Deadly Past Read online

  Deadly Past

  Verona Bay

  Katie Reus

  Deadly Past

  Copyright © 2020 Katie Reus

  Cover art by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

  Editor: Kelli Collins

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the right to resell, distribute, print or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload this book to a file sharing program. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  ISBN: 9781635561425

  Table of Contents

  DEADLY PAST

  Copyright

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Thank You for Reading!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Complete Booklist

  She lost everything once…

  Autumn Perez was just twenty-two when she witnessed a brutal murder and gave up her entire life to put the killer behind bars. A decade later, witness protection has her settled in picturesque Verona Bay, teaching art at the local high school. It’s a quiet life…until she’s caught up in another harrowing event and she worries that the US Marshals will try to move her again. But Autumn is done running—she’s built a life, has friends. And now she’s pregnant after an intense one-night stand with her sexy neighbor.

  This time she’s standing her ground…

  Lincoln Jordan has been biding his time with Autumn, his talented, gorgeous neighbor. The attraction between them is undeniable, and after their one incredible night together he wants more. But she’s determined to keep him at arm’s length. When it becomes clear that someone wants her dead, he steps up to protect her. He needs to earn her trust, and fast. Because the enemy is closer than they ever imagined.

  Dedication

  For all the dreamers, creators, and artists out there! Keep doing what you’re doing. You’re all changing the world one day at a time with your art (whatever medium that may be). Now more than ever, we need art and entertainment.

  Prologue

  Ana slid the cap off her Canon camera as she approached the next alleyway. She was working on a project for her mentor and boss, highlighting poverty around the area. This was her last night, and she’d already gotten some incredible shots. It was nearing midnight, and she was almost ready to head back to the studio.

  She’d been down here enough over the years—she’d spent a lot of time on these very streets because she and her mom had been homeless her freshman and sophomore years of high school. It hadn’t been an easy childhood but she was a hell of a lot more comfortable down here than most of her friends from college.

  At the entrance to the alleyway, she could see two men arguing, one man shoving the other up against the crumbling brick wall. Instead of using it as a shortcut, she turned back and continued along the sidewalk. She might be comfortable down here but she didn’t have a death wish. Violence wasn’t terrible in the area, but it happened. And if that was two addicts fighting over something, she didn’t want to be anywhere near them.

  The sidewalks of this particular street were in decent shape. The money center store and the pawn shop both had bars over their windows, but the barber shop and bodega didn’t. She waved at Mr. Sanz, the owner of the bodega—a man she adored. When she and her mom had been living on the streets here, he’d given them what he could, one of many people to help them get on their feet.

  “Ana!” He stopped sweeping and set the broom against the closed front door. “What are you doing here so late?” he asked, even as he answered his own question. “Still always taking pictures, I see.”

  She laughed lightly and nodded. “Of course.” On impulse, she lifted her camera and snapped a picture of the front of his bodega. Then him.

  He laughed in that genuine way of his that always pulled a smile from her. The man had been married for forty years, had five grown girls and was like a fixture here.

  “How’s business?” she asked.

  He lifted a shoulder. “Still paying the bills.”

  She grinned at his typical answer. “Good. I hear Ale,” his oldest daughter, Alejandra, “got promoted.” Ana didn’t know the specifics, just that it was something to do with the local District’s Attorney office.

  The smile he gave her could have lit up the whole street. “My girl will be running that office in a few years. We’re so proud.”

  “As you should be.”

  “We’re proud of you too. Hector tells me you’ll be famous one day.”

  She snorted softly, shaking her head at the praise. Hector, her boss and mentor, was always telling people that. She was simply happy he believed in her at all. “I just hope to be able to do what I love.” For her, art had always been a constant. Art and books, which were essentially the same things, just different mediums. Books and her photography had kept her sane during the tough years, taught her to see the world through a different lens. Pun intended.

  He made a scoffing sound. “Nonsense, if he says it, it’s true. I heard you graduated with honors. We really are proud of you. The whole neighborhood.”

  She swallowed hard as unexpected tears stung her eyes, but quickly blinked them away. “Thank you. I don’t think I’d be here if not for the kindness of you and others. I’ll forever be grateful.”

  Now he was the one who waved away her thanks, as if uncomfortable with it. Stepping back, he opened the door for a woman she recognized as a nurse. Must have just gotten off the late shift.

