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ALSO BY BARBARA FREETHY

Mystery Thriller Standalones

ALL THE PRETTY PEOPLE

LAST ONE TO KNOW

Romantic Suspense

Off the Grid: FBI Series

PERILOUS TRUST

RECKLESS WHISPER

DESPERATE PLAY

ELUSIVE PROMISE

DANGEROUS CHOICE

RUTHLESS CROSS

CRITICAL DOUBT

FEARLESS PURSUIT

DARING DECEPTION

RISKY BARGAIN

PERFECT TARGET

Suspense Duos

SILENT RUN

SILENT FALL

TAKEN

PLAYED

Lightning Strikes Trilogy

BEAUTIFUL STORM

LIGHTNING LINGERS

SUMMER RAIN

Standalone Novels

ALL SHE EVER WANTED

DON’T SAY A WORD

GOLDEN LIES

SUMMER SECRETS

For a complete list of books, visit Barbara’s Website!

LAST ONE TO KNOW - BLURB

It was an ordinary day when I got the call from the hospital. A nurse told me that my mother had been shot, that she might be dying. This could be my last chance to see her, to say goodbye. I needed to go to San Francisco immediately.

I was stunned by the news. It had to be a terrible mistake. My mother had died twenty years ago. I knew the truth. Didn't I?

To find out, I'll have to dive into my mother's life, into her past and mine. But as I get close to the truth, the target moves from her to me…and suddenly her life isn't the only one on the line.

PROLOGUE

New Orleans, Louisiana

The weather had changed since I'd landed in New Orleans twenty-four hours earlier. There was a hurricane stirring up trouble in the Gulf, but it was supposed to miss the city. But even if it didn't, I'd be gone before the storm made landfall.

As I walked through the busy French Quarter on a Saturday night in mid-September, I wouldn't have guessed that anyone was worried about the storm. The bars and restaurants were full, with crowds spilling out into the street. The weather was balmy, humid at seventy-five degrees at eleven fifty at night, and I could feel the sweat beading up on my face, my dark-brown hair getting thicker by the minute. I wished I could leave right this second, hop in a cab, and take a plane back to my normal life. But normal had never lasted long for me, which was why I was here now when I should have been home.

I took a turn at the next corner, walking down a much quieter side street, where the music faded into the distance and the shadows grew longer and darker.

I paused in the doorway of a tattoo shop that was closed for the night and checked my phone. The last text I'd sent sat there with no reply, and my stomach turned over again. I'd been fighting fear and nausea ever since I'd left Los Angeles, ever since I'd lied to the people who loved me.