Last Chance (A Kaylie Brooks Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book 2)

By Kate Bold

“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

Kaylie Brooks, a modest Midwestern girl out of place amongst the wealthy of Palm Beach, has decided to use her brilliant mind and pursue her passion for profiling, working for the police. When a wealthy divorcee turns up dead, floating face down in the pool of her mansion, suspects abound. But to find the killer, Kaylie will have to return to the world of the uber wealthy, and unearth their darkest secrets.

LAST CHANCE is book #2 in a long-anticipated new series by #1 bestseller Kate Bold, whose books have received over 600 five star ratings and reviews.

A page-turning and harrowing psychological suspense thriller, the KAYLIE BROOKS series is a riveting crime mystery, packed with non-stop action, suspense, twists and turns, revelations, and driven by a breakneck pace that will keep you flipping pages late into the night. Fans of Gillian Flynn, Rachel Caine and Teresa Driscoll are sure to fall in love.

Books #3-#5 in the series—LAST WISH, LAST SHOT, and LAST MISTAKE—are also available.

“This book moved very fast and every page was exciting. Plenty of dialogue, you absolutely love the characters, and you were rooting for the good guy throughout the whole story… I look forward to reading the next in the series.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Kate did an amazing job on this book and I was hooked from the first chapter!”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“I really enjoyed this book. The characters were authentic, and I see the bad guys as something we hear about daily on the news... Looking forward to book 2.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“This was a really good book. The main characters were real, flawed and human. The story went along quickly and wasn't mired in too many unnecessary details. I really enjoyed it.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Alexa Chase is headstrong, impatient, but most of all brave with a capital B. She never, repeat never, backs down until the bad guys are put where they belong. Clearly five stars!”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

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

“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

“Page turner for sure. Great characters and relationships. I got into the middle of this story and couldn’t put it down. Looking forward to more from Kate Bold.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Hard to put down. It has an excellent plot and has the right amount of suspense. I really enjoyed this book.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Extremely well written, and well worth buying and reading. I can't wait to read book two!”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Bold
• Release date: Nov 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094395753

Book preview

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L A S T   C H A N C E

(A Kaylie Brooks Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book 2)

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); the ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eight books (and counting); the HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); and the KAYLIE BROOKS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER series, 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 Eugene Partyzan, 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 PYSCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER

LAST BREATH (Book #1)

LAST CHANCE (Book #2)

LAST WISH (Book #3)

LAST SHOT (Book #4)

LAST MISTAKE (Book #5)

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

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 TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Standing in the cool pre-dawn, Mitch looked up at the two-story mansion he was about to sneak into.

He’d never done such a thing before. Excitement and apprehension mingled inside him. He knew this was crossing a line.

The gate looks locked, the message he’d received had read. But if you reach around the side, you'll find a key in a niche on the wall.

He reached the gate, nerves flickering within him, hunching down into the collar of his dark jacket to make his tall, broad-shouldered build less obvious. He pulled his baseball cap lower over his mop of brown hair. Then, he checked around him to see that there was nobody on the street outside. In the distance was a woman in brightly colored shorts, jogging, but she turned down a side road in the direction of a park.

Having made sure he was alone, he brushed his fingers along the niche. There was the key. Carefully, he grasped it and opened the side gate. The hinges squeaked and he froze, looking around.

But nobody heard. These Palm Beach properties were large. The houses were spaced too far apart for anyone to hear.

He sneaked through the gap, locking the gate, replacing the key in the niche.

Then he trod up the paved path, hearing the lap of water from the swimming pool on his left, the glitters of light and shade on the aquamarine water.

It was quiet at this hour, the grass damp from an overnight shower. Everything bright in the clean, early morning air. The vivid greens, the profusion of flowers in the beds, the bright white of the house walls. He’d always thought this area had a particular smell, even though he couldn’t put his finger on it, and thought it was probably due to so many well-watered flowers and plants.

The smell of obscene wealth, he was sure his dad would comment in a slightly scornful way.

What would his dad think of what he was doing now? Mitch cringed at that idea.

He needed to focus, and to make sure his mind was on what lay ahead. What he was here for. His breath came faster as he thought about it. He was crossing a line, but the reward would be worth the risk - he hoped.

There's a beam at the front of the house, the instructions had said. Don't go that way. Go around the back.

He avoided the front carefully. The last thing he needed now was the shrill tone of an alarm, announcing to everyone that he was here. That would mess things up, majorly.

But, as he reached the side of the house, where a rose garden was displayed in glorious pinks, reds, and yellows, he froze.

Don't go around the outside of the rose garden. There's a gap and the neighbor’s camera can pick you up.

He'd almost forgotten that. In the excitement and adrenaline, one of the most important instructions had almost skipped his mind. His heart accelerated. He wasn't focusing on the job. He was putting himself, and what he was doing, at risk.

Quickly, he detoured to the inside of the rose garden, treading on the paving stones that traversed the grass between the rose garden and the wall.

You'll see the back door. It's closed and locked, but the key is left under the mat on the right hand side.

That was the next instruction. The next step. From here, it would be easier, because he'd be inside.

Well, easier, but more difficult. Nothing about this was easy and everything was fraught with risk. He knew he couldn't afford to be seen, that he had to avoid the eyes of people, and cameras, that were everywhere. It was like a game, for sure - but one with a prize.

He felt under the mat for the key, and put it in the lock. But to his surprise, as he opened it, he realized that the back door hadn't been locked. It was already open.

That was strange. He paused for a moment, wondering what it meant. Why it had been that way. He didn't know if this meant something was wrong, that things were not the way they were supposed to be.

He looked around, nervously. Thinking, What now?

 He could be caught and his whole plan would unravel.

With so much going on in his head, it was difficult to reason clearly. He was agitated, anxious about what to do next. Should he go back? 

These thoughts spun through his mind but he decided it was too late to make a decision - he'd already made one. It was a minor detail, surely. It was not important.

He pushed open the door.

As he stepped inside, he felt a wave of pride that he had made it in, without triggering an alarm or being seen at all. The open door didn't matter. He was in the house now. That alone was success of a sort. He was here, despite the warnings and dangers. And his goal awaited him. That, he knew.

Now, the instructions had said to go through the kitchen - which was silent and perfectly neat, decorated in creams and browns, with gleaming counters, wooden cupboards, chrome appliances. His kitchen at home wasn't like that. He didn't think it could ever look like that, despite the fact his family also had a part-time maid. If he wasn't sneaking downstairs and grabbing food from the fridge, making a sandwich on the countertop, then his younger brother or sister were doing it. But this didn't look like it had ever been touched, and it drove home to him how different this place was.

It reminded him again of the risk he was taking, and his heart pounded.

He left the kitchen and went into the giant entrance hall, where a wide marble staircase on the far side wound its way to the upper floor.

As he reached the staircase and began to climb, he kept glancing around, looking for signs of movement. The chandelier above him caught the rays of the rising sun through the large round window by the stairs, causing the crystal to sparkle.

Go along the corridor to the second door on the left, the instructions had then said.

Now, excitement and nerves were flaring inside him. The second door was ahead.

The door will be open, the instructions had said.

But the door was closed, and Mitch paused again.

Perhaps it didn't matter; after all, this house felt silent and empty. But again he felt a flare of panic that something had gone wrong, that he would be found here, that this was going to backfire on him in the most terrible way.

He lifted a hand and knocked on the door, very softly. He hadn't been told to knock. But he hadn't been told that the door would be closed. It was definitely the second door. There was only one door on the right, and then a massive door at the end of the passage that he guessed led to the main suite.

Well, maybe this was all part of the game. Part of the challenge. Maybe these little details had just been forgotten - or even deliberately included to tease him or test him. At any rate, Mitch decided, there was no turning back and it was time to open the door and claim his prize.

He lifted a hand to the brass handle. It felt cold in his grasp. He turned and opened it.

