Run For Your Life: Mitch Cannon Savannah Heat Thriller Series, #1

By C.M. Sutter

With the weekend right around the corner, Homicide Detective Mitch Cannon is looking forward to Saturday night. It isn't often he has a date, and this one will be particularly interesting. His new friend Liza is beautiful, edgy, outspoken, and somewhat odd.

 

But Mitch's usual Friday-morning phone call to his mom sets the wheels in motion for five days of pure hell. Mitch's sister, Marie, has gone missing without a trace. His date is canceled, and Mitch's partner, Devon, and Liza also go missing the following night. The only clue is a call Mitch gets from someone whose number is blocked, the anonymous speaker saying, "Ticktock, ticktock."
 
Mitch and the entire Habersham precinct set out on a white-knuckle search to find his sister, partner, and new friend before time runs out and all three are gone forever.

 

 

Mitch Cannon Savannah Heat Thriller Series books are listed in chronological order below

#1 Run For Your Life

 

 

Editorial Review

"Savannah Homicide Detective Mitch Cannon has a new lady friend, Liza, who walks on the wild side, but his concerns over her take a back seat when his sister Marie goes missing. The next day, his partner and Liza go missing as well, and all three disappearances are somehow linked to one of his past cases, but the police keep coming up empty when they try to find out how. The first installment in this new series is edgy, fast-paced, and often chilling. Sutter's fans will eat it up." Angela M., Line Editor, Red Adept Editing

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.M. Sutter
• Release date: Jan 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201504236

Book preview

Chapter 1

It had already been a long Thursday morning, but we’d finally made it to the lunch hour. Our three interrogations with gangster wannabes and their smart-mouthed public defenders had been tiring, and we’d only just begun.

Last night during a two-car drive-by shooting, four young men between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two were gunned down on the sidewalk in front of their apartment building. They were needless deaths but only in the eyes of the law. We still had three more people to interview. As usual, the first to cough up the truth and name the actual shooter or shooters would get the best deal. Otherwise, they would all go down for murder. Luckily, Patrol had been doing their rounds of that neighborhood and heard the shots being fired. The perps were apprehended within minutes, and their guns were still hot from the rapid fire. We literally had them dead to rights.

With an exhausted sigh, I dropped down at the cafeteria table in our Habersham Street precinct after grabbing my lunch from the refrigerator. Rue was taking up the rear and said something about forgetting the unopened soda on his desk. As I ate my chicken salad sandwich, I pulled the invitation from my lunch bag and read it for the fifteenth time. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to attend the event or not, yet the message promised a night of good deeds and unparalleled excitement—one the attendees would certainly never forget.

Whatcha got there, Cannon? Devon asked.

I looked over my right shoulder as he scooted in next to me on the long bench and settled in with his soda and a Greek yogurt.

I frowned at his lunch choice. Are you bipolar or something?

What is that supposed to mean?

I made my point using my hands as scales. On my left hand here is your high-calorie, rot-your-teeth, sugary soda, and on my right hand is a cup of healthy, delicious Greek yogurt. Notice how my left hand gets lower and lower and my right hand goes higher?

Yep, great visual aids.

My point is, that heavy unhealthy soda is weighing down the good you’re doing by eating yogurt.

But I like them both equally.

I groaned. Why not diet soda, then?

Rue shook his head and popped the tab on the soda can. He smiled as it hissed. Diet soda tastes like shit. Anyway, whatcha looking at?

I smacked the trifold invitation on the table then slid it toward him. It’s an invitation to a scavenger hunt that’s supposedly happening Saturday night at a place yet to be determined.

Sounds like fun. Who arranged that?

Not sure who arranged it, but the invite came from a young lady I recently met.

Rue raised his right brow. Really? How long were you going to keep me in the dark about that?

I flicked a bread crumb, and it landed on the next table. It’s nothing serious. Actually, I’ve only known her for a little over a week. Met her at Alioto’s Friday night when I stopped in for a beer. Guess she gets into those extreme games, sports, and contests. A nonstop kind of gal, so she says. I shrugged. We’ll see. I chuckled. I’ve never participated in a scavenger hunt in my life, and at damn near forty, I never thought I’d join in on one now.

Hell, I’d do it. No different than hunting for clues to a crime.

True enough, but I may have to bail anyway. I rapped my fingers on the table. There’s a good chance we’ll have another murder on our hands by then.

Rue huffed. That much, we can count on.

I glanced at the wall clock. Slurp down that yogurt. We still have three more tough guys to interrogate today. I’m thinking it’s going to be a long afternoon.

I wasn’t about to tell Devon why I wanted to get those interrogations underway and out of the way. That night, I had a date with Liza, my new friend, and I wanted to leave the precinct on time—six o’clock. I wasn’t sure if calling it a date was accurate. We were meeting to eat, which most people did every night anyway, and have drinks, which many people also enjoyed routinely. Eating dinner was something I would do regardless, and there was no harm in enjoying the company of a fun-loving lady while I ate.

I chuckled at my own stupidity. It’s a date, idiot. Just own it and have fun.

I elbowed Rue and grabbed my lunch bag. Let’s go. Those interviews aren’t going to conduct themselves.

Later, after hours of questioning suspects, we finally ended our day. They would all be held responsible for the four murders since none of them would tell us the truth. So be it. After a jury’s decision, they would spend the rest of their lives behind bars.

The night crew had taken over an hour ago, and Rue and I finally walked out the door at six thirty—a half hour later than I would have liked. I still needed to go home, tend to Gus, then shower and change before meeting Liza at Stubby’s—a well-known sports bar in the historic district—at eight o’clock. Luckily, I lived only six minutes south of the station. From my house, Stubby’s was a short ten-minute drive north via Montgomery then a quick right on West Congress. I hadn’t spoken with Liza for a few days, but I’d sent a text asking if we were still on for that night. She’d responded with a yes and a smiling emoji.

I didn’t know much about her, but I hoped to learn more. She was an intriguing black-haired beauty with olive-green eyes. She wasn’t lacking in the looks department, which was obvious from the head snaps I noticed her getting at Alioto’s last week. Why she’d chosen to cozy up on a barstool next to me was a mystery, but I wasn’t complaining. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been on a date, which was pathetic in its own right, but I had my reasons. I’d seen far too many relationships and marriages fall apart since officers and detectives were put in dangerous situations nearly every day of their lives. On top of that, the long hours didn’t help. I’d always felt I was doing the right thing by choosing my career over a wife and family. I doubted that Liza was the type who was looking for a serious relationship. From the little I knew of her, she appeared to enjoy a spontaneous, carefree lifestyle and wasn’t searching for anything that might upset the apple cart.

Not the worst woman to date now and then. No expectations and no commitments.

After turning down a beer with Rue, I said good night to him, explaining that the day of interrogations had given me a headache.

You sure?

Yeah. I’ll catch you in the morning. How about tomorrow night if you don’t have anything else going on?

That sounds good. Then I’ll see you in the morning, buddy.

I climbed into my Corvette and headed south on Habersham. I felt like a jerk for lying to my partner and best friend, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. It was just a light dinner and drinks.

Chapter 2

Did you read the email I sent you?

Yes, but you have a lot of demands.

What the hell does that mean?

The voice on the other end of the line sighed. It’s a lot of work to accomplish in a short time.

Then I’ll hire somebody else who’s competent and up to the task. I had no idea you were that incapable.

Wait. The line went silent for a few seconds. I’ll do it for twelve thousand.

The agreed-upon price was ten thousand, asshole. Are you going to come through for me or not?

I will for twelve but not a penny less.

Both parties went silent again.

Fine. Don’t make me regret this, and follow the email to the letter. After you’ve completed the task to my satisfaction, delete all your messages, scrub your emails a half dozen times, and then change your email service, your log-ins, and password. Got it?

Got it.

I’ll meet you tomorrow with a down payment, and you’ll get the rest after the job is completed.

The phone line abruptly went dead.

Chapter 3

I pulled into my driveway at six forty-five, and by six forty-nine, I was inside the house and scratching Gus behind the right ear. He showed his affection by slobbering all over the floor and my pant leg.

You need a bib, buddy. I opened the patio door, shooed him out, and after wiping up the mess with a paper towel, cracked open a beer while I made sure he did his business. After his success, I nodded a good boy and left Gus outside to enjoy the outdoors while I headed upstairs to change clothes and shower.

