Pine Lake

Pine Lake
Amanda Stevens

SLEEPWALKING WITH DANGER

The murder of security expert Jack King’s girlfriend has haunted him for fifteen years. Returning to Pine Lake, Texas, where the townsfolk still consider him suspect, might not be the smartest move, but a killer seems to be holding up a mirror to his past. The same witness to this new murder was also present the night Jack’s girlfriend dieds…but both times, she was sound asleep...

Sleepwalking has gotten Olive Belmont into some sticky situations. Being the witness to both murders may have put her on the killer’s list. Even so, she doesn’t think the killer is Jack and is willing to help him. But will putting his past to rest ease her mind or leave her with even greater nightmares?

“I’ve been away from here for a long time,” he said. “I may not be the man you think I am.”

“I may not be the woman you think I am,” she countered. “If you think about me at all,” she added sheepishly.

“Hard to forget someone you meet on top of a bridge.”

He saw a shiver go through her as she turned to stare out the windshield. She looked very enticing with her hair all mussed and her lips slightly parted. Another time, another place and Jack might have responded to the subtle invitation in her smile. But a hookup was the last thing he needed. He’d come to town to poke a hornet’s nest. Depending on what he found, things could get ugly. Sides might have to be chosen. After all was said and done, he’d return to Houston while Olive would still have to live here.

Jack knew only too well what it was like to be a pariah in Pine Lake.

The Throne He Must Take

Chantelle Shaw

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

AMANDA STEVENS is an award-winning author of over fifty novels, including the modern gothic series, The Graveyard Queen. Her books have been described as eerie and atmospheric, “a new take on the classic ghost story.” Born and raised in the rural South, she now resides in Houston, Texas, where she enjoys binge-watching, bike riding and the occasional margarita.

Contents

Cover (#u4fc5d477-3556-5802-9507-6fabbd34a4c5)

Back Cover Text (#u9bb07b26-3212-5248-ac16-f9cb3387ef46)

Introduction (#uc619f5cc-556a-5ddf-a735-64de5505a713)

Title Page (#u9185746e-3a16-5dff-b9af-155056d2e23e)

About the Author (#u5c52c47d-8c24-59dc-8d15-efbdc5092032)

Chapter One (#u91309584-acf4-5238-a62d-0f397c0edf8e)

Chapter Two (#u4964629c-48b4-5e70-86b1-7f7e912b08ef)

Chapter Three (#ua448785a-e8f5-51a0-a02a-276d8c3fb50e)

Chapter Four (#ufc0ff364-c2f3-5932-954c-c7ec2a6ecfa1)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ue6b58201-9381-5980-ba81-7339b74a0793)

It was an ordinary day. Which made the phone call all the more extraordinary.

Jack King wasn’t in the best of moods to begin with. He’d been stuck inside since early morning and boredom had worn down his patience. Even on the rare instances when he found himself in between assignments, he could usually rustle up something that would keep him out of the office. No chore was too tedious so long as it put distance between him and his cluttered desk.

For the past five years, he’d been working for the Blackthorn Agency, a high-profile consultant and security organization headquartered in Houston, Texas. Jack worked in Black Watch, the division tasked with state and municipal government oversight, including police departments. His particular expertise was in exposing corruption in cities large and small where the rot started at the head and worked its way down through the ranks. It wasn’t a job for the faint of heart. Cops were notoriously territorial and they knew how to circle the wagons. But Jack enjoyed the challenge and he’d learned a long time ago how to watch his back.

That morning, he’d arrived at headquarters with the expectation of a new briefing. Instead, a mountain of delinquent paperwork and a stern warning from the man upstairs had kept him chained to his desk as his gaze strayed every few minutes to the clock on the wall outside his office. The day had seemed interminable.

Finally at six, he filed his last report, stood, stretched and walked out of his office, wishing the division manager a nice weekend. He was just getting off the elevator when his phone rang. He started to ignore it. Wished a thousand times later that he had. He didn’t want to be called back upstairs because he’d dotted the wrong i or forgotten to cross a t. Whatever technicality needed his attention could damn well wait until Monday.

Still...

He slid the phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. No name, just a number. The area code and prefix pinged his alarm and he told himself again to ignore the call. He couldn’t, of course. Curiosity niggled. He’d had no contact with anyone in his hometown in over fifteen years. He’d left Pine Lake the day after his high school graduation and his folks had fled a month later. Only his uncle Leon had remained to tough things out, but he’d passed away last spring. Jack hadn’t even gone back for the funeral.

No good could come of that phone call. He knew that. But he pressed the phone to his ear anyway as he strode across the lobby, nodding to the security guard behind the desk on his way out.

“Hello,” he said as he pushed open the glass door and stepped through into the early August heat.

“Jack? Jack King, right?”

Unease feathered along his spine. “Yes, this is Jack.”

“You don’t know who this is, do you? Little wonder. It’s been a long time. Fifteen years to be exact.” The caller fell silent. “Damn, this is a lot harder than I thought it would be. It’s Nathan, Jack. Nathan Bolt.”

Nathan Bolt. Now there was a name from his past. He and Jack and Tommy Driscoll had been best friends all through school. Blood brothers since kindergarten. Thick as thieves, Uncle Leon used to say. Until Nathan and Tommy had turned on Jack during their senior year. They’d given each other alibis for the night of Anna Grayson’s murder, leaving Jack alone in the crosshairs of a ruthless sheriff.

With little evidence and zero suspects, the authorities had gone hard after Jack. He was the boyfriend, after all, and unlike Tommy and Nathan, he hadn’t been able to produce an alibi. The harassment had continued for months, making him an outcast in the place where he’d lived his whole life. Even after an arrest had finally been made and an ex-con sent back to prison, the community had continued to shun him. In the ensuing years, Jack had done his best to forget about Pine Lake and everyone who lived there, but not a day went by that he didn’t think about Anna. Not a day went by that he didn’t wish for her the long and happy life she had deserved.

An image flashed through his head. Dark hair, dark eyes. A smile that could light up a stadium.