT unit was coming down the beach.
“Thank you, thank you,” the blonde repeated. “What happened?”
The lifeguard said, “Caught in a riptide is my guess.” Lucy didn’t think so, but before she could question Ted or the lifeguard, the EMT arrived.
Sean pulled Lucy to him and hugged her tightly. His body felt hot against her cold skin. She held on, shaking from the adrenalin spike and cold water, grateful for someone to lean on.
He looked down at her, his dark blue eyes full of both worry and pride. He pushed her long, dark hair out of her face. “You really don’t know how to relax, do you?” He kissed her repeatedly. “Let’s get you in a hot shower.”
“I need it.”
He smiled at her, his dimple practically winking. “Me, too.”
While Sean and Lucy napped after sharing a long shower, the phone rang. Wendy Potter, Ted’s fiancée, insisted on taking them to drinks as a thank you. “Why’d you give her our number?” Sean moaned. Sean tried to talk Lucy out of agreeing, but Lucy hadn’t been able to get Ted’s odd comment out of her mind.
Three hours later, just after sunset, they walked into a popular club. “One hour, tops,” Lucy assured Sean as they spotted the other couple.
“I’m holding you to that.” Sean glanced at his watch.
Lucy smiled as they sat down. “You look much better than you did earlier,” she said to Ted. He was of average height and build, with a warm manner and attractive smile, even though he appeared both tired and apprehensive. Lucy’s mother would classify Wendy as “cute as a button”—blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and petite. She, too, looked worried.
“We don’t know how to thank you,” Wendy said.
“I’m just glad I could help.”
“What happened out there?” Sean asked. “The lifeguard said you were caught in a riptide?”
Ted shook his head. “No, and the risk of riptides was low today. I checked before I went out.”
“You were out pretty far,” Lucy said.
He looked sheepish. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’ll admit. Then I began to feel lightheaded and my heart was racing. I felt high, but I haven’t done drugs since college. Then—” he glanced at Wendy.
She said, “It’s not like she wouldn’t do it!”
Lucy’s interest was piqued. “Excuse me?”
Ted took a long drink from his beer. “I broke up with Patty a year ago, and she’s made my life a living hell since then.”
“You think she drugged you?”
“I think she tried to kill me. I felt something grab my legs. I kicked and thrashed, and it still pulled me down. I know it sounds ludicrous, but she’s a diver.”
“Did you tell the police?” Lucy asked. They remained silent. “You need to file a report and get a restraining order.”
Wendy laughed humorlessly. Ted said, “I can’t go to the police. Patty is a cop. The first time she harassed me, it was right after I moved out. She trashed my new apartment. I filed a report, but there was no proof she did it. Then two of her cop friends beat me up when I was walking to my car after work. She then started following me, accidentally bumping into me at a restaurant, or the movies, things like that.”
Wendy said, “Six months ago I transferred to Boston for a job and met Ted. On our third date, Patty showed up at the restaurant and made a scene. The manager called the police, and when they arrived, they arrested Ted! If I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have believed it. He didn’t do anything except try to calm her down.”
“A week later,” Ted said, “I was arrested for assault. Patty said I’d gone to her house and when she told me to leave I hit her. I was never there!”
“You have other options,” Lucy said. “Reporting her to internal affairs, for example. Or to the FBI if you’re concerned about police corruption.”
“I didn’t know I could go to the FBI. I guess that’s next.” He sighed, defeated. “I just want my life back. I proposed to Wendy on Saturday, and we were enjoying our vacation until today. How did she find us? We even lied to our friends and families, told them we were going to Maine because we didn’t want them accidentally telling her where we were.”
Lucy had been skeptical when they started their story, but they both had the right body language and verbal responses. Still, while police corruption existed, could a cop get her buddies to participate in such harassment? “Why would her friends help her?”
“She’s a liar,” Wendy said. “She told me once that Ted left her because she was pregnant, then had a miscarriage. Then she changed her story and said Ted made her have an abortion. Then she said she had her tubes tied because Ted didn’t want any kids.”
“None of that was true,” Ted said. “She even called my mother and told her we were engaged! The only reason the assault charges were dropped was because I had a good lawyer, but then Patty got a restraining order against me!”
