Deadly Consequences (18 page)

Run or die... An insidious plot. A chilling charade. A brutal murder is only the beginning. When her fiancée is burned alive in front of her and the murderer realizes there is a witness to his fiery crime, Sierra finds herself running for her life as she tries to unravel the mysteries surrounding of the life and death of the man she thought she was going to marry... and the more she discovers, the more danger she faces. Can Sierra uncover the truth in time?

Praise for
State of Panic

“A mesmerizing story of wit and betrayal” ~ Jonas Saul

“
A great book which is very deserving of 5 stars.
”
~
Stuart Mccallum

“This story starts at a sprint and doesn't let up. It's a sizzling summer read, fall read, blood pumping winter read, or afresh spring read. The one thing I can guarantee is once you start, you won't stop.” ~ Mark Souza

“Lori Gordon has added a new heroine to the pantheon of memorable characters in thriller/suspense literature--Sierra Montgomery, trapped in the deadly war between madmen aspiring to rule the world and the good guys trying to stop them.” ~  William Stroupe

“An alarming, believable and utterly consuming tale.”

“A seriously an incredible book.”

“
This is a fast paced page turner.
”

“
I had never read anything by this author before but you can bet I will be looking for her other
books.”

“State of Panic grabbed me from the first page and I had a hard time putting it down. I really enjoyed the characters and all the twists and turns. It starts with a great premise and has a satisfying finish. Highly recommended.”

Enjoy an excerpt from

State of Panic

Chapter One

Sierra writhed beneath him. Her nails dug into his arms, urging him to go faster. His body was slick. A bead of sweat dropped onto her cheek. Her back arched, she was so close.

“Quiet.”

At first, she thought he was kidding. He froze above her, body rigid with tension. She groaned thrusting her hips against his, trying to pull him closer.

He was off her in an instant.

She opened her eyes, blinking in confusion. Her hand groped in the dark for the sheet. The air conditioning was a blast of ice against her overheated skin. “What’s the matter?”

“I said, quiet. Don’t you understand what quiet means?” He sat perched on the edge of the bed. His head was cocked, as if he was listening for something.

An angry flush stained her cheeks. She loved him.
She was about to marry him for Christ’s sake,
but there were times he tried her patience. It had been a long day and she was exhausted. She was tempted to roll over and go to sleep, but she was getting tired of his strange outbursts. It would serve him right if she got dressed and went home.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or not?”

He ignored her.
The hell with him.
Sierra reached down and grabbed her clothes off the floor. His hand clamped down around her wrist before she could reach them. “Go to the kitchen. Now.

“What for?”

“Fix us a snack. I need something to eat.”

That wasn’t like him. In all the years she’d known him, he never once ordered her to do something. She studied his face. He looked tense, haggard, his face drawn, and lines of worry creased his brow. A chill ran up her spine.
Something wasn’t right.

“Please,” he begged, “You know what I like. Fix us something to eat.”

She was too tired to argue, but she was damned sure going to let him know she wasn’t happy. She wasn’t his servant. Her voice was cold and tight. “Fine.”

His hand loosened on her wrist. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, “Thank you, Sweetheart. Wait for me in the kitchen, okay. Please?”

“Why?”

He ran his hand through his hair, “Will you stop with the questions already?” He snapped. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

Sierra pursed her lips and yanked on her bathrobe. He could be a real sonofabitch at times. When she reached the bedroom door, she stopped to glare at him.

“Please, don’t be like that,” he begged. “I love you.”

Tension snaked through her. Something was definitely wrong.
But what?
One minute he’d be fine, the next he was on edge, cranky. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she reached the refrigerator door. Hunger could put anyone in a foul mood, herself included. She exhaled in an effort to calm down. They’d missed dinner. Maybe the evening — and the mood — could be salvaged if they ate.

It was a hot night and she opted to fix a cool snack. She grabbed a plate from the cabinet and loaded it with goodies from the fridge. Melon, prosciutto, swiss, and cheddar. A bit of salami to add some bite. At the last minute, she reached for the bottle of pinot grigio chilling in the fridge. Maybe the wine would help settle him down.

She rummaged through a drawer to find the corkscrew. He never put it back in the right place. Things would have to change after they were married. She reached for the wine glasses, and they clinked together as she removed them from the cabinet.

Click. Boom.

Something exploded.

Sierra jumped. The edge of kitchen counter dug into the small of her back as she slammed against it. The wine glasses slipped from her fingertips, tumbling down to the carpet. An ungodly shriek split the air, sending tremors of terror through her. She raced towards the hallway, heart slamming inside her chest. A thought stopped her cold
. Neil’s odd behavior, the way he sent her to the kitchen, telling her to wait there for him. He’d known something was wrong, and had been trying to protect her.

She forced herself to slow her pace. Running straight into danger wouldn’t help anyone. It might even get her killed. Instinct kicked in. She flattened her back against the wall and crept towards the doorway, then offered up a silent prayer and peered around the corner.

