Deadly Intentions Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Endorsements

  Half Title Page

  Also by Lisa Harris

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Epigraph

  Contents

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  Sneak Peek of The Traitor’s Pawn

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  List of Pages

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

  54

  55

  56

  57

  58

  59

  60

  61

  62

  63

  64

  65

  66

  67

  68

  69

  70

  71

  72

  73

  74

  75

  76

  77

  78

  79

  80

  81

  82

  83

  84

  85

  86

  87

  88

  89

  90

  91

  92

  93

  94

  95

  96

  97

  98

  99

  100

  101

  102

  103

  104

  105

  106

  107

  108

  109

  110

  111

  112

  113

  114

  115

  116

  117

  118

  119

  120

  121

  122

  123

  124

  125

  126

  127

  128

  129

  130

  131

  132

  133

  134

  135

  136

  137

  138

  139

  140

  141

  142

  143

  144

  145

  146

  147

  148

  149

  150

  151

  152

  153

  154

  155

  156

  157

  158

  159

  160

  161

  162

  163

  164

  165

  166

  167

  168

  169

  170

  171

  172

  173

  174

  175

  176

  177

  178

  179

  180

  181

  182

  183

  184

  185

  186

  187

  188

  189

  190

  191

  192

  193

  194

  195

  196

  197

  198

  199

  200

  201

  202

  203

  204

  205

  206

  207

  208

  209

  210

  211

  212

  213

  214

  215

  216

  217

  218

  219

  220

  221

  222

  223

  224

  225

  226

  227

  228

  229

  230

  231

  232

  233

  234

  235

  236

  237

  238

  239

  240

  241

  242

  243

  244

  245

  246

  247

  248

  249

  250

  251

  252

  253

  254

  255

  256

  257

  258

  259

  260

  261

  262

  263

  264

  265

  266

  267

  268

  269

  270

  271

  272

  273

  274

  275

  276

  277

  278

  279

  280

  281

  282

  283

  284

  285

  286

  287

  288

  289

  290

  291

  292

  293

  294

  295

  296

  297

  299

  301

  302

  303

  304

  305

  306

  307

  308

  309

  311

  313

  315

  317

  319

  320

  321

  Praise for A Secret to Die For

  “Lisa Harris has done it again! A Secret to Die For is a fast-paced romantic thriller packed with twists and turns. High-tension action and well-paced romance—everything you want in a romantic suspense—Harris delivers!”

  Elizabeth Goddard, award-winn
ing author of the Coldwater Bay Intrigue series

  “Discussions of faith and tragedy add depth and poignancy to an exciting, well-crafted tale of romantic suspense from veteran thriller-writer Harris.”

  Booklist

  “With her signature pulse-pounding suspense, Lisa Harris takes readers deep into the heart of fear in this race against the clock.”

  Family Fiction

  “Another skillfully crafted novel by a master of the genre.”

  Midwest Book Review

  Also by Lisa Harris

  SOUTHERN CRIMES

  Dangerous Passage

  Fatal Exchange

  Hidden Agenda

  NIKKI BOYD FILES

  Vendetta

  Missing

  Pursued

  Vanishing Point

  A Secret to Die For

  © 2019 by Lisa Harris

  Published by Revell

  a division of Baker Publishing Group

  PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

  www.revellbooks.com

  Ebook edition created 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4934-1776-6

  Scripture used in this book, whether quoted or paraphrased by the characters, is taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Published in association with Joyce Hart of the Hartline Literary Agency, LLC.

  For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

  2 Timothy 1:7

  Contents

  Cover

  Endorsements

  Half Title Page

  Also by Lisa Harris

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  Sneak Peek of The Traitor’s Pawn

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  Prologue

  Josh Solomon had barely slept in thirty-six hours. The call had come in while he’d been eating dinner with his wife. The body of a seventeen-year-old had been found in a dumpster on the north side of town by a store owner taking out the trash. It was days like this when he wondered why he hadn’t chosen a different career. But a decade of investigating homicides had given him one thing. A feeling that he was responsible for—at least in part—cleaning up the scum littering the streets.

  Still, he was exhausted.

  He flipped off the car radio as the news came on, relishing the silence. The last thing he wanted to listen to right now was another depressing news cycle. Olivia wouldn’t be home until tomorrow, which meant a night of playing the role of a bachelor. Not that he minded the time alone. As much as he enjoyed coming home to his wife, after the day he’d just had, he could use a couple hours to wind down watching some brainless movie and falling asleep on the couch.

  Five minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of their two-story home, reached up to open the garage with the remote, then paused. Two figures wearing dark hoodies ran out the side door of the house. His headlights caught a glimpse of the men as they hesitated, then took off running across the neighbor’s lawn and down the street.

  Without stopping to think about the consequences, Josh slammed the car into park, jumped out of the driver’s seat, and took off after them.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and put in a call to dispatch. “This is Detective Josh Solomon. I need backup immediately at my residence. Two intruders just ran out of my house, heading north up Washington Street.”

  He gave the operator his full address, then glanced back at the house, now second-guessing his decision to give chase in the dark. There were always risks with following on his own, and he had no idea if the men were armed. Reacting without a plan—alone—was always dangerous, but this was his house. Over the past couple months, nine houses in his neighborhood had been burglarized. So far no one had been hurt in the process, but these guys needed to be stopped.

