by Regan Black
No. Only cutting off the head of the snake would do that. “It’s a problem that hides in plain sight,” Ana said, mostly to herself.
Her neighbors had been paid to stay quiet whenever any unsavory activity had been noticed. Anyone who tried to talk had been punished or killed, depending on the offense.
She’d worked hard to put that life behind her. “I’m going into general medicine,” she stated. “At the earliest opportunity.” She couldn’t keep fighting these demons, her survival instinct constantly at war with her ingrained need to help.
“Understandable,” Sally replied as if she wasn’t the least bit surprised. “Cases like this one take a toll. We’ll both still see it. Some things shape us and alter our vision permanently.”
“Yes, you’re right,” Ana agreed. She doubted she could stop looking over her shoulder, checking the edges of every view for the next threat.
“So when you see it, call me?” Sally handed her a business card.
Ana trailed a finger over the embossed stamp of the FBI. “I will.”
“One more thing,” Sally said, dropping into the wheelchair. “You can talk to me anytime, Dr. Perez. About what we’ve seen this week or anything else.”
Oh, how Ana wished that was true. “Thank you.”
“Everyone needs a friend, no matter how career-oriented we are.”
“You’re right.” It was a practical, healthy outlook. One Ana knew she should find a way to implement. With trust came risk and that she couldn’t afford, not even with a heroic potential-friend like Sally Palmer.
Old habits, ingrained by the need to survive, couldn’t be broken now.
One wrong word, overheard or misinterpreted, could end more than her career. Her freedom, her life, were on the line.
“I will keep your number,” Ana replied honestly. “And you’ll hear from me if more trafficked women come through the hospital.” Hopefully she’d be on to her own practice before the FBI or a task force made another bust like this one.
She wheeled Agent Palmer out of the hospital to the waiting car driven by her partner.
Taking the empty wheelchair back inside the building, Ana tucked the business card into her pocket. She’d add the name and number to the list tucked away in her office at the first opportunity.
That way, if by some bargain with the devil, her past came to light and she was found, someone who understood the ramifications could mete out justice.
It wasn’t a perfect plan. Then again, she’d yet to find a plan, a place, or a position that offered pure, peaceful perfection and room to heal.
She’d just have to keep looking.
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Follow Ana’s Story in Shutter Lake:
what she knew, Book 4
Enjoy this Sneak Peek of BREAKDOWN, Book 4,
what she knew by Regan Black
©2018
Chapter One
Sunday October 14
Her house of cards was swaying. About to topple.
Dr. Luciana Perez sat in her home office, her chair turned toward the gray, rainy evening on the other side of the window. The vibrant fall color of the trees behind her house had been muted by the weather as well as her mood. On the desk, her cell phone chimed with yet another text message alert and she ignored it, her courage momentarily failing her.
She’d heard the news via text an hour ago and she had yet to shake off the chill that washed over her. A young woman, stripped to the waist, had been pulled from the river. The body was not immediately recognizable, thanks to the natural course of decomposition, but she could almost hear the name in the ping and patter of raindrops against the glass: Josie Rodriguez.
Ana had never been more grateful that her scope of work at the Shutter Lake Medical Clinic didn’t include serving as the coroner.
The text message notifying her about the body had been from her friend Dana Perkins. Dana, a superb psychologist and principal of Shutter Lake School, had been worried about Josie for weeks. Ana knew this wasn’t the answer Dana had hoped for when she asked their friend Julia Ford, a former investigative reporter to look into the girl’s disappearance.
Maybe it wasn’t Josie after all.
If only. A bitter, half-sob slipped through Ana’s lips. If the remains turned out to be someone other than Josie, the tension and fear gripping Shutter Lake would only increase exponentially. She had a few patients who didn’t need that kind of stress exacerbating underlying concerns and conditions.
Some of the brightest minds in industry, technology, and banking had come together to build and develop this town, planting their idea of paradise in the gorgeous Sierra Mountains of northern California. From the school to the cutting edge medical clinic she ran to the commitment to the arts, Shutter Lake had been a slice of heaven. More than a home, here she’d found the peace and stability she needed to heal even as she engaged her skills to heal others.
She loved being their doctor, caring for the community as a whole. Her staff, carefully selected, had become a second family and a high-functioning team every bit as essential to delivering excellent care as the state-of-the-art equipment the city council provided.
Murder had changed that.
A familiar voice in her head urged her to run. Now, before she became the next victim.
Now. Quickly. Tonight.
But where could she possibly go?
At forty, with years of experience in private practice, her resume should stand on its own. But what if her next employer picked away the thin veneer hiding her past like old polish chipping off a fingernail? The world was becoming smaller every day and previously buried secrets were up for grabs. Sylvia Cole’s murder was all the encouragement Ana needed to tread lightly.
This position had been the equivalent of a lightning strike, the right opportunity opening up at the perfect time. The seamless combination of the well-equipped clinic, the stunning house, and the reliable support of a city council focused on encouraging healthy lifestyle choices was so rare as to be almost mythical. She’d been a fool to assume it could last forever.