Sean spoke up for the first time. “Can I see your cell phone?” Ted handed it over. While inspecting the device, Sean asked, “Have you posted any pictures of your trip on the Internet? On Facebook? Emailed anyone?”
Wendy shook her head. “No. We didn’t want them to know—God, I hate that she’s turned us into liars too!”
“I know how she found you,” Sean said. He powered down the phone and took out the battery. “Don’t use your phone until you contact your provider and tell them to wipe your back-up files, then have the software re-installed. You’ll lose everything on the phone, but it’ll also wipe her GPS tracking program.”
“She had us bugged?” Wendy asked, incredulous.
“Close. She knew exactly where the phone was at all times.”
“I’ll get another phone,” Ted said.
Sean shook his head. “Won’t do any good. The program is integrated and unless you get a completely new phone number and account, it will be downloaded from your back-up files.”
“We have friends in law enforcement who might be able to help,” Lucy said.
“It’s too late,” Ted said. “Wendy and I have been talking about leaving Boston and moving to California. My sister lives there and said we can stay with her until we find jobs.”
“And you don’t think she knows where your sister lives?” Lucy said. “Your ex-girlfriend is obsessed. If she tried to kill you today, moving cross-country isn’t going to stop her. If you file charges—” she stopped. “Did you get a drug test this afternoon?” When they shook their heads, she added, “Depending on the drug, it may still be in your system. Go to the hospital first thing in the morning. Or now.” Though, even if the test was positive, there would be no proof that his ex-girlfriend had been the person who’d drugged him.
Wendy said, “I thought I saw her yesterday, but dismissed it—I wasn’t certain because her hair was much darker and she wore big sunglasses.”
“Even if we could prove she was here, that’s still not going to help.” Sean picked up Ted’s phone again. “I have an idea.”
Lucy didn’t like the plan even before hearing Sean’s plan. “I already don’t like it.”
He grinned as he popped the battery back in the phone. “What do you mean? I haven’t even told you.”
“I know you, Sean Rogan.”
He leaned over and kissed her, then said softly, “You know and I know that Ted’s psychotic ex-girlfriend will get caught eventually, but probably not until after they’re dead.”
“Tactful,” Lucy muttered.
Sean turned to the newly engaged couple. “So this is the plan. We’re taking your phone and your room. Where are you staying?”
“We have a cottage on the beach,” Wendy said. “But I don’t understand.”
“I also need her full name and address if you have it.”
“Why would you help us?”
“It’s what I do.” Sean slid over his business card. “I’m in the security business. It’s clear to me that your stalker has escalated. She’s going to kill you unless we stop her. And it’s also clear that going through the proper channels at this point will take too long. So what do you say?”
Lucy wanted them to decline, but wasn’t surprised when they both nodded their heads. “What do you want us to do?” Ted asked.
Sean explained how they would trade phones and rooms, then wait.
“Do you really think she’ll try to kill Ted again?”
“If she’s still in town? I guarantee it.”
For well over an hour, Sean and Lucy sat in Ted and Wendy’s small cottage, digging up everything they could on the parties involved. It wasn’t that they didn’t believe Ted and Wendy, but their story did stretch credibility. A cursory background check showed them to be exactly who they said they were.
Because of his P.I. license and RCK connections, Sean could go deep. Because of his computer skills, he could do it faster than most. “Patricia Annette Glover, thirty-two, born in Providence, Rhode Island,” he said. “Received an AA from a community college. Joined the Army Reserves when she was eighteen. She went through the police academy and worked for Boston Police Department for seven years, then her Reserves unit was called up for service in Iraq. She volunteered for two more tours. Was honorably discharged three years ago.”
“And went back to Boston PD?”
“Newton Police Department, not far from Boston.”
“Big city to small city.” Lucy wondered why the switch. “I don’t suppose you can access her records?”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “Legally? No. But it wouldn’t be difficult—”
Lucy shook her head rapidly. “Please don’t.”
He laughed. “You’re so much fun to tease.”
“What can you legally get on her?”
