Breathe Your Last

Book 10: Detective Josie Quinn

by Lisa Regan

Genres: General Fiction; Mystery; Hard-Boiled; International Crime & Mystery; Police Procedurals; Traditional Mysteries; Female Sleuths; Noir; Romantic Suspense; Thrillers; Crime Fiction; Suspense

Synopsis

Josie presses her hands into the center of the drowned girl’s chest and pumps, counting off compressions. She takes in the girl’s beautiful face, her brown eyes glassy. Breath. Just Breath...

The body of a young girl lying face down in a swimming pool- white tennis shoes still on her feet, chestnut hair fanned out like a halo - is the last thing Detective Josie Quinn expects to find on an early morning visit to see her brother before class at Denton university. But when she recognises the girls face as she drags her limp body from the water, there's only one question racing through Josie's mind: how does a champion swimmer accidentally drown?

Nysa Somers' family are distraught. she was a model student, beloved daughter and everybody friend. There's no way she would do anything reckless enough to put her scholarship at risk, let alone her life. It's up to Josie and her team to piece together what happened in the hours leading up to Nysa's death, and that begins finding her missing backpack.

But the bag, discarded in the woods on a nearby campus, contains nothing more than empty food wrappers, Nysa's phone and a cryptic calendar entry telling her to be a mermaid.

The next day, a terrible housefire envelops the nearby home of a retired fireman, nearly killing his two granddaughters. The last words the little girls heard him mutter before he set the blaze were, be a match.

as the body count rises, it's only Josie who can see the delay pattern forming. Can she convince her team that the wrapper found in Nysa's bag is the crucial link their missing? Josie knows she must go it alone if she's going to stop this silent and calculated serial killer before any more precious lives are taken.

But with the killer finally in her sights, Josie takes a dangerous risk and finds herself hanging onto life by her fingernails. Can she trust her team to save her, and before its too late?

An unputdownable and totally gripping crime thriller from an Amazon, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. Perfect for fans of Angela Marsons, Robert Dugoni and Rachel Caine.

Everyone is talking about Breathe Your Last:

 "A brilliant twist… it had me well and truly hooked… a fantastic read!! I was captivated by the storyline right from the very first page and I couldn’t put the book down until I’d finished it… The story twisted and turned… I faced so many ‘what the hell’ moments as the action just kept coming!! Happily, I have to say I didn’t guess who was responsible and loved how it all cleverly fell into place! Each book of the series just keeps getting better!" Stardust Book Reviews, 5 stars

"Totally couldn’t put it down and read it in one sitting. It was full of danger, angst and turmoil and kept me guessing... It was great, a real page-turner… A bloody brilliant book that deserves 5 stars." Bonnie’s Book Talk, 5 stars

"A rollercoaster of an ending. I didn’t expect that twist in the end. I knew that something was off the whole entire book, but I didn’t know that is was going to be such a whopper of an ending. I would’ve never guessed it in a million years!" Blue Moon Blogger, 5 stars

"An absolutely brilliant book. I was totally gripped from the first page. Full of intrigue and psychological thrills. A really fast-paced book. The ending is a total wow!!" Goodreads Reviewer, 5 stars

Release date: December 9, 2020

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 278

Sample

The city of Denton flashed past as Josie drove her friend Misty and Misty’s four-year-old son, Harris, into the mountains on the northern side of the city. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees over the winding mountain road, making the Denton Police Department polo shirt she wore appear more hot pink than salmon-colored. The shirt—all of her work shirts—used to be white. Under her breath, she cursed her younger brother, Patrick, a sophomore at Denton University. The campus was close enough to Josie’s house that he often dropped by to eat or do his laundry.

Misty said, “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Josie muttered.

“You’re still upset about the shirt?” Misty said.

Josie glanced down at herself again, resisting the urge to curse out loud. “Not just this shirt,” she explained. “All my work shirts. I’m going to have to buy new ones!”

