by Lisa Jackson
Books by Lisa Jackson
Stand-Alones
SEE HOW SHE DIES
FINAL SCREAM
RUNNING SCARED
WHISPERS
TWICE KISSED
UNSPOKEN
DEEP FREEZE
FATAL BURN
MOST LIKELY TO DIE
WICKED GAME
WICKED LIES
SOMETHING WICKED
WICKED WAYS
SINISTER
WITHOUT MERCY
YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW
CLOSE TO HOME
AFTER SHE’S GONE
REVENGE
YOU WILL PAY
OMINOUS
RUTHLESS
ONE LAST BREATH
LIAR, LIAR
BACKLASH
PARANOID
ENVIOUS
LAST GIRL STANDING
Anthony Paterno/Cahill Family Novels
IF SHE ONLY KNEW
ALMOST DEAD
YOU BETRAYED ME
Rick Bentz/Reuben Montoya Novels
HOT BLOODED
COLD BLOODED
SHIVER
ABSOLUTE FEAR
LOST SOULS
MALICE
DEVIOUS
NEVER DIE ALONE
Pierce Reed/Nikki Gillette Novels
THE NIGHT BEFORE
THE MORNING AFTER
TELL ME
Selena Alvarez/Regan Pescoli Novels
LEFT TO DIE
CHOSEN TO DIE
BORN TO DIE
AFRAID TO DIE
READY TO DIE
DESERVES TO DIE
EXPECTING TO DIE
WILLING TO DIE
Books by Nancy Bush
CANDY APPLE RED
ELECTRIC BLUE
ULTRAVIOLET
WICKED GAME
WICKED LIES
SOMETHING WICKED
WICKED WAYS
UNSEEN
BLIND SPOT
HUSH
NOWHERE TO RUN
NOWHERE TO HIDE
NOWHERE SAFE
SINISTER
I’LL FIND YOU
YOU CAN’T ESCAPE
YOU DON’T KNOW ME
THE KILLING GAME
DANGEROUS BEHAVIOR
OMINOUS
NO TURNING BACK
ONE LAST BREATH
JEALOUSY
BAD THINGS
THE BABYSITTER
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
LISA JACKSON
AND
NANCY BUSH
LAST GIRL STANDING
KENSINGTON BOOKS
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
PART ONE - The Five Firsts
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
PART TWO - The Stabbing
Chapter 8
PART THREE - The Reunion
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
PART FOUR - The Unraveling
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
Epilogue
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2020 by Lisa Jackson LLC and Nancy Bush
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2019951393
ISBN: 978-1-4201-3615-9
Prologue
Laurelton Hospital
Now . . .
Beep . . . beep . . . beep . . .
The rhythmic sound of the monitor was soft and reassuring as nurse Alice Song stepped into the private hospital room and zeroed her gaze on the patient. The respirator was breathing for him, and there’d been no change in his condition. She’d allowed the three women in their early thirties into his room against everything she believed in. She didn’t trust them. Someone had stabbed Dr. Stahd repeatedly, and it could have been one of them. But the police officer assigned to watch over the patient, and the hospital as a whole, had made an exception to their no-visitation rule, mostly at the behest of Dr. Stahd’s father, also a medical doctor and a high-handed egotist if there ever was one.
The three women were pretty, to a one, apparently friends of the victim since junior high school.
Alice checked Dr. Stahd’s vitals.
“He’s doing okay, right?” one of the women asked anxiously.
“He’s stable,” Alice answered shortly.
“But he’s going to be all right?”
Alice regarded her suspiciously. The real thing, or an act? She was petite with light brown hair streaked with blond and enhanced breasts that made her look as if she might fall forward with a good clap on the back. The diamond ring on her left hand was worth a small fortune, and her Louis Vuitton handbag and Christian Louboutin heels shouted money as well; Alice had seen the Louboutin’s distinctive red soles as the woman had tip-tapped down the hallway. Nothing understated about that one.
“His condition is stable. Far better than critical,” the tall blond one told the shorter anxious one. She was the epitome of the icy bitch. The lawyer, Alice had heard.
“Who did this?” asked Anxious Moneybags.
The third one, who seemed a bit removed from the other two, said determinedly, “The police’ll find out.” She was a redhead, complete with freckles and pale blue eyes. There was something familiar about her Alice couldn’t quite place, but the steeliness beneath her words was unmistakable.
“Yes . . . yes . . .” Anxious Moneybags nodded, though it sounded like she didn’t believe it.
Alice glanced at the officer standing guard, who nodded at her, as if assuring her he was on the job.
She nodded back and headed out. She was almost out of ICU when suddenly an urgent BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! from the patient’s monitor brought all the staff to attention.