The fact that I was nervous about the date took me by surprise, especially since I was a homicide detective who tracked down and apprehended killers on a regular basis. I laughed off my insecurities, picked out a casual pair of jeans and an Atlanta Falcons T-shirt, placed them on the bed, and headed for the shower. With two more gulps of beer, I emptied the can, then I stepped into the lukewarm spray of water. With the September temperatures still in the eighties, a hot shower wouldn’t cool me down, but a tepid one was just right.

I was dressed by seven thirty. After a light spritz of cologne, a comb through my hair, and a teeth brushing, my casual look was complete. I headed downstairs, where Gus was pawing at the door and ready for his supper. I filled his bowl with kibble, and after kissing him on top of his head, I locked up and left.

At ten till eight, I reached the street Stubby’s was on and knew parking would be an issue. After living in Savannah my entire life, I was aware of the parking problem in the historic district. Many of the restaurants didn’t have parking lots at all, so customers had to depend on street availability. I rounded the block twice and caught somebody pulling away from the curb. I got lucky and hoped that was a sign of a successful date and a fun night to come.

Stubby’s was only four buildings away. I wondered if Liza had arrived and if she had trouble locating a parking spot. I could have offered to pick her up, but meeting at the bar seemed like less of a date and more of a casual time to eat, drink, and learn more about each other. The outcome would tell me if there would be another date in our future after Saturday night’s scavenger hunt—if a murder didn’t prevent me from attending.

I stepped inside the lively bar and looked around. TVs showing some sport were scattered about every five feet and filled the walls. I scanned the crowd and didn’t see Liza. Maybe she hadn’t realized what a challenge it would be to find parking in the trendy, touristy area. I snagged a bar table as soon as a group of four left—another stroke of luck. The night looked promising.

As I watched the door, Liza passed the large street-facing window, and seconds later, she stepped inside the bar. I called out her name and waved to get her attention. A large grin spread across her face. She waved back and headed over.

Mitch, it’s good to see you again. She gave me a peck on the cheek, took a seat facing me, then looked around. This is definitely the place to be. It’s really hopping in here.

I looked for a waitress. You ready for a menu?

She swatted the air. Honestly, I’m fine with appetizers and a few ales.

I laughed. You’re making this too easy on me. You sure?

Positive. Let’s enjoy the atmosphere here, have a snack and a couple of cold ones, and then go somewhere else that’s a little quieter.

Sure, but I thought you were the type who was always up for a challenge.

I am for sure, but you can’t learn anything about the other person when you can’t hear their responses.

True enough.

What?

We laughed. I flagged down a waitress and asked for an appetizer platter and two blonde ales.

We spent an hour discussing our favorite teams and watching football on one of the many TVs. We didn’t get deep into our conversation, and keeping things light was the best thing to do considering the noise level.

Ready to move on? she asked after downing her second ale.

Yep, as soon as I settle the check.

Let’s just go. It’s so crowded in here nobody will even notice.

I laughed, certain she was joking, but when she headed for the door and walked out, I was stunned. I found our waitress, handed her three twenties, and left. I was sure that would cover our bill. Liza sat across the street on a bench at Franklin Square, grinning from ear to ear.

I frowned as I walked up to her. You do realize I’m a cop, right?

Oh, come on. Let your hair down and have some fun. You aren’t on duty right now.

Doesn’t matter. It’s still theft whether you’re a cop or not.

She laughed. So what did you do?

I paid the bill. What else?

Whatever. Let’s go somewhere quiet and have a whiskey. I promise I’ll behave.

I brushed off her strange behavior and suggested Camille’s. The restaurant was only two blocks away and had a great bar. It was a nice night for a walk anyway.

So are you always that impulsive?

Sure. Why not? You only live once.

In another life and with a different occupation, I might have agreed, but what she’d done would have been a crime if I hadn’t been there to cover the tab. That was a prank twenty-one-year-olds would have pulled on a dare, and it made me wonder how old she was. I began to rethink my plans for Saturday. A night at home with my buddy, Gus, in front of the TV with a beer and take-out, sounded just fine. Liza might be a little too wild and too young for me.

We entered Camille’s and found a quiet table by the window in the bar area. The waiter approached and asked what we would like. Liza spoke up before I had the chance. We’ll have two whiskeys, neat.

She was direct and to the point. I had to give her that.

So, tell me about your family, she said.

