Last Shot (A Kaylie Brooks Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book 4)

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 real estate agent is killed during an open house, Kaylie must investigate a trail of mansions, meet their owners and prospective buyers—and uncover a truth more twisted than she could have imagined.



LAST SHOT is book #4 in a long-anticipated new series by #1 bestseller Kate Bold, whose bestseller NOT NOW (a free download) has 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.



Book #5 in the series—LAST MISTAKE—is also available.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Bold
• Release date: Jan 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094395777

Book preview

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L A S T   S H O T

(A Kaylie Brooks Psychological 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 © 2023 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 Volodymyr TVERDOKHLIB, 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

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

You think we can afford it? Charmaine Gibson whispered to her husband, Ronald.

She wasn't sure why she whispered. It wasn't as if anyone else could hear her, because they were standing in the middle of a living room so large and spacious that it was more like a ballroom. There was nobody else in sight.

Ronald muttered back to her, sounding frustrated. Babe, I don't even know what we're doing in here. It's like, we started off the day in a normal-sized house which I quite liked. Then we went to look at a bigger one. Then it was an even bigger one with grounds that would take the weekend to mow. And now we're here!

Charmaine pressed her lips together, tossing back her artfully highlighted hair, which had recently had an expensive coloring service done at a top salon.

You're the one who got the new job six months ago, and then the recent promotion. Being a hedge fund manager is very prestigious. You know, the company and your clients will expect you to live somewhere more spacious, and with decent sized grounds. It fits the image. You'll be able to invite all your clients to impress them with your lifestyle. People with money need to be impressed that way, to be confident to invest. Plus, it's closer to work.

By ten minutes. Not exactly a game changer, Ronald muttered, rubbing a hand over his thinning hair and adjusting the collar of his new, Ralph Lauren golf shirt. She liked it. It was a deep shade of wine red that set off her husband's green eyes. But right now, those eyes were narrowing in a stubborn way. She noted that. But she could be equally stubborn, in fact, worse. Especially since this was a lovely house. It was unique, with so much character. Retro, she decided. With all its interesting rooms, corridors, and doors, the house was charmingly retro, so different from today’s typical open plan homes with barely an internal wall to be seen.

Time is money. You're the one who always reminds me of that, Charmaine said, with a touch of steel in her voice. And Miami traffic can be terrible in rush hour. Snarl-ups can cause huge delays.

It's going to be too expensive for us, he frowned. And we don't need six bedrooms. What do we need six bedrooms for? We have one child! One!

But the child has friends. Tony can have sleepovers with all his school friends on weekends. And when your family or my family is here, they can all stay with us. You know that at some stage my mother might need to move in too.

Maybe we can rent out the rooms to tenants and get some revenue back, Ronald mumbled.

Ronald! I wouldn't want strangers living in our house! Is that seriously what you're suggesting? Charmaine sounded horrified.

I was joking, Ronald said.

Oh. Charmaine paused. It didn't sound like a joke. I mean, I don't think that's funny.

Anyway, we know it's going to be pricey. It won’t be cheap. Or even affordable, not in this area. I don't want my salary to hemorrhage away on a place that we don't need, and which will cost a fortune in upkeep. Even if it has ‘resale value’ at some future stage.

She glanced out of the huge picture window. The view is what sells it for me. It's just wonderful. Looking out at this view is worth any money. The property was on a hillside, with a spectacular view of the ocean. 

We don't need a house this big and this expensive, he insisted.

She turned and looked at him, a hard look in her brown eyes. It was the same look that had got her the nickname of Poison at school. She didn’t often use it on her husband, but when she did, she always saw him recoil from it.

This is the house for us. You know that, Ronald. It's a great house, with grounds to match. We'd be mad to let it go. Let's at least find out what the price is and what the seller will accept.

She knew he would capitulate. And he did. With a sigh, he said, Okay, let's go find that lady who met us here—what's her name?

Sandi. Sandi Taylor, the estate agent. She was very friendly and helpful.

When they'd arrived half an hour earlier, the thirty-something, slim brunette had been waiting at the front gate to greet them with a wide, friendly smile. Welcoming them like royalty, she’d given them a glowing introduction to the home and asked if they'd like to explore for themselves or have her walk them through.

It had been Ronald who'd refused her help. Charmaine had instinctively thought she'd be an ally in the process and had wanted her to come along. After they had opted to explore for themselves, Sandi had then said that she'd be waiting in the outdoor entertainment area by the pool when they were done.

Let's go and find her, she said. She was sure that this estate agent, with her flashing smile and charming sales patter, would help them secure the deal. It meant a lot to Charmaine to live in a fancy house. She'd never thought that she'd be able to afford living in a good suburb of Miami at all. But now that she'd married Ronald and he was doing so well in his work, she had discovered an edge of ambition inside her that she'd never thought was there.

It wasn't like Ronald wasn't in control of the home. Of course he was, being the breadwinner of the family! But she was the one who had to gently guide him in the direction of better life decisions, or they’d end up living in a . . . in a cabin in the woods, if he had his way.

