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Right and wrong should be a simple thing. For Lainey, it just may cost her her life. For Ashton, it could bring him his greatest love.
As the guardrail came closer, Lainey Hall knew it would most likely be the last minutes of her life. The vehicle intent on pushing her off the bridge was relentless. The night was dark, the hour late, and the embankment steep. Suddenly, the reasons for her investigation didn’t seem as important as they had when she’d begun this journey. She was right in what she had done, she knew that as well as she knew her own name. But in this moment…the cost was more than she was willing to pay.
After rebuilding his life from the ground up, Ashton Jameson, was content. He’d come to grips with the fact that his best friend was dead. And while the scar on his face was a constant reminder of that night, he’d moved on. It didn’t matter that he chose to seclude himself from an unforgiving world. His life was full and included only those trusted few whom he chose to surround himself with.
But life has a way of throwing you curves you don’t expect. Proven one day when a strange woman was dumped unceremoniously—and without his permission—in the house next door. At first, he resented her presence, until it became apparent that she was in trouble. He wanted to help her, but could he trust her? And if he stepped in, what would he be getting involved with and could it hurt the people he loved most? Sometimes things are worth the risk, but was this one of those times?

Sujets

Thrillers

Suspense

Fiction

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Publié par	AuthorHouse
Date de parution	29 septembre 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781665572132
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0350€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Titles by P. L. B yers

Divine Intervention
A Life Worth Living

Sisters of My Heart Tri logy
A Reason to Dream
(Book One)
A Reason to Hope
(Book Two)
A Reason to Trust
(Book Three)

Out of the Darkness Se ries
Love’s True Destiny
Always You
The Unexpected Truth
My Only Chance
A Single Night
My Every Thought

Who’s Laughing Now
Purposeful Betrayal
Condemned To Run
Condemned To Run

P. L. BYERS

AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 833-262-8899

© 2022 P. L. Byers. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/28/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7214-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-7212-5 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-7213-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022917965

Author photo taken by Karen Moriarity at www. Kemphoto.com” and “P. L. Byers’ website created and maintained by www.bigpresenceagency.com .