“She and our man Ted lived together for a year. And he moved out fourteen months ago like he said. Here’s her photo—very pretty.”
Lucy examined the image of the sandy blonde—Patty was attractive at first glance, but her smile was forced and didn’t reach her eyes. The picture was taken at a police function, though not everyone was in uniform. While the rest of the group were close together, hands on the arms or shoulders of their colleagues, Patty was distinctly separated, an aura of loneliness surrounding her.
Lucy made up the bed to look like two people were sleeping close together. She eyed her handiwork. In the dark, it would pass.
“Glover has clean credit, pays her bills on time, and stays under the radar. If I had just two days, I could have my brother look at her military record through his contacts—getting it through proper channels would take forever.” Sean put his computer to sleep and turned off all the lights. Streetlights illuminated the room just enough to make out shapes and shadows. “On the surface, they’re all clean. Even Ted and Wendy’s social networking is minimal.”
Lucy stood by the front window—the two side windows were too narrow for entry—and Sean had the cottage door covered. They hadn’t seen any sign of Ted’s ex-girlfriend, but now that the lights were off, they expected if she was going to show, it would be before dawn. Much easier to attack when your prey was asleep.
“This isn’t the romantic getaway I’d planned,” Sean said.
“We’ll do it again.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute. “You’re leaving in a few days. You’ll be wrapped up in training.”
“I’ll still have twenty-four hours off every weekend. Saturday night, I’m yours.”
He grinned. “I’m holding you to that, princess.”
“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Lucy said, “but I already know I’ll miss you.” She’d been preparing for her FBI training for what seemed like years—everything she’d done since college had been aimed toward this moment. Now, she had something more she cared about, someone she loved, that equaled her passion for her career. And, maybe, if she allowed herself to feel deeply, surpassed it.
“How does love turn so wrong?” Lucy asked.
“Wrong? There’s nothing wrong with the way we feel—oh. You’re thinking about Ted and Patty.”
“I mean, I understand the psychology of stalkers. How they are created, their obsessive need. That it’s about control and fear and the inability to allow another to have freedom. The excessive, unwarranted jealousy; the doubt; the lack of self-worth, as if all that they are is because of someone else. But when is the switch is flipped? What’s the trigger? What makes them want to kill someone they profess to love?”
“Because it’s not love and it never was,” Sean said. “Love is letting go, confident your lover will return. Love is helping make your partner the best that they can be.”
“You do that for me,” Lucy whispered.
“It goes both ways, that’s why we work. Never forget that, Luce.”
They remained silent, focused on the sounds outside, waiting.
Sean broke the silence thirty minutes later and said, “We still need a real vacation.”
“I get four days off at Thanksgiving.”
“Those days are mine.”
“It’ll be in San Diego. My parents will shoot me if I don’t go home this year. But between my parents and brothers and sisters, we won’t have much time alone.”
“We’ll find the time. Provided no one we know has a psycho ex-girlfriend.”
Lucy almost laughed. She looked at her watch. It was well after midnight; they’d been here over three hours. She called her cell phone, which they’d given to Ted. No answer. “I can’t reach Ted.”
“Dammit! I should have stayed with them. Let’s go.”
Under a broken streetlight, Patty Glover sat on a bench and watched the Bed & Breakfast for three hours. The night was still warm, but a light breeze off the bay cooled her.
She wore all black, her newly darkened hair pulled sharply back from her face, the faint hint of dye surrounding her.
Ted thought he could reject her. He thought he could exchange her for a cuter, less-damaged model.
She’d spent three years of her life with Ted. From the first moment she saw him, she knew he was the only one for her.
She’d come off of active duty broken. She’d thought she’d hardened her heart and put the war behind her, but around every corner she saw the dead and dying. Until Ted smiled at her the morning of May 3rd–three years, and three months ago–when she had the gun in her pocket, a fraction of a second from putting it to her chin and pulling the trigger.
“You look like you lost your best friend,” he had said. Then he smiled. His smile melted her heart.
“It’s been a rough couple months.” The gun weighed heavy in her grip.
“I’m Ted Odell. I started working at Boston College last week.”
“You’re a teacher?”
