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Not Today (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 8)
Not Today (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 8)
Not Today (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 8)
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Not Today (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 8)

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When a string of liberal young women are found murdered in the deep South, FBI Special Agent Camille Grace must hunt down the killer before he claims another. As she enters the world of white supremacists, potential suspects are everywhere; and yet Camille senses something much more personal—and sinister—in this killer’s motives. Can she crack the case in time?

“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

NOT TODAY is book #8 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 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.

Future books in the series will be available soon.

“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 dateSep 1, 2023
ISBN9781094395739
Not Today (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 8)

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    Not Today (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 8) - Kate Bold

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    N O T   T O D A Y

    (A Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 8)

    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 eleven books (and counting); the KAYLIE BROOKS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting); the DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); and the LAUREN LAMB FBI 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 Lyudmila Lucienne, 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)

    NOWHERE PURE (Book #8)

    NOWHERE SOUND (Book #9)

    NOWHERE SANE (Book #10)

    NOWHERE TRUE (Book #11)

    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)

    EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

    IN HIS BLOOD (Book #1)

    IN HIS SIGHTS (Book #2)

    IN HIS REACH (Book #3)

    IN HIS MIND (Book #4)

    IN HIS WAY (Book #5)

    IN HIS THOUGHTS (Book #6)

    IN HIS DREAMS (Book #7)

    DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

    OUT OF REACH (Book #1)

    OUT OF TOUCH (Book #2)

    OUT OF TIME (Book #3)

    OUT OF BOUNDS (Book #4)

    OUT OF LUCK (Book #5)

    LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

    SOMETHING KNOCKING (Book #1)

    SOMETHING CALLING (Book #2)

    SOMETHING WRONG (Book 3)

    SOMETHING DARK (Book #4)

    SOMETHING TO HIDE (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 ONE

    Anyone who thinks America is a well-educated and sophisticated place that has put its racist history in the past has clearly not visited the South recently. If you think the color of a person's skin doesn't have anything to do with how they are perceived or respected, I challenge you to take a weekend trip down the backroads of Mississippi, West Virginia, or Alabama.

    Twyla was speaking to herself—or, rather, her reflection. She held a few note cards in her hand, though she’d memorized the speech about a week ago. As she stared at her reflection, she considered those two opening statements. Were they too brutal? Maybe a little too confrontational?

    She hoped they were. As a black woman who had grown up in the American South, she knew it took the brutal truth to open people’s eyes. It took discomfort to stir action. She’d only been involved in these rallies and events for about a year now, but that was one of the more effective lessons she’d learned.

    Ah, but she’d also learned that some places weren’t ready to hear such hard truths. She'd had eggs thrown at her, she'd been hit in the face with a pie, she'd even been pelted with rocks. But the most memorable moment was during her second speech at a small convention in Alabama. Midway through her speech on how the educational system in the area could do a better job of preventing racially motivated assaults in the schools, a group of white folks in the crowd had thrown slices of watermelon and pieces of fried chicken on the small stage. She understood the reference; she had, after all, grown up in the South and lived in the shadow of stereotypes.

    That second speech is what had put her name on a relatively small map. Unhindered by the odd projectiles, she'd stopped her speech long enough to shrug and pick up a piece of the watermelon. She said Thanks to the crowd and ate it, taking bites between the lines of her speech.

    Fortunately, she’d not been assaulted in any way for the past few months. But whenever she looked out into a crowd, she saw them—the angry white folks that seemed to think they were still superior, that hated the idea that things were equal in other parts of the country and were determined to prevent it from happening in their neck of the woods. Of course, she knew that not all white people were like this. In fact, she knew that there were whole groups out there fighting for the same causes she was. But she's lived in the South most of her life and knew that the few rotten apples were indeed enough to make the entire cart spoil. Just a few were enough if the hatred was deep and generational.

    She wasn't sure if her speech in two days would keep that streak alive, though. She'd be speaking in a small Mississippi town where a white woman was currently on trial for murdering a black fifteen-year-old boy that had dared speak to her outside of a grocery store. It was all quite ridiculous in Twyla’s eyes. It made her feel like she was living in the 1950s—like they’d not made any ground as a country in the span of years that had passed.

    But that was why she had decided to keep at it. At the young age of just twenty-one, she knew that sometimes it was the small, unexpected voices that could often make the most difference. And as her name became a bit more recognizable with each event she spoke at, she started to feel her sense of purpose a bit more. She had no grand illusions of ever running for any sort of political office, but she figured she could maybe be the mouthpiece for the appropriate candidates.

    Too harsh, she admitted to herself, still reflecting on those first two opening lines.

    She made her way over to her laptop to tinker with the speech a bit. Her notecards were only for reference, making sure she didn’t accidentally skip over any points. The speech itself was only three and a half pages, which would take up less than ten minutes. Because of that, she had to make sure she got every word right, that she got in every bit of power and passion she could muster.

