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Not Her (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 4)
Not Her (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 4)
Not Her (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 4)
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Not Her (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 4)

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Tourists are disappearing on airboats deep in the Bayou, and in this new novel by #1 bestselling and critically-acclaimed mystery and suspense author Kate Bold, Camille Grace, a rising star in the FBI’s BAU unit, must face a diabolical killer and face the one place she vowed she would never return: the deep South.

“Phenomenal debut with a huge creep factor… So many twists and turns, you’ll have no idea who the next victim will be. If you love a thriller that will keep you awake well into the night, this book is for you.”
—Reader review for Let Me Go

A riveting psychological crime thriller full of mystery and suspense, the CAMILLE GRACE mystery series will make you fall in love with a brilliant new female protagonist. Packed with twists and turns, her story will keep you flipping pages late into the night.

Book #5 in the series—NOT NORMAL—is also available.

“This is an excellent book… When you start reading, be sure you don’t have to wake up early!”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“I really enjoyed this book… It draws you in right away and keeps you turning the pages right up to the end. I am really anticipating the next book.”
—Reader review for Let Me Go

“WOW what a great read! Talk about a diabolical killer! Really enjoyed this book. Looking forward to reading others by this author as well.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Excellent start to a new series… Get this book and read it, you will love it!”
—Reader review for Let Me Go

“Captivating and riveting serial murder with a twist of the macabre… Very well done.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Good read with good plot, plenty of action, and great character development. A thriller that will keep you awake into the night.”
—Reader review for Let Me Go
LanguageEnglish
PublisherKate Bold
Release dateNov 29, 2022
ISBN9781094394756
Not Her (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 4)

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    Not Her (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 4) - Kate Bold

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    N O T   H E R

    (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 4)

    K a t e   B o l d

    Kate Bold

    Bestselling author Kate Bold is author of the ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); of the ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); of the CAMILLE GRACE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eight books (and counting); of the HARLEY COLE SUSPENSE THRILLER, comprising five books (and counting); and of the KAYLIE BROOKS SUSPENSE THRILLER, comprising five books (and counting).

    An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Kate loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.kateboldauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

    Copyright © 2022 by Kate Bold. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright ibpstock, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

    BOOKS BY KATE BOLD

    ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER

    THE KILLING GAME (Book #1)

    THE KILLING TIDE (Book #2)

    THE KILLING HOUR (Book #3)

    THE KILLING POINT (Book #4)

    THE KILLING FOG (Book #5)

    THE KILLING PLACE (Book #6)

    ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER

    LET ME GO (Book #1)

    LET ME OUT (Book #2)

    LET ME LIVE (Book #3)

    LET ME BREATHE (Book #4)

    LET ME FORGET (Book #5)

    LET ME ESCAPE (Book #6)

    CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

    NOT ME (Book #1)

    NOT NOW (Book #2)

    NOT WELL (Book #3)

    NOT HER (Book #4)

    NOT NORMAL (Book #5)

    NOT AGAIN (Book #6)

    NOT SAFE (Book #7)

    NOT TODAY (Book #8)

    HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

    NOWHERE SAFE (Book #1)

    NOWHERE LEFT (Book #2)

    NOWHERE TO RUN (Book #3)

    NOWHERE LIKE THIS (Book #4)

    NOWHERE GIRL (Book #5)

    KAYLIE BROOKS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE

    LAST BREATH (Book #1)

    LAST CHANCE (Book #2)

    LAST WISH (Book #3)

    LAST SHOT (Book #4)

    LAST MISTAKE (Book #5)

    CONTENTS

    CHAPTER ONE

    CHAPTER TWO

    CHAPTER THREE

    CHAPTER FOUR

    CHAPTER FIVE

    CHAPTER SIX

    CHAPTER SEVEN

    CHAPTER EIGHT

    CHAPTER NINE

    CHAPTER TEN

    CHAPTER ELEVEN

    CHAPTER TWELVE

    CHAPTER THIRTEEN

    CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    CHAPTER FIFTEEN

    CHAPTER SIXTEEN

    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

    CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

    CHAPTER NINETEEN

    CHAPTER TWENTY

    CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

    CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

    CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

    CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

    CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

    CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

    CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

    CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

    CHAPTER ONE

    Megan could swear the frogs were laughing at her.