Misty reached for the dash and toggled the knob for the air conditioner, turning it up. The weather was still hot for September, even early in the morning, and Josie’s Ford Escape wasn’t cooling down as quickly as Misty would have liked, evidently. She said, “What was he washing?”

“Every item of clothing he owns,” Josie answered, “including a bright red T-shirt his boss just gave him to wear to work. He washed it separately and forgot it was in there.”

“Is he working on campus?”

“Yeah, he got a job with the university’s towel service—”

“Towel service?”

“Yeah,” Josie said. “Basically he is assigned to one of the athletics buildings to monitor towel use. He gives out clean towels, collects dirty ones, and makes sure no one takes any towels out of the building with them. Anyway, they just started wearing red T-shirts. He left in a hurry last night to go see his girlfriend and left it in the washer. Then when I washed my work shirts for the week, this happened.”

She motioned to her chest.

Misty eyed the shirt. “You didn’t check the washer before you put your own stuff in to make sure it was empty?”

Josie shot her a glare fierce enough to end the conversation. Misty turned away to look out the passenger’s side window but not before Josie saw the small grin on her lips. Josie thought about the offending shirt, balled up into a plastic bag in the back of the car. Patrick had called her just before she left to pick up Misty and Harris and asked if she could bring it to him on her way to the station. He was due at work by eight thirty. Josie would be cutting it close, but she fully intended to lecture him on the importance of not leaving any more bleeding garments in her washer. Showing up in her ruined police shirt would surely drive the point home. In the meantime, she had texted her colleague on the police force, Detective Gretchen Palmer, and asked her to bring one of her extra shirts for Josie to borrow. It would be a little big, but at least it wouldn’t be faded flamingo pink.

Josie’s foot pressed harder onto the gas pedal. The further up the mountain they got, the more discomfort tugged at her, causing a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I don’t like this,” she told Misty, changing the subject. “This place is too far out of town. What if there’s an emergency? It would take first responders at least ten minutes to get out here, probably longer.”

Misty rolled her eyes. “Josie, this school has the best Pre-K program in the entire city. I researched this.”

“What kind of ’mergency?” Harris asked from his booster seat in the back. Josie glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled at him. He grinned right back at her and she was struck dumb by his resemblance to her late husband, Ray Quinn, with his dimples and his spiked blond hair. After Josie and Ray had separated, Ray started dating Misty. Harris had been born after Ray’s death and, in spite of the initial tension between the two women, their love of Ray’s only son had united them in a friendship that Josie now treasured.

“Like the kinds we talked about, remember?” she told Harris.

Misty blew out a breath, her blonde bangs flying up and then landing neatly on her forehead. “Please don’t start with this again.”

Harris said, “Like what to do in a fire?”

“Yes,” Josie said. “Exactly. What do you do in a fire?”

“If I catch on fire, I stop, drop, and roll like a roly-poly bug, only a crazy one cause I want the fire to go out,” Harris said.

“Right! What else? What if you’re in the classroom and there’s a fire?”

Misty said, “Josie, seriously. I want him to have a normal Pre-K experience.”

Josie frowned at her. “And I want him to be prepared for anything that might happen.”

“Did you go to Pre-K?”

“No. Did you?”

“Well, no, but how many fires are there at Pre-K facilities in this city each year?”

Josie stayed quiet, chewing the inside of her lip. None, that was how many. She knew because she’d looked it up. She’d also talked to the city’s fire chief. As a detective with the city’s police department she had access to more information than the average citizen.

Harris said, “First thing is, I have to find all the exits when we get there.”

“That’s right,” Josie encouraged. “Now what if you’re in the classroom and a stranger comes in and you think that stranger might hurt someone? What do you do?”

“Josie!”

“I go to the closest door and get out and I press my alarm and then you come with Uncle Noah and make the bad stranger go to jail.”

Noah Fraley was Josie’s live-in boyfriend and a lieutenant with the Denton PD. His polo shirts had escaped the pink massacre.