He laughed, and that’s when she fell in love. “I’m an accountant.”
“Patty Glover—I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Maybe you just need someone to talk it through. How about coffee?”
That day, Ted saved her life.
She’d clung to Ted ever since, knowing when he was drifting away, knowing her need was driving him away. And then he left . . . but she couldn’t let him go. The thought of another woman having Ted’s heart, his smile, his optimism—it killed Patty deep inside.
Did they actually think she’d fall for their trick? Did they actually think she was that stupid? She’d survived three tours of duty in Iraq, alternating periods of intense boredom with intense action. Her best friend died in her arms. Her commander had his head blown off only inches from hers. She could still taste his blood. It could have been her.
She blinked, and for a split second she forgot where she was. She looked around, her hand in her pocket, clutching the gun.
Cape Cod. Ted. Deceiving her, again.
The lights were off in the Bed & Breakfast, had been for some time, but Patty waited another few minutes before she rose from the bench and disappeared into the house.
She was dead without Ted, and so he would be as well.
On the short drive to their Bed & Breakfast, Lucy called the local police. She hung up. “I don’t know if they took me seriously after I told them no lights, no sirens. They estimate five to seven minutes.”
Sean stopped the rental car around the corner, checked his gun and holstered it. “We can’t wait,” Sean said.
Sean led the way through the shadows toward the B&B, Lucy right behind him. They unlocked the front door and quietly went upstairs to where their room was located in the back. He motioned for Lucy to turn the knob while he trained his gun on the door.
It was unlocked. On three, she pushed open the door.
Sean came in high while Lucy moved aside. He scanned the room, saw no immediate threat. A body lay motionless on the floor. Wendy.
Sean turned on the lights and searched the room while Lucy checked Wendy’s pulse and injuries. “She’s alive,” Lucy said. “She hit her head—there’s some blood, but her pulse is strong and steady.”
“Coldcocked, most likely. Glover probably threatened to kill her if Ted didn’t go with her.” Standard tactic since Wendy wasn’t Patty’s primary target.
Lucy gently shook Wendy. “Wendy, it’s Lucy Kincaid. Wake up.”
Wendy stirred, moaning.
“Wendy,” Lucy said, “where did Patty take Ted?”
“I—I don’t know.”
Lucy helped her into a chair and asked, “Did Patty say anything?”
“It happened so fast!” Wendy began to shake and Sean tossed Lucy a blanket, which she wrapped around the traumatized woman. “She had a gun! Please, don’t let her kill him.”
Sean glanced around. “Where’s Lucy’s phone?”
Wendy blinked. “I—I don’t know.”
Sean pulled out his cell phone and thumbed in his code. “Got her, the bitch.” The phone was only two blocks away, near the harbor. He woke the B&B owner and told him to call for an ambulance and tell the police where they were headed, then he and Lucy left.
It was faster to run to the beach than backtrack to the car. When they arrived, Patty was maneuvering a small motorboat away from the harbor. Very quickly she disappeared with Ted into the moonless night.
Sean made a beeline to a speedboat docked at the end. “I’m just going to borrow it,” he told Lucy as he hotwired the boat in half a minute, pleased he hadn’t lost his touch. “I can get to her in three minutes, but she’ll hear us.” He turned on the radar and adjusted his course to follow.
“I don’t see how we have a choice.”
“Luce, I’ll admit—I’m at a loss. If she’s suicidal, threats aren’t going to stop her.”
“We’re going to have to wing it.”
“There’s a spotlight on the front of the boat.” He pointed to the switch on the dash “She’ll be momentarily blinded when I flip it on.”
“She’s an Army private you said, right?”
“You have a plan?”
“I think we can momentarily confuse her. Soldiers are used to taking orders. Can you be Sergeant Rogan for five minutes?”
“I know what you want.” Sean gripped her hand. “A distraction.”
“Exactly. As soon as you’re close enough, I’ll slip into the water. Turn on the light and talk to her. I’ll swim over to the boat and—”
Sean shook his head. “Hell no. I’ll swim—”
“She’ll be more inclined to take orders from a male officer, and I’m a better swimmer than you.” The latter was true, but Sean didn’t relish the idea of Lucy in the middle of the bay with a psycho stalker ready to commit murder-suicide. “The waters are calm tonight,” she continued. “And I’ll have a life vest.” She was already pulling it on. “When I get to the boat, if her back is to Ted I’ll signal him to jump.
