Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
PROLOGUE
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
An Excerpt from Exposed
CHAPTER ONE
Also by Rhonda Pollero
About the Author
Newsletters
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Rhonda Pollero
Excerpt from Exposed copyright © 2017 by Rhonda Pollero
Cover design by Brian Lemus
Cover copyright © 2017 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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Forever Yours
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ISBN 978-1-4555-5542-0 (ebook edition)
ISBN 978-1-4555-9763-5 (print on demand edition)
For Bob and Amy Fetzer, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
PROLOGUE
Chasyn Summers parked her Prius on the street adjacent to the courthouse on East Ocean Boulevard. Her best friend and fellow witness, Kasey, was belted into the passenger side.
“Are you nervous?” Kasey asked.
Chasyn thought for a minute while she checked her makeup in the rearview mirror. The state’s attorney had warned them to wear subdued clothing and modest makeup. He’d said something about making them seem more sympathetic to the grand jury. So, she had chosen a navy skirt and a cream-colored blouse and she had foregone eye makeup save for a touch of mascara, and applied just a hint of blush-nude lipstick to complete the look. Her blond hair was pulled tight into a neat ponytail. She couldn’t look more matronly if she tried. “I feel like a school marm.”
“Tell me about it. I spent over a hundred dollars on this dress and it really needs to be hemmed. After we testify, I’ll take it to the seamstress and have her turn it into a proper little black dress.”
“Well, for now we are not two twenty-somethings out at a bar at two a.m.; we’re upstanding citizens who witnessed a murder.”
Kasey shivered. “I still have nightmares about that.”
“Me too,” Chasyn said. “But at least this will help them arrest Dr. Lansing. Thanks to us, or more specifically you.”
“Should be a cake walk,” Kasey said. “Except remember, the state’s attorney said the defense attorney would probably attack both of us because we’d been drinking that night.”
“Hours earlier and only two drinks. I mean how many times does a girl turn twenty-nine?” Chasyn asked. “We were both stone cold sober when we walked out of that restaurant and found that poor girl on the pavement.” She smoothed a wayward hair. “Ready?”
“Sure.” They exited the car and walked the short distance to the courthouse. It was made up of two buildings separated by a breezeway. Chasyn knew from earlier meetings with the state’s attorney that they needed to enter on the left side of the Martin County, Florida courthouse.
As they approached the buildings, she heard a loud pop, and suddenly found herself falling forward. Chasyn felt pressure but no real pain to go with her total sense of shock. A split second later she heard a second pop and Kasey fell next to her. Kasey’s eyes were open but blood was trickling out of her mouth.
Chasyn was vaguely aware of people screaming and running. A pool of blood was starting to form around her face. She smelled burned flesh and her ears were ringing.
After what seemed like a long time, someone came over to her and whispered, “You’ve been shot in the head. Try not to move.”
CHAPTER ONE
Chasyn opened her eyes slowly, wincing against the harsh light overhead. At first, her vision was blurred, but it slowly cleared. She heard the beeps of machines and then a nurse said, “Doctor, the patient is awake.”
An attractive woman in scrubs appeared at her bedside wearing a stethoscope and a smile. “You’re at St. Mary’s Medical Center,” she explained.
Chasyn’s brain throbbed as she started putting pieces together. “I got shot,” she said incredulously.
“You got lucky,” the doctor corrected. “The bullet entered the back-right side of your head. A fraction of an inch either way and you probably would have died immediately.”
“Kasey?!” she asked, reaching out to clutch the doctor’s arm. The action caused the IV in her hand to pull painfully.
“Your family is outside,” the doctor replied evasively.
Chasyn felt a knot of fear in her stomach as her mind replayed the events on the courthouse steps. The knot grew larger when her parents were ushered into the room, their faces etched with concern. She could tell her mother had been crying and her father, normally jovial, looked positively stoic.
“Baby,” her mother cooed as she carefully avoided the IV lines and brushed Chasyn’s cheek with the back of her hand. Her father moved to the other side of the bed and rubbed her arm. “We’ve been frantic.”
“Don’t be,” Chasyn insisted. “The doctor said I was very lucky. What about Kasey?”
Her mother’s mouth pulled into a taut line and her father’s hand went still on her arm. Chasyn felt a sharp pain in her chest. She and Kasey had been inseparable for the last sixteen years. They’d met on their first day of kindergarten and now worked at the law firm of Keller and Mason together. Both litigation paralegal specialists, they’d shared an office and often worked the same cases.
“Did she die?” Chasyn asked with a hitch in her voice. “Did she?”