Harris held up one of his feet and shook it, the shoelaces on his sneaker wiggling. A small, gray device about the size of a quarter but in the shape of a guitar pick had been clipped to one of the grommets. Josie couldn’t see it from her quick glance in the rearview mirror, but she knew the tiny orange button was tucked away along one side of the device. It was called a Geobit. It was a GPS tracker for children. Josie had researched about a half dozen of them when Misty told her she was enrolling Harris in school, but Geobit was the only one with an alarm that alerted Josie’s phone directly should Harris need to use it.

“Not all strangers are bad, you know,” Misty said.

“He knows that,” Josie scoffed. “I talked to him about strangers.”

“I know. I know you also talked to him about sex offenders and bad secrets and bad touch/good touch. I know you talked to him about abductions, and I also know that you showed him how to get into the trunk of a car to disable and knock out a taillight so he can slip his hand out and signal someone.”

“That was cool!” Harris exclaimed. “Can we do that again?”

“No,” Misty said.

“It’s always good to practice,” Josie said at the same time.

“Josie,” Misty scolded again.

Josie opened her mouth to apologize but then clamped it shut. She wouldn’t apologize for overreacting because she wasn’t sorry. When Harris was a baby, he’d been abducted. They’d been lucky to get him back alive. He had nearly died. Between that and all the terrible things that Josie saw in her work as a detective, it was hard not to be paranoid.

They pulled into the parking lot of Tiny Tykes Gardens Pre-K and Daycare Center. It was an old brick two-story home surrounded by roughly four acres of beautifully kept land. An asphalt parking lot sat in front of the building. To the right, Josie could see a gated playground. To the left was a large garden area with tables, chairs, and a small greenhouse in the center. Just like Misty, Josie had researched the place the moment she heard that Misty was thinking of sending Harris there. She, too, had been impressed by all the different programs they offered, including gardening, raising baby chicks, keeping a small koi pond, and generally learning how the environment worked. Josie hadn’t learned so much about the environment in sixteen years of formal schooling. She knew without having to look that behind the large building were more green areas including a small outdoor theater where the children could perform plays for each other and their parents, and a mini petting zoo that was maintained in conjunction with the Denton City Wildlife Rescue Association so that the children could learn about animals.

Josie also knew that the Tiny Tykes Gardens Pre-K and Daycare Center was in full compliance with their legal obligation to conduct background checks on their employees, so she knew none had criminal records. Also, no known sex offenders lived within ten miles of the place. Still, that did little to quell her uneasiness as Harris hopped out of the Escape and hoisted his green dinosaur backpack onto his shoulders. Josie took one of his hands and Misty took the other. He had a nervous habit, just like his father had, of squeezing her hand in rhythmic fashion when he was feeling anxious. If she hadn’t been holding his hand, she knew he would have been clenching and unclenching his little fist. Ray had done the same as long as she’d known him and now, even though Harris had never met his father, he did it as well.

Josie felt the pulse of his gentle squeezes quicken as they walked up the ramp to the front door of the school together. She mustered a bright smile for him and said, “This is going to be fun.”

He didn’t answer. Inside the double doors, the lobby was brightly colored with decorations that mostly seemed to center around learning the alphabet and counting. A few cardboard cutouts of animals stood along the walls. Parents and their small children crowded into the center of the area. Josie looked around, noting that opposite the front doors were two more sets of doors, each one leading down a separate, well-lit hallway. To their left was a wide set of steps leading to the second floor. To their right was a long, wooden desk, presently empty, and behind that, two more doors.

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

Misty said, “Honey, you’re squeezing my hand.”

Josie compressed and released Harris’s hand back in a similar rhythm, and he smiled up at her. She knelt down and smoothed the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “This is an adventure, remember? You’re going to meet lots of new people and learn lots of new things.”

Misty knelt as well, still holding his hand in hers. “You’ll get to meet all the animals in the petting zoo. You were looking forward to that, remember?”

Another smile lit his face. “I really want to see the goat.”

