FALLING INTO A KILLER’S TRAP
Once she’d caught her breath, Lauren shifted on the hard ground and looked around. How had she fallen off the side of this hill but the hooded figure hadn’t? There was little more than a foot across between the trees and the sudden downward plunge. Had he or she simply turned suddenly, thus avoiding the drop?
The sunlight shifted and she saw something glisten. Lauren leaned toward it until she was close enough to reach out a hand and confirm what her eyes refused to believe. A thin wire was strung between the two tree trunks. She hadn’t tripped, her foot had caught on this wire and sent her sprawling headfirst over the embankment.
Lauren sat back, reeling. It was a beautiful day, the sky a shade of blue so bright that it hurt the eyes. It seemed impossible that something so hideous could happen on such a beautiful day, but she knew better. It wasn’t an accident that she’d plunged over the hillside and the hooded figure hadn’t.
She’d been lured here…
Books by Rebecca Drake
DON’T BE AFRAID
THE NEXT KILLING
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
THE NEXT KILLING
REBECCA DRAKE
PINNACLE BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
For J2 and M1
All my love
Contents
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Epilogue
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my agent, Evan Marshall, and my editor, John Scognamiglio. I’m constantly aware of how lucky I am to be working with such considerate yet shrewd members of the publishing world. Thanks to Diane Burke for her great copyedits and for the beautiful cover art of Lou Malcangi.
Many thanks for the help of my local Sisters in Crime siblings, especially fellow authors Sandra Stephens, Meryl Neiman, and Kristine Coblitz, for their perceptive edits and advice. Also, thanks to fellow members of Mysterywrights, including Mike Crawmer, Joyce Tremel, Jan Yanko, and Brian Mullen, for listening to the ideas and not being afraid to tell me when they didn’t work.
Thanks to Nancy Martin, whose boot camp for aspiring authors drop-kicked me toward publication and to J. A. Konrath, whose hands-on guerilla marketing workshops prepared me for any challenge.
Nat Drake, Margaret Hallisey, Avram Machtiger, and Lathrop Haynes were instrumental in the early plotting of this novel and the first one. Mary Alice Mertz answered many questions about teaching. David Axelson, M.D., and Joel Rosenbloom, D.O., offered valuable medical advice.
Thanks to the towns and people of Summit, Chatham, Madison, and Morristown, New Jersey. Their enduring charm and my own fond memories contributed to the fictional town of Gashford.
Thanks to my local offices away from home, Enrico’s Tazza d’Oro in Highland Park and Make Your Mark in Point Breeze. Great coffee, food, and conversation. And thanks to my office at the beach, Coffee Talk in Stone Harbor, New Jersey. I value that quiet corner booth.
Finally, thanks to my husband, Joe Mertz, for all his support, emotional, technical, and financial, and for our children, Joey and Maggie. None of it is possible without you.
Prologue
The shed was dark. She couldn’t see a foot beyond the door where she peered in, the murky shadows at the front giving way to deep black, hinting of strange things hidden in corners. It had an awful musty smell that reminded her of a dead mouse her father had trapped once under the sink.
“No,” she said, turning back to look at the others. “I don’t want to go in there.”
They were watching her with predatory
