Part 1 (1/2)
Kiss Me, Kill Me.
by Allison Brennan.
For Toni McGee Causey.
Thank you for your unconditional love, support, and friends.h.i.+p, above and beyond the call of duty.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
Writers write in a vacuum, spending hundreds of hours writing (and rewriting) that we sometimes forget that after the book is done, there are many people involved in making that book the best it can be. Editors, the art department, sales team, marketing team, copy department, production, and more. I particularly want to thank, as always, my editorial team-Charlotte Herscher and Dana Isaacson. I am so blessed to have you both.
Other amazing people at Random House: Kate Collins, Scott Shannon, Gina Wachtel, Kelli Fillingim, and the production team. And Linda Marrow, who bought my first book for Ballantine. Without her continuing support, this sixteenth novel wouldn't exist today.
My agent, Dan Conaway, who must have been a diplomat in a previous life, deserves much credit for his support and advice.
One of the best things about being a writer, other than the love of writing, is talking to experts across the country about their pa.s.sion while learning in the process. I particularly want to thank Nathan Kensinger, photographer and journalist, for his amazing online photojournal. I spent many hours reading articles and viewing pictures, enhancing my love of New York City. Nathan also answered numerous questions about the many abandoned buildings and warehouses around the city. I took some liberties with his information. If you're interested in some of my inspiration, visit his website at: kensinger.blogspot.com.
A special thanks to Diane Lind for her wealth of information regarding tracking cell phones and identifying phone numbers. Also Wally Lind and his group of experts at Crime Scene Writers for answering numerous and odd questions about decomposition, missing persons, and jurisdiction. Any errors are mine alone.*
The Sacramento FBI Citizens Academy, which has been a continuing source of information and inspiration for many of my books, deserves a shout-out, particularly retired SAC Drew Parenti and media representative Steve Dupre, who always found time for my questions. I also want to thank the FBI Training Academy at Quantico for the time and information they shared during my tour in 2009. I hope to return later this year for further research.
A warm thank-you to Kirsten Benton, who won the use of her name in this book at the Helping Hands for Hank fund-raiser. The real Kirsten is nothing like the fictional character; only the name is the same!
And lastly, my family. My husband, Dan, for keeping the house functioning, bringing me Starbucks in the morning, and adjusting to my intense writing schedule. My mom for her attempts to keep me organized and being my number one fan and promoter. And my kids, for putting up with my deadlines and the haphazard meals that go with them. I am so proud of you all, and I love you.
*I also want to thank Teena Maness for her help with parole and probation issues in this book and the previous book!.
PROLOGUE.
The deafening music thundered through the warehouse, drowning out the howling wind outside and the raucous crowd that had gathered in this desolate spot in Brooklyn after midnight.
Any other night, Kirsten would be going wild on the dance floor until she collapsed from exhaustion or was whisked away by an unknown guy for anonymous s.e.x that left her feeling both exhilarated and ashamed. For months, she'd lived for these weekends, complete freedom, the chance to be someone else, but tonight she just wanted to go home.
What home? You don't belong anywhere.
The pounding music made her feel sicker than what she was drinking. She knew better than to drink from the bar, but she'd been so thirsty, and she needed something to take the edge off. She'd built up a tolerance for most of the drugs that flowed with the spiked punch, and she always brought her own water. Maybe it was her nerves, or the fact that Jessie had sounded so strange, that set Kirsten on edge. She wasn't even supposed to be here this weekend, but Jessie had begged her to come. And where was she, anyway?
A tall, skinny blond guy came up to her with the smile she knew all too well. She hadn't been in the mood for s.e.x when she'd arrived an hour ago, but whatever was in the punch had definitely loosened her up. The guy wasn't half bad, probably in college. And Jessie was late.
”You want to party?” he asked, his hand rubbing her arm.
”On the dance floor.”
He glanced skeptically over at the thick crowd. Not everyone came to the underground parties for s.e.x, though the night often ended that way. Most came for the drugs and drinking and music.
She laughed and took his hand, rubbing her thumb lightly across his palm. ”New?”
”Just thinking of logistics.”
Her phone vibrated and she almost ignored it. She looked at the number and saw a message from Jessie.
”Hold that thought.” She tapped her phone to see where her friend was.
i see u with that guy. we need 2 talk now. im getting worried. outside 10 min.
What was with the cloak-and-dagger? Kirsten looked around, but didn't see Jessie anywhere.
She replied.
What's going on?
”Hey, you want to screw your phone or me?”
”What's your name?”
”Ryan.”
Jessie sent an immediate reply.
plz, k, need 2 talk 2 u. im freezing.
”I need to talk to a friend first, then I'm all yours.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a full-body kiss.
He pushed her against the corrugated metal wall and pressed his pelvis against hers. ”You're hot,” he said in her ear.
She kissed him hard, his mouth different and unknown. The thrill of the moment hit her, and she forgot everything else. She forgot who she was, where she was, losing herself in the right-now, any-how moment. She smiled as her mind wandered, her body almost forgotten.
”You like that?” a voice whispered in her ear.
”Yes,” she said, though she didn't know why. Her arms were tight around his neck. Who again? Ryan.
Her phone vibrated. She shook her head to clear her mind, and over Ryan's shoulder she read Jessie's latest message.
Don't be such a s.l.u.t and meet me outside. Now, Ash.
s.l.u.t? What did that make Jessie? But something was wrong. In the back of her mind, something wasn't making sense. But her head was foggy, and Ryan's hands were on her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s. How had he gotten so far so fast? She looked at the time on her phone. That couldn't be right. Had they been making out here against the wall for fifteen minutes?
She knew from experience that the guys at this party who came for s.e.x weren't easily put off, and her promise to return wouldn't mean anything to him. What if Jessie was in trouble? She'd been acting so weird, and calling her Friday morning had been so not like her ...
Ash.