There was a commotion around them as a woman emerged from one of the doors behind the desk. She was in her forties, thick around the middle with an ample bosom, and dark brown hair pulled up into a bun on the back of her head. She wore a bright green T-shirt that said: Tiny Tykes Are All Right. She maneuvered through the crowd of parents and children until she was standing between the sets of doors leading down the hallways. She waved her arms like a flagger directing a plane to the gate. “Good morning, everyone,” she called. “Please form two lines. Two lines.”

Josie and Misty flanked Harris as they joined one of the lines. The woman introduced herself as Mrs. D. “My name is Eileen D’Angelo, but it’s easier for the children if everyone just calls me Mrs. D. I’m the director here.” Another woman emerged from the same doors Mrs. D had come from and took a seat behind the desk. Mrs. D pointed to her. “This is Miss K. She’s the school secretary. Anything you need, either Miss K or I will be happy to help.” Miss K looked a bit younger than her boss, but not by much. Josie put her in her early to mid-forties. Blonde hair, graying slightly at the roots, fell to her shoulders. She, too, was slightly overweight. Her T-shirt bore the same slogan as Mrs. D’s, but hers was a pale blue. She gave the crowd a wave and a bright smile.

Mrs. D went on for several minutes while the restive children tapped their feet against the wooden floor, tugged on their parents’ arms, and occasionally whined—the usual litany from children Harris’s age: they were thirsty, they had to use the potty, they were hungry, they wanted to go home. For his part, Harris stood still and silent, observing.

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

Finally, Mrs. D said, “It’s time to go to your classrooms and meet your teachers. If you’ll just follow me.”

But when it came Harris’s turn to pass through the doors into the hall, he froze. Misty and Josie tried to gently pull him forward, but he wasn’t having it. Three other families waited behind them.

“I’m so sorry,” Misty told them. She managed to tug Harris off to the side. She and Josie both knelt again and looked into his face. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to go,” he muttered.

Josie tried to keep her face neutral. She didn’t want him to go either. Since his birth, he’d only ever been in the care of four people: his mother; his mother’s best friend, Brittney; Josie; and his grandmother, Ray’s mother. She couldn’t imagine how scary it must be for him to one day just be thrown into a room full of strange children and left there with no trusted adults nearby. Josie’s own heart gave a quick double tap as Harris clutched her hand, squeezing it again rhythmically.

Misty must have seen the look on Josie’s face because she elbowed Josie in the ribs and grinned at Harris. “Who is the bravest boy I know?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!” Misty replied. “You’re also the smartest boy I know, with the biggest heart. You are going to make so many friends. It’s going to be so much more fun than hanging around with us boring old adults all day.”

He looked at Josie, who managed a nod of agreement.

A gentle hand closed over one of Harris’s shoulders. They all looked up to see Miss K smiling down at him. “What’s your name, young man?”

“Harris,” he said, barely audible.

“I’m Miss K. It’s good to meet you, Harris. Do you want to walk with me to the classrooms?”

He shook his head. Squeeze, squeeze.

Miss K smiled and lifted her hand. She walked behind Josie and Misty and leaned in between them so they could both hear her lowered voice. “If I can get him to go with me, you two can sneak out. He’ll never know you’re gone.”

Josie stood quickly and turned on the woman, pulling Harris slightly off balance. His hand tightened around hers as he got his footing. “I’m sorry, Miss K, is it? We’re not doing that.”

“Josie,” Misty said, straightening up and giving Josie a look that said, “Back down.”

Josie worked to make her tone less snappy. “What I mean is that we don’t believe in doing that sort of thing. All that teaches him is that the rug can be pulled out from under him at any moment. We told him we’d be here with him through every step, so if we suddenly disappear all he learns is that he can’t trust us. Also, how is he not going to notice? He’s four!”

“Josie!” Misty exclaimed, signaling that she had done a piss-poor job of keeping her tone in check.

“I’m sorry, Miss K,” Misty said sweetly. “We appreciate your trying to help, and I know that works well for some children, but we prefer not to handle drop-off that way.”

Miss K gave Josie the side-eye before smiling brightly at Misty. “Of course. That’s all you had to say.” Turning her gaze back to Josie, she frowned. “You’re that detective, aren’t you? The one who’s always on the news. Or are you the other one? You’ve got a twin sister, right? She’s a famous reporter?”