As Dr. Perez, she’d often been praised for her medical brilliance and compassion with patients, but she’d done herself a great disservice by allowing her escape hatch to rust over. She rested her head against the cool window glass. After everything, it was hard to accept that complacency in the midst of a compassionate effort would be her undoing.
Seeking to calm her skittering nerves, she told herself it was only a problem if she survived the current crisis. Assuming the person who’d murdered Sylvia was also responsible for the disappearances of Josie and a missing FBI agent. If that person managed to kill her next, she wouldn’t be in a position to care what skeletons spilled from her closet.
She closed her eyes, well aware that she wasn’t ready to give up, give in, or die. Where did that leave her? Alive or dead, she couldn’t see a way that this situation ended well for her. That meant it was time to get proactive about either telling the truth or escaping Shutter Lake.
Her phone chimed again, twice. Someone needed her attention, needed her to put her own worries aside. Reminding herself she’d overcome enormous obstacles to reach this respected status in a community that cared for her as much as she cared for it, she rallied and picked up her phone.
Not the clinic. The message had come through in two parts from the deputy chief of police, Laney Holt. She was requesting an emergency girls’ night out. The second text specified the Wine and Cheese House and a later than usual time due to the circumstances of finding a body in the river.
Having three girls’ nights in one week was unprecedented. Clearly, times had changed in Shutter Lake.
A third message popped up from Julia. She and Dana would get a table and Ana and Laney were expected to arrive as soon as possible. Ana sent a quick confirmation.
Barring an emergency, Ana had no excuse to avoid the gathering. Deep do
wn, the wounded girl she’d been warred with the woman she’d become. This wasn’t the time to give in to old fears. Laney, the only member of the Shutter Lake PD with experience investigating murder, had been diligently working to find Sylvia’s killer. If she could overcome the trauma that drove her to leave a good career as a detective with the Los Angeles PD, Ana could pull herself together and be supportive.
Here in Shutter Lake, she’d learned that’s what friends did. Support, listen, nurture. Friends had been a rare commodity in Ana’s life and it still surprised her that she had four—no, three. Sylvia was dead. God, she missed her. Her heart felt sluggish whenever Sylvia came to mind and these days, with a murderer on the loose, it was impossible to think of anything else.
The younger woman had been born and raised here and grown into a vibrant, vital part of the community. And she’d gone out of her way to welcome Ana. They’d bonded over their mutually fierce independence and love of chocolate. In Sylvia, she’d found a confidant she’d never dared to hope for.
Still, to have three women in that treasured category of friendship was a big accomplishment considering where she’d started.
Naturally the discovery of a second body, another young woman, would affect everyone in town as the news spread. Shutter Lake had been shocked when Sylvia, a respected entrepreneur, creator and owner of Sparkle cleaning service, was found murdered in her home. Sylvia’s parents were devastated and her father kept upping the reward for any information leading to justice for his daughter.
But Ana’s friends would be taking this discovery harder than most in town, for vastly different reasons. All four of them had settled in Shutter Lake, choosing lucrative, lower-stress jobs that allowed them to hide and heal from tragedy-laden pasts.
Laney had found a measure of peace in the slower pace of Shutter Lake after devastating events during the case that was her last with the LAPD. Dana arrived eager to move forward and determined to serve faculty and students here after losing four of her Kindergarten students during a school shooting in Phoenix. Julia still dealt with lingering panic and aftershocks, especially this time of year. While following a story on the Jack o’ Lantern serial killer of Chicago, she’d been kidnapped by the monster and only escaped by killing him.
As their primary physician, Ana was privy to how those dreadful events impacted her patients. Having personally escaped a vicious start in life, she knew firsthand how the old memories could crop up and interfere at the most inopportune times.
They all worked daily to stay ahead of the ghosts haunting them. Having friends to be open with cast a light into the shadows, dispelling those ghosts.
Tell them.
Her breath stuttered in and out of her lungs and she quickly dismissed the thought. There were some things friends couldn’t change. Some secrets that, once shared, would only backfire and hurt everyone.
Sylvia’s murder was proof enough of that. She’d done more than keep her clients’ homes clean. She’d observed and discovered secrets ranging from curious to problematic. As far as Ana knew Sylvia had never once broadcast those secrets. Still, it was likely someone had killed her to keep her quiet. Although Ana had a vague notion about the killer’s identity, she didn’t have evidence to back up her theory. Laney needed more than speculation to close out this investigation.
Swallowing her anguish over losing a dear friend, Ana deliberately shifted her thinking toward her analytical side. Yolanda Cole, Sylvia’s mother was suffering from increasing grief and stress issues. In the days since her daughter’s body had been found she’d been to the clinic twice —once for chest pains and once for sleeplessness. Ana made a mental note to ask Laney tonight when the police intended to release Sylvia’s body. Yolanda and Zion needed the emotional closure despite the ongoing investigation.
