Synopsis

She thought she could trust him. Until she became his prey.

Devastated when she learns why and how a brutal home invader murdered her parents, Kayla and her best friend Martin follow clues through Paris and into the French countryside — only to end up in the killer’s lair.

After tracking a clue to a mysteriously familiar French rural town, Kayla and Martin fight an attacker who launches Martin from a speeding train. Kayla refuses to believe he’s dead and in her grieving realizes that he’s become much more than a friend to her. But she knows she’ll be the next to die if she gets caught at the train station, so she runs. And she keeps running, at last finding refuge in a homeless community.

Her new friends help her escape, but when she follows yet another clue, she runs straight into the grips of men who have chased her down since she left her home in Arizona.

Can Kayla and Martin survive their misplaced trust, or will they become the next victims? And will their love survive with them?

No One to Trust is the bone-chilling Book 2 in the Kayla Walsh Mystery Suspense series. Buy it now to learn Kayla and Martin’s fate.

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Excerpt

Kayla Walsh had never expected to leave the safety of witness protection to end up in an abandoned Virginia missile silo. But here she was, following her grandmother’s silver-haired boyfriend, Vincent, through a cold and musty underground parking lot. Dimly lit wall sconces gave the place an eerie aura that added to the goosebumps dotting her olive complexion.

Her best friend and former physical therapist, Martin, touched her arm; his hand felt warm and comforting. As he walked behind Vincent, his size dwarfed their host’s lean, six-foot-two frame. He leaned down to whisper in Kayla’s ear. “Are you sure about this? I’m getting bad vibes.”

A mere five-foot-two-inches tall, Kayla raked a hand through her sleek black hair and whispered back. “You could go back home to Arizona.” Looking up into the dark eyes above Martin’s wide nose, she hoped he wouldn’t abandon her to finish their mission alone.

He swallowed hard and shook his head. “We’re in this together.”

She stepped closer in hopes his body heat would quell her shivers.

Vincent stopped at an elevator and turned toward his guests with a smile that deepened the dimples in his cheeks. His blue eyes sparkled with pride as he pressed the call button.

Martin stopped beside Vincent under a light that reflected off his shaved head and put a green tone on his latte-colored skin.
She stared at a logo on the doors that identified Vincent’s operation as a security business.

“I thought my grandmother said you were a rancher.”

“I have several businesses, dear.” Vincent entered the elevator. “My grandson runs the ranch. At my age, this business is easier on my tired muscles and bones.” He stepped into the elevator and waited for them to join him.

She tried to smile while clinging to a handrail during a high-speed descent farther underground. The sleep-deprived fog in her brain took her thoughts in a morbid direction. The tremble in her knees threatened to reveal her discomfort. Hoping to tamp down her growing unease, she bit the side of her mouth and supported herself against the wall.

“I’m looking forward to sleeping on the plane.” She hoped the words would coax her thoughts away from what brought her to this refurbished missile silo. After being chased down a dirt road by two guys who kept yelling things she couldn’t hear, a magnet attached to a helicopter had whisked her car to a metal platform. Her stomach stayed behind when the platform swished down to a parking lot where Vincent met them.
Beyond Bizarre. And nerve wracking. Rubbing her arms, she wished for a sweater despite the summer heat outside this frigid silo.

“I could use a nap, too.” A wobble in Martin’s unusually quiet voice amped up her anxiety.

The elevator door opened to another hallway with concrete walls lit by more sconces. A young man in tight jeans and black-framed glasses waited for them outside the elevator. Vincent introduced him as his assistant, Alex, who extended a hand that felt even more chilled than Kayla. She figured she’d get there if their stay in that creepy building extended beyond the few minutes she expected.

Alex’s bored expression made her wonder if his administrative duties were as mind-numbing as hers were when she worked for her grandmother at the Arizona home for abused women and children.

Vincent put a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “Kayla told me last night that your attacker at the Lincoln Memorial tried to slice your throat. Our nurse practitioner is waiting to treat the wound. Alex will take you.”

Alex led Martin down another hallway, leaving her feeling small and vulnerable. She stretched to make herself seem bigger as Vincent turned to speak to her.

About the Author

Karen Randau authors fast-paced stories with intricate plots, lots of action, and a dash of romance told from the point of view of a female amateur sleuth. She lives in the mountains of Arizona with her multi-generational family.

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