You’ll Be First (A Megan York Suspense Thriller—Book Four)

By Ava Strong

A body is found on a draw bridge, strung up as a mysterious signature of a new serial killer. Small town cop and single mom Megan York must struggle to stop this new killer before he strikes again—while keeping her daughter safe from her violent ex, and keeping her past at bay. With threats looming from both sides, Megan must wonder: can she handle it?



“The plot has many twists and turns, but it is the ending, which I did not see coming at all, that totally defines this book as one of the most riveting that I have read in years.”

—Reader review for Not Like Us



You’ll Be First is Book #4 in a long-anticipated new series by #1 bestseller Ava Strong, whose bestseller NOT LIKE US (a free download) has received over 1,000 five star ratings and reviews.



A page-turning crime thriller full of jaw-dropping twists and packed with heart-pounding suspense, the Megan York mystery series introduces a brilliant new female protagonist and will keep you on the edge of your seat. Fans of Rachel Caine, Teresa Driscoll, and Robert Dugoni are sure to fall in love.



More books in the series are also available!



“This is a chilling, suspenseful page turner that just might leave you scared at night!”

—Reader review for Not Like Us



“Very intriguing, kept me turning page after page… Lots of twists and turns and a very unexpected ending. Cannot wait for the next in this series!”

—Reader review for Not Like Us



“A roller coaster ride of events… Can’t put down until you finish it!”

—Reader review for Not Like Us



“Excellent read with very realistic characters that you become emotionally invested in… Couldn't put it down!”

—Reader review for The Death Code



“An excellent read, lots of twists and turns, with a surprising ending, leaving you wanting to read the next book in the series! Well done!”

—Reader review for The Death Code



“Well worth the read. Cannot wait to see what happens in the next book!”

—Reader review for The Death Code



“Quickly became a story I couldn’t put down! I highly recommend this book!”

—Reader review for His Other Wife



“I really enjoyed the fast-paced action, plot design and characterization... I didn't want to put the book down and the ending was a total surprise.”

—Reader review for His Other Wife



“The characters are extremely well developed… There are twists and turns in the plot that kept me guessing. An extremely well written story.”

—Reader review for His Other Wife



“One of the best books I have ever read… The ending was perfect and surprising. Ava Strong is an amazing writer.”

—Reader review for His Other Wife



“Holy cow, what a rollercoaster… Many times I absolutely KNEW who the killer was—only to be proven wrong each time. I was completely surprised by the ending. I have to say, I am thrilled that this is the first in a series. My only complaint is that the next one isn't out yet. I need it!”

—Reader review for His Other Wife



“An incredible, intense, spellbinding, enjoyable story. It will keep you captivated until the end.”

—Reader review for His Other Wife

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ava Strong
• Release date: Nov 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094331010

Book preview

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y o u’ l l   b e   f i r s t

(a megan york suspense thriller—book 4)

a v a   s t r o n g

Ava Strong

Ava Strong is author of the REMI LAURENT mystery series, comprising six books (and counting); of the ILSE BECK mystery series, comprising seven books (and counting); of the STELLA FALL psychological suspense thriller series, comprising six books (and counting); of the DAKOTA STEELE FBI suspense thriller series, comprising six books (and counting); of the LILY DAWN suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); and the MEGAN YORK FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting).

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

Copyright © 2023 by Ava Strong. 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 kasakphoto, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

BOOKS BY AVA STRONG

MEGAN YORK FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

YOU’LL BE SORRY (Book #1)

YOU’LL BE NEXT (Book #2)

YOU’LL BE MINE (Book #3)

YOU’LL BE FIRST (Book #4)

YOU’LL BE GONE (Book #5)

LILY DAWN FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

STILL ALIVE (Book #1)

STILL HOPE (Book #2)

STILL AWAKE (Book #3)

STILL HERE (Book #4)

STILL MAD (Book #5)

REMI LAURENT FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

THE DEATH CODE (Book #1)

THE MURDER CODE (Book #2)

THE MALICE CODE (Book #3)

THE VENGEANCE CODE (Book #4)

THE DECEPTION CODE (Book #5)

THE SEDUCTION CODE (Book #6)

ILSE BECK FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOT LIKE US (Book #1)

NOT LIKE HE SEEMED (Book #2)

NOT LIKE YESTERDAY (Book #3)

NOT LIKE THIS (Book #4)

NOT LIKE SHE THOUGHT (Book #5)

NOT LIKE BEFORE (Book #6)

NOT LIKE NORMAL (Book #7)

STELLA FALL PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER

HIS OTHER WIFE (Book #1)

HIS OTHER LIE (Book #2)

HIS OTHER SECRET (Book #3)

HIS OTHER MISTRESS (Book #4)

HIS OTHER LIFE (Book #5)

HIS OTHER TRUTH (Book #6)

DAKOTA STEELE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

WITHOUT MERCY (Book #1)

WITHOUT REMORSE (Book #2)

WITHOUT A PAST (Book #3)

WITHOUT PITY (Book #4)

WITHOUT HOPE (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

PROLOGUE

Wyatt waddled hurriedly through the frigid morning air toward his station at the bridge operator’s booth – but as he judged by the first streaks of dawn light peeking over the horizon, he was already late.

The bus he relied on had always run on time, at least until that morning. But he should've known that wasn't something to take for granted. At least he knew then just how much of a priority he needed to make buying a car of his own. Even if it was some ancient, decrepit lemon he needed a payday loan to afford, it'd be worth it.

Wyatt used to be ‘the local troublemaker’ around Twin Lakes. Or at least, he knew that’s what deputy sheriff Megan York always used to call him, whenever she brought him in for all the troublemaking he used to get up to. But in the last few months, he’d built up the courage to finally try and turn his life around. He’d found himself a job that he could hold down for more than a few weeks, and it wasn’t the kind of job for which he could show up late.

Fortunately, as he finally sat down in the chair behind the operator’s booth, he saw that the only lights on the water were still a few minutes away – he’d been just in time, then. There hadn’t yet been any collisions with his drawbridge during his tenure as its operator, and he intended to keep it that way.

But even though it was clear he’d avoided responsibility for any kind of accident, he didn’t find himself calming down easily. It was only a few degrees above freezing, and it felt like the cold itself was keeping him on edge. He held his coffee close to his chin, trying to thaw himself out a bit with its warmth, as he watched the first lights on the first boat of the morning grow closer.

Before the vessel was quite in range, Wyatt decided to start raising the bridge. It was clear there weren't any motorists coming in either direction, anyway. He took a sip from his coffee, then turned the key in the operator's console and pressed the button to start the lifting mechanism.

But as the bridge raised and the boat drew still closer, it slowed down and then stopped in the water. The searchlight on its prow swiveled from the bridge, then flickered over Wyatt's window in the operator's booth. The sudden brightness blinded him unexpectedly for a moment, just as he heard the boat's horn sounding.

Oh, come on… Wyatt muttered to himself. What’s the big idea? I was doing you a favor!

He looked to his right, toward the other side of the drawbridge. No boats coming the other direction. But the vessel in the river in front of him wasn’t budging. On a distant bend of the communicating road, he saw headlights of the first traffic headed for his now-raised drawbridge.

But someone on the boat below only flashed the light again over his window and blew the horn again.

Wyatt was starting to get pissed off. He didn't want anyone else to be late for their jobs because they'd gotten held up at his drawbridge. Grabbing his personal flashlight from underneath the console, he flicked it on, then stormed out of the operator's booth. With the flashlight lifted over one shoulder, he stomped down the bank a few paces, gesturing for the boat to proceed with his other hand.

What's the hold-up?! You're more than small enough to fit underneath… and it doesn't go any higher, you know! he yelled. It's not like there's a troll under there–

His words died completely in his throat. In shock, his flashlight fell from his hands.

He'd finally looked back over his shoulder. For the first time that morning, he saw the underside of his drawbridge.

Suspended by its neck underneath one raised side of the bridge – illuminated in the morning darkness only by the boat’s spotlight – swung the limp form of a human body.

CHAPTER ONE

C'mon, Emma! You're gonna be late! Megan called to her daughter from the entryway of their home as she finished stepping into her work boots.

She heard a muffled response from the other room, and spared a moment to take another peek through the blinds. The school bus was conspicuously missing from its spot outside the stop.

There weren’t usually many other children waiting at the stop, considering their town was so small. But the school bus itself had never been late before. Maybe the bus driver was sick, or something. Either way, it was looking like she’d probably have to drop Emma off herself, Megan thought. Just like old times.

Despite herself, she couldn’t help but smile slightly at that idea. Considering how fast her daughter seemed to be growing up, she had to admit that she cherished any little opportunity to bask in any nostalgic moments like those. Not that she didn’t love Emma just the way she was.

Just, that things had been simpler, back then. For so many reasons.

A twinge of bottled-up anxiety reminded her of its presence. But she took a deep breath, mostly managing to keep it repressed. She quickly finished getting ready, and looked back down the hallway expectantly.

Emma, honey – I don’t know if the bus is coming today, okay? she called back into the house patiently. It's looking like I’ll have to drop you off, so let’s get going quick so I’m not late, either, okay?

At that, she finally heard off-balance footfalls rapidly padding toward her through the house. Emma appeared in the entryway, swaying awkwardly under the weight of her backpack as she ran toward the window.

The bus isn’t coming? Why? she asked, visibly pouting, as she looked through the blinds herself.

Megan knew better than to expect Emma to share her enthusiasm for an extra fifteen minutes of mother-daughter time. Emma had been enchanted by the novelty of her newfound independence. Even the best moms had a hard time competing with something like that.

I don’t know, Em. But let’s get your shoes on, okay? We can still both be on time if we go fast.

Emma was more than quick enough putting on her shoes and jacket. It was only a matter of seconds before she energetically hopped back up, raring to go, and Megan led the way out the door.

Do you have a science lab today? Megan asked, as Emma darted out in front of her. Or is there something else you're looking forward to–

"Hey, mom, wait! The bus did come! It’s right there!" Emma interrupted her.

She had practically skidded to a stop, turning back to look at Megan, a finger outstretched toward the bus stop.

Megan frowned, squinting. So it had, she saw. It must have just arrived.

Okay, bye mom! See you after school! Emma called over her shoulder.

She turned to run off in the direction of the waiting bus. Her gait was still wobbling as the weight of her backpack was thrown side to side with each footfall.

Oh– well, bye, honey! Megan said, pivoting quickly.

But despite the effort she made to sound cheerful – the truth was that she felt a sudden wave of anguish as she watched Emma run away. And not just from the disappointment of the missed conversation she had been looking forward to sharing during their car ride to school.

No, it came from something deeper. Something instinctual.

The image of a severed deer’s head flashed in her memory. The blood from its neck staining the stone of her doorstep. The anonymous ‘gift’ she had received not so long after ejecting Spencer from her life – Emma’s dad, and her toxic, violent ex.

That had been a frightening episode in its own right. It still was, considering Spencer was still out there, seething in his jealousy. But Megan knew it only represented a tiny fraction of the dangers that lurked in the world. Dangers she’d do anything to protect her daughter from.

And so, irrationally, as she watched Emma running away from her – away from her supervision, and control, and protection – she had the impulse to call after her. To yell out her name and beg her to come back to her open arms. And safety.

But another part of her knew she was thinking irrationally. Emma had to go to school. She had to grow up and start doing things on her own, whether Megan liked it or not.

So despite her strongest instincts, she did nothing but watch as Emma boarded the schoolbus. She kept staring for a few seconds longer after the doors had closed. Only once the bus had finally departed did she manage to turn away. With her gaze cast downward dejectedly, she began to trudge toward the parked police cruiser in her driveway.

She was dealing with trauma, she told herself. It was making her overestimate every potential source of danger. She needed to get a grip, she told herself. All of those worries – well, most of them, anyways – they were all in her head.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, before reaching fumblingly for the handle of the car door.

But when she finally looked up, for the first time that morning, seeing through the window of the driver's side door – she gasped.

The beginnings of her effortfully-cultivated calm instantly shattered.

Her hand instinctively went to her holster, and she whipped around, looking for any sign of Spencer – of anyone. But with the school bus gone, the quiet neighborhood street may as well have been a ghost town.

Slowly, apprehensively, she turned back to the car door. Laying her eyes again on the shattered glass of the passenger’s window coating the seat on that side, and the center console.

And as well – on the motionless form of a cat, which had clearly been savagely killed before being thrown through that broken window, and onto the driver’s seat.

CHAPTER TWO

After hastily parking her cruiser outside the warehouse in Millerville, Megan finally stepped out of the car – and out of the disgustingly stained cushion of the driver’s seat, stiff and lumpy from dried blood.

Before bee-lining for the access door of the warehouse, she gingerly wiped the seat of her pants with one hand. A thin residue of something gathered on her palm.

Once she finished suppressing a gag, that only served to infuriate her even further. She set off, starting off purposefully toward the warehouse.

She grimaced as she wrapped a film-covered hand around the door handle of the access door. It occurred to her that she'd have texted Lachlan an apology by then, explaining why she was going to be extra-late to work that morning. But she could almost feel herself being blinded by rage. She wasn't sure she'd be polite to Lachlan or anyone right then, even if they'd done absolutely nothing wrong.

She yanked the door open and stormed inside. A man she recognized was sitting at a desk by the entrance and looked up from a clipboard at her arrival.

Lieutenant York? And for what we owe the pleasure? Yonatan said genially, beginning to stand.

But Megan only spared him a brief glance. The fact that Spencer’s shift manager was present at least confirmed that she’d remembered his schedule correctly. But she wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries.

She scanned the warehouse floor for a few long seconds. But then she spotted him lifting a pallet into one of the trailers of a truck in one of the loading bays. Before she knew what she was doing, she was closing the distance.

Spencer only seemed to notice her approach when she was a few feet away.

Oh– Megan. I–

"Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing, Spencer?! she yelled at him. She drew herself up within Spencer’s natural guard, causing him to instinctively take a couple of steps backward. You are one sick bastard. You should be in a mental hospital, you know that? You’re sick."

Megan, what are you talking about? Spencer said, looking around nervously. Megan felt the surprised attention of the nearby warehouse workers, too, but at that moment wasn’t finding them hard to ignore.

I mean, the deer was one thing. You can hunt deer. But a cat!? That's animal abuse, you know. I could arrest you right now. Weren't you worried that Emma could have seen it? I was just about to drive her to school – I don't know what kind of nightmares you want her to start having! Don't you care about her? Or was that all a lie, too? This whole time, have you just been making that up!?

Megan finally ran out of breath and had to pause her tirade. For a moment, she only watched the development of Spencer's stunned expression. Her whole torso continued to heave tangibly up and down with her rapid, adrenaline-fueled breathing.

Spencer carefully brought up one hand in a defensive gesture.

Megan – I don’t know what this is about, but – maybe there’s been some mistake.

Another flare of anger shot