Her last breath, p.1
Her Last Breath, page 1
Her Last Breath
A Charlotte Finn Mystery Thriller
Kate Gable
Byrd Books LLC
Contents
Copyright
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About Kate Gable
Also by Kate Gable
About Girl Forgotten
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
3. Kelly
4. Kelly
Chapter 5
6. Kelly
7. Kelly
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
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Also by Kate Gable
Copyright
Copyright © 2021 by Byrd Books, LLC.
All rights reserved.
Proofreaders:
Julie Deaton, Deaton Author Services, https://www.facebook.com/jdproofs/
Renee Waring, Guardian Proofreading Services, https://www.facebook.com/GuardianProofreadingServices
Cover Design: Kate Gable
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a word of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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About Kate Gable
Kate Gable loves a good mystery that is full of suspense. She grew up devouring psychological thrillers and crime novels as well as movies, tv shows and true crime.
Her favorite stories are the ones that are centered on families with lots of secrets and lies as well as many twists and turns. Her novels have elements of psychological suspense, thriller, mystery and romance.
Kate Gable lives near Palm Springs, CA with her husband, son, a dog and a cat. She has spent more than twenty years in Southern California and finds inspiration from its cities, canyons, deserts, and small mountain towns.
She graduated from University of Southern California with a Bachelor’s degree in Mathematics. After pursuing graduate studies in mathematics, she switched gears and got her MA in Creative Writing and English from Western New Mexico University and her PhD in Education from Old Dominion University.
Writing has always been her passion and obsession. Kate is also a USA Today Bestselling author of romantic suspense under another pen name.
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Also by Kate Gable
All books are available at ALL major retailers! If you can’t find it, please email me at
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* * *
Girl Missing (Book 1)
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Girl Lost (Book 2)
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Girl Found (Book 3)
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Girl Taken (Book 4)
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Girl Forgotten (Book 5)
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Girl Hidden (FREE Novella)
About Girl Forgotten
A young mother just starting her life over after a bad divorce is found murdered in the Los Angeles River. The prime suspects are her ex-husband, a member of a ruthless motorcycle gang, and a new boyfriend, a surfer with a mysterious past. It’s up to Detective Kaitlyn Carr to find out who did it.
Back in Big Bear Lake, Kaitlyn’s sister’s disappearance becomes a cold case and and her friend’s murder goes unsolved. But Kaitlyn refuses to stop looking for her little sister.
The town where she grew up is full of secrets and Kaitlyn must confront what really happened to her father in order to find her sister.
Will Kaitlyn be able to face the truth about her family’s past or will her sister remain lost forever?
This is the LAST and FINAL book focusing on Kaitlyn’s sister’s disappearance.
* * *
This suspenseful thriller is perfect for fans of James Patterson, Leslie Wolfe, Lisa Regan, L. T. Vargus and Karin Slaughter. It has mystery, angst, a bit of romance and family drama.
1
Sometimes if I’ve had too much of people, I like to go out into the desert, which has been a place of reflection for centuries. I like to come out here and breathe in the crisp air, feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders and just forget about the world for a while.
Los Angeles is basically a desert, with very limited water resources and just a little bit away from Palm Springs. I have the day off and I should probably spend it in bed doing nothing, relaxing, that kind of thing.
But for some reason, I don't want to.
I get into my car, blast some music and two and a half hours later, I find myself walking on the dry land, surrounded by mountains, reaching for the sky.
I have been here a few times, each time exploring a different hike. This time, I head to the waterfall in Tahquitz Canyon. It’s about a half mile walk and I scramble up the trail over the big boulders and jagged rocks.
The pamphlet up front said that I could see mountain sheep out here, but it's around ten a.m. and I know that most wildlife like to take naps during the middle of the day.
Families and couples pass me, holding hands, helping their children along the way to hear the sounds of nature. There’s a creek running down past me. The humidity is hovering around ten percent. I'm not used to the harshness of desert air, but the sky is piercing blue. The waterfall is visible from about fifty feet away, and I walk up to the crystal clear pool of water into which it dumps.
Somebody's trying to scramble a large, perfectly round boulder out in the distance. He pushes off nearby walls and launches himself to the top.
I wade into the water.
I'm not wearing a bathing suit, but I go waist deep anyway. I figure my shorts and underwear are going to dry by the time I get back to the car.
After taking a few pictures and selfies, I sit down on a jagged rock and enjoy the moment.
Luke, my boyfriend, is in Wichita now, spending time with his family. I was invited to go and I thought that I would, but when the time came, I had pushed him away.
Upset and annoyed with me, he went by himself, probably offering his family a tepid excuse, or perhaps, not saying anything at all.
I'm angry with myself, annoyed and frustrated. He's been the one good thing that has happened to me.
He was the one who came in and picked me up and put up with all of my crap, broke down all of my defenses. But then when it came down to it, I pushed him away.
I don't know why this relationship is so hard for me, except that's a lie.
I know perfectly well. My family life has been less than ideal to use coded psychological language. My parents had a toxic co-dependent relationship and my mom and I have always butted heads about practically everything. When my sister went missing, all of our scars that had been buried deep inside were brought up to the surface.
I’d packed my bag to go to Wichita. But instead of getting on that plane, I ended up here in the desert, searching for something that I know exists fifteen hundred miles away.
Why couldn't I get on that plane?
Why couldn't I go and be there for him?
The way he has been there for me.
As I drive out of the canyon,
The few times that I’ve been here in the height of winter, the mountaintops have been painted white, capped with snow all around giving it a particularly magnificent look against the ocean of palm trees.
