He’s a relentless homicide detective. She’s an uncompromising journalist.
Neither desires to work together—but they’ll never uncover the truth alone.
Landing a front-page headline isn’t why reporter Caitlin Sparks is investigating a string of suspicious deaths connected to the U.S. State Department. She has a personal stake in finding the killer.
Detective Blake Madison has a connection to the murders too, and will risk anything to uncover the truth. But a journalist is the last person he’d rely on to help him solve a crime—especially one whose trail of evidence leads back to him.
Joining forces becomes essential as the body count continues to grow. Someone powerful doesn't want the truth to come out—and will stop at nothing to make sure no one talks.
On the run with nowhere to turn, the couple devises a plan to expose the killer. The risk is great and the chance of success small, but the ultimate outcome is something neither one of them envisioned.
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With no back exit, Catilin’s emergency plan was to go out the upstairs window to the porch roof, and then drop down into the yard. There was really no other choice. Even with her slight build, she didn’t think she’d fit through the window over the kitchen sink, and the one in the living room had been painted shut years ago.
Sliding open the upstairs pane, Caitlin could hear movement and see lights reflecting from the front of the house, but saw nothing in the inky darkness to the rear. She crawled out onto the porch roof and remained still, half expecting to see the beam of a flashlight illuminate her hiding place. When the sound of the banging on the door began again, she closed the window and laid flat on her stomach in case anyone was watching.
After taking a few deep breaths, she pulled herself to the edge of the roof and tried to figure out how she was going to lower herself to the ground ten feet below. Why hadn’t she practiced this during daylight hours?
Deciding it was now or never, she held her breath as if she were jumping into deep water and slid her body off the roof. Dropping like a brick, she collapsed onto the ground and lay still to catch her breath and listen for any sign of disturbance.
Nothing. All was quiet except for the whooshing in her ears from her pounding heart. She scrambled up and had just started to turn around to run when two hands grabbed her from out of the darkness in a vice-like grasp. One of them wrapped around her waist and the other covered her mouth, stifling the scream that rose in her throat.
About the Author
She is a three-time winner of the John Esten Cooke Award for Southern Fiction, and has won more than a dozen other literary awards, including a Readers' Favorite International Book Award and a Gold Medal from the Military Writers Society of America. Her novels have been used in schools and are available in hundreds of libraries including Harvard and the U.S. Naval Academy.
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