    As she began to read over it, there was a knock at her front door. It was eight at night, and she wasn't expecting company. She sighed when she realized it must be her boyfriend. Well, her ex-boyfriend as of about three weeks ago. They’d hung out twice since the breakup, and once o those had ended with an ill-advised trip to her bedroom. The idea of it wasn't terrible if she was honest with herself, but she needed to focus. And if she had to, she'd just be mean to him. Maybe that was what it would take to finally keep him away.

    She made her way out of her bedroom and through the small apartment on the other side, passing through the living room and adjoined kitchen. Yet when she reached the door, she didn’t think she needed to answer it after all. Someone had slid a note beneath it.

    It was written on a basic sheet of notebook paper, folded in half. Curious and still thinking it might be some cute tactic from her ex, she picked it up and unfolded it. The words were written in large letters with a black pen: I’M HERE FOR YOU!

    Here for what? she muttered.

    The comment could be taken many different ways. And it did seem like something Trevor would say to her because he knew she had a speech coming up—one she was particularly nervous about. But why the note? If he had come all this way and knocked on the door, why not just say it face-to-face?

    She read the note again, smiling slightly as she set it on her small kitchen counter. She nearly called out to him, sure that he was still standing on the other side of the door and hoping she’d open it to let him in.

    But when she opened her mouth to call and ask what the hell he was doing out there, the doorknob turned. She’d locked the door—it was the first thing she did when she arrived home and closed the door behind her—so the door didn’t open. Still, whoever was on the other side continued to turn it.

    Trevor?

    The rattling of the knob stopped for just a moment but then started up again. This time, there was some force to it, as if the person trying to open her locked door was angry that they couldn’t get in.

    So not Trevor, then, she thought. She'd never seen him angry. Besides, against her better judgment, he still had a key. He'd have no reason to fight with the locked door and—

    As if caused by her very thoughts, the knob stopped being jostled again. After a few seconds, she heard another sound as she took a step away from the door. It was the sound of a key sliding home into the lock. Maybe it was Trevor, after all. But if so, he was angry. Which didn’t really fit the theme of the letter he’d left.

    Trev—

    The door flew open, and the person on the other side most definitely wasn't Trevor. Twyla had never seen this person before in her life. Confusion sank in and was quickly overruled by fear.

    But by the time she wised up enough to start running away from the door and back into the bedroom, the intruder was already inside. They’d reached out and, just as Twyla turned around, grabbed her by the shoulder. She felt herself being pulled backward, and as she fell, her head struck the edge of the kitchen counter.

    Pain barreled through her skull, and she had just enough time to wonder if blacking out would be a blessing or a curse before the world went swimming away in a spreading sheet of black.

    CHAPTER TWO

    It had been less than thirty-six hours since Camille Grace had rescued a drugged thirteen-year-old girl from the back of a car. The car had been located behind a bar that was widely known to be entwined with the gang known as Boys of Gator Alley—a gang Camille was now quite certain somehow had a hand in her sister's disappearance.

    The man Camille had thwarted turned out to be a wanted felon by the name of Ashley Palmetto. It had taken some back-room meetings and borderline begging to Director McCutcheon, but Camille finally found herself entering the interrogation room to speak with Palmetto. Based on what a few other agents had told her, he had revealed pretty much nothing. he’d simply sat and partially napped on the metal table in the center of the room for the last day and a half. He’d barely touched any food they brought him and refused any deals they offered him. He'd remained silent even when he'd been presented with his rap sheet…and it was an impressive one.

    It was so impressive that Camille decided to read from a photocopy of it as she stepped into the interrogation room, finally able to speak with Ashley Palmetto for the first time.

    Evading police, intent to sell and distribute narcotics, and two different assault charges, she said. She slapped the folder down on the table and took the empty seat across from him. And a grand total of nine months in prison when it’s all added up.

    Palmetto smirked at her, but she could read mild discomfort in his eyes. Of course, that could easily be because he was hungry and tired.

    Nothing to say?

    Not really.

    Is that because you know I caught you in the act? Are you afraid of revealing little tidbits I’m not even aware of?

    Again, that scowl. And honestly, given that this man was a likely link to her sister, she wasn’t in the mood for criminals trying to seem tough.

    Well, I’m not sure how firm and direct the other agents have been, but I’m not going to pretty up the picture for you. We’ve got a thirteen-year-old girl that has been returned to a family that reported her missing two days ago from a small town almost seventy miles away. You your credit; she says you never did anything sexual to her. She did tell us how you and another man abducted her from a neighborhood sidewalk a small distance away from a friend's house. She also told us how you tied her up and threatened to kill her if she made a sound. She went on to tell us where you kept her up until the night you moved her—the night I happened to catch you behind that bar. She wasn’t able to give an address, but we know what the van looks like; we have a plate number and a very good description of the building. Do you know what that means, Mr. Palmetto?

    She saw that panic again and was happy to see that some of it were genuine—more than just the weariness and stress of having been inside an interrogation room for a day and a half.

    That means, Camille said after Palmetto still refused to peak, "that we have you on a charge of kidnapping at least. And once we find your partner and the address where this girl was held, I’m sure we’ll find a whole stack of things to charge

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