The stench of burning flesh assailed her nostrils, hitting her hard. Bile splashed the back of her throat. She gagged, struggling to make sense of the horror in front of her. Disbelief chugged through her mind. Neil’s body, engulfed in flames. She could hear the hiss of fire licking the flesh from his bones.

He fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Her hands flew to her face. It was already too late; there was nothing she could do to help him. No way he could survive. He rolled, an angry ball of fire, hurtling towards the front door.

Someone set him on fire.
She looked up. A stranger stood framed in the doorway, face impassive, watching her fiancé burn. He had cold, dead eyes. Their black depths seared into her mind, and she knew she’d remember them forever.

Sierra stumbled back in shock, braking out in a cold, clammy sweat.
I have to get out of here.
Her stomach cramped. She clutched her belly, fighting the urge to vomit. Her mind splintered in a thousand directions.
If he sees me, he’ll kill me too.
Panic washed over her, rooting her in place. If she ran, she could wind up a suspect. If she stayed, she could end up dead.

Get. Out. Now.

She peaked around the corner one last time. A sob welled up in her throat, almost choking her. Neil, or what was left of him, was melting into the floorboards.
The very last thing she had done was glare at him. Oh God! Would she ever be able to forgive herself?

No time for that now. She had to pull herself together.

The stranger’s eyes remained fixed on Neil. This might be her only chance. She hugged the wall, moving towards the back of the house, darting into the bedroom to grab her purse. Neil’s laptop sat beside it. All her contact information was stored in his computer. Under the circumstances, she didn’t want to leave it behind. She shoved the laptop inside her bag, praying she wouldn’t get caught.

A quick glance down the hall told her it was safe. She hugged the purse against her body and dashed into the kitchen. Her hands were shaking so hard the doorknob rattled when she eased open the back door. One step closer to safety. She slid through the crack into the stuffy night air. Fear pumped inside her; she started to hyperventilate the moment she shut the door behind her. Fighting back tears, she stumbled, falling headlong into the grass. She knew she was going to be sick and scrambled behind a bush, terrified the killer might hear her retching. Her body heaved; the contents of her stomach splattering the ground. She couldn’t stop shaking.

Her mind clicked away at warp speed. Her first instinct was to flee, to run to her car, and tear through the night. What if the killer chose that exact moment to leave? She’d be setting herself up as bait. She should call 911, but she knew enough to realize she was an automatic suspect. Her face would be plastered all over the news, alerting the killer to her identity. She couldn’t run, not dressed in a bathrobe. She’d stick out like a sore thumb on the deserted streets. Best to sit tight. With any luck, the killer had no idea anyone else had been in the house.

A chill prickled the back of her neck.
He would know. Her clothes lay scattered in the bedroom; two wine glasses were on the kitchen floor. He was going to come looking for her any minute now. Oh God, she had to get away.
Her eyes darted around the yard, desperation reared up inside her. There had to be a place to hide. The garage. She had a set of Neil’s keys. Her legs went weak with relief. She dug inside her purse, crying when her fingers closed over them. She stayed in the shadows until she reached the garage, and then made a quick run for it.

She could see the house through the small garage window. Lights blazed inside. The killer was on the hunt, turning on light in every room.
He’s looking for me.
Her palms were sweaty. The key slipped twice when she tried to fit it in the ignition.

The minute the garage door opened, she gunned the engine. Her heart skipped a beat. She was safe. For now.

With the immediate danger behind her, a combination of shock and grief exploded inside her.
Who would want to kill Neil? And why?

It made no sense. He was an average guy. There was nothing in his past that would make him a target.
At least nothing she knew of.

The image of him rolling on the floor, unable to escape the flames torching his body, sent a fresh wave of pain ripping through her. The scent of burning flesh lingered in her nostrils. She would never forget the smell. It would be with her forever. The horror of what she witnessed churned inside her. She was shaking so hard, she had to pull over. There was no way she could drive in her current state.

She found a side street, far enough away from Neil’s house that she felt safe, and gave into the sobs racking her body. Her nerves tingled, and her head pounded with questions.

Neil had been afraid. Even making love, he was attuned to danger. He’d been listening for it, damn it. It took a moment before the implication set in. He knew he was at risk, and he hadn’t told her. Worse yet, he’d exposed her to danger. He had gambled with her life by having her with him.
What kind of man would do such a thing to the woman he loved and planned to marry?

Sierra slumped back against the seat. Her life had blown apart in an instant, but at least she was still alive. She needed time to process everything. When she got home, she’d pour herself a stiff drink and try to put the pieces together.

Home. Dear God
, she thought,
I can’t go home. The police will want to question me. Whenever there’s a murder investigation, they look at the loved ones first.
She’d fled the scene, which meant she already had one strike against her. She had to give herself a fighting chance and calling the police wasn’t an option. There was no way in hell she’d give the killer a roadmap to find her.