She yelled for the crash cart and saw another nurse already busting for it.
“Shit . . . ,” the tall blond muttered as Alice raced back.
Moneybags burbled, “What? What?”—then clapped her palm to her mouth as Alice leaned over the man in the bed.
“Get back!” Alice snapped as they hovered together. “Get out of here!”
They shuffled as one toward the door but hung there in a frozen clutch as Dr. Evanston and the crash cart clattered in.
Dr. Stahd suddenly woke on a gasp, lids flying open, mouth a wide O. He croaked out, “Dee!” before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
“Oh, my God!” one of the women whispered. The redhead, maybe. Alice was too busy to look.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” Moneybags again.
BBEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPP.
Flatline.
Ali
ce inhaled sharply as Dr. Evanston, sixty-five and hard as granite from his rigorous daily workouts, readied the paddles and bellowed, “Get those women out of here!” Alice whipped around and glared at the three of them, but they were already backing out through the door, practically stumbling over each other, herded by the police officer.
Immediately she turned her attention back to the man in the bed. His pallor was white, his skin icy.
Not long for this world, Alice thought. Sometimes she could almost see a silvery, gossamer death shroud descend upon a patient. It was a psychic gift she didn’t talk about to others.
But right now, Dr. Stahd’s handsome face was growing shimmery. A preliminary sign.
“Clear!” Dr. Evanston yelled again, swooping down to shock the patient with the paddles.
* * *
Ellie O’Brien stood just outside Tanner’s door. She wasn’t leaving till they physically pushed her out. Her ears still rang from his cry of: “Dee!” Clear as a bell. A confession, she’d wager.
But, of course, Dee wasn’t here. How could she be? Dee was in police custody, or being questioned by them, or just not interested in Tanner’s fate. Dee had never given a damn about him. Not really. She’d only cared about how he’d made her look good. As far as Ellie was concerned, it was only a matter of time before the evidence proved she’d stabbed him, over and over again. He was damn lucky to still be alive.
Her heart galumphed painfully. He couldn’t die. Not Tanner. The coolest guy in high school.
She regarded the scene beyond the open door in subdued shock: the team of nurses bustling about; the white-haired doctor trying his best to bring him back; the tubes and screens and wires filling the room . . .
Was this how it was going to end? Was this it?
A cold knot of certainty tightened inside her. Dee was for Delta, Tanner’s wife, known as “D” to her group of friends. Amanda, “A,” and Zora, “Z,” were standing a few feet away from her, waiting for Ellie to join them even though she was more a frenemy than a friend. Not invited to be the “E” of the Five Firsts.
Now Ellie pulled her gaze from the frenzied tableau inside Tanner’s room to regard Amanda and Zora. “She tried to kill him,” Ellie said with certainty.
Zora shook her head, her eyes huge. “We don’t know that.”
Amanda didn’t utter a word. The strong, silent type. She was a sphinx. Just like always.
Briefly Ellie thought of Carmen and Bailey . . . the “B” and “C” of the group since grade school. Those five girls had practically run West Knoll High School when they were students. They were the popular clique that had moved like a tsunami through the school, swallowing up anyone who dared defy them, leaving them bared and broken in their wake, like Ellie herself. She’d long ago recovered from the mean snub, had made her way in the world to a place of respect, but she would never forget.
“Are you going to be reporting on this?” Zora asked her.
“No,” Ellie said curtly. No, she would not be reporting. That was a sore point. But she would be investigating on her own . . . and she was going to start with Dee.
“I just thought—”
“Let’s wait till we find out what happens,” Amanda cut in.
The three of them then stood in silence, each wrapped in her own thoughts.
But all they could hear above the frantic efforts to save Dr. Tanner Stahd’s life was the ominous monotone of the flatline.
PART ONE
The Five Firsts
Chapter 1
West Knoll School
Fifteen Years Earlier
Delta Smith slammed her locker shut with such force that the sound reverberated down the empty school hallway like a gunshot. She slammed it shut even though her books and belongings were still inside. If she didn’t have to run the combination again, she would yank it open and smash it closed again. She was so angry she could spit. Or let loose a primal scream. Damn that bitch, Amanda! Damn that smug, cheating bitch. Her friend. One of her best friends! Well, no more. You didn’t steal somebody’s boyfriend and get to stay friends. Ever!
Delta swore a blue streak under her breath as she furiously tried to reopen the locker, messing up the combination enough times that she slammed her palm against the metal door and shrieked in total frustration.
How? How had this happened? Amanda knew Tanner was hers. She knew. They all knew. There were rules. And you didn’t mess with the rules!
