Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

Pedal to the floor, heart in her throat, Felicity Shields raced along a dry desert road lined with sharp shrubs and twisted trees. Red dust ballooned over the hood of her car. 

Her eyes focused on her mom’s distant, lavish, two-story adobe house. Backdropped by New Mexico’s Sangre de Cristos mountains, the McMansion appeared inconsequential, isolated, and abandoned. She gripped the steering wheel. Why isn’t Mom answering? 

A series of chimes blared through her car speakers, startling her. Glancing at the touchscreen, she accepted the call. “Hey, Mae.”

“Oh, good. I caught you. Tell your mom I’ll be watching her speech online from my bed. This pregnancy is a killer. When do you take off?” 

She wiped sweat from her forehead. “We missed our flight.”

There was an ominous pause on Mae’s end. “What happened?”

What happened? Fee swallowed. “Mom was supposed to pick me up. She never showed. I called; she didn’t answer. I’m on my way to her place now.”

Another pause, this one punctuated by heavy breaths that reflected Fee’s own budding panic. “Your mom always answers when you—” The connection cut out and back again. “She once picked up your call during a CNN interview.”

True. So many people thought that call had been staged to show Mom as likeable and motherly during her trial. The truth was, she’d called Mom in a blind panic after having destroyed things with the love of her life, Brooks. In her desperation, she’d forgotten Mom had had the interview. “Look—”

“You’re cutting out.”

Of course she was; the service out here sucked. “I’m almost there.”

“Maybe you should call Liam? He does work for the Santa Fe PD.”

Ugh. She’d intended to tell Mae all about Detective McCheater at the conference, but with Mae on bed rest, she wouldn’t make the conference. A turn of the wheel and she bumped onto the brick-lined driveway. “I’m here. I’ll call you back in ten minutes.”

“I’ll—” Static. “—five minutes—.” Silence. “I call the police.”

She wanted to tell Mae not to worry, but, first, she’d have to convince herself. Mom was in great shape but older now. What if she’d fallen? Should she have called an ambulance? “Give me at least ten minutes” 

Mae didn’t answer. 

Fee fished her cell from the cup holder and glanced at the screen. Lost connection. Great. 

She hit the garage remote. Bay one didn’t open. She hit the other two buttons. 

Nothing. 

This was why Mom wasn’t answering. Something had happened to the power and, without the cell extender, Mom couldn’t make or receive calls. And, of course, the generator hadn’t kicked on. 

Relief loosened her tense shoulders. 

She’d told Mom she needed propane. For such a brilliant woman, Dorothy “Never Surrender” Shields was often absent-minded. Time to renew pressure on Mom to get over Claire retiring and pick a new personal assistant. 

Slipping her phone into the sleek pocket of her yoga pants, she flung open the car door and climbed out. A hundred-degree dry wind gusted blonde her hair into her face then out of her face when the wind changed direction. 

She jogged up the slate stairs. The back of her flip-flops thwacked against her heels, the loudest sound out here. 

Crossing the portcullis, beautifully landscaped with cacti and a splash of hardy wildflowers she inserted her key into the lock. Her shoe crunched on dirt and a shard of a clay pot. One of Mom’s planters was upended. 

Squatting down, she righted the cracked pot then cupped the dirt and deposited it and the largest shard back inside. 

Dusting the soil from her hands, she stood, turned the key, then pushed the bronzed handle. 

It didn’t budge. Fear hijacked her nervous system, spiking her blood pressure, sending cortisol and adrenalin to work. Had turning the key locked the already open door? 

Stop. She breathed deeply. There’s no reason to make a big deal out of it. This is so like Mom. The woman had once been protected by Secret Service, but now, she can’t even be bothered to lock her front door. 

Annoyed, Fee unlocked the door and readied herself to give Mom a piece of her mind. Then they’d eat breakfast because she was well and truly starving. After breakfast, she’d arrange new flights. Thankfully, they had some time. Mom wasn’t speaking until tomorrow morning, but she’d miss today’s afternoon meetings. Maybe she could livestream in.

Backhanding the front door closed, she tossed her keys into the metal bowl atop the foyer table. The swish and clink echoed down the stairwell, nearly drowning out a muffled grunt from below. 

Mom was probably doing her morning yoga on the lower deck. Letting her fingers brush the smooth iron railing, she headed down to the terrace level.  “Mom? It’s—” she worked moisture into a dry throat “—Fee.” 

Blinking at the change in light, she hit the switch.  Duh. No lights without electricity.

Flicking her sunglasses up, she let her eyes adjust. Long glass panels opened to a stunning mountain view. Outside those panels, chaise lounges sat on a large deck with a gas fire pit and an infinity pool. 

A heavy, metallic smell coated the air. Her stomach rolled as her vision adjusted. Muted mustard walls, colorful patterned chairs, tan leather couches… and Mom. 

Sitting on one of the couches, Mom had on a red mud mask. Unbelievable. “A facial, really? Today’s Friday. We’ve missed our flight.” 

She crossed the room. Mom groaned. The facial dripped into her eyes. 

Not a facial. 

“Mom!” Heart screaming, she slid to her knees. Bile rose in her throat. Her shaking hands skirted over her mom’s wrists. 

Wires? 

Blood.

So much blood. 

What was happening? What had happened? Had to stop the bleeding. 

Her mother made a sound—a protest or maybe a plea. Dark red blood gushed down her chin. 

An ambulance! Call an ambulance! 

Please let my phone work. She reached for her cell. Mom’s eyes rolled up. 

“Hold on, Mom.” Please, hold on. “I’m calling for help.” 

Shaking, she dialed 911.

“Ffff,” Blood shot from her mom’s mouth, landing hot across Fee’s lips. 

A swish of sound from behind then a shadow arm appeared across the couch. 

Terror seized her. Twisting away, she smashed the call button. A whistle of sound and a sharp crack of pain snapped against her head, dragging away consciousness.