“And if it’s not?”
“I’ll figure it out when I get there.”
Sean hated the idea, but he didn’t have a better one, and they were out of time. “Don’t die on me tonight, Princess.” He kissed her.
He glanced at the radar; the other boat was slowing down. When he was thirty feet away, he slowed the speedboat and nodded to Lucy. She slipped silently into the dark water.
He turned the spotlight on at its brightest setting and picked up the microphone.
“Private Glover!” he commanded in an authoritarian voice. He’d learned well from his brothers.
Patty was sitting in the chair at the wheel. Ted was handcuffed at the stern. They both turned toward the light. Patty held one hand to her eyes and raised her gun hand.
“Glover!” Sean said, the mic making his voice even more powerful. “Stand down, soldier! That’s an order!”
Lucy swam just outside the glow of the spotlight. Sean hoped Patty couldn’t see her.
“Go away!” Glover shouted, her voice small across the distance. Sean was inching closer; the other boat was at a full stop.
“You don’t want to hurt a civilian,” Sean said.
Glover raised her gun and fired at the spotlight; the shot dinged the metal framing. She fired again and the light went out.
Now Sean was in the dark. He couldn’t see Lucy or the other boat.
Glover yelled at Ted, her voice alternately angry and desperate. “Why did you leave me? You saved my life! I need you. It hurts so much, I need you.”
“Patty—I’m sorry,” Ted said, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”
Frantic to find another distraction, Sean searched the captain’s box and picked up a flashlight—not as strong as the spotlight, but it would have to suffice.
He waited just a few seconds until he thought Lucy would be in position.
He turned on the flashlight. He was much closer now, only fifteen feet away, and was pretty certain Glover could see him. He had the flashlight in his left fist so he could steady his gun hand on his wrist. He shined the light directly into Glover’s eyes. She put her arm up and aimed at him, but before she fired Ted turned his head to the starboard side. She followed his gaze. Sean couldn’t see Lucy, but when Glover turned her gun rapidly toward the water and pressed the trigger, Sean fired three times in rapid succession.
Glover only got off that one shot. Her body jerked as each bullet hit. She stumbled backward, then slumped to the floor.
Sean steered his boat to the edge of the smaller craft. “Lucy!” he called. He couldn’t tell if Glover’s bullet had gone wild or been spot on. He didn’t see Lucy.
Fear warred with rage. Losing Lucy was not an option. He wouldn’t survive it. She was everything to him.
Pushing back his rising panic, he shined the flashlight in the water next to Glover’s boat. At first, he didn’t see anything. Then Lucy broke the surface, taking in a deep breath. Relief flooded his body.
“Clear!” he called to her. Lucy pulled herself up into the other boat. She kicked Glover’s gun away, then checked for a pulse. She shook her head and covered the body with a tarp.
Sean tethered the boats together, then boarded and assessed Ted. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth, but otherwise appeared unharmed.
“Oh, God, Wendy?” Ted’s eyes were frantic.
Sean picked the lock on the handcuffs. “Wendy’s okay. Can you get yourself into the other boat?”
Ted nodded. “Thank you so much.”
Sean grabbed Lucy and held her close. Her skin was ice cold.
“You didn’t have a choice.”
“When she turned her gun toward you . . .”
“I love you, Luce.” He didn’t have anything else to say.
She kissed him, then burrowed against his body heat. “I love you, Sean. But I’m ready for a hot bath.”
“If I’m in that bath with you, you’re reading my mind.”
She smiled. “You are.”
# # #
I hope you enjoyed “Vacation Interrupted!” DEAD HEAT goes on sale Tuesday, June 3, wherever mass market paperbacks or ebooks are sold. You can also order it on-line at IndieBound, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Powell’s, Books-a-Million, and iTunes. Or of course your favorite local bookstore!
Check out this short trailer for DEAD HEAT: