Authors: Erica Spindler
“Addictively suspenseful.”
â
New Mystery Reader
on
Copycat
“Another spine-tingling thrillerâ¦with a twisted ending.
Copycat
will keep you on the edge of your chair and up for hours turning page after page.”
â
Writers Unlimited
Spindler “is able to effectively weave a web of suspicion over a great number of characters, gradually eliminating suspectsâby mortality or otherwiseâbut making it almost impossible to predict the outcome.”
â
Bookreporter.com
on
Killer Takes All
“If you enjoy the suspense of the classic âwoman in jeopardy' mystery,
See Jane Die
makes perfect beach reading.”
â
Cleveland Plain Dealer
“Creepy and compelling,
In Silence
is a real page-turner.”
â
Times Picayune
“Fans of Erica Spindler know that, in her hands, even an old idea gets a new spin. That's what makes
In Silence
her best to date.”
â
Globe and Mail
“A classic confrontation between good and evil.”
â
Publishers Weekly
on
Dead Run
All Fall Down
is “shocking, emotional, an engrossing read.”
â
New York Times
bestselling author Stella Cameron
“Spindler's latest moves fast and takes no prisoners. An intriguing look into the twisted mind of someone for whom murder is simply a business.”
â
Publishers Weekly
on
Cause for Alarm
Dear Reader,
Thank you for purchasing
See Jane Die
. Originally published in 2004, this story remains a fan favorite. If characters could speak, I know which one from
See Jane Die
would claim the credit for the novel's successâJane's sister, Stacy Killian.
A force to be reckoned with, Stacy wrangled her way into two more of my stories,
Killer Takes All
and
Last Known Victim
. You can learn more about these and my other titles at www.ericaspindler.com. While there, check out my latest fan appreciation “Goodie,” enter my contest or drop me an e-mail. You may also write to me at P.O. Box 8556, Mandeville, Louisiana 70470. I love to hear from my readers!
Best wishes,
Erica Spindler
For Linda West
Kind. Funny. Always a friend.
The post-9/11 world is a complicated one. Fears of terrorism have forced authorities to tighten security and made them suspicious of requests from even the most benign sources. The Dallas Police Department denied me access to their facility and refused to answer my questions. It was curious to me that criminals are allowed access to places and information I was not, but as I said a moment ago, 9/11 changed the world. Using information gleaned from other urban police departments, I tried to portray as accurate a picture as possible of the DPD. For those in the know, you will recognize the descriptions of the nonpublic areas of the DPD headquarters as works of fiction. In addition, since the writing of this novel, police headquarters has moved from the Municipal Building to a location on Lamar Street.
As always, I want to express my sincere gratitude to the many professionals who gave of their time and expertise, answering my questions with enthusiasm and patience. In particular, I need to acknowledge Rex Patton, Century 21, Judge Fite Company, Dallas. Not only did he give me and my assistant most of a day, familiarizing us with Dallas neighborhoods and taking us on home tours, he shared many a colorful story about his town. He also kept us entertained with “Rexisms.” My favorite of the day: “If you're
going to get run out of town, get out in front and make 'em think it's a parade.” (For more Rexisms, visit ericaspindler.com.)
Big thanks also to Melissa Sparvero, Concierge, The Mansion at Turtle Creek, who went above and beyond the call of duty, providing information on all things Dallas.
Thanks to all my legal eagles: attorneys Linda West, Jay Young and particularly attorney Walter Becker, Jr., Chaffee, McCall, New Orleans, who provided discovery information that continued to elude us after searching every Web site known to law and man. An exaggeration, but that's how it felt.
I must mention a handful of others who cheerfully answered questions, all of which helped me bring
See Jane Die
to completion: Dr. Victoria Witt, Ph.D., Pam Pizel, Pizel & Associates, St. Tammany Parish Sheriff's Deputy Ryan Suhre, NOPD Captain Roy Shakelford, DFC Phil Aleshire, Mandeville Police Department, and John Lord, Jr., Arms Merchant, LLC.
Last but not least, thanks to the people I count on every day: Rajean Schulze, my assistant, for tirelessly researching, for accompanying me to Dallas and for reading a dozen different mapsâand doing it with a smile. My agent Evan Marshall. My editor, the amazing Dianne Moggy, and the entire MIRA crew. My family. (Love you guys!) And my Lord, for the gifts and the grace.
LAST KNOWN VICTIM
COPYCAT
KILLER TAKES ALL
IN SILENCE
DEAD RUN
BONE COLD
ALL FALL DOWN
CAUSE FOR ALARM
SHOCKING PINK
FORTUNE
FORBIDDEN FRUIT
RED
Friday, March 13, 1987
Lake Ray Hubbard Dallas, Texas
H
eart thundering with exertion, fifteen-year-old Jane Killian treaded water. Sunlight reflected off the lake's glassy surface, blindingly bright. She squinted against it as a single, wispy cloud trotted across the postcard-perfect blue sky.
>
Jane looked back at the shore and waved her arms triumphantly. Her half sister, Stacy, two years her senior, had dared her to swim in the frigid water. Stacy's know-it-all friendsâand fellow truantsâhad joined in, clucking their tongues, taunting her.
>
Jane had not just taken the dare, but had swum out past the raft, past the finger of land used as the demarcation point between the swimming and boating areas of the lake.
>
Not only the older sibling, Stacy was the more athletic, stronger, faster. Jane tended to be a bookworm and dreamerâa tendency Stacy enjoyed goading her about.
>
Take that, Jane thought. Who's the weakling now? Who's the chicken?
>
At the rumble of a motor, Jane turned her head. A sleek powerboat raced across the surface of the otherwise deserted lake, its path set to cross hers. An accomplished
water-skier, Jane waved her arms to signal the boat's captain of her presence.
>
The craft veered away, seemed to falter, then angled back toward her.
>
Jane's heart lurched to her throat. She signaled again, this time frantically.
>
Still the boat came. As if its captain was deliberately aiming for her.
>
Panicked, she glanced back at the shore, saw that Stacy and her companions were on their feet, jumping up and down and screaming.
>
Still the boat came.
>
He meant to hit her
.
>
A terrified cry ripped past her lips; the roar of the engine drowned it out. The boat's hull crowded, then filled, her vision.
>
A moment later terror was obliterated by pain as the motor's prop tore into her.