There was the room, with a giant four poster bed with a crimson coverlet, a couch, a Persian rug. Expensive artwork on the walls. Crystal figurines and gold ornaments on the shelf above the fireplace.

And on the bed, a woman’s figure lay, in a sheer white nightgown. Mitch caught his breath, flinching back as he saw it. His instincts flared. He sensed there was something very wrong. The stillness. The way she was sprawled. The utter soundlessness of this room that suddenly felt like a tomb.

His breath was coming fast, in gasps of panic, because this was turning into a nightmare.

He took another step, and then froze in shock as his eyes took in the impossible truth.

This woman was dead.

No! Mitch whispered, feeling sick, as if the room was spinning around him. Her blue eyes stared up, wide and unseeing. The deep red marks on her neck, bruised and grazed, gave an indication of death. Her beautiful face was as pale as her gown, drained of all color, drained of all life.

There was no game, no more clues to follow. There was only a murder scene - her, and him.

CHAPTER ONE

Kaylie Brooks stood outside the doctor’s room, shaking, feeling sick about the upcoming appointment, the follow-up to the blood tests that had been done the day before yesterday.

From the moment the needle had pierced her arm and she'd seen blood flow into that tube, she'd felt nauseous with dread inside because that crimson blood seemed to symbolize the harsh truth of reality.

A pregnancy test was so final. Until now, she had been able to pretend it wasn't happening. But at this moment, she knew she could not avoid the decisions that faced her. She didn't want to think about what they were although she was sure that the doctor would discuss them with her in detail. She still felt paralyzed by shock and indecision. There was no way forward that appeared to be a good outcome.

Her husband, Brett Brooks, was currently in prison and awaiting his murder trial. His family, who were ultra-wealthy and prominent in Palm Beach society, now loathed and detested her, believing that everything that had played out in their short, disastrous marriage had been Kaylie's fault.

Kaylie had been living and studying in her Nebraska hometown and had met Brett while on a trip to Florida. A short, whirlwind romance had culminated in a fairytale marriage proposal. Since Kaylie’s older sister Jess had disappeared mysteriously when Kaylie was sixteen, and this had led to her becoming estranged from her parents, it had meant the world to her that there was finally someone in her life she could love.

Straight after the wedding, Kaylie had moved to Palm Beach, and then had swiftly discovered the terrible truths about her husband.

The reality was that Brett, under his handsome and charming facade, was a psychopathic killer. He had murdered two women for no other reason than to protect his good name and feed his monstrous ego. And twenty-eight-year-old Kaylie had nearly been his third victim.

She was carrying a killer’s child. Again, dread clenched her stomach, so painful that she flinched.

You okay? the woman sitting two seats away in the waiting room asked, looking at Kaylie in concern.

She did her best to give a polite smile, pushing the hairpin deeper into her wavy, chestnut brown hair. She'd been too stressed to blow it dry today and the shoulder length locks were now disordered and frizzy.

I'm okay, yes. Just a bit tense, she said.

Yeah. Doctor's visits are never fun, the serious-faced woman, who looked to be in her forties, soothed. I’ve got my mother in there now with the nurse for her checkup. I’m anxious that she’s in good health, too. She indicated the door on the opposite side.

Kaylie nodded, not wanting to get into a conversation. The whole who are you and where are you from and do you live here? angle was not going to go well for her.

Never mind that Brett's family hated her; it seemed the whole of Palm Beach was divided over whether or not she was to blame for her husband’s homicidal tendencies. Logic clearly went out the window as theories circulated. For this reason, Kaylie was wearing dark glasses, hiding away behind them, not wanting to be seen or noticed, needing to stay anonymous, especially now.

The door to the doctor’s consulting room opened, and she jumped.

Mrs. Brooks? The doctor, a pleasant-faced man with graying hair and a calming, bedside manner, looked out.

Kaylie jumped to her feet, already seeing the woman's eyes light up at the Brooks name, as she realized too late who she'd been seated next to. She grabbed her purse and rushed through the door, her heart