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Chapters (39)
  1. NEVER DIE ALONE
  2. Books by Lisa Jackson
  3. Title Page
  4. Table of Contents
  5. CHAPTER 1
  6. CHAPTER 2
  7. CHAPTER 3
  8. CHAPTER 4
  9. CHAPTER 5
  10. CHAPTER 6
  11. CHAPTER 7
  12. CHAPTER 8
  13. CHAPTER 9
  14. CHAPTER 10
  15. CHAPTER 11
  16. CHAPTER 12
  17. CHAPTER 13
  18. CHAPTER 14
  19. CHAPTER 15
  20. CHAPTER 16
  21. CHAPTER 17
  22. CHAPTER 18
  23. CHAPTER 19
  24. CHAPTER 20
  25. CHAPTER 21
  26. CHAPTER 22
  27. CHAPTER 23
  28. CHAPTER 24
  29. CHAPTER 25
  30. CHAPTER 26
  31. CHAPTER 27
  32. CHAPTER 28
  33. CHAPTER 29
  34. CHAPTER 30
  35. CHAPTER 31
  36. CHAPTER 32
  37. EPILOGUE
  38. Teaser chapter
  39. Copyright Page

Even so . . . you don’t fit his victim profile. You are not the reason Zoe and Chloe are missing.

So she was back to her theory that Rick Bentz was the audience the killer was playing to. But even that theory was a stretch. Why not stay in LA and stick it in the police department’s face that he’d gotten away, that they’d imprisoned the wrong man?

After her meeting with Bentz she wondered if she, in her freaked-out, impetuous state, had come to the wrong conclusion. Hopefully. Then there was a chance the Denning girls were alive.

As she rounded a corner, she pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and checked her messages. Nothing. Selma had promised she’d call or text the moment she heard anything, so no news wasn’t such good news, contrary to the old saying.

So now what? Deep in thought, she slid her phone into her bag and found her sunglasses. The sun was low in the sky now, afternoon slipping into evening, the glare still bright, so she slipped the pair of retro Ray-Bans over the bridge of her nose. Calmer now, she contemplated her next move as she headed toward her car parked one street over.

“Brianna!” a male voice called.

Tensing, she hazarded a quick glance over her shoulder to spy a tall, rangy man striding her way, his hand raised to flag her down. “Brianna! Wait up!” Something about his face was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. He moved fast, closing the distance. Brown hair, straight and thick. A strong jaw. A jagged scar visible near his right temple.

Oh. Dear. God. In an instant, she recognized him.

Her heart beat a quick double-time and she chided herself for her reaction. The man jaywalking, avoiding traffic, was none other than Jason “Jase” Bridges, her first real high-school crush. Though, of course, she hoped desperately that he didn’t know that.

“Jase?” she said, forcing her overactive pulse to slow as a full image of him as a rebellious teenager came to mind. Three years older than her, nearly out of high school when she’d entered, he’d been a hellion her mother had constantly warned her to avoid.