Final Mistake (A Maggie Flight Suspense Thriller—Book Three) E-Book

Kate Bold

• Herausgeber: Lukeman Literary Management
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: A Maggie Flight Suspense Thriller
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 258

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

"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 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ CBI Agent Maggie Flight faces her most toxic case yet when a killer weaponizes marine life against beachgoers on San Diego's coast. With each crashing wave bringing a new victim, Maggie must dive into murky waters to catch a killer before the body count rises with the tide. This is BOOK #3 in a new series by #1 bestselling mystery and suspense author Kate Bold, whose bestsellers have received over 600 five star ratings and reviews. This gripping crime series navigates through unexpected turns, heart-pounding action, and startling twists and turns. With its addictive storytelling and intricate plot, this page-turner will have you burning the midnight oil, unable to put it down until you've unraveled every last clue. Fans of Lee Child, Kendra Elliot, and Robert Dugoni are sure to fall in love. Future books in the series 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 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Leseprobe

F I N A L

M I S T A K E

(A Maggie Flight Suspense Thriller—Book Three)

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);  the LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the KELSEY HAWK SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising nine books (and counting); the NORA PRICE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the NINA VEIL FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising ten books (and counting); OF the BARREN PINES PSYCHOLIGICAL SUSPENSE series, comprising seven books (and counting); and of the ADDISON SHINE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven 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.

BOOKS BY KATE BOLD

ADDISON SHINE SUSPENSE THRILLER

FIND ME (Book #1)

FIND HER (Book #2)

FIND HELP (Book #3)

FIND HOME (Book #4)

FIND HIM (Book #5)

FIND YOU (Book #6)

FIND HOPE (Book #7)

BARREN PINES

THE UNSEEN NEIGHBOR (Book #1)

THE UNSEEN WIFE (Book #2)

THE UNSEEN KILLER (Book #3)

THE UNSEEN WOMAN (Book #4)

THE UNSEEN PAST (Book #5)

THE UNSEEN GUEST (Book #6)

THE UNSEEN FACE (Book #7)

NINA VEIL SUSPENSE THRILLER

AWAY FROM HERE (Book #1)

AWAY FROM HIM (Book #2)

AWAY FROM HOPE (Book #3)

AWAY FROM HOME (Book #4)

AWAY FROM HUMANITY (Book #5)

AWAY FROM MERCY (Book #6)

AWAY FROM SIGHT (Book #7)

AWAY FROM YOU (Book #8)

AWAY FROM SANITY (Book #9)

AWAY FROM INNOCENCE (Book #10)

NORA PRICE MYSTERY

CAN’T RUN (Book #1)

CAN’T HIDE (Book #2)

CAN’T ESCAPE (Book #3)

CAN’T SLEEP (Book #4)

CAN’T FORGET (Book #5)

KELSEY HAWK MYSTERY

DEAD INSIDE (Book #1)

DEAD RECKONING (Book #2)

DEAD TO ME (Book #3)

DEAD SILENCE (Book #4)

DEAD TO DAWN (Book #5)

DEAD END (Book #6)

DEAD OF NIGHT (Book #7)

DEAD CALM (Book #8)

DEAD AND GONE (Book #9)

DEAD WRONG (Book #10)

DEAD COLD (Book #11)

DEAD QUIET (Book #12)

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)

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

PROLOGUE

“So, guess where I am now?” Holding her phone an arm’s length away from her, Sharon Roper turned slowly, keeping the angle just right, so that the screen could pick up her face, as well as the background. The shimmering wavelets, the immaculate sand, the unspoiled natural beauty of her surroundings were stunning. “Yup, I’m here on Two Mile Beach, outside San Diego, and it’s as beautiful as I heard it was. Maybe even more stunning. It’s pristine, and the water is unbelievably clear and calm. Like glass.”

She smiled for the camera, tossing back her curly brown hair in a carefree way, panned it around one last time, and then immediately sent the message to her friends.

They’d all be jealous that she’d managed to make the trip to this gorgeous part of California, having managed to schedule an extra day of leave after the conference had ended.

It was a social media conference, and she had been thrilled to be invited, along with some of the country’s leading media managers. She might only manage media for a small cosmetics firm in Alabama, but at the age of twenty-four, she had big career dreams, and she’d learned a lot at this seminar.

It had been fascinating; she'd networked up a storm, and now, she was taking a walk along one of the prettiest beaches in the country. She'd felt as if she was getting away from it all, driving away from the hotel and the conference center, the office blocks and the residential apartments that overlooked the sea closer to San Diego. This was a calm oasis, with nothing except sandy dunes and windswept shrubs stretching as far as the eye could see. Close to where she was standing, a quaint wooden fence displayed a few hand painted signboards for accommodation and restaurants nearby, as well as a couple of old notices for a drilling operation that had clearly never happened – and just as well.