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgment
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
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
About the Author
Dedication
I dedicate this book to my wonderful mom. The woman who always made me feel special, who made me feel like I mattered above all else and supported me no matter what I was doing or what my dreams were.
Throughout my life she has always been the one person who could make my life so much better just by hearing her voice. Whenever I was having a bad day, the sound of her voice made it better. When something was upsetting me, she had the ability to let me get it off my chest, then proceed to talk to me showing me another side, another view, or perhaps a different way of looking at things. The tone of her voice, the kindness in her words, and the wisdom in her thoughts, always helped me to be a better person.
This August I lost that voice. My mom passed away so unexpectedly that I am still reeling from the shock. I can’t believe that I will never hear her voice again, see her beautiful face, or read a text to “Little One”. What I do have, though, are the amazing memories she gave me, the strength she instilled in me, and the love that I will always feel deep in my heart. With every cup of tea I drink, hummingbird I see, or melodic sound of a wind chime I hear, she is with me.
Rest easy now mom and know that you are loved and remembered for all the incredible, thoughtful, amazing things that were so much a part of you. You lived your life with such grace and dignity. I have always been—and will continue to be—very proud that I was your daughter.
Brenda L. Byers
January 10, 1940 – August 3, 2022
Acknowledgment
I always acknowledge my wonderful husband for the support he gives me in my writing. He deserves that…but I want to acknowledge him for being and doing so much more. Prior to this book coming out there was so much going on. The death of my mother was extremely difficult, but he stood beside me when I needed him most, never ceasing to hold my hand, offer a hug, or simply cry with me. You’ll never know, Mark, how much that meant.
For my beautiful, wonderful sister and beta reader…as always, your brain storming sessions and critiques make me a better writer. Thank you for all you do to help with my manuscripts, but most especially for being my sister. We both lost such an important part of our lives. I’m so grateful that I had you by my side. You have amazing strength and such grace, just like our mom. She loved her “Honeybee” and always talked about the special moments you two shared. Don’t ever forget how happy those times made her.
To my editor, Noel, you continue to give me the expertise I need to grow as a writer. Your inputs/corrections are invaluable, and I truly appreciate the hard work you put into my manuscripts!
Chapter One
T HE TINY SPACE Lainey squeezed herself into was making it extremely difficult to do anything but breathe shallowly. The cramped space barely allowed room for her five-foot three-inch frame to fit, which made it impossible to take a deep breath. Panic nearly took over before she reminded herself to calm down. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t able to take in any air at all. Much like an asthma attack, though…when you know you can’t get enough air into your lungs, anxiety slowly creeps in as fear takes hold, making it more difficult to breathe.
Counting to ten, Lainey settled her thoughts and felt the panic ease as small amounts of air entered her lungs. She could do this! Another few minutes and the men who had entered the lab would depart and she could get the evidence she needed and get the hell out of here. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been in this position before tonight. This was the fifth night her sleuthing skills had been called upon, if only for her own personal investigation.
At first, she wasn’t sure who had followed her into the lab this evening. All along she’d had suspicions of her superior being involved but to have them confirmed was extremely disheartening. The second man who had entered she hadn’t recognized until they started arguing and the voice of the Deputy Chief for the Investigative Services Group for the local police department rang loud and clear. By the tone of their rather loud discussion, it was obvious that he was calling the shots and that her boss, while responsible for his own decisions, was being coerced into being a part of whatever cover-up was happening at the lab.
Being right-handed, it was natural for Lainey to have put the phone in her right pocket. Grateful that she could move the one arm, she awkwardly reached for her cell phone, took it from her pocket and using her thumb, scrolled to her camera, deftly moved it from photo to video, and hit the red button to record. Resting her forehead on the wall in front of her, she strained to catch their voices, praying that her device was recording the conversation that was going on.
The argument raged on for several minutes. Just as her arm was starting to weaken, the voices began to fade, and she heard the door close as the men exited the room. Lainey lowered her arm, sighing with relief as it came to her side. She waited an additional five minutes to make sure they had left before extricating herself from the small space she’d hidden in between the wall and the tall filing cabinet. She hesitated another few minutes, taking in deep, cleansing breaths, then went to the desk and sat at the computer. Looking around one last time to make sure she was alone, she typed in her password, quickly found the forged document she needed, and sent it to the printer. Tapping her finger impatiently on the desk, she waited until it finished before grabbing it from the tray, folding it in half and sliding it into the waistband of her jeans. Knowing her computer e-mails could be tracked, she decided it was better to print it and scan the document later when she got home.
It was hard to fathom what her life had become in the last four months. When she’d been hired on as the new Associate Forensic Scientist for the North Carolina State Crime Laboratory, she thought she’d finally found her dream job. And for the first eight months she had.
In the beginning she’d been assigned the most menial tasks, always in the lab, testing bodily fluids such as blood, examining weapons brought in, or comparing fingerprints. It was months before she’d proven herself and was permitted access to crime scenes to collect the evidence herself. Those were her favorite days, out in the field doing what she loved and had been trained to do.
Since she was a little girl, she’d been fascinated with any show that dealt with crime scenes. She loved watching as the characters followed the evidence to figure out who the killer was. When the “CSI” crime shows started, she was glued to the television, completely absorbed until the last minute when the suspect was arrested and justice was served.
Each birthday or Christmas her gifts revolved around microscopes, fingerprinting kits, or anything that involved criminal investigations. One of her favorite books was CSI Crime Investigation Brain Games . One year for her birthday, though, her brother Jeremy got her a coloring book titled Bloody Alphabet. It contained pictures of famous serial killers and while she adored it, her parents were horrified at the gift. To offset that, a year later, her mother, in order to get Lainey interested in cooking—something she felt every young woman should know how to do—bought her The Serial Killer Cookbook . It contained not only true crime trivia but recipes a