No Way Out - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Dear Readers,

I've been a "cerebral" type all of my life. I have a non-stop, questioning, analytical mind. I love doing crossword puzzles. To this day, I snatch the Sunday New York Times magazine section every week before the rest of my family can get to it. I then labor over that puzzle until I've exhausted myself (or finished the whole thing). In school, I read Agatha Christie books one after the other, and tried feverishly to outsmart Hercule Poirot.

On the other hand, I'm a die-hard sentimentalist. I cry at old movies and believe in striving for happily-ever-after. Relationships and family mean the world to me, not only in films and novels, but in real life, as well. The bonds we form with each other are often what sustain us in our most difficult moments, and what enhance our most jubilant celebrations.

To sum it up, I'm an interesting combination of idealist and pragmatist. And that works perfectly with what I write. The idealist in me loves writing romance, and the pragmatist in me loves writing suspense. I feel very fortunate that I'm able to combine the two, and give you books that keep you at the edge of your seat, but at the same time, make you care.

To keep up with me and my novels (past, present and future), visit my website at: www.andreakane.com.

You can email me at WriteToMe@andreakane.com.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter One

April 14

Leaf Brook Mall

Westchester County, New York

Wrong place. Wrong time.

She had to get out of here.

Julia gritted her teeth as she fought the crowd surging back and forth through the mall. She shoved her way to the door leading to the twelve-story parking garage. Wall-to-wall people. Everything was called a grand opening. This felt more like Mardi Gras in New Orleans.

Coming here today had been stupid. The Stratfords were enveloped by spectators, surrounded by members of the press. And the mayor was flanked by his father and brother -- a clear message that the Stratfords represented a unified front. Even Julia's desperation hadn't been enough to get her through. She'd have to find another way.

Taking an elevator wasn't an option. There was already a huge line waiting, and as each car opened, Julia could see they were all filled to capacity. The stairwell wasn't much better, but it was her only choice. She scaled each level as quickly as she could, wincing as the deejay's music rocked the concrete walls and vibrated through her head.

Eventually, the throngs of people began to thin out and the music started to fade as she put more distance between herself and the celebration. She was worried sick and frustrated as hell. If what she suspected was true, then an hourglass was running out. It was up to her to stop the flow of the sand.

She exited the stairwell on the eleventh floor, where she'd wedged her car into the only available parking space -- a space that was far away from the opening-day pandemonium. Reflexively, she groped for her keys as she walked.

The screech of tires was what alerted her.

Her chin came up just as the silver Mercedes blasted around the corner, bearing down on her with lightning speed.

She knew she was its target. She also knew why.

Her hunch had been right. And she was about to be silenced.

A frozen moment of fear paralyzed her. Abruptly, it shattered. A surge of adrenaline jolted through her, and she tried to jump out of the