Quickly, she posted her video on her own social pages. She’d been posting about work, work, work, and it was time for some fun and lightheartedness.

Of course, the post immediately prompted some responses. Nothing better than answering a few messages while looking out at the perfectly calm sea.

“That looks awesome, Shar! You got your bikini with you?”

“Nah. I thought it might be too cold for swimming,” she replied, fingers tapping over the keys with practiced speed.

“But girl, it’s April! That’s nearly summer!”

“Actually, it is warmer here than I expected,” she admitted. Walking over the sand, she bent forward and dipped a finger in the sea. “Water’s quite cold, though.” The waves were edging their way up the beach. High tide was coming in.

“Just strip off and swim in your underwear!”

“Haha. I’m not that person!” She added a couple of emojis.

She actually loved swimming, but she felt reluctant to do it so late, when she was alone and there wasn’t a soul around.

Actually, there was. She saw someone walking quickly ahead of her, as if they too might have been standing at this exact same lookout point, and then moved on.

It was getting dark, and the sun was a crimson stain on the horizon, and she knew that this was a fairly safe area, but even so, she was always careful as a woman on her own.

Taking care meant being aware of other people, and putting her phone away when she wasn’t using it, and not going romping into the sea in a bikini, or her underwear, for a solo swim when it was getting dark. Nope, she was too sensible for that.

Even though the man had walked away, she knew you always took care and never took chances.

Her phone buzzed again with another message from one of her friends.

“At least you could go ankle deep?”

She probably could do that. But before she did, she took another look around. Just in case. Because she’d thought that she was completely alone until she’d seen that man, and now there was a creepy feeling lodged in her mind. Had there been something strange about his stance, his attitude? The way he’d looked around as she’d approached – she’d noticed it, and maybe that had stuck in her mind, telling her something.

Had he gone, or was he still watching her?

That thought made her shiver.

Maybe it was just the solitude after three solid days that had been packed with other people, but she decided she wanted to make sure she was alone when she went into the sea, even if it was only ankle-deep with her pants legs rolled up.

She checked around, looking away from the glorious sunset, and scanning the inland area, too. Her heart sped up, thudding faster, because he was still there.

But as she turned, he began walking again, this time heading away from the beach. And as he walked, she thought that she saw him drop something. She distinctly saw an item tumble down, perhaps from out of his pocket, and land on the sandy beach.

“You dropped something!”

She called out the words instinctively, even though she had no idea what the item had been. It might have been something serious like his wallet accidentally slipping out of his pocket, or it might just have been a piece of trash dropping down to litter this spotless beach.

“Hey!” she called again.

Abandoning the idea of a paddle, she turned and marched after him. Whatever it was, he wasn’t picking it up, and that meant she’d better do it.

The light was fading, and she peered ahead in the gloom, but to her surprise, as she approached the object, she could see it clearly.

It was the most beautiful shell. Pearly pink, with a perfect curve to it, symmetrical edges, gently rounded, and it looked immaculate – not so much as a chip or a scuff on it.

What an incredible find. She knew that you weren’t really supposed to take seashells off the beach – that had been something they’d discussed at the conference in one of their focus groups on the ocean environment – but she couldn’t resist it.

He'd dropped it, and she'd found it, and it was the perfect memento to remind her of these special few days.

She picked it up. It felt smooth, heavy in her hand, a little bigger than her palm. It was so beautiful. A treasure that she’d found by chance and circumstance combined.

Glancing again at the exit point to the beach, she couldn’t see the creepy man there, which was good.

Admiring the shell again, she flinched suddenly, pulling her hand away. It wasn’t perfect. There was a rough, sharp part, and it had actually hurt her hand. It was as if a tiny needle had lodged itself in that shell.

“That’s nasty of you!” Where had that sharp piece even come from? Confused, she looked more closely, but to her surprise, she couldn’t get the shell in focus. The outline was blurry. Why wasn’t she able to hold it anymore? It thudded down onto the sand. There was a huge pressure in her lungs. Breathing was difficult. There wasn’t any air, and that bright red sunshine was fading to blackness, disappearing into a dark mist.

Panic surged inside her. What was happening? Had this shell been toxic? Had she accidentally been poisoned? She needed to call for help somehow. She had her phone right with her. The problem was that she couldn't move her arms.

Sand hit her face. As her eyelids fluttered, she thought she saw a figure striding over to stand in front of her.

It was him, that man. No chance for panic. Things were fading too fast. He stared down at her, nothing more than a faint silhouette before the last light vanished.

CHAPTER ONE

She wasn’t going to ask about him. No matter what happened or how the conversation went, she was not going to ask about her twin brother.

Maggie Flight reminded herself of that, as she and her mother drove through the backstreets of Los Angeles.

This was bonding time with her mother, they were on an important mission, and she was not going to mention Cole.

Even so, as she followed the directions on the maps app, she found that memories of her twin had lodged themselves in her mind and would not leave.

Perhaps it was the specific mission that she and her mother were on today that made those memories so difficult to ignore. After all, even though her mother had battled her demons all through Maggie's and Cole’s childhood, their lives were all intertwined, and so were her recollections of it.

She remembered the day when she and Cole were both eight years old at their birthday party. That day had been all the more special because her mother had been sober for it. It was one of the few times during her childhood that she had that particular memory.

They’d even had a cake – not a big, fancy one, but a cake nonetheless, with chocolate frosting and eight candles. With his green eyes sparkling and his dark red hair flopping over his eyes, Cole had the first go at blowing them out. With an almighty puff, he’d blown out seven of the eight, leaving just one flickering flame for her.

“Sorry, sis! I mean to leave you half,” he’d apologized.

She remembered that laughing apology. It stuck in her mind, all the more poignant because Cole didn’t often say sorry.

He hadn’t apologized the last time they’d seen each other, more than a decade after that birthday party, with the innocence and joy long stripped away. In its place, only suspicion, fear and doubt remained, because by then, Maggie knew what Cole was involved in. Some of it, anyway

She remembered Cole’s face the last time she’d seen it as lean and angular, his cheekbones prominent, his hair razored short. Memories surged of the hardness in his eyes and voice, and the whispered threat that had been delivered with deadly seriousness.

“You don’t get involved, and don’t ask questions, and don’t try to find me. Ever. And I mean it for your safety as well as mine.”

He’d turned to a life of crime, he’d gotten involved with gangs. For ten years, he’d disappeared, even though she’d done her best to search for him, and knew that he’d been seen in a gang boss’s offices a few years ago.

He’d been alive then, but what was he doing now? Had he turned his back on the life of crime? Would he ever reach out to her again?

Now, Maggie dragged herself away from those memories because they were approaching their destination, which was the closest animal shelter she'd been able to find.

“Are you sure you’re good with this?” she asked her mother.

Her mother nodded. Staring at her quizzically, Maggie thought she was looking less stressed than she had been the last time she’d visited her.

Two visits so far. After years of alienation, they were on the path to regaining a fragile rapport, mending a relationship that had been shattered, and devoid of trust.

Maggie had been astounded to discover that her mother had finally faced up to her demons of addiction, and that she’d been sober for months. She was holding down a part time job, and managing to pay her rent on time and look after herself.

That was just as well, because Maggie now worked for the Department of Justice in San Jose, as a Bureau special agent, and her mother’s home was a few hours’ drive away. If there was an emergency or a crisis, or if her mother fell off the wagon, Maggie wouldn’t be able to get there fast.

Worrying about her loneliness, and her need for friendship and support, Maggie had suggested she adopt a doggy friend.

And now, here they were, to meet Wilbur, the middle aged crossbreed whose owner had died a few weeks ago, and who’d been pining in the shelter since then. His photograph had been really cute, even though his eyes had looked forlorn and sad.

Maggie couldn’t help a flare of nerves as she parked in the small, paved lot outside the building. She hoped this was the right decision, and that it would result in more changes for the positive.

“This is exciting.” Her mother’s face was alight as they headed up the paved walkway to the shelter’s lobby. She’d even dressed up for the occasion. Her graying hair was tied back in a knot, she had some make-up on, and she was wearing a long sleeved top in dark, forest green.

That was also a color that suited Maggie, and she thought her mother looked good in it, her skin brighter, the fabric bringing out the color of her eyes.

“It’s a big moment,” Maggie agreed.

Inside, she couldn't stop feeling disbelieving that she was picking out a family pet for her mother, her sober mother. That they were reconnecting successfully, and that there had been no fights, no bitterness, no smashed bottles, neither of them storming out of the house.

Let it last, she prayed, wondering what Cole would think if he saw them now.

She pushed open the door and headed inside.

The receptionist, who looked like she might be a student volunteer, with her spiky pink hair and nose ring, was munching on a candy bar as she worked her way through an in-tray piled high with documents. A tabby cat was curled up in the out tray.

The receptionist quickly put down the candy as they walked in.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning,” Maggie said, glancing at her mother.

“We’re here to meet Wilbur,” her mother explained.

“Ah, yes, Mrs. Flight, you called yesterday? I hope you like him, because the boy’s pining here,” she said. “I’ll bring him now.”

She turned and opened a side door. As she headed through it, Maggie heard a volley of excited barking before the door closed again.

A few moments later, the receptionist was back, with a knee-high crossbreed trotting alongside. His coat was brown, his face whiskery, his ears fluffy, and Maggie couldn’t have guessed at his origins. Some terrier in there, maybe?

His tail started wagging hard when he saw them, and when her mother moved forward to pet him, Maggie had the strong feeling that this was going to be a match of love.

“Hello, Wilbur. Hello, boy,” her mother said, kneeling down on the floor so that the dog could lick her face. Maggie joined in, scratching Wilbur on his back and letting his damp, inquisitive nose sniff her hand. He seemed like a gentle, affectionate animal.

While her mother petted Wilbur, Maggie sorted out the paperwork, closely supervised by the cat.

“I’ll be paying the adoption fee,” she explained.

“Excellent. And do you live here in LA?” the receptionist asked chattily.

“No. I transferred to San Jose last year,” Maggie said.

“And what line of work are you in?” the receptionist asked, as the printer whirred.

“Law enforcement,’ Maggie said. “I work for the Department of Justice.”

“That’s interesting,” the receptionist observed. “I guess every day’s different and unexpected for you?”

Maggie nodded, with a grin. “Much like rescue, I’m sure,” she said.

“That’s the truth.”

“I walk shelter dogs in San Diego, near to where I live, on the weekends when I have time,” she admitted, earning an approving nod from the receptionist.

“It means so much for a dog to be walked and played with and get out and about. Even a little bit of activity once a week is so much better than none at all.”

The application form was done, and Maggie handed it back.

“So, how are you getting on with Wilbur?” the receptionist asked her mother.

That was easy to see. Her mother’s face was alight. She looked happier than Maggie had seen her since they reconnected. Now, her worry was being replaced by hope – that this companion could solidify her mother’s recovery, and help her with the struggle that all addicts faced daily.

It was a strange feeling, Maggie thought, that now, the roles were reversed. Her mother hadn’t been present for many of the pivotal moments in her own life, but now, she was here for this one, taking on the role of a supporter herself.

“I think he’s the perfect choice,” her mother replied. “So affectionate and cute and he's just the right size and I can see he's going to enjoy his walks.”

“Yes. I believe his old owner was an absolute stickler about walking him. It was only after her car crash that his life changed. It'll be great for him to go to a home where he can be walked again.”

“This is going to change my life as well as his,” her mother enthused. “Look at how his tail is wagging.”

“We’ll do the home inspection this week,” the receptionist said, “and then, you can fetch him anytime you like.”

Maggie felt a deep sense of relief that this had been the right decision and that her mother was going to be happy with her new furry companion. It was comforting to feel the old bad memories overlaid by these new ones, which were full of positivity. Both she and her mother were trying hard to keep the conversation in places where they knew it wouldn't go dark or take a wrong turn.

Except, last time they'd spoken, her mother had mentioned that Cole had called her a year ago. It sounded as if he'd been in trouble, but her mother couldn't remember the conversation because she'd been drunk.

Since then, she'd gone sober. Maybe that call had finally been a contributing factor. What had happened to Cole during that year? Had he escaped his trouble? Maggie might never know. But if he called again, well, that was where the hope lay, because now her mother was sober. And she would remember what he said.

At that moment, Maggie's phone rang. Looking at the number, she raised her eyebrows. This was the office calling. It was a Sunday and that meant there was an emergency.

She stepped outside to take the call.

“Maggie Flight speaking?”

“Maggie.” The stern voice on the other end belonged to her boss, Director Simmons. “We've had a new case called in, and I need both you and Jamie Rodriguez on board.”

Maggie's pulse pounded. On a Sunday, this meant it was urgent.

“What case is it?” she asked.

“It's in San Diego. I’ve just flown here to be briefed on it, and I’ll give you the details when I see you. It has similarities to the last case you two handled successfully. Rodriguez is on his way to the airport now. I want an emergency meeting with you, to brief you on it, this afternoon. It's a delicate case, and I must warn you that it's liable to explode at any moment and cause widespread panic.”

“I'll be there.” Already, she was calculating the distance and the time it would take to drive there. Probably a couple of hours. She'd have another hour with her mother but couldn't afford any more time. Not if she had to get to that meeting. “I'm actually in Los Angeles now, so I can drive straight there.”