“Yes,” Josie answered. “My sister, Trinity Payne, used to be a network anchor. She lives in New York City. I’m Detective Josie Quinn, Denton PD.”

Miss K was unimpressed. Without a word to Josie, she moved around to address Harris once more, kneeling down so that she was face to face with him. “Harris, did you know that this is the first day of Pre-K for all the students in the whole school today?”

“No,” he said, voice barely audible. Squeeze, squeeze.

“That’s right,” she said. “And guess what? All of them are kind of scared because they’re going to be here with us and not with their families. You know what else?”

Again, he shook his head.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

Josie felt the vibration of her cell phone ringing in her back pocket and ignored it.

Harris didn’t look convinced. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. He leaned in toward Josie, looked up at her, and whispered, “What if my belly hurts while I’m here?”

Josie said, “I think if your belly hurts, you could tell your teacher.”

Miss K nodded. “That’s right. Anything that goes wrong, you tell your teacher and she’ll bring you out here to me and then you know what I’ll do? I’ll call your mom.”

Misty said, “And I’ll come right away.”

Josie’s phone buzzed again. With her free hand, she took it out and looked at the display. Patrick. Harris said, “That could be important. A police call. You should answer it.”

“I will,” Josie said. “As soon as I know you’re okay here.”

He gave her hand one last final squeeze and went over to Misty, looping his arms around her neck. “Can my mom go to the classroom to meet my teacher for a little bit?”

“Of course,” said Miss K.

“And you, too?”

Miss K clapped her hands together, delighted. “I’d love to!”

Josie swiped answer as she watched the two women escort Harris down the hallway to one of the classrooms. “Patrick, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m going to be heading over to the pool soon. That’s where they have me working this week. Do you know where that is?”

“Hold on,” Josie replied.

In the car, she turned on the ignition and found a napkin and pen to take down the directions Patrick gave her to the campus natatorium. She hadn’t been on the university campus in a few months, but it was labyrinthian, and it didn’t help that new buildings were being added with regularity. “I just have to drop Misty off at home first,” Josie told him.

As she hung up, Misty emerged from the Tiny Tykes building, striding toward Josie’s vehicle with her head down. Her long blonde hair hung across her face. It wasn’t until she got into the passenger’s seat that Josie noticed she was weeping.

“Are you okay?” Josie asked.

Tears streamed down Misty’s face. She took a big, gulping breath. “It’s just that I can’t believe he’s so big. He’s in school now. He’s just growing right up. I’ve never left him this long before in the care of strangers. It’s just really hard. I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

She reached over and took the napkin from Josie’s hand. Before Josie could object, Misty blew her nose into it. When she saw that Josie was staring at her, she said, “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Were you using this napkin?”

Josie managed a smile. “No.”

“Was it clean?”

“Yes.”

Josie put the vehicle in drive and pulled out of the parking lot, headed back toward the center of Denton. “Listen, Harris is a smart little boy,” she told Misty. “You’ve done everything you possibly could to prepare him for this.”

Misty scoffed and dabbed at her eyes with the crumpled napkin. “You’ve done everything to prepare him for this. I just spent the last three months telling him everything would be fine when I don’t really know that for sure.”

Josie reached over and touched Misty’s shoulder. “Of course it’s going to be fine. You’ll see. Do you remember your first day of kindergarten?”

Misty shook her head.

“Of course not. Because it wasn’t traumatic. The same will be true for Harris.”

From her periphery, Josie saw Misty raise a brow. “You’re just saying this because you gave him that alarm. That’s why you’re so calm.”

Josie shrugged. “Well, it does help.”

A few minutes later, Josie left Misty at her home in much better spirits. As she drove toward the campus, she used the voice commands in her car to call Patrick and get the directions again. Denton University was located high above most of the city, in one of its hillier regions. The city itself spanned twenty-five square miles. Nestled among several mountains, the center of Denton was set out in a grid pattern with a large park butting up against the edge of campus on one end of the city. A branch of the Susquehanna River snaked through the heart of it. Quieter and more private neighborhoods sprawled along the perimeter of the city’s historic district, leading out to the winding mountain roads that stretched like spindly spider legs to neighboring towns.

