“Jordyn Redwood’s Poison delivers compelling characters, intrigue, chills, dizzying twists that leave the reader gasping—then offers a perfect antidote: hope.”
—Candace Calvert, best-selling author of Code Triage and Trauma Plan
Don’t pick up Poison until you’re ready to spend all night reading. A plot that moves, characters I loved, tension that never lets up—this book has it all. Add in a heavy sprinkle of romance, and it’s perfect for those who crave great romantic suspense.”
—Cara Putman, author of Stars in the Night and A Wedding Transpires on Mackinac Island
“Jordyn Redwood has hit another homerun with Poison. What a joy to revisit characters from Proof and wonder if any of them would live to see the end of the book. Exactly the kind of story I love to read. High-octane suspense with a villain to hate and feel sorry for at the same time. I couldn’t put this book down and eagerly look forward to Jordyn’s next one!”
—Lynette Eason, best-selling author of the Deadly Reunions Series
“Jordyn Redwood has done it again—crafted a medical thriller that grabs the reader with the first page and doesn’t let go until the pulse-racing conclusion.”
—Richard L. Mabry, MD, award-winning author of the Prescription for Trouble series and Stress Test
“Poison is a riveting, fast-moving story filled with refreshingly unique prose and endearing characters. Jordyn Redwood won’t disappoint fans of Proof as she continues to prove her top-notch writing skills. She’s a welcome addition to the inspirational suspense genre and I look forward to book three in her trilogy.”
—Susan Sleeman, best-selling author of the Justice Agency series
“A fast-paced, almost psychological thriller that will keep you guessing until the very end.”
—Heather James, author of Unholy Hunger
“Intense and gripping. From the first swallow, Poison’s potent brew of medical, police, and psychological thrills won’t leave your system. The only antidote is to finish the book—which you’ll do in record time.”
—Sarah Sundin, award-winning author of With Every Letter
“Fabulously written medical thriller by a talented author who obviously knows intricately the world she’s writing about. With explosive twists and unexpected turns, it’s an excellent follow-up to Proof, from the Bloodline Trilogy. Highly recommended. I may need a sedative to keep me sane while anxiously awaiting book three.”
—Cheryl Wyatt, award-winning author of medical and military romance
POISON
Proof
Poison
Peril
Poison: A Novel
© 2013 by Jordyn Redwood
Published by Kregel Publications, a division of Kregel, Inc.,
P.O. Box 2607, Grand Rapids, MI 49501.
The persons and events portrayed in this work are the creations of the author, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Use of this ebook is limited to the personal, non-commercial use of the purchaser only. This ebook may be printed in part or whole for the personal use of the purchaser or transferred to other reading devices or computers for the sole use of the purchaser. The purchaser may display parts of this ebook for non-commercial, educational purposes.
Except as permitted above, no part of this ebook may be reproduced, displayed, copied, translated, adapted, downloaded, broadcast, or republished in any form including, but not limited to, distribution or storage in a system for retrieval. No transmission, publication, or commercial exploitation of this ebook in part or in whole is permitted without the prior written permission of Kregel Publications. All such requests should be addressed to: [email protected]
This ebook cannot be converted to other electronic formats, except for personal use, and in all cases copyright or other proprietary notices may not modified or obscured. This ebook is protected by the copyright laws of the United States and by international treaties.
For My True Love: James
Thank you for loving me.
And for Kira and Lindsay
May you also see your dreams come true.
Acknowledgments
SOMETIMES IT IS HARD to adequately express how thankful I am to those who have helped me on this crazy publishing journey. Greg Johnson, my agent and friend, thank you for navigating this road with me and helping me understand things about writing and publishing that I never learned in nursing school. I am blessed to have both you and Becky in my life.
To my experts who reviewed Poison for accuracy: Pat Gonzales and Melissa Houser for the psychiatric component and Karl Mai for the police aspects. Thank you for your time and talent. All mistakes are my own and not related in any way to their genius.
I do read a lot of nonfiction for research, so I want to acknowledge those books that I relied on heavily—particularly for Keelyn’s expertise as a body-language expert: What Every Body Is Saying by Joe Navarro and The Gift of Fear by Gavin De Becker. In fact, some of Lee’s definitions in the novel come directly from Gavin’s book. If you are a woman (sixteen years and up), I do think Gavin’s book is required reading. Also, My Lie: A True Story of False Memory by Meredith Maran, which delves into how false memories can be created. Maran’s book does have subject matter involving child sexual abuse and homosexuality, so a cautionary note to those who prefer not to read on those topics. Also, The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Hypnosis by Roberta Temes, PhD.
To Susan Lohrer, who I trust implicitly to read my words and help me improve them before anyone else sees them.