She laced her fingers firmly through his and headed through the living room, past another room that she’d thought would make an incredible library and games room for the family, and out again to the sparkling pool where Sandi had said she’d be waiting.

Imagine enjoying this view every evening, while serving dinner al fresco! It was what they deserved, Charmaine thought with a pang. The only problem was that the view didn't contain Sandi. She was nowhere to be seen.

Sandi? Charmaine called, looking around.

You're wasting your breath shouting for her, Ronald said, sounding grumpy all over again. You think she'll hear you in a house this size, with so many rooms? She's probably showing another customer around upstairs. There were a few of them coming and going while we were looking. Let's leave and call her.

No, no! Another customer? Someone who could come in and make an offer, snatch the house out from under them? Plus, she knew that this suggestion of leaving was Ronald's escape route.

I'll call her now. I’m sure she’s nearby. That's a better idea. She grabbed her phone from her purse.

I don’t want to spend my life calling my family in my own home to find out where they are, Ronald grumbled, but Charmaine wasn’t listening.

She took out the estate agent's business card and dialed the number. It connected and rang. She listened to the ringtone, feeling impatient. Sandi needed to answer! Didn't she want to close this deal, didn't she understand how close Ronald was to leaving?

But it was Ronald who said, sounding confused, I hear it ringing.

What? Where? Sandi took her phone away from her ear and listened too.

Her husband was right. The phone was ringing from somewhere nearby. She could hear the distinctive, loud trill.

She must be inside there.

It was the formal dining room, another place that Charmaine had fallen in love with, because it was so opulent. Beautiful, red velvet curtains with gold ties, and the most magnificent wooden table that seated ten. It had a stunning view over the pool, while of course being air conditioned to comfortable coolness.

Sandi? Charmaine called again, stepping into the room, and looking around. Are you here?

I can't see her. Maybe she went back outside?

That's ridiculous. Why would she do that? Her phone was ringing! I can hear it!

What's that? Now there was a different note in Ronald's voice, a note that chilled Charmaine because of the raw concern in it.

What's what?

She looked in the direction that he was pointing and noticed that one of the far curtains was hanging loosely, its tie removed. And below it was Sandi. She recognized the white linen jacket she’d been wearing, now crumpled on the plush blue carpet.

Oh, no, what's happened?

Charmaine rushed over, together with Ronald, fearing that something was very wrong. Sandi had collapsed. Perhaps the likeable woman had heatstroke or low blood sugar or something worse, an epileptic fit even, Charmaine hazarded, feeling filled with concern, her basic first aid course from long ago already rushing through her mind.

But as she neared Sandi, Charmaine saw with a terrible sick feeling that this was not just a medical problem.

Sandi had not passed out.

She was lying on the ground, her eyes staring sightlessly up, her hands weakly curled near her neck as if she'd been struggling to remove something.

And with a terrible, sick feeling, Charmaine realized what the something was.

It was the gold cord of the curtain tie.

While they were upstairs, someone had tightened it forcefully around Sandi's throat, so that the tie cut deeply into her pale flesh. She had been strangled. Without a doubt, she was gone.

She’s dead! The words burst from Charmaine's lips as she clutched her husband's arm, unable to believe what had happened while they'd been upstairs discussing ceiling heights, finishes, and door handles. They hadn't heard anything, hadn't known, and would never have believed it possible until faced with the gruesome sight that they were now too late to prevent.

She's been murdered! she whispered, feeling cold and sick with shock.

CHAPTER ONE

Kaylie Brooks waited in the West Palm Beach coffee shop, sitting in the corner with her back to the wall, twisting her fingers anxiously through a lock of her honey blonde hair as she glanced at the early morning activity outside.

Call it instinctive, but she wanted to keep trouble at bay, where she could see it, while she waited for the person she was meeting to arrive. That was why she’d arranged this meeting for West Palm Beach, instead of Palm Beach itself. Palm Beach felt too much like enemy territory for this important get-together.

I can't carry on like this, she murmured to herself, pouring a glass of water from the bottle she'd ordered along with her large, black coffee. I need answers. She stared around the well-decorated shop, with its red, green, and white Italian themed decor, with football memorabilia cluttering the walls, and the air smelling deliciously of espresso.

Will someone be joining you, ma'am? the waitress asked.

Yes, someone should be here any minute. Please leave the menu.

At least, Kaylie hoped someone would be here, because if not, she was sunk.

The scrawled, graffiti-like words on her front door were still etched in her memory. Someone had written a threat directly on the entrance door of the home that she'd briefly shared with her new husband, Brett Brooks. That was before the series of events had played out that had proved him to be a murderous monster. Kaylie had been lucky to escape the same fate. Thanks to the chance arrival of someone next door who’d seen the commotion, Brett’s murderous agenda had been derailed. Her husband had been arrested and jailed for life.

But just a few days ago, Kaylie had received the shocking news that he'd been murdered while in prison. She didn't yet know the