Let Me Breathe (An Ashley Hope Suspense Thriller—Book 4)

By Kate Bold

Ashley Hope is an average Southern woman, happily engaged—until dark secrets from her past tear her life apart. Now a member of Tennessee’s State Police’s Violent Crimes Division, Ashley must enter a murderer’s mind and follow a serial killer’s mysterious trail of victims through toxic waste sites. But could Ashley be next?

“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

LET ME BREATHE is book #4 in a new series from #1 bestselling mystery and suspense author Kate Bold, which begins with LET ME GO (Book #1).

A dark crime thriller full of mystery and suspense, the ASHLEY HOPE mystery series is rife with twists and jaw-dropping secrets as it unfolds into a riveting psychological thriller. Join this brilliant new female protagonist as she hunts down a serial killer, keeping you spellbound and turning pages late into the night. Fans of Rachel Caine, Teresa Driscoll and Robert Dugoni are sure to fall in love.

Books #5 and #6 in the series—LET ME FORGET and LET ME ESCAPE—are now also available.

“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

“A really good read. The story went quickly and the characters were interesting. I'm looking forward to the next book in this series!”
—Reader review for Let Me Go

“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

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

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Bold
• Release date: Nov 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094394282

Book preview

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L E T   M E   B R E A T H E

(An Ashley Hope 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); 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 seven 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 isak55, 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)

NOWHERE TO HIDE (Book #6)

NOWHERE CERTAIN (Book #7)

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

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

CHAPTER FORTY THREE

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

CHAPTER FORTY NINE

PROLOGUE

Hannah Kemp screamed, but the horrified cry died in her throat.

The massive fingers clamped around her mouth dug into the skin of her cheek, trapping several strands of her auburn hair. She jerked to the side, trying to break free, but a muscular arm held her like a vise. Something pricked her shoulder—sharp like a needle—and an icy pain shot down her arm.

Her fingers tingled as the man dragged her petite frame across the dark parking lot of Wally’s Place. The heels of her black leather pumps scraped the gravel as her eyes sought out the door of the bar. A country western tune blared from the old wood-sided building, reverberating in the cool night air. If she were able to call out, would anyone even hear her?

She chomped her teeth, trying to bite the man’s palm, but it was no use. She couldn’t grab onto his flesh.

Please, someone help me!

Her arms were numb as the man yanked her toward an old sedan parked at the edge of the lot. Panic hit her as she realized that she could no longer move her hands. Her feet and legs tingled as though they’d fallen asleep.

Claire! Kevin! Someone! Come out of the bar!

The man shoved her into the open rear door of the sedan. As he heaved her body further up the seat, her head bumped the handle of the opposite door. He’d disabled the car’s interior lights. In the darkness, no one would be able to see her struggling against him. If her friends exited the bar now, they would never know that she’d been captured. He released his grip on her mouth for a split second.

Hannah screamed out again.

But her shriek was cut off as he stuffed a wad of cloth onto her tongue, sealing her lips closed with a piece of duct tape.

Her brain shouted for her to kick out, to fight, but her feet refused to move. Her arms and legs lay slack, heavy.

I’m paralyzed!

Tears sprang to her eyes as she realized that she was helpless. That the man could do anything he wanted, and there was no way for her to fight back.

The sedan shuddered as the man slammed the rear door shut.

Who was he? And why had he chosen her? She hadn’t been able to get a good look at his face in the heavy shadows of the parking lot. Was he a former client? A competitor? Someone who’d lost out in a bidding war and now sought revenge? Or did he want something else?

Hannah was an attractive woman—or so she’d been told. But at forty-two years of age, she didn’t consider herself a prime target for a sexual assault.

Did he plan to demand a ransom payout? Her real estate firm had grown successful over the years, but Sparks County wasn’t sitting on a gold mine. The property values ranked in the lower range for Tennessee, and the turnover rate was modest. Although she enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle, she wasn’t rich. And the majority of what she did have wasn’t liquid. There was no pile of cash to pay for her freedom.