The campus itself was a maze of large brick buildings, beautifully landscaped courtyards and walkways, and blacktop parking lots that were far too small to hold all the vehicles trying to park there at any given moment. Josie found the flat-roofed red-brick building that housed the pool, and after following a line of three other cars circling the lot in search of parking spots that did not exist, parked illegally on the pavement in front of the building. This was only going to take a minute.

She snatched the bag with Patrick’s red shirt from the backseat and jogged to the front of the building, pushing through a set of glass double doors. In the spacious lobby, she was overwhelmed by the smell of chlorine. A security guard clad in a brown uniform sat behind a crescent-shaped desk. He was an older man with thinning gray hair and a wiry frame. Craning his neck, he looked through the doors behind her. “You can’t park there, Miss.”

Josie took out her police credentials and flashed them at the guard even though she was not there on police business. “I’m looking for Patrick Payne,” she said. “He should be working here this morning.”

Mollified, the guard hooked a thumb to his right. “Vending machines.”

Josie turned her head to see Patrick feeding a dollar into a vending machine in a cubby just off the lobby that was filled with various snack and drink offerings. He punched some buttons on the machine and then thrust his hand into the return slot, pulling out a granola bar.

“Hey,” he said as he turned toward her. “Thanks for coming. You have my shirt? I’m already late. Thank God no one got here before me.”

Together, they walked toward a set of solid blue doors on the other side of the lobby desk. Josie handed him the bag. As Patrick turned his back to push one of the blue doors open, he kinked an eyebrow at her. “Did Denton PD change its department colors?”

Josie glared at him. Tugging at her collar, she said, “You left your red work shirt in my washer. All my shirts look like this now, Pat.”

Laughing, Patrick pushed all the way through the door. Josie had no choice but to follow him. “It’s not funny,” she told him. “These are expensive!”

“I’m really sorry,” he replied.

The college’s indoor swimming pool, with its eight racing lanes, took up most of the cavernous space. Large windows ran along the upper walls around the pool. Sunlight streamed in, reflecting off the blue water and causing the air in the room to shimmer. Tile floors stretched around the edges of the pool, lined with benches. It was hot and humid, and Josie felt a sheen of moisture cling to her face almost immediately. Patrick turned in the direction of a hall that was marked with a sign that read: Men’s Locker Room. Josie pulled up short, her eyes drawn to the water. She took two steps closer to the pool’s edge and then panic blossomed in her chest.

“Pat,” she cried.

The woman’s body floated face down, dark hair fanned out like a halo around her head. Josie took in the details like the rapid-fire clicks of a camera shutter. The woman bobbed fifteen to twenty feet from the edge of the pool. Second lane from the right. White tank top, blue shorts, white tennis shoes. Josie commanded her legs to run, but it felt as if someone had flipped a switch, setting her body on slow motion. Everything in the room seemed to stop. The stillness of the water before her was jarring. Some frantic part of Josie’s brain howled. Her feet reached the lip of the pool’s edge. Air pushed into her lungs again. She screamed, “Get help!”

Then she dove into the water.

The water was shockingly warm. Submerged, Josie carved her way toward the woman as quickly as she could, some dimmed part of her mind flashing back to the floods that had devoured Denton five months earlier. At least now she didn’t have to fight a current or worse, a surge. Within seconds, she was beside the woman. Fitting her hands into the woman’s armpits, Josie turned her onto her back. Positioning herself so that she was cheek to cheek with the woman, Josie worked her way toward the pool’s edge. As she reached the wall, hands thrust out, relieving Josie of her charge. She recognized the security guard from the lobby as he and Patrick laid the woman on her back.

Josie climbed from the water and clambered across the tile. The guard’s fingers pressed into the woman’s throa. . .