For everyone at Kregel—honestly, it is my honor to get to work with you guys. For the editorial staff who help make my books shine: Janyre Tromp, Becky Fish, and Dawn Anderson. Cat Hoort—you are a blessing to me and all the work you do to get the word out about the Bloodline Trilogy is greatly appreciated. Dennis Hillman and Steve Barclift who are always available for my questions. Nick Richardson for your fabulous book covers.
To SE Christian’s book club. Thank you for being a faithful group of early readers and helping me see the growth areas my manuscript needed.
A special heartfelt debt of gratitude to Candace Calvert, who has been a mentor to me on my writing journey. Thank you for your guidance and friendship. I’d offer to cook you dinner but I’d rather have you cook dinner for me!
To all my friends and family who support me and pull me back from the cliff just when I’m about to fall off: Marcella Shadle, Jen Loveland, Peg Brantley, Jenni Ackerman, Shellie Brandt, and Crystal Bencken. Thank you for keeping me sane.
And Mom, I’m glad you liked Poison better than Proof! Hope my readers will, too. Thanks for your love and support and for selling so many of my books.
As always—saving the most important for last. To you, my readers—thank you for your time spent reading my novels. Without you, this whole journey is worthless. I absolutely love to hear from you. Please e-mail me when you’ve finished reading any of my books at [email protected]. You’ll probably hear back from me personally.
Contents
Bloodline Trilogy
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
About the Author
Book 1 of the Bloodline Trilogy
Chapter 1
Monday
A COOL AUTUMN BREATH whispered at the base of Keelyn’s neck and drew her attention to the front door of the busy diner. The man who entered wove through the chairs, unapologetic as he bumped customers along his path. His pale hand laid claim to the red vinyl stool beside her.
“Is this taken?”
Her words caught in her throat as she tried to reply. In the void of her silence, the stranger leaned toward the counter and pushed his scratched, dented silverware into her space.
A clear move to establish territorial dominance.
Heat flushed her cheeks. Heaviness settled in her gut and needled at the peace she generally felt being in the place where she’d shared sweet memories with her mother and sister.
A mother now dead.
A sister estranged.
Keelyn pressed her lips together as she gathered her thoughts. “I’m expecting my fiancé.” His eyes pinned her, and she felt entranced by the unusual color of his irises. Like malachite with variegated ribbons of green.
Dark and edgy.
“How about I keep the seat warm for him?” He offered his hand. “Until another one becomes available?”
Keelyn glanced around the diner and saw no other empty seat. She accepted the gesture. His grip tightened around hers, emanating an icy chill that seeped through her skin and thickened her blood. Each heartbeat pulsed at the tips of her fingers. She pulled her hand from his with a tug that unbalanced her on the stool, and he grabbed her elbow to keep her from falling. Once he released her, she swept her hands over her arms to squelch the sensation of burrowing insects.
He seated himself beside her.
Keelyn’s eyes landed on the TV behind the counter. She motioned to the waitress to tease up the volume. A mother and her two small children missing—the story consumed Denver local news for days. Rebecca, Bryce, and Sadie, seemingly all kidnapped when she had gone to pick them up from school. No leads yet. Keelyn’s heart ached as she watched Rebecca’s husband break down in front of the news cameras and shove them away.
It echoed her own grief for those she’d lost.
She pivoted toward the counter and pushed the plate of cookies she’d made for Lee off to the other side, her attention back to the crossword puzzle.
“Hazel,” the stranger said.
Keelyn’s heart leapt. “What?”
“As in witch or the color of your eyes.”
She scanned the clues to the right side of her mostly empty boxes.
“Despair. Four across.”
Glancing back at the puzzle, she put the letters in place.
The pen she held tapped against the newspaper. The black print sharpened as her vision crystallized from the adrenaline. What was it about this stranger that caused her nerves to fire? She closed her eyes and sent a silent wish for Lee to arrive soon.
“Unholy. Twenty down.”
Keelyn’s eyes shot open. He reached around her to point. Did he understand personal space? This time, she didn’t engage him and slid an inch to the right, hoping he would pick up on her obvious disinterest in continuing a conversation.
“You’re a very confident woman.” He leaned forward and peered around her arm. She rotated her chin in her hand, looking at him directly. His deficiency in reading her body language annoyed her. Keelyn worked as a paid consultant interpreting nonverbal communication, and most people intuitively understood cultural boundaries.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you mark your answers in indelible ink.” He traced a finger over her filled-in squares. “You don’t think you’ll need to change any?”
“Why is that a concern of yours?” Keelyn put the pen down and creased the paper over it. At the footrest of her bar stool lay the loop for her Vera Bradley tote, and she reached to open the bag and slide in the puzzle.