But the man might not realize that.

He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

I done just like you said, the man stated, his voice just above a whisper.

Who was he talking to? Was someone else in the car? Hiding in the front passenger seat?

The sedan rocked as the tires hit a rut in the gravel drive leading onto the highway. Where was the man taking her? Back to his home? Or would he dump her somewhere? Maybe he—and the person he was talking to—just wanted to scare her. Maybe they’d let her go.

Or maybe…

Fear flooded Hannah’s heart.

Kidnapping was a felony that carried a long prison sentence. The man had made no attempt to hide his face as if he didn’t care whether or not Hannah could identify him later. If her abductors let her go, they’d risk being caught. There was only one way the man could guarantee that he wouldn’t end up locked behind bars.

He would have to kill her.

The tires hummed on the asphalt as they sped down the highway. There were no streetlights to guide the way. Hannah pressed her eyes closed and tried to visualize where they might be. She knew the county well, could map the roads in her mind.

The car’s blinker clicked on, and she felt them turn right. A few miles later, they veered right again. And then the sedan turned left. The tires bit into gravel as they left the paved road.

A chill swept over Hannah. She knew where they were.

The sedan rolled to a stop beneath a dim pole light. The man murmured something to the person hiding next to him in the front, but Hannah couldn’t make out the words. He hopped out of the driver’s seat and circled around to the rear passenger side of the car.

A gust of wind ripped across her body as he yanked the rear door open. He grabbed her beneath the armpits, pulled her out of the back seat, then hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of cattle feed. In the glow of the parking lot light, Hannah caught a clear view of the front passenger seat and floorboard as he swerved toward the nose of the sedan.

They were both empty. No one else was in the car.

The man whispered to himself—words that made no sense—as he carried her from the parking lot toward the tall chain-link fence topped with razor wire. A rancid chemical odor filled her nostrils, whipped up by the late November breeze. The double metal gate—wide enough to drive a dump truck through—jangled as it swung open.

Hannah’s head bobbed against the small of the man’s back as he hauled her into the yard of the hazardous waste landfill. Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her forehead. She could only think of one reason for the man to bring her here.

To dispose of her body.

The man’s footsteps morphed into a soft thud as they left the gravel drive and hit the earthen ramp topped by a layer of sand. Down they went, descending into a deep pit carved into the earth. The noxious odor grew stronger, stinging the back of Hannah’s throat. As the man carted her farther into the hole, rows of bright orange drums popped into view, a black skull and crossbones emblazoned on their sides.

Did he plan to bury her alive along with the toxic waste?

The man stopped between two rows of barrels and dropped her on the ground.

The sudden jolt to her back almost stole her breath away. He looked at her and smiled, his cold, soulless eyes boring into her own. She’d never seen the man before. He reached into the pocket of his jacket.

Terror shot through her heart when she saw what his hands held.

Two wooden dowels with a length of cord stretched between them.

A garrote.

The man chuckled. Reckon how many times I can tighten this rope around your skinny neck before you die?

Hannah screamed again, although she knew no one could hear her.

CHAPTER ONE

Ashley Hope scowled at the red and white sign fastened to a wooden fence post.

NO TRESSPASSING.

Her stomach knotted with anxiety as she ignored the warning and steered her sedan onto the long, rutted dirt driveway flanked by hardwood trees, which lead to the farm of Chester Luckadoo. Her visit to the known criminal’s home—nestled in the fertile mountain valley in Laurel County where she’d been born and raised—had nothing to do with her recent work for the TBI. Her temporary assignment as a special agent with the Tennessee Bureau had ended. Today, Ashley wouldn’t be shielded by a badge; she’d be confronting Chester as a civilian.

Her older brother, Kyle, shifted his position in the passenger seat.

You sure you don’t want me and Shane to handle this? he asked, concern clear in his blue eyes. Ain’t no shame in turning around.

She’d had the same conversation with her younger brother earlier that morning.

Kyle, I know that you and Shane want to protect me—and I love you for it—but the Luckadoos will never take me seriously if I let my family fight my battles. They’ll hound and harass me forever.