Her lower lip trembled and she caught it between her teeth. Tears blurred her vision much like the rain blurred the view outside her window. She’d cried over Sylvia, privately, and would likely do so again. But not now when swollen, red-rimmed eyes would only bring unwanted attention from her friends. With everything they were dealing with, her personal grief was the least of their trouble.
Any minute now, Ana would be strong enough, clear-eyed enough to drive back into town, passing by Sylvia’s house still marred with crime scene tape, to meet her friends.
She took a deep breath. And another. Striding out of her office, she paused in the hall bath and brushed her hair, pulling it back into a sleek ponytail, dabbing a little gloss onto her lips. At the hall tree by the front door, she dropped her phone into her purse and unhooked her keys from the leather tab that held them. Staying organized kept her calm. That calm had carried her through the highs and lows of remaking her life.
Setting her alarm system and activating the cameras inside and out, she headed for her car. Her cell phone hummed with a message just before she turned from her drive to Olive Tree Lane. A little ashamed that she hoped it was an emergency, she braked and grabbed the phone to check.
The text message was from Dana, suggesting she hurry if she wanted any of the stuffed mushrooms. Amused, Ana felt her lips curl and her heart lift. Leave it to Dana to say just the right thing, whether she knew it or not. The woman had a gift and it was a pleasure to coordinate with such a talented professional when a patient needed both of them.
When Ana reached the restaurant, decorated with the seasonal golds and ambers of fall, she was steadier and grateful for it. The three women had a glass of her favorite wine waiting for her as she slid into the booth to join them. Yes, friends were a treasure.
She looked at each of them in turn, soaking up the glow of happiness that she’d found a place to belong. Even if it couldn’t last, she wouldn’t toss away such a rare joy in the midst of an emotion-ridden crisis. Changing names to protect the innocent didn’t make her any less their friend.
“You okay?” Dana asked.
“Great,” she lied smoothly.
Julia nudged the plate with one lone stuffed mushroom closer to her. “Long day?”
“Not as long as yours,” Ana replied. She was pleased to see they’d all taken the time to change into warm, dry clothing before coming back out tonight. None of them were showing typical cold symptoms, but if she could make it easier on them she would.
She patted her purse. “I stopped by the clinic and picked up some cold medicine samples. It wasn’t the best day to be outside for hours on end.” Taking care of the physical was only one part of the equation in her mind.
“You can take the doctor out of the clinic,” Laney said with a wry chuckle. “Can’t take the clinic out of the doc.”
“We’re all happy to be alive enough to catch a cold,” Julia murmured into her wine. “Poor Josie.”
Laney shot her a quelling glance. “We don’t have an ID on the victim yet.”
Though the odds of them being overheard were low, Ana appreciated Laney’s caution.
“She’d clearly been in the water a while,” Julia said with a small shudder.
“Which makes identification more challenging,” Laney reminded her in low tones.
Ana kept her professional mask in place to hide her revulsion at the images that comment evoked. As the primary physician for an entire town, she’d quickly learned to hide any inkling of judgment over anything her patients divulged. Laney had proven equally circumspect with information regarding the investigation.
“Hopefully we’ll know something before the press conference tomorrow,” Laney continued.
“Usual time?” Julia asked.
“And the usual place,” Laney confirmed.
All of the press conferences since Sylvia’s death had been held in front of City Hall on Monday evenings at five o’clock. Based on what Ana was seeing with her patients, she wasn’t sure the gatherings were reassuring the community as much as the police department and city council hoped.
Laney raised her wine glass to her lips. With her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, her unframed face app
eared far too young for the horrors she’d seen along the way.
“I really wish I could have identified her,” Dana murmured, staring into her wine.
Ana exchanged a knowing look with Laney as she patted Dana’s shoulder. “The officials will handle it. Soon, I’m sure.”
“Laney didn’t let me close enough,” Dana continued. “I get it,” she added, summoning a weak smile for the deputy chief. “I just wanted to spare the Windermeres.”
In their sixties, Katherine and Quentin Windermere had been instrumental in founding the town. They’d never had children of their own so they hosted exchange students every semester. Josie Rodriguez had stayed with them for a short time, diving into the community so deeply she even took a part-time job with Sparkle. Then one day, she was simply gone. Katherine had called the school to inform Dana well after the fact, explaining Josie would be absent because she’d returned to Venezuela for a family emergency.
“Her mother’s nearby,” Julia said to Dana. “And I’m sure there’s DNA somewhere between her room at the Windermere’s or even Sparkle. Right Laney?”
“You know I can’t discuss any details of the investigation,” Laney said.
“Right. You also know we’re here because you asked us to come. Between the four of us we’re practically a brain trust,” Dana reminded her. “Four heads are better than one and you need a solid lead.”
“True,” Laney allowed. She looked directly at Ana. “You knew Sylvia better than we did. Any thoughts on who wanted her dead?”
Tell them.
Sylvia had never joined them for girls’ night, despite Ana’s invitations and encouragement. Respecting that, she shook her head. “No one has confessed,” she replied. “Unless you’re asking about a specific patient, suspected of criminal behavior, confidentiality is still binding.”
Laney only pursed her lips.