I stop to eat at a restaurant on Indian Canyon Boulevard. It’s highly rated on Yelp and the food doesn't disappoint. I have some waffles with Nutella, a plate of blueberries and strawberries, the fluffiest pancakes, and the most delicious crepe I've ever had. It’s smothered in creme anglaise, which has somehow been made into vegan creme anglaise.
As I savor my food, I consider staying the night. I have my bag packed and nothing to get back to.
With a few days off work, why not?
Except that coming here, being on a trip at all, makes me feel incredibly guilty. It’s worse than I have ever felt before. I should be in Kansas with Luke. He did nothing wrong and was just kind and sweet, helping me through a difficult time.
I should get past all of my issues and actually commit.
But it's not like I'm out here looking for another date. Not at all.
It's just that it's hard to compare being with someone to being alone. I like this misery, this darkness that envelops me, brooding and being slightly dissatisfied all the time.
It started even before Violet disappeared.
I thought I was just being cool. I thought that was just what you did in LA. Stayed single.
Didn’t commit, not really think about the future.
There’re fifty year olds acting like they're twenty-five and sixty and seventy year olds acting like they're thirty.
A part of the problem is that I never imagined myself being a mother, a wife. I always imagined being a detective or heck, even a writer. I managed to finish the book that I was working on thanks largely to Luke and his constant support, telling me that I could do it and believing in me. No one else has done that for me before.
I shouldn’t compare but I can’t help myself. When my ex, Thomas, found out about me wanting to be a writer, he thought it was a joke.
Writers know things, and in his eyes I was an idiot. He didn’t care that I had scored higher on all of my exams than he did. He thought that the only reason I got promoted was because the department had a quota to fill.
The truth is that I worked harder than Thomas. I was smarter and more committed and he scored better. But he still had a job because the department is still a boys club. He was friends with the higher ups and they saw him as younger versions of themselves, so he got promoted.
People like Thomas got the cases the people like me didn’t.
Luke wasn't anything like that.
He wanted to spend the rest of his life with me; he wanted me to be his wife. He said that, in not so many words.
Okay. I should be happy.
I am not with some ass who hurts me. I am with a guy who loves me and supports me no matter what. He doesn’t call me names or make me feel bad. He has never even raised his voice at me.
I have to quit comparing Luke to the worst thing that ever happened to me. He deserves much better than that.
2
I take my time at the restaurant, hanging around longer than I probably should. I ask for a second helping of tea and then another, decaf this time because I don't want to stay up late.
When I finish the last of it, I pay the bill, give the waitress a very generous tip, and get in my car.
I consider spending the night.
My bag is packed in the trunk, and it would be nice not to drive all the way home, but old thoughts start to creep back, and I know that it would be better to go back home and get back to work rather than hang around here as an idling tourist waiting for something.
What exactly?
What is holding me back?
I wanted to go on a hike. I did. It was beautiful. Breathtaking views, different from back home. A little bit of city in sight, but not much else.
For a moment, I think about living here. There's a lot less traffic, and the whole Coachella valley can be crisscrossed in what is it, half an hour? That sounds pretty good to me right about now.
Luke calls and I ask about his mom and his trip, but there's a coldness that exists between us.
A lot of pauses.
He asks me what I'm doing and I'm tempted to lie, but I don't.
"You went all the way to Palm Springs?” he asks. "Why?"
"Just felt like it. Needed to clear my head."
"You could have come here."
This is a sly comment, revealing the truth of how he feels.
"I get it. I know. I'm sorry."
“You're not going to fly out?" he asks.
"I don't know," I mumble.
"Why not? I mean, you took the days off. Just come. I can get you a flight."
I hesitate, and before I can say no, he says, "Fine. I've got to go," and hangs up the phone.
Still hesitating, I pull out my laptop and check for flights out of the Palm Springs Airport.
There's one for later this afternoon. It stops in Dallas and costs about triple what my old flight did, but riding the high of excitement, I pull out my credit card. I have just enough time to get to the airport. I book the trip for five days, getting in late tonight and coming back on Thursday.
On the flight, my heart beats out of my chest until I turn up the music and put my thoughts elsewhere.
"Everything is going to be fine," I say over and over to myself. I don't bring anything for checked baggage, just a carry-on and my backpack with my laptop, iPad, and chargers.
When I walk out through the baggage claim toward the car rental, the humidity of the Midwest hits me like a ton of bricks. The air feels thick enough to swim through, and I struggle to breathe. No matter how hot the summers tend to get in Los Angeles, let alone in Palm Springs, the sheer thickness of the air here takes me by complete surprise.
I'm drenched in sweat as I head to the car rental building and then immediately freeze from the air conditioning inside. I get the cheapest car they have, a Kia Forte, but it handles well and zooms around quickly.
I keep debating whether or not I should call Luke before arriving, but the more time that passes, the more reluctant I am to call him, and so I don't. I have his address from an email that he sent me a while ago, so I head straight there.
Luke is staying at his mom's farmhouse. He grew up in the suburbs going to nice big, Blue Ribbon schools, but as soon as he graduated, his mom bought a white farmhouse with a wrap-around porch, and she and his dad remodeled it themselves.
“They had no experience in that sort of thing, and that was part of the fun,” Luke said and winked at me when he told me the story.
But he grew up in the blandness of the suburbs, one of those new construction, cookie-cutter homes that I've actually always wanted to live in.
I, on the other hand, grew up in what could be called a historic home in a small town with leaky pipes, poor insulation, wood paneling, and all of the other charms of vintage house living, and I have no interest in going through any of that again.