Ashley realized that the only way to gain the respect of the Luckadoos, and end their game of stalking, was to swallow her fear and face Chester in person. Not an easy task when the family’s patriarch had threatened her life.

Kyle sighed and pulled a hunting cap on over his shaggy blond hair.

Chester should be glad you killed Troy, he said. The way I hear it, Troy done turned his back on his kin the minute he became a deputy. He was a stain on their name.

Maybe someone was happy that Troy was gone but not Ashley. She regretted how things had ended. She’d never wanted to kill the man. She wished his fate could have been decided by a judge and jury, not a gunshot. However, her feelings wouldn’t absolve her of guilt in Chester’s eyes.

She’d heard the same stories accusing Troy of turning his back on the Luckadoos, but Appalachian blood ran thick and family ties were deep, especially in Laurel County. The fact that Chester’s nephew had abducted and murdered three people, and that Ashley had killed him in the line of duty, proved to be a moot point.

The mountain folk enforced their own brand of justice. And they had their own ways of evening a score.

According to a bragging member of the Luckadoo clan, Chester had commanded his band of relatives to shadow Ashley as she worked on a TBI homicide case in another county. They’d run her vehicle off the highway, had taunted her with mysterious phone calls, and had even broken into her motel room. And once the murder investigation had concluded, they’d followed Ashley to her new apartment in the Nashville suburb of Briarwood, leaving a threatening message on the windshield of her car. Of course, they’d left no proof of their deeds behind. Nothing that could be used in a court of law.

Think of what it will mean for the Hope family name if I act like a scared rabbit instead of standing my ground, she said.

Kyle met her gaze. His expression revealed that he knew she was right.

Ashley had grown tired of feeling as though she had to constantly be on guard. She had become sick of agonizing over whether the clan’s stunts were only designed to scare her, or if they actually planned to kill her. Regardless of their ultimate goal, it was time to meet the patriarch head-on. She had to put an end to the Luckadoos escapades. Now.

She just hoped Chester wouldn’t be reckless enough to shoot her on the spot.

The dense forest lining the dirt drive fell away, replaced by wire-fenced pasture sparsely dotted with Hereford cattle. After cresting a small hill, a white farmhouse—likely built more than a century prior—popped into view.

As Ashley’s sedan rolled to a stop behind a gray pickup, wild barking pierced the air. A pair of brown Pit Bulls lunged toward the direction of her car, fighting against the chains that bound their collars to a wooden post on the left side of the farmhouse’s long, narrow front porch.

The welcoming committee.

Ashley switched off the engine and peered through the windshield at the windows of the farmhouse. A chill swept through her body. Already, she could feel eyes on her. Chester and his sons had probably known Kyle and Ashley were on the property as soon as the sedan had passed the No Trespassing sign.

Kyle touched her forearm in a supportive gesture.

You sure as hell ain’t no rabbit, he said, a hint of pride in his tone.

Although her stomach trembled, she forced a weak smile onto her lips and nodded. Her attention jerked back to the two barking Pit Bulls. She might not be a rabbit, but there was no way she could make it up the porch steps to knock on the door. Ashley would be forced to settle her differences with Chester in the yard, which would likely prove safer than going inside anyway.

She jumped as the front door of the farmhouse banged open. A tall man, with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in jeans and a red flannel shirt marched onto the wooden porch. His arms cradled a semiautomatic shotgun.

Chester Luckadoo.

Ashley’s heart hammered in her chest as she unlatched her seatbelt. Her hand snapped to the Smith & Wesson nine-millimeter holstered in the waistband of her jeans, just to reassure herself that it was still there. Although Kyle was armed as well, she knew that they were outnumbered. There were likely three rifles trained on them at that very moment, aimed by Chester’s three sons who lived in trailers scattered around the farm. She couldn’t see the man’s sons—they were well-hidden—but she could feel their presence.

Taking a deep breath, Ashley glanced at Kyle, and then slid out of the driver’s seat of the sedan.