“Good, that simplifies things. I'll book a flight for Rodriguez and see you in the San Diego offices at three thirty.

An urgent case with similarities to the previous big case that she and Rodriguez had handled? Maggie couldn't help a flicker of doubt, because the last case they'd handled hadn't seemed like murder at all – until the truth had come out.

CHAPTER TWO

If there was ever a time when law enforcement offices felt quiet, it was on a Sunday afternoon. As Maggie hurried into the unfamiliar satellite office of the Department of Justice in San Diego, she felt a sense of hushed expectancy in the air, as if the place was awaiting the Monday morning return of footsteps, the trilling of phones, doors slamming, and the crackle of radios as agents headed in and out.

She felt expectant as well. What was this case about? Why was it so sensitive? And why was it likely to cause an explosion of panic?

Another set of footsteps approached from the other end of the corridor. They belonged to her partner on this new case, Jamie Rodriguez. She was glad to be paired up with him again. By the end of the last case, they'd worked together seamlessly. That level of teamwork could prove the deciding factor in a tough case, and she knew that this was going to be tough.

They met at the elevator.

“Hey there, Maggie,” he greeted her.

“Hi, Jamie,” Maggie said. “How was your flight here?”

“Quick and easy, if unexpected,” he grinned. “You were up here already?”

Maggie nodded.

Even though it was a weekend, Jamie looked every inch the sharp agent. He was wearing a dark suit that matched his neatly cut hair, a burgundy tie, and a crisp white shirt. Glancing at him, Maggie took in his handsome good looks, feeling a warmth inside her that she couldn’t suppress, as she looked into his dark eyes.

Because she’d been visiting her mother and hadn’t had a chance to change her clothes, she was wearing navy chinos, a sky blue top with long sleeves that covered her tattoos, and her favorite pair of boots.

Over and above the expectancy surrounding the case, she felt a slightly self-conscious vibe between the two of them.

Maybe that was because of what had happened over the past few weeks. Outside of working hours, they'd seen each other a couple of times. They were both fairly new arrivals in San Diego, and after the last case, they'd made a plan to explore the city together. So, they'd been to a market one weekend, and hiking on another weekend.

Those outings had been fun. It wasn't like anything had happened between them. Each time, they'd ended with the promise to do another outing soon, and they had done. They’d been getting closer in a friendly way, but the physical side? Maggie knew she was attracted to him, but didn’t know how he felt. She wasn’t usually shy, but right now, when it came to these personal matters, she was tongue-tied.

Understandable, since anything that happened – or didn’t – between them, would also affect their working relationship, she thought. Perhaps that was why there was this awkwardness now.

As the elevator headed to the meeting room on the top floor, Maggie did her best to fill the silence.

“You know anything about this case?”

“Not a thing.” Jamie shook his head. “All I know is that it sounds urgent and that we wouldn't be called in on a Sunday afternoon if it wasn't an emergency. Normally it would be in our in-tray on a Monday, wouldn't it?”

“Simmons told me that it had some parallels to the last case. But she wouldn't say what they were, just that at any moment, things would explode.”

“You know more than I do then. But we didn't know the last case was murder at first.”

“That's also what I'm wondering if the parallel is,” Maggie said.

Jamie cleared his throat. “So, you were in LA when the call came in? I was expecting to meet you on the helicopter.”

“I was visiting my mother,” Maggie explained. “I drove to LA first thing this morning. I'm helping my mom pick out a shelter dog to be her friend. That was the reason for my visit. Because right now, she needs –” She'd said enough. It would be better not to explain further about her background. She hadn't yet told Jamie what she'd endured during her childhood, that her mother had been an alcoholic, and that her twin brother had gone over to the dark side, although she didn't know how badly or even if he was still alive.

It all seemed like far too much to explain at all right now, never mind on a short elevator ride.

She could see from his curious glance that he was wondering what she had been going to say.

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Up on this floor, it was very quiet. She couldn't hear a sound as she and Jamie walked in step along the corridor. Maggie took a deep breath, seeing that the meeting room door was ajar.

She walked inside, and Director Simmons looked up from her seat at the long conference table. As always, Maggie had the unsettling impression that the director's pale gaze speared her. Simmons was wearing a dark power suit, her platinum hair in an immaculate bob. Maggie guessed there would be severe consequences for any hairs that were rebellious enough to stray out of place.

“Agents, thank you for coming in on the weekend. Now, this case has been urgently referred to us.” With only the briefest introduction, Simmons forged ahead with business. “We've had two deaths in the past twenty-four hours. Both were on a remote beach south of San Diego known as Two Mile Beach.”

“What were the causes of death?” Maggie asked.