Taking in and releasing several deep breaths, Delta was finally able to reopen her locker, her heart racing with fury, her breath coming fast, her face hot. She couldn’t stand it. The idea of going outside the school and running into anybody—because the whole school knew! They all knew!—didn’t bear thinking about.
She grabbed her books and purse and cell phone—her mom’s, because her parents didn’t trust her to not lose one of her own. “Be careful with it,” Mom had warned. Delta turned the phone on now and called home. “I need a ride,” she choked out to her mother. Outside the window at the end of the hall, the one that looked toward the parking lot, Delta could see groups of kids heading to their cars or their rides or starting the walk to their nearby homes.
“Thought Tanner was bringing you home.”
Tanner.
“No,” Delta said, steeling her mind against the quaver that wanted to infect her voice.
“Well, I’ve got a couple of things to do, so I can’t be there for half an hour at the earliest. Maybe you should see if someone else can drive you?”
The hopeful note in her mother’s voice was the last straw. “I’ll wait,” Delta answered, clicking off, then broke into silent, angry tears.
She moved blindly toward the girls’ restroom, where she locked herself in a cubicle to wait the half hour Mom had said it would take before she could pick her up. Hopefully all the other kids would be gone by the time she headed outside.
She cried silently for another few minutes, wiping the tears away with her right index finger as soon as they reached her eyes, infuriated by the sculptured nail of her pointer finger with the tiny red and gold flower painted on it. Just like Amanda’s. And Carmen’s. And Bailey’s. And Zora’s. All of the members of their group, the Five Firsts, the most popular clique in school. They’d all gotten the little red and gold flower on their right index fingers, their colors—the colors of West Knoll Grade School, where they’d all met and realized their initials were A, B, C, and D. They’d been friends with Ellie, too, then, but she was such a judgmental whiner that it had been Amanda’s idea to have Zora take her place, tacking on a Z for the First Five’s last member. Bailey, the peacemaker, had suggested maybe they could invite Ellie and be six, but the First Six? The alliteration hadn’t really worked, and Amanda had said no, and when Amanda said no everyone listened, because Amanda’s family was rich. Richer than Zora’s, even. The Forsythes had that swank house above the West Knoll River and all that property for acres, damn near miles, around it. Their class was supposed to go there next month for a big senior day trip and barbeque, and maybe overnight, if the would-be classmates’ parents allowed them to, with some of the faculty as event supervisors.
Delta choked out another sob. But how could she go now, with what she knew about Tanner and Amanda? Zora had caught them making out at her house last weekend after Delta had left the impromptu party early because she had to get up early and work at the store for her mom before school.
She hated the grocery store. Smith & Jones, the mom-and-pop place at the corner that her parents owned, formed from her dad and mom’s last names, Smith and Jones. It was almost embarrassing, even though all her friends loved to stop by and talk to her dad, who always gave them free stuff, even though Mom constantly chided him for “giving away your daughter’s education.” Delta didn’t much care. She planned to marry Tanner as soon as she could. They’d met in junior high, and all the girls had fallen head over heels for him, but he’d shined his smile on her. Delta Smith! Oh, man. She’d glowed under the attention. And she
could feel the way the other girls glared at her when they thought she couldn’t see. It was just so perfect. Tanner was so perfect. And he was captain of the football team. Quarterback and team captain with an academic scholarship to the University of Oregon. Delta was trying hard to keep her grades up and save her money so she could go to Oregon, too.
But now . . . all her dreams were dust.
Had it been thirty minutes yet? Probably not. She was loath to leave the bathroom. She looked at her blotchy face in the mirror and could have cried again. After turning on the tap, she cupped water in one hand and dabbed it on her hot cheeks with the other.
She was just getting ready to brave the halls when the door swung inward and there was Zora . . . with Bailey and Carmen, two peas in a pod. They were always together. The kind of best friends that make it hard to be with them. Even though they were members of the First Five, Bailey and Carmen could be the Only Two, the way they acted sometimes.
“There you are!” Zora declared. “God, we’ve been looking all over for you. We thought maybe you went home with somebody else.”
“Tanner was looking for you, too,” said Bailey.
Delta couldn’t contain the squeak of despair that squeezed past her lips. “I’ll bet,” she said bitterly.
“He was,” Bailey insisted. “I don’t know what happened between you guys, but he was really trying to find you.”
“Oh, you know what happened.” Delta could hardly get the words out. “What are you guys still doing at school?”
“Looking for you,” Carmen said. “And Amanda. We saw her leave with her brother.”
Delta held up her hands. “I don’t want to hear about her!”
Zora, Bailey, and Carmen all looked at each other, as if silently asking each other how to proceed. Delta turned away from them, filled with anguish. She heard Zora say, “Guess I shouldn’t have told you about them. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”