“I’m sorry, baby,” her mother said. “They couldn’t save her.”
“Did they catch the shooter?” she asked as tears began to fall from the corners of her eyes.
Her father shook his head. “All the police are saying i
s that according to witnesses, it was some sort of drive-by.”
“Her poor father,” Chasyn said. “After losing his wife to cancer last year, losing Kasey must be a terrible blow to him. They were so close.”
“Her funeral is this afternoon.”
Chasyn blinked up at her mother. “Today?”
“Jewish tradition,” she explained. “They rushed the autopsy so Mr. Becker could lay his daughter to rest in accordance with his religious beliefs.”
“In one day?”
“You’ve been here for almost eighteen hours,” her mother explained.
“But I have to go,” Chasyn said as she started to scoot herself up into a seated position. The exertion produced an immediate, pounding headache.
Her mother placed her hands firmly on her shoulders and placed her down flat. “You aren’t going anywhere. You’re scheduled for surgery this afternoon to remove the bullet from your head.”
Chasyn fought back burning tears. She couldn’t imagine life without Kasey. Nor could she make sense of being shot. Or of the confusion spinning in her head. She’d obviously lost nearly a day. Her head hurt but the pounding acted like a metronome for her racing thoughts. First and foremost, her heartbreak over Kasey. How could they be chatting casually one second and the next second be gunned down? And, she felt with a measure of guilt, why had she been lucky? Why hadn’t she died and Kasey lived? Tears fell from her eyes. For the first time, Chasyn reached up and felt her head. There was a large bandage at the back of her head; when she felt her forehead she found a distinct bulge just at her hairline. With very little effort, she could make out the outline of a bullet. “Can’t they remove it tomorrow?” she asked. “I’ll go to Kasey’s service and then come right back.”
Her father looked even more concerned. Deep lines furrowed his brow. “Chase, the police don’t think it’s a very good idea for you to be out and about.”
She let that sink in. “I’m still in danger?” About a thousand scary scenarios flashed in her mind. Had it been just wrong place, wrong time, or was there some crazed killer after her specifically? Her whole body began to tremble as fear lodged in her throat and the tears kept coming. She wanted to hide under something or get as far away from West Palm as possible. She felt like a sitting duck in the hospital. If they think I’m still in danger, are they implying that the shooter is still after me? What if he comes back? That thought very nearly paralyzed her.
“Possibly,” he said. “There’s a police officer outside your room and your mom and I have agreed that we’ll take the extra step and hire private security for you as well.”
“You’re scaring me, Daddy.”
“Well, until they find the person who shot you, we don’t want to take any chances with your safety. I’m a pharmaceutical salesman, Chase. I don’t know anything about keeping you safe but I’ve hired the best in the business to keep you alive.”
“But Kasey’s service…”
“We’ll go,” he said. “We’ll pass on your condolences to Mr. Becker.”
“And I just lie here doing nothing?”
“The police and the state’s attorney want to talk to you and then you’ll have your surgery. They should release you from the hospital tomorrow.”
Chasyn felt an immediate sense of dread. Now that Kasey was dead, she’d have to come clean with the police and the state’s attorney. She’d have to admit that she’d been shot for no reason.
* * *
Declan Kavanaugh exited the elevator and walked briskly toward room 207. He saw an officer perched on a chair outside one of the rooms and figured that was his destination. He greeted the deputy and showed him his credentials. “I’m Miss Summers’ bodyguard.”
“Heard you were coming,” the younger, smaller man said. “She just got back from surgery. Go on in.”
He opened the door. The room was dimly lit; only the small light behind the bed was on. The woman in the bed looked small and vulnerable. Her blonde hair was fanned out on the pillow, giving her an ethereal look. Her eyes were closed but her long lashes rested against her cheeks. She had flawless skin. In fact, it if weren’t for the bandage at her temple, she would have been perfect. Only not for him. Petite blondes just weren’t his type.
Soundlessly, he sat in the padded chair at the end of the bed and watched her breathing. For a long time it was a rhythmic sound, then suddenly a small moan escaped her parted lips and she began to thrash.
Declan got to his feet, went over to her, and gently grabbed her shoulders to shake her awake from whatever nightmare was haunting her. She was thinner than he had originally thought; his beefy hands practically encircled her shoulders.
* * *
Chasyn opened her eyes with a start to find a huge man standing over her, trying to shake the life out of her. She let out a loud scream that reverberated in her head as she took her fist and punched him in the vicinity of his groin.