Chester glared at her from the top of the porch steps.

You ain’t got no right to be on my property, gal, he yelled above the din of the Pit Bulls.

With her hands in full view—so the sons could see that she didn’t currently pose a threat—Ashley inched toward the farmhouse, stopping on the dirt path just outside the dogs’ reach. Kyle followed, remaining just behind her to the right.

As the Pit Bulls strained against their chains, they bared their teeth. Their barking morphed into a chorus of low, warning growls.

That’s true, Ashley began. But it’s also true that you don’t have a right to harass me and my family.

I ain’t got no idea what you’re talking about.

Chester aimed the shotgun at the center of her chest. Give me one good reason not to blow you away right now.

Ashley’s pulse quickened.

Because you’re not stupid, she said, struggling to keep the fear from her tone. Too many people know that we’re out here.

In truth, only her father and younger brother, Shane, knew that she and Kyle had traveled to Chester’s farm. She hoped that was enough.

Chester stood still for a moment, seeming to ponder the situation. Finally, he pointed the muzzle of his weapon toward the ground.

State your piece then, he said.

Ashley forced herself to appear calm. People around town are saying that you ordered the fire at my family’s auto shop.

The blaze had been set in the lobby area of Hope’s Automotive Repair a few days after Troy’s death. Although the shop had been closed at the time, Ashley’s cousins had been working in the garage. Fortunately, they’d managed to escape without injury.

A smile raised the corners of Chester’s lips. I ain’t never put much stock in rumors.

Well, it’s not just gossip that brought me here, she stated. Do you see the white paper sticking out of my pocket? She motioned to the left breast of her jacket. I’d like to show it to you.

All right.

Keeping her movements slow and precise, Ashley slid the note from her pocket and unfolded it. She held the paper up so that Chester could see the block-style letters, printed all in caps.

It read: YOU WILL DIE SOON.

One of your family members left this message on the windshield of my car.

The note was actually a photocopy. The original had been sent to the TBI lab for analysis. But no fingerprints—other than Ashley’s—and no DNA had been recovered.

Chester laughed. Is that so?

Ashley narrowed her eyes, hiding the fact that her heart quivered. This game that you’re playing needs to stop, she said, her voice firm. I can make your life just as miserable as you’ve tried to make mine.

He snorted. You threatening me, girl?

She realized that her actions could have dangerous consequences. But as it stood, her life was already at risk.

No, I’m just stating facts. You don’t grow up in Mettler Ridge without learning who the players are in the chop-shop network. I can have a team of TBI agents here by this afternoon. Agents with a warrant to search your farm. First, they’ll tear this place apart. And then they’ll follow your every move like a shadow. They’ll scrutinize your bank accounts, monitor each one of your financial transactions, and record all of your phone conversations from now until the day you die.

She let the warning hang in the air for a moment, giving it time to sink into Chester’s brain.

Ashley continued, Or … you and I can make peace. If you agree to leave my family and me alone, then I’ll leave you alone.

It was doubtful that the TBI would ever find cause to investigate the chop-shop network that plagued Laurel County, but Chester had no way of knowing that. He only knew that Ashley had been employed as a special agent—that she had connections.

Chester stroked the fore stock of his shotgun, his mouth set in a thin line.

Seeing as how Troy was fixing to kill that woman when you shot him, and how your daddy’s shop burned and all … well, I figure you and me are square.

Although Ashley felt a small sense of relief, her pulse continued to race. She was still on enemy ground. Anything could happen.

That’s good to hear, she said.

Chester nodded. But let me set you straight, he began. That message on your car didn’t come from no Luckadoo. That’s from somebody else you wronged.

Ashley’s breath caught in her throat.

Someone else?

In a roundabout way, Chester had admitted that his family started the fire at the auto shop. Why would he lie about the note? There would be no point.

Are you sure that one of your nephews or cousins didn’t write the message?

A smirk crossed his face. They don’t do nothing without my say so.

Ashley believed him, which meant that she had another enemy to worry about.

"Well, I won’t take up