I ran through my life, including the fact that I had a mom and two married sisters, each of whom had two kids. Marie lived in Garden City, Meg lived in Port Wentworth, my mom lived in a retirement community, and I lived in our family home in Thomas Square.

How long have you been a cop?

I was flattered that she wanted to know so much about me. I’d noticed from the few women I’d dated that they liked talking about themselves. Twelve years but only eight as a detective and six with my current partner, Devon Rue.

Have you ever killed anyone?

Her question made me wince, but she wasn’t in law enforcement, and I figured most curious people might ask the same question. I have but only in self-defense or when defending somebody else.

Did I hit a nerve?

Nope, I just don’t get asked questions like that on a regular basis. So, how old are you, Liza, and what do you do?

She frowned. I’m twenty-seven, and I have fun.

I meant to support yourself.

I work at a nonprofit. Speaking of that scavenger hunt—

Were we?

Yeah. So it’s twenty bucks for the entry fee, and of course there are donations and pledges, too, but whoever finds all the items on their list first gets to decide what charity or foundation they want the winnings to go to. The expenses come out before anything else, but I’ve been to a few of those events, and it’s always nearly five hundred bucks that gets paid out.

I nodded. Sounds like a decent thing to do.

Yep. They have them every month. You’re coming, right?

I rubbed my forehead. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all, and the scavenger hunt could be fun and for a good cause. Where’s it taking place?

That’s always a secret until an hour before the event just so nobody has a chance for an unfair advantage by scoping out the venue beforehand. That’s when a group text with the address goes out to the people who have already signed up.

Then how will I know where to go since I won’t get that text?

She laughed. I’ll pick you up, silly. That way, you can’t back out or just be a no-show. It’s for a good cause, remember?

I wasn’t sure I wanted her to know where I lived, but in today’s world, that information was easy to find online. And what time should I expect you?

I’ll be there at nine o’clock sharp.

I checked the time—it was getting late. I think we should call it a wrap. Can I walk you to your car?

Why? You want to see if I drive a piece of shit?

I pulled back. Of course not. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. That’s all.

I’m good. You’ll see my car when I pick you up anyway. She got up, kissed my cheek, and walked out of Camille’s without looking back.

I rubbed my cheek as I watched her disappear into the night.

You’re a strange one, Liza Montclaire. That’s for sure.

Chapter 4

I was home by eleven o’clock and glad to be there. Because I had an odd feeling about Liza, I logged on to the internet and did a search of her name in Savannah. Liza Montclaire wasn’t the most common name, so I wasn’t expecting to see more than one entry—and I didn’t. It had to be her. The age was right, and her name did come up. So far, so good. The address that popped up was on East Henry. I looked it up on Street View and found the neighborhood filled with small but clean bungalows.

Not bad.

I pulled up the DMV database and typed in her name. Nothing came up.

That’s odd. She said she had a car, but maybe she’s borrowing one for Saturday night. She could be embarrassed that she doesn’t have her own.

I knew I was overthinking things. Many people who lived in the city rode public transportation everywhere. They saved plenty by not paying car payments or auto insurance premiums every month. I closed the website and thought about my next move. It was frowned upon by upper management without a legit reason, but I needed to know so I wouldn’t be wasting my time. I typed Liza’s name into the criminal database and found she had a clean record with not even a speeding ticket. I let out a relieved breath, logged off, and put my laptop on the breakfast bar. I’d been worrying about the evening’s events for nothing, and although she was edgy and impulsive, she was a woman ten years younger than me who was just out to have fun and possibly test my loyalty to my job. I couldn’t see anything beyond a friendship with her, but she could be fun in small doses.

Come on, Gus. It’s bedtime. Tomorrow is another workday, at least for me. I laughed when I looked back and my porky bulldog was waddling up the stairs behind me.

As I watched the news in bed—not something I should do, especially when breaking news was usually bad—I learned that another teen drive-by shooting had taken place just forty minutes earlier. Instinct made me want to head to the station, but our night shift detectives were more than capable, and they would pass the information on to us first thing in the morning. Because the shootings took place in our jurisdiction, I had no doubt that Rue and I would be working the case tomorrow. It could very well be a clear message to people in that neighborhood—and related to the gang shootings we were already dealing with.

I grabbed the remote, clicked the

Reviews for Run For Your Life

[ROSVI C. GAETOS · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

So so…too much of details and explanations being drawn out.