Read No One Left to Tell Online
Authors: Karen Rose
Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #General, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Crime
Karen Rose was born in Maryland and was introduced to suspense and horror at the tender age of eight when she accidentally read Poe’s
The Pit and the Pendulum
.
After marrying her childhood sweetheart, Karen worked as a chemical engineer (she holds two patents) and a teacher, before taking up a full-time writing career when the characters in her head refused to be silenced. Now Karen is more than happy to share space in her head with her characters and her writing has been rewarded with a series of bestsellers in the UK, the US and beyond.
Karen lives in sunny Florida with her husband and their two children.
Praise for Karen Rose:
‘Rose delivers the kind of high-wire suspense that keeps you riveted to the edge of your seat’
Lisa Gardner
‘A blend of hard-edged police procedural and romance . . . more shockingly detailed than anything in Karin Slaughter or Patricia Cornwell’s thrillers’
Irish Independent
‘Fast and furious’
Sun
‘A dealer in death, Karen Rose’s ace card is grisly gruesome murder . . . [She] serves it all up with her trademark attention to detail, fast-paced action, believable characters and subtle plotting’
Lancashire Evening Post
‘Intense, complex, and unforgettable’
James Patterson
‘A pulse pounding tale that has it all’
Cosmopolitan
‘A high-octane thrill ride that kept me on the edge of my seat and up far too late at night!’
Lisa Jackson
‘Rose juggles a large cast, a huge body count and a complex plot with terrifying ease’
Publishers Weekly
‘Blistering, high-octane suspense that never lets up. . . Don’t miss it!’
Karen Robards
‘Don’t miss this perfectly pitched chill-fest with a human edge from a rising star in the thriller market’
Scottish Daily Record
By Karen Rose and available from Headline
Don’t Tell
Have You Seen Her?
I’m Watching You
Nothing to Fear
You Can’t Hide
Count to Ten
Die For Me
Scream For Me
Kill For Me
I Can See You
Silent Scream
You Belong to Me
No One Left to Tell
Copyright © 2012 Karen Rose Hafer
The right of Karen Rose Hafer to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
First published as an Ebook by Headline Publishing Group in 2012
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
eISBN : 9780755373970
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
An Hachette UK Company
338 Euston Road
London NW1 3BH
www.headline.co.uk
www.hachette.co.uk
To my sweet mom, who has demonstrated strength, grace,
and faith throughout a very difficult year.
To my
sensei
, Sonie Lasker. I miss you, girl,
but am so very proud of you!
And to Martin. I love you always.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my friends for your consistently generous flow of information!
Danny Agan, for answering all my police ‘how-to’ and ‘what if’ questions.
Shannon Aviles, for the Spanish phrases.
Marc Conterato for helping my characters’ wounds to be more realistic.
Kay Conterato for her constant stream of interesting articles, facts, and links to people she meets. I get all manner of ideas this way!
Sonie Lasker for fight scene choreography and introducing me to karate.
To Claire Zion, Vicki Mellor, and Robin Rue – your support has meant more than you’ll ever know.
Finally, to my dear friends for all your love and unflagging encouragement. I love y’all right back.
Contents
Prologue
Six years earlier
H
e was near. Crystal could hear his heavy breathing, feel him watching her. If she looked to the right, past the perfectly manicured hedge, she’d see him. His eyes would be hungry, his body aroused. But she didn’t look at him. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Instead she glanced over her shoulder. The door to the gardener’s shed was ajar, just as he had said it would be.
The gardener’s shed
. She lifted her chin. He could have had her meet him anywhere on the grand estate, but he’d chosen the gardener’s shed. She’d make him pay for that. She’d make him pay for everything he’d done.
She quietly pushed at the door to the shed, taking a last look behind her. The party by the pool was in full swing, the music loud enough to be heard in the next county. Luckily the estate was as big as the next county or the cops would have already been here, handing out citations. She smiled bitterly, the very idea ridiculous.
The cops would never hand out citations here.
Which was a good thing for the dancers, she supposed.
And for me
. Everyone was so busy having fun that no one had seen her slip away. The partiers in the pool were having the most fun – coke and sex the party favors of choice. But not everyone was in the pool. The dance floor under the bobbing Chinese lanterns boasted its share of gyrating bodies. Every woman still clothed was dressed to the hilt, making Crystal grateful she’d had the good sense to go for the tiny, expensive dress and the even more expensive shoes. Her credit card was maxed out.
But I fit in
. Well enough to get her entrée to the party of the season – and that was the important thing. She wanted – no, she
needed
to be here. To see his face when she told him who she really was. That she had evidence that would ruin him.
That she now owned him.
He’d be shocked. Stunned. He might even beg.
Crystal smiled. She really hoped he begged.
She flicked a final glance at the big house, looming large and powerful on the hill above the partying crowd.
He could have had me there, in one of the bedrooms
. There were, after all, ten of them, each one decorated like something out of a magazine.
But here she was, stepping into the gardener’s shed. No matter.
Someday all of this will belong to me
.
She closed the door behind her and frowned. This really was a gardener’s shed. It was filled with tools and smelled of gasoline. Meticulously organized, the walls were covered with anything and everything a gardener would need to keep up an estate this size. Two riding mowers took up most of the concrete floor. There was no convenient cot in the corner as she’d expected. Not really any room to do anything.
Crystal rolled her eyes.
Except maybe kneel
. It figured.
The door behind her opened, closed again. ‘Amber,’ he said.
Crystal took a moment to still her racing heart.
Amber
. That’s how she’d introduced herself. If he’d known her real name, he never would have met her here. He would have ignored her, just as he’d ignored the phone messages she’d left with the damn butler up in the big house. That was the tricky part about blackmail. You actually had to get the target’s attention to lay out the terms. She had his attention now.
Showtime, girl. Make this count. Your future rides on the next five minutes
.
‘You came,’ she murmured seductively. ‘I wasn’t sure you would.’
He chuckled, the sound far from friendly. ‘You knew I was there,’ he said, ‘watching you.’
She kept her voice smooth. ‘Yes. I was hoping for somewhere a little more . . . comfortable. Somewhere we can . . . talk.’
He made a humming sound, considering. ‘Talk? I don’t think so.
Crystal
,’ he added and her heart leapt to close her throat.
‘You knew,’ she whispered.
‘Of course I knew. I had you followed. Pretty thing like you, coming on to me. I have to be careful. There are all kinds of bad people out there, Crystal. You never know who might try something stupid. Like blackmail. Are you going to blackmail me, Crystal?’
Fighting panic, she slowly lifted her arm to retrieve the lipstick-tube of pepper spray she’d slipped into her tiny handbag, glad she’d come prepared. Mentally she counted the steps to the door. Six steps. She could do six steps. She’d get by him.