  His internal debate ended. As long as he could maintain visual contact with them, he’d stay in pursuit. He’d ensure they knew he was behind them and let them tire out. If they tried to engage, he’d back off. He had no desire to escalate the situation, but whoever these guys were, he wanted them locked up.

  The scenario in this neighborhood had become far too common, but this time they’d messed with the wrong homeowner, and he was going to make sure their string of luck had just run out. The streetlight exposed their position, and he quickened his pace. Unless he kept close, the odds of losing them were high. There were a dozen places they could hide, or even turn the tables and come after him.

  Five seconds later, they vanished. Josh stopped at the street corner to catch his breath while he studied the surroundings for movement. A dog barked in the distance, but there was no sign of the intruders.

  He’d lost them.

  His phone rang. “Quinton?”

  “I just heard your call go through. What’s going on?”

  “Two intruders were coming out the side door of my house when I pulled up. I took off after them, but I’ve lost ’em.”

  “What about Olivia?”

  “She left yesterday for a medical conference. Won’t be back till tomorrow night.”

  “Don’t try to find them on your own. Go back to the house. See what kind of damage they’ve done. I’m heading to your place now.”

  Josh started back to his house at a jog, adrenaline still pumping. Something had been nagging at him ever since he’d arrived home, but what? He stopped in the driveway and stared at the front of the house. Then it registered. The upstairs light was on. Which wasn’t possible. Intruders wouldn’t turn on lights. Olivia wasn’t due home until tomorrow, and he knew he hadn’t left it on.

  He reached into his car, clicked the garage door opener on the visor, and felt his heart go still . . . Olivia’s silver Prius was parked in the garage.

  How was that possible?

  He ran into the garage, then opened the door into the house. “Olivia?”

  No answer.

  He checked his phone as he rushed toward the kitchen. No messages. No missed calls.

  But her coat had been thrown over one of the breakfast nook chairs where she always left it after work. Chinese takeout sat on the kitchen bar, still in the plastic bags. He breathed in the smell of garlic and seared meat and felt his stomach heave.

  Why hadn’t she told him she was coming home early?

  “Olivia?”

  The faint sound of sirens wailed in the background through the open garage. He hurried up the stairs while fear swept through him. If she’d been here when the house had been broken into . . . If
she’d walked in on the burglars . . . And why wasn’t she answering?

  This he knew—sometimes people died because they’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But not his family. Not his wife.

  He stopped at the threshold of their room. Fully clothed, Olivia lay in the middle of the bed like she was sleeping, her hair spread out across the pillow. A red stain seeped from her abdomen.

  He fumbled for his phone as he rushed to the bed. He needed to make sure they sent an ambulance. Needed to know if she was still alive.

  “Josh . . .”

  His heart stilled. “Olivia . . .”

  He caught the pain in her eyes as she continued. “They . . . they must have already been in the house. I came upstairs to change . . .”

  He grabbed a shirt from the edge of the bed, found the wound, then pressed the shirt against her side.

  “Don’t try to talk. You’re going to be fine.”

  With his free hand he punched in 911, praying he’d somehow be able to keep his word.

  “I need an ambulance,” he said once the operator answered. “My wife . . . my wife’s been shot.”

  “Sir, can you give me your name and address?”

  Numbness spread through him as he gave her their address.

  “A squad car and ambulance have been sent to your address. Where’s your wife right now?”

  “I’m upstairs with her, in our bedroom. Third door on the . . . on the left.”

  “Can you tell me where she was shot?”

  “In her abdomen. There’s blood everywhere.”

  “Were you there when it happened?”

  “No. I . . . When I got home, two male intruders were exiting the house from a side door.”

  “I want you to stay on the line with me but keep pressure on the wound. The ambulance is about two minutes out.”

  Two minutes? He studied Olivia’s pale face. She was the woman he’d pledged to be with through sickness and in health. To honor. To cleave to . . . To love . . . He dropped the phone, allowing him to pull her against him and nestle his face in her hair. He couldn’t lose her. Not this way.

  Olivia reached up and pulled on his arm, as she struggled to breathe, “I’m . . . sorry. So sorry. I came home early . . . because I needed to talk to you—”

  “Don’t talk. Just lie still. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Except he knew it wasn’t. Blood already soaked through the shirt and onto the comforter she’d bought last month.

  “I need you to know the . . . the truth about what happened. Why . . . why . . .”

  Her increasing struggle to breathe only multiplied his panic as he struggled to understand what she was saying. “Shhh . . .” He pressed his fingers against her lips. “You’re going to be fine. And we’ll catch whoever did this.”

  Sirens wound down in front of the house, the vehicles’ strobe lights reflecting against the mirror on the other side of the room. This was supposed to be someone else’s nightmare. He investigated the crimes. Husbands murdering their wives, crimes of passion, jealousy. He was on the other side, looking on.

  He wasn’t supposed to be the victim.

  A paramedic entered the room. “Sir . . . I need you to step back, out of the way, so we can help her.”

  Josh climbed off the bed and stumbled backward as they went to work. The walls were closing in on him. Why hadn’t he caught the men who’d broken in? There were no answers. Just questions about the nightmare he’d walked into.