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Avery Hart narrowly escapes death after being attacked in the woods of Crown River.
Ten years later...
The body of a young woman is discovered along the path of a park in the same town. The killer is cunning and ruthless, but even the best killers make mistakes.
Fiona Wolfe, the second woman to be attacked, survives and reveals a potential link between the current killer and the attack on Avery Hart.
Noah Cotter, an ambitious new inspector, becomes drawn to the case when his curiosity combines with his attraction to Avery.
The dangerous search for truth appears to be muddied with each shocking secret brought to light, as Avery, Fiona, and Noah realize that when someone is deceived for too long, sometimes...
Lies Come True
Excerpt:
The whistling woke her up. It was a quick, unfamiliar tune that sounded joyful.
Pain shot through her leg, and forced her to roll over on her side. The path felt cold beneath her arm and leg.
“Help.” She whimpered out into the park.
Blood poured from where the bullet had ripped through the side of her calve. She cupped her hand over her wound and felt the warm blood coat her fingers. When she applied pressure, her hand jumped off of the wound, and she yelped in pain.
She wiped her hand on her shorts and strained her neck to look back down the path, toward the whistling.
She took a deep breath and yelled. “Help, I’m over here.”
Trees surrounded her, and as the sunset cast their shadows across the path, she could make out a dark figure. She scrambled to stand, and her leg burned as she eased pressure onto it. When she turned back, the whistling stopped, and the figure ran toward her.
Everything in her told her to run. Her foot hit the ground for the first time, held all her weight for a moment, and in that moment, the pain was worse than anything she had ever felt. She saw the dark figure from the corner of her eye, still shrouded by the shadows as it approached, and something swayed behind it.
She turned back up the trail, and pushed herself to go forward. The next few strides hurt less than the first. She picked up her pace, and squinted into the last of the sunlight, as her heart pounded in her chest. She took deep breaths as she pushed herself harder, confident that she was gaining ground, and when she reached a clearing by the lake, she looked back.
It was a man, or what looked like one, but his face was white. And red.
He lunged past the place she laid bleeding only seconds before with a rifle over his shoulder.
She turned before anything else registered, back toward the street she parked on just behind the bushes at the end of the path. She heard the footsteps behind her slap against the path, and when she looked back she saw the figure clearly.
He wore a mask and wild strands of dirty hair flew behind it in the wind. The eye holes were dark, but the face looked wrinkled, pale, and bloody.
She forced herself forward, closer to the road behind the bush. She watched a car drive by, and if she wasn't mistaken, it slowed before disappearing behind the tree line.
Someone pulled into the parking lot. Someone’s coming to help me.
Her leg felt numb underneath her weight, and she focused on reaching the car.
A repetitive animalistic grunt was added to the sound of the feet pounding the pavement behind her and the sound of a car door slammed in the parking lot. The rhythm her legs kept fell out of sync, and each stride was more painful than the last.
She looked over her shoulder as she started to limp, and in that time, she saw enough to make her scream.
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