A prickle itched at her ear as she waited for the jingle that would signal someone’s entrance from the front door. Hope edged at her elevated heartbeat that Lee would pop through and she would have a reason to ask this interloper to leave.
The stranger seemed unfazed by her question. “Captain Watson has been delayed,” he said. He pulled the tumbler of water the waitress left for him closer and twirled his index finger through the ice. Within the frigid vortex, his finger grew blue.
The tinkle of frozen cubes against the glass sent shivers up her spine. “And you know this how?”
“I know many things about Lee. About you, Miss Blake.”
Pressure swelled in her forehead as blood rushed to her head. Her thoughts raced back through their short conversation. Had she told him her name?
She massaged two fingers into her temple to counter the pain. “You’re a friend of his?”
“An old acquaintance.”
“How old?”
He sipped his water then pulled a purplish finger across his full lips to wipe the droplets away. “I’m surprised Lee lets you keep this little routine.” The glass clinked against the counter like a crack in a window. “Being a SWAT guy and all. The two of you meeting at this diner every week is predictable. It allows people to find you. Maybe someone you wouldn’t want to meet.”
“Is there a message I can give Lee for you?”
He twisted a ring on his right pinky. An eight-pointed star behind an hourglass. “Who said I wanted to talk to Lee? He’s detained because of me, so I could speak to you.”
Keelyn’s mouth dried. “He’s injured?”
“Physically, he’s fine. Homicides can have a nasty way of interrupting his day.”
“You’re responsible for a murder he’s investigating?”
“Never directly, of course. Did Lee ever tell you how he felt that day?”
There are instances in a person’s life where the words “that day” hold such significance that not another word need be uttered to clarify their meaning. Some of them are collective, like the day two planes took down the twin towers, and others are intensely personal moments.
Keelyn’s throat thickened at the mention of her life’s moment, but her concern for Lee’s welfare and the implications of this stranger’s knowledge edged over her sense of foreboding. “That day is something he doesn’t talk about.”
“You’re not curious about it? Such an odd beginning for a relationship. You held hostage by your stepfather. The slaying of nearly half your family. Lee playing a part in saving your life.”
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
“You never did tell me your name.” Keelyn’s voice shook despite her effort to stay calm.
He leaned toward her, a smirk playing across his face.
Cold fear shot through her. Each muscle tensed as his breath warmed her cheek, his lips inches from her ear.
His word whispered malice. “Lucent.”
Her heart collapsed as he pulled away. She closed her eyes, the memory always at the forefront even though the incident was seven years past. Her stepfather before her, the black hilt of a knife in his hand as he held the sharp metal blade against her mother’s throat. The panic in her mother’s eyes as her father spewed hate. Her younger siblings cowered in t
he corner behind her. The sentence her father repeated like a stuttering vinyl record.
I’m doing what Lucent wants.
Keelyn’s body shook as she remembered those few tentative steps she’d tried to take to stay his hand. The phone had stopped him.
A call from the police.
Keelyn swallowed hard. She gripped the counter as she turned toward her nemesis.
“Lucent isn’t a person. He’s my stepfather’s hallucination. I want to know your real name. I want to know how you’re privy to my stepfather’s psychiatric record. Were you in prison with him?”
“So unlike a deer to attack.”
“Tell me!” Her words arced above the quiet murmur of the other diner guests.
Several patrons within earshot looked their way. The man, Lucent, smiled and waved them off. He placed a hand on her shoulder, trapping strands of her brown hair and pulling her head into an awkward tilt. When she tried to shake him free, his fingers dug into her skin.
“I’ve left something here for you.”
“Lee is coming. I think you need to leave.”
“Raven’s daughter.”
She shoved his hand away. “That’s a sick lie.”
He clicked his tongue. “You’ve never met her. Your niece.”
His statement lent credence to who he might be, and Keelyn scoped the diner for a young child. What he’d divulged prior could be obtained from public sources. But the details about Raven’s daughter were slim. How did he know this information? How did a hallucination materialize into a person?
Unless he’d been real all along.
After her searching gaze only turned up twin boys tossing ketchup at one another, she turned back to Lucent. “How do you know my sister?”
He skimmed crumbs from the countertop. “Raven and I have been spending time together. That little girl of hers, cute as she is, has been getting in the way. I suggested we find her a new home.”
“Raven would never do that. She’d never surrender the child to anyone.”
“How would you know how she feels about her little girl?”
A slow ache crawled up Keelyn’s back to the base of her skull. The walls of the diner closed in. Lucent’s brazen forthrightness stilled her as she considered her options. Turn and run. Punch him in the face. The latter was her preference, but there was a voice within her, a presence that strengthened her.
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