    She had been fighting with this knot for about fifteen minutes now, and she couldn't get the damn thing to fit snugly. The pontoon boat bobbed patiently in the water beside her, but the frogs seemed to chuckle every time her failed knot unraveled from the dock. Night was falling and she had no idea where Julie was. Julie had left to get the truck about five minutes ago, laughing under her breath about the trouble Megan was having with the knot. Julie had been in no shape to try to tie it down because she’d had far too much to drink and could barely even walk without leaning against her boy-of-the-week, much less tie a borrowed pontoon boat to a dock.

    Off in the distance, the frogs continued to laugh. It was a low, throaty sort of noise that echoed through the trees, across the lake, and straight to Megan’s ears. Somewhere else she thought she could hear a family laughing together. They were probably done with their day of fun on the lake and ready to head home for a nice dinner. Nearby, a fish jumped and broke the surface of the water, splashing back down in it. It was all very quaint, very pleasant—except for the fact that failing to tie this knot was making her feel like an idiot. She could manage a basic one, but she knew it needed to be strong--one of those knots only practiced Boy Scouts or woodsmen could make.

    It really sucked because before this, it had actually been a fairly great day. Her day on the lake with her friends had gone better than she’d expected. It hadn't been the relaxing vacation she'd been looking for, but it had been nice. She would have rather gone to the beach or maybe even to Atlantic City. Hell, maybe even Disney World. How they’d ended up outside of New Orleans on the pontoon boat of a man she didn’t even know was beyond her.

    Then again, she’d had a few drinks, had flirted with some cute and very gullible guys, and got her tan a bit darker. And if she could just tie this stupid knot, there might be more drinks and a foolish night with a strange guy back at the hotel. She wouldn’t be able to fault Julie and bitch at her in the morning, but she’d be fine with that. Griping at Julie was great and all, but so was a bit of drunken, no-ties sex. Plus, she still had one day left before she had to go back to Dallas—back to home and back to work. She may as well make the most of it and enjoy the little time she had left.

    Finally, after what felt like forever, Megan got a very sturdy knot to cinch up tight. She wasn’t sure, but she thought it was called a bowtie knot. She had no idea how she knew this. It was just one of those things she’d read or seen somewhere that had glued itself to her memory. Whatever it was, it was holding the pontoon in place for the owner to pick back up, and it was holding strong.

    She took a moment to admire the knot and started to walk down the dock to join Julie and the guys back at the parking lot. It was odd how something as funny as properly tying a convoluted knot could make her feel so much better. Smiling, she decided maybe she’d have serval more drinks and catch up to Julie. She’d—

    Well, she’d do nothing without her cooler. And her cooler was back on the boat. She turned around and headed back to the pontoon—which was being held in place beautifully by her very strong knot. She hopped onto the boat just as she noticed a smaller boat pulling in behind her. It was a good distance away, its engine purring softly. It was coming directly for the pontoon, though, the speed decreasing and the engine dying down a bit. There was a single man on board, guiding it carefully to the rear of the pontoon.

    Megan was alarmed at first. Had she tied the pontoon down to the wrong dock? This was the one that Julie and the guys had insisted they were supposed to pull up to. And honestly, it did look familiar. The morning felt like it had happened eons ago, but she was quite sure this was the same wooden, floating dock they’d trotted down at nine o’ clock that morning.

    In the off chance she had made a mistake, she didn’t want to seem guilty and hurry away. She walked to the dock and waited as the man in the little boat pulled in on the other side.

    Is this the wrong dock? she asked, afraid of the answer. If she had to untie her perfect knot, she might just throw a tantrum. I’m not really out here all that much and my friends told me this was the right one.

    Oh, no, this isn’t my dock, the man said with cheer in his voice. In the dusk, she thought he looked to be about twenty-five or so, a little overweight with a handsome face. He wore a ballcap low on his head and a pair of sunglasses clung to the collar of his t-shirt.

    Oh…okay, she said. Maybe this was like a public dock or something, and he was pulling up for the afternoon as well.

    I was actually pulling up to speak to you, the man said. I’m doing this small-business sort of thing, just getting it off the ground, really. I’m trying to see if there’s any interest at all in this area in alligator tours.

    Ugh. No, not for me. Those things terrify me.

    The man laughed, and Megan found it charming. If it weren’t so close to dark and if Julie and their guys weren’t waiting for her, she may have stayed a bit longer to chat him up.

    "Yeah, they terrify a lot of people. That’s why so many folks find them sort of fascinating."

    Yeah, I guess I can understand that. But it’s a no for me. I’ve got some friends waiting up there in the parking lot and I’m sort of in a rush.

    Ah, I see. Sorry to bother you. Look…would you at least take one of my cards? If the boss man at least sees that I gave out some cards, it might not look as bad.

    Of course, she said. I really am sorry.

    Oh, it’s no problem, he said, reaching into his pocket.

    Megan stepped to the edge of the dock to hold her hand out for his card. Somewhere in the gathering dark behind her, she could hear Julie laughing. Yeah, Megan thought, there might be a very fun night in store for them. They may have to go all the way into New Orleans to find it, but that would be fine with her.

    Here you go, the man in the little boat said. I do appreciate it.

    Everything that happened after that was so fast that Megan didn’t quite grasp it. She looked toward the man’s hand and saw a knife, not a business card. It was small and maybe the sharpest knife she’d ever seen. Before she was aware of what the man was truly intending to do, the blade was arching through the air in a harsh angle. She felt it slide into and then through her neck, but it was barely more than the feeling of a papercut.

    But then she couldn’t breathe, and she could feel blood start to pour from her neck. She stumbled forward and the knife flashed out again. Once again, it caught her neck, but this time it went upwards. The pain was harsher but before she had time to register it, she fell forward. Her right knee struck the rail of the pontoon she’d been on all day, and she stumbled over it.

    Megan tried to scream as she collapsed onto the boat. She was sure it was just her panicked imagination, but she thought she could actually hear her blood racing out of her neck. As she tried to draw in breath for a scream once more, she realized that she was unable. She felt like she was being strangled, unable to draw in any breath at all. The scream she tried to let out came in through her nose when she struggled to breathe, but it escaped her body at once.

    She could barely hear the man who was back in his boat, unseen, and revving the engine. As the life leaked out of her, Megan looked at the roof of the pontoon and could again hear the frogs. Once again, it sounded like they were laughing, and it was the last thing she heard, mingling with the sound of the little retreating boat.

    CHAPTER TWO

    As far as first dates go, this has got to be among the strangest in the history of first dates.

    Camille snickered at her own joke. Zack, standing beside her, did a commendable job of keeping his own laughter in. They both looked toward the front doors of the church’s meeting hall, hesitating for just a moment.

    Maybe that was my plan, Zack said. Bring you on the oddest first date so that it would ruin all other first dates for you for the rest of your dating life.

    Then I’d say you succeeded.

    They started toward the stairs to the meeting hall of Cornerstone Baptist Church. It was much smaller than most of the other churches in this part of New Orleans, almost an afterthought of a building tucked in among much greater houses of worship. But that was why it seemed so quaint and intimate.

    Camille had known this would be an awkward date when Zack had invited her five days ago. She’d agreed mainly because she knew it had to take a special form of courage to ask a woman he barely knew to attend the potluck following his great aunt’s memorial service. Well, that and he was very easy on the eyes. And he’d had the good sense to only invite her to the potluck—not the funeral or the memorial.

    It was just after two in the afternoon when they entered the meeting hall. The church smelled of pine-scented wood cleaner and old books. She noticed that only a few of the others in attendance made any effort to shake hands with Zack. He only got two hugs and a smattering of polite nods of acknowledgement thrown in. Given that there were at least eighty people in attendance, it seemed strange.

    Are you sure we’re at the right potluck? Camille asked.

    Pretty sure. Though, with Baptists, you can never be too sure. They do love their potlucks.

    No one here seems to know you.

    I know. But I told you…I wasn’t really close with her. I’m only here to support my mom.

    Yeah, about that, Camille said as they stepped into the central area of the meeting hall. "A first date…and I hesitate to even call it a date…and I’m supposed to meet your mother?"

    Oh, God, no. I’ll scoot off to see her in a minute. She’s going to be in the front of the church with her two sisters and my great uncle.

    "And I’m supposed to…what, exactly?"

    It’s a Baptist potluck. You eat and judge other people’s clothes.

    Camille had never been into religion—not past the age of ten, anyway. She didn’t know the difference between Baptist, Lutheran, Pentecostal, or whatever other denominations held sway over any given population.

    I’m really starting to regret this, she said as Zack led her to the first of several tables. Each table was loaded down with a variety of foods—from Bundt cakes to collard greens.

    Regretting what? Zack asked as he picked a plastic plate off the edge of the first table. Going out with me?

    No, I would have gone out with you regardless. but the whole post-funeral vibe for someone you don’t know is just…well, it’s strange.

    And it was. But really, she didn’t mind it; she

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