He let out a whoosh of air and his hands dropped away. At the same moment the officer who’d been guarding her from outside the door entered the room, flipping the switch to flood the room with painful light. The huge man was doubled over near her bed. Her pulse raced and she felt trapped in her hospital bed, with serious danger lurking nearby. Even the presence of the officer was of little comfort. At this point she was in a perpetual state of fear.
“He was trying to kill me!” she told the officer on a rush of breath.
The officer reholstered his weapon and smiled. “This is your bodyguard, Miss Summers.”
She was instantly awed by the man’s sheer size. He had to be at least six-four and his forearms were the size of her thighs. Then she looked up and noted he had the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen. Especially since they were rimmed in inky lashes that mirrored the color of his close-cropped black hair. The only flaw she could detect was a slight flush on his cheeks, no doubt a result of her punch to the groin.
She suddenly felt terribly guilty for noticing something like the shade of the man’s eyes when she’d just lost Kasey. Maybe the bullet did more damage than they were letting on.
“Oh, God,” she muttered, feeling her own cheeks warm. “I’m so sorry. But you had your hands on me and—”
“You were having a nightmare,” he explained in a deep, incredibly sexy voice that she felt deep in the pit of her stomach.
Chasyn thought for a few seconds and let the memory come flooding back. “It wasn’t a nightmare; I was reliving the shooting.”
“Miss Summers?” the officer asked.
“Yes?”
“The detectives and the state’s attorney asked me to call them when you woke up. They should be here in a few minutes.” With that he left the room.
“I’m Declan Kavanaugh,” her bodyguard introduced himself.
“Chasyn,” she replied in as normal a tone as she could muster. “I really am sorry for punching you in the…”
He waved his hand. “No big deal. So why did you look so horrified when the deputy told you the police and the prosecutor were coming?”
This guy didn’t miss a trick. “I’m just tired of dealing with them. I mean, look what happened. My best friend is dead. I got shot. And now I’m afraid of my own shadow because Dr. Lansing is still roaming free.”
“Lansing?”
“He’s a forensic psychiatrist. He killed the girl in the parking lot. Kasey and I were supposed to testify before the grand jury so they could finally arrest him.”
Declan stroked his chin. “And you think Lansing was the one who shot at you at the courthouse?”
She shrugged. “It isn’t like I have any other enemies. Neither did Kasey.”
“No jilted boyfriends? Stalkers?”
“Kasey’s been dating a guy on and off for about six months. Nothing serious. I haven’t had a boyfriend in two years and that relationship ended by mutual agreement.”
“Anything strange happen recently? Get the feeling someone was following you?”
She shook her head. “No one
following me, but seeing that poor dead girl in the parking lot qualifies as strange. I had never seen a dead body before. It was horrible.” Chasyn turned to look at the closed blinds covering the window. “And now Kasey. It seems surreal. Do you have any idea what it’s like to see your best friend gunned down?”
“Yes,” he said softly.
She was in her own world because Chasyn’s heart actually hurt. She was just devastated over Kasey. In her mind she saw a slideshow of their time together that felt as if it lasted an hour. Lots of laughter and deep conversation. Chasyn couldn’t imagine her life with Kasey gone. “It was different from the girl in the alley. A tragedy, but not as personal.”
“So you didn’t know the girl in the alley?”
“Casually,” Chasyn replied. “Kasey and I went to that restaurant often. She waited on us a few times. She was working her way through law school. She seemed really nice and—”
The door opened and in stepped two men. With a grimace she recognized the older of the two: state’s attorney Nelson Hammond. He was flanked by Detective Burrows. “I remember,” Chasyn said.
Hammond was a stocky, round man with a shock of white hair and a distracting moustache. Burrows wasn’t in much better shape; his belly protruded over his belt and his tie was a few inches too short. Burrows had a small notepad in one hand and a stubby pencil in the other.
“Good evening Chasyn,” the state’s attorney greeted. “I’m sorry about Kasey.”
Chasyn felt the comment stab her in the gut. “Was it Dr. Lansing?” she asked.
Burrows and Hammond looked from her to Declan. Burrows said, “Declan.”
“How are you, Hank?” he responded.
“I’m fine, but we need some privacy to interview Miss Summers.”
“Sorry. I stay. Client’s orders.”
All three men looked at her. “He can stay,” she said after a brief pause.
Neither Hammond nor Burrows seemed pleased but Chasyn wasn’t concerned about their territorial pissing contest. She was fixated on what she had to do. What she didn’t want to do.
Burrows, pencil poised, asked, “Can you tell us what happened yesterday morning?”
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