  “I’ll let you get back to it,” she murmured. “See you soon.”

  Picking up his broom, he nodded and followed the woman inside. Five minutes later, Ana let herself into Hector’s art studio with her key and locked herself in immediately. She wanted to expose the images from tonight, then head home and enjoy a long soak in her tub.

  She hurried through the art studio, able to navigate around the displays even in the dimness. In the hallway, she headed for the dark room, but paused when she saw movement flash on one of the security feeds as she passed by Hector’s office. He’d gone home hours ago but his security camera worked 24/7.

  She stepped into the office and bent over the desk, scanning the feeds. It w
as difficult to make out what was going on but it looked like someone was dumping something into their dumpster.

  She let out an annoyed grumble. It had to be the owner of the new Italian restaurant two blocks over. Over the last month, he’d been sending someone to dump all their old food here and other places on the block, instead of using his own damn dumpster. Well, not tonight.

  Annoyance spiking, she hurried out of the room and stalked to the back door. She quickly undid the deadbolt and flipped on the security light—which she’d told Hector he needed to upgrade to a sensory one. Whoever this jackass was, he was about to get a big surprise.

  As she stepped out into the alleyway, a man who looked to be about her age, likely still in college, was hoisting something—someone!—into the dumpster.

  Oh my God. Those were bare legs. A scrap of pink. Red streaking down the woman’s unmoving legs.

  Ana froze, her breaths sawing in and out as her gaze connected with his.

  He let go and the body tumbled into the dumpster. He stared at her, the dark depths of his eyes immediately filling with anger as he rushed toward her.

  On instinct, she lifted her camera and started taking pictures with the flash. She needed to blind him, to escape. To call for help.

  Flash. Flash. Flash.

  He let out a growl of rage that sounded animalistic as he sprinted for her.

  She turned and raced back inside, slamming the deadbolt into place right as a huge thump pounded against the door.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  He couldn’t get through the steel door, she knew that, but she still sprinted away from it and raced to the office where she’d left her cell phone. Heart racing and palms damp, she called 911 immediately. Calling the cops wasn’t normally her first choice but it couldn’t be avoided. Not now.

  “911 operator, how may I assist you?”

  “I just saw someone dumping a body! I need help. I’m at Las Olas art studio off of Berger Street.”

  The sound of breaking glass made her freeze. Had the guy broken into the front door? She hadn’t reset the alarm or anything. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!

  “I think he’s inside the studio,” she whispered, terrified.

  “Ma’am, I have backup on the way. They’re seven minutes out.” The operator’s voice was so calm, it made Ana want to be calm too. “You need to find somewhere to hide.”

  Ana remained quiet as she peered out of the office doorway. This door was too flimsy to lock and hide behind. She needed to get to the dark room—with its enforced door and deadbolt. She heard a thump and then a clatter of something skittering across the floor. Whoever it was must have run into one of their displays.

  Her heartbeat an erratic tattoo in her chest, she crept down the hallway toward where the security panel was. The cops might be on their way but something told her the only thing that might scare this person away was setting off an actual alarm. As she reached the panel, she pressed the only red button.

  Immediately the siren pierced the air, and she quickly ducked into the dark room, locking the door behind her. It wasn’t steel, but she could at least try to hide. Flipping off the dim red light, she crossed the pitch-dark room from memory.

  “Ma’am?”

  “I can’t talk now,” she whispered to the operator. She heard the woman say something but didn’t respond. She couldn’t make her voice work anymore, not when fear was clogging her throat.

  She hurried to a closet and ducked inside, pulling the door closed behind her. Then she tucked her phone into her jeans pocket and silently prayed. She hadn’t prayed since she was fourteen, but right now she figured it might help.

  She wasn’t sure how much time passed but it felt like an eternity as she remained in that small closet. The familiar scent of acetic acid overpowered most of the other scents, giving her an odd sense of comfort.

  The alarm abruptly stopped and she jolted against the door at the shock to her senses.

  She blinked into the darkness and the sudden quiet, then jumped at the sound of pounding on the dark room door.

  With trembling fingers, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Without the blare of the alarm, she could hear again, and it looked like the operator was still on the phone.

  “Police!” A commanding male voice called from somewhere outside.

  “Someone saying they’re the police are here,” she whispered into her cell. “I’m hiding in the dark room.”

  “They’ve secured the studio,” the operator said. “You’re safe now. I’m going to let them know you’re going to come out. Okay?”

  She shoved out a breath. “Okay.”

  Unable to stop trembling, she opened the closet and braced for an attack, even though she knew it was unlikely. She reached along the wall and stopped when she felt a switch, then turned it on. A soft amber glow lit up the room, giving her eyes time to adjust. There was no one there. “I’m coming out right now,” she told the operator.

  Time seemed to slow as she walked across the small dark room, everything about tonight taking on a surreal quality. She opened the door to find one man and one woman both in uniform.

  “Ana Diaz?” the woman asked.

  She stared, wondering how the woman knew her name. Had she told the operator? She didn’t think so.

  “You called using your cell phone?” the woman continued. “That’s the name that showed up on caller ID.”

  Oh, right. She nodded, her throat sticking for a moment. “I did. And yes, I’m Ana.” She cleared her throat, forcing herself to talk. “I saw someone on our security camera. A man. He was…he had a body in his arms. Did you guys find him? He broke in here.”

  “No.” The two shared a glance, then looked back at her. The woman continued, apparently the spokesperson for the duo. “But we did find a body in the dumpster out back. We’re going to need to talk to you about everything you saw. You’ll need to make an official statement.”

  She nodded, a shudder wracking her shoulders. The last time she’d talked to the police was when she’d found her mom’s body. “Of course. I took pictures of the guy with my camera,” she said, motioning to the Canon around her neck. “I can develop them for you if you need.” She didn’t want them taking her camera for evidence, but they could have the film. And a picture of the guy dumping the body would be a hell of a lot better than a description from her—though she could easily sketch his face from memory. It was embedded into her brain.

  Both officers’ eyes widened slightly even as they nodded simultaneously, as if they’d choreographed it. Their surprise was clear, but they liked what she had to say.

  “You can do it now?” asked the woman with dark hair pulled into a tight bun—whose nametag read Officer Ramos.

  “Yes. It’ll take forty minutes, give or take.”

  She quickly spoke into her radio, then turned back to Ana and nodded again. “Do what you need to do. Then you can make your statement. If we have a picture, we’ll be able to find this guy a hell of a lot faster.”

  “I need to call Hector, my boss. He owns this place.”

  “He’s already out front. He was alerted when the alarm went off.”

  Relief slid through her, knowing that he was here. He must have been the one to turn off the security system. “I’m going to lock the dark room so no one accidentally comes in while I’m developing the film. Okay?”

  Officer Ramos nodded. “I’ll stand guard anyway. No one will come in or out.”

  Ana simply stepped back into the room, her fingers trembling as she got to work. There really had been a body in the dumpster. She’d seen a man dumping a woman’s body—and she’d gotten his face on camera.

  Chapter 1

  Ten years later

  Autumn hurried through the front door of Verona Bay’s local bank five minutes before it was about to close. She normally didn’t come inside but the ATM wasn’t working and she wanted to deposit a few checks. She needed a new deck and was saving up to put in a pool for next summer. Doing
any of that on a teacher’s salary was always a stretch, so any extra money she got from her art classes or commissioned projects, she socked away.

  “Autumn, how are you?” Melissa Weprin, the manager of the bank, asked with a smile as she stepped outside of her glass-windowed office.

  “Hey, Melissa. Just depositing some checks before the weekend. What’s up with the ATM?”

  “Oh, it’s got to be serviced. So will I see you at Bianca’s pool party tomorrow?”

  “You know I wouldn’t miss it.” School started next week, and she planned to enjoy every last moment of her summer. She loved what she did, loved teaching kids about art and seeing the amazing things they came up with.

  Ten years ago, the thought of teaching would have made her roll her eyes, but life had a way of shaking everything up. She knew firsthand.

  So while she wasn’t doing what she’d once dreamed of, she’d still made an amazing life. And she’d made the choice a long time ago not to feel sorry for herself—even if there were some dreams she’d had to bury.

  “I hope you bring that sangria,” Melissa said, laughing as she headed for the front door, presumably to lock it, given the time.

  “It wouldn’t be a party without it.” Laughing lightly, she stepped away and got in the short line.