EVA RAE THOMAS MYSTERY SERIES
BOOK 5-6
Willow Rose
Contents
Copyright
LET ME GO
Prologue
Prologue
Prologue
ONE YEAR LATER
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
TWO WEEKS LATER
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
THREE WEEKS LATER
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
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
THREE WEEKS LATER
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
THREE DAYS LATER
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Afterword
IT’S NOT OVER
Prologue
Prologue
Prologue
Prologue
Prologue
Prologue
Prologue
TEN YEARS LATER
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
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Dear Reader,
About the Author
Books by the Author
Copyright Willow Rose 2019
Published by BUOY MEDIA LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Cover design by Juan Villar Padron,
https://www.juanjpadron.com
Special thanks to my editor Janell Parque
http://janellparque.blogspot.com/
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LET ME GO
Eva Rae Thomas Mystery #5
Prologue
New Orleans, Louisiana
Prologue
“We’ve set up the perimeter, boss. Team’s ready. They’re just waiting for your go.”
Reed nodded. His pulse was pounding in his ears as the adrenaline rushed through him. His hands felt clammy, and he had to wipe them on his shir
t to get them dry enough. He couldn’t let slippery hands interfere with what was about to go down. He really didn’t want to have to do this.
“I just shot my dad in the head.”
That was the message that dispatch had received and passed on. A hostage situation, they said. A young kid who told them his name was Peter was in there, in that two-story house in front of Reed. With him were his mom and younger sister.
An argument had made the boy shoot his father. The boy had then called nine-one-one. He said he was standing inside the house with the firearm and that his mom and sister were hiding in the bathroom, that he had poured gasoline all over the house, and that he’d kill himself and what was left of his family.
“Please, don’t do that,” Dispatch had told him. “There’s no need. Stay on the phone with me.”
But the boy had hung up. Reed and his men were sent out to prevent a tragedy from happening. Reed wasn’t going to lose any more lives tonight.
Not on his watch.
The boy had told dispatch that it was an accident, that he didn’t mean to kill his dad, but Reed also knew that the guy was desperate and capable of anything if he was capable of killing his own father.
Reed wasn’t taking any chances. In his fifteen years as leader of the SWAT unit, he had seen his share of desperate young men. And one thing was certain; you never knew what they might do next. The fact that the boy had poured gasoline all over the house showed him that they had to be very careful with this one.
“I see movement behind one of the windows,” Harris said to him.
Harris had been with Reed’s team for almost ten years now. The two of them had been through hostage situations like this many times.
Not all of them ended well.
“Is there any way of getting in contact with the boy?” Reed asked and looked through his binoculars.
“Negative,” Harris said. “There’s no landline, and we don’t have any cell phone numbers. It’s gonna take a while to get them. Too long if you ask me. We don’t have time. We need to act now before he lights a match or shoots any more of his family members.”
Reed sighed deeply, but he agreed.
“All right.” He grabbed the radio and spoke into it: “Team is a go.”
Reed saw the silhouette of a person bobbing up and down in the window and wondered if the kid was performing CPR on his father. On the call, he had said that his dad was lifeless and not breathing. Was he trying to resuscitate him?
The shadow disappeared.
A pack of officers was creeping up toward the front porch. Three others came from the east side. Reed grabbed his PA, ready to try and address the boy, ask him to come out and surrender himself, giving him a last chance to end this peacefully.
But before Reed could place the PA against his lips, the door to the house cracked open. A figure appeared and emerged through the screen door and walked onto the porch.
Prologue
Peter James was in the living room when he heard the noise coming from outside his windows. Thinking it was just some of the neighborhood’s kids, he chose to ignore it at first.
He stared at the computer screen in front of him, where he was making a new gaming video for his seven-hundred-thousand followers who tuned in every week to see him play. He was in the middle of a huge battle when the noise disturbed him again.
“Give me a second,” he said to his viewers. “I have to go and see what’s going on. I’ll be right back. Probably just some neighborhood kids messing around.”
He let the video run and paused the game, then rushed to the front door and opened it. A white and extremely bright light met him outside the screen door, and he had to use his hand to cover his eyes. He did so while taking a step onto the porch. Suddenly, he was met with loud voices yelling from multiple angles.
Desperate and frantic yelling.
“Don’t move. Put your hands in the air.”
Peter froze. The yelling continued.
“Hands where we can see them!”
Peter felt confused. The light was still blinding him, and it was like a surreal dream. What was happening?
“Raise your hands!”
“Excuse me?” Peter turned his head very slowly to the left and realized that there were about half a dozen police cars, lights flashing, and more officers pointing firearms in his direction, including a shotgun and a semi-automatic rifle.
“Raise your hands NOW!”
Peter did as he was told. His arms shot straight up, his heart pounding.
“Face the house, back down your front steps, and walk backward toward us.”
Peter blinked, trying to get the information right and not make a wrong move. As he did his turn, the light blinded him so much he instinctively lowered one hand toward his waist.
That would prove to be fatal.
The shot came from behind the white light and blasted through his chest with such force his body was slung backward, back through the screened door. The bullet ripped through his heart and killed him instantly.
He didn’t even hear his mother’s terrified screams coming from inside the house.
ONE YEAR LATER
Books-A-Million, New Jersey
Chapter 1
“He refuses to do it.”
“Let me talk to him.”
Liam overheard them talking and smiled secretively as his agent, Ben, came toward him. He could see Ben was grinding his teeth as he walked. Liam pretended to be listening to the dolled-up woman in her high stilettos and pretended to not feel sick from her overpowering perfume or her thick layer of make-up. He considered commenting on it, putting a little insult into some sarcasm or a joke and seeing how she reacted.
Just for fun.
Here comes the smile. Come on, Ben; put on the smile.
And there it was. Ben clenched his fists one more time, then looked up, and as his eyes met Liam’s, he smiled.
A smile so phony that Hollywood should be calling soon.
Liam chuckled and shook his head. Sensing that she was being ignored, the dolled-up woman slipped away quietly.
“You do know that a genuine smile doesn’t show the bottom teeth, right?” Liam said and sipped his champagne. The bookstore had provided it for him as he had demanded they did like he demanded every bookstore did if they wanted him to come to their insignificant place and attract a crowd.
“You’re a son-of-a-gun, you know that, right?” Ben said, speaking with a low voice.
“I do,” Liam answered as he lifted his glass at a woman who made eyes at him while passing by. “It’s part of my charm, remember? It’s why they love me so much.”
“Don’t sleep with anyone here,” Ben said. “And please…for Christ sakes, just do what they expect you to. The publishing house wants you to do this tour, and it’s the last God darn book signing. We’ve been all over the country for the past several weeks. Just sit in the stupid chair, smile at the nice housewives, flirt a little, and sign their books. It’s as simple as that.”
“I won’t do it,” Liam said.
Ben sighed resignedly and threw out his arms. “And why the heck not?”
Liam nodded at the area where they had put his chair and table. It was surrounded by his books on both sides. A full-body-sized cardboard figure of Liam stood next to it, and a poster was hanging behind it, showing a picture of him in his chef’s uniform with a big knife in his hand. He looked ridiculous. But that wasn’t anything new. Everything about this entire charade was absurd. It was, however, his life now, and he had made an image and a career of it. They expected him to cause trouble, to act like a diva. That’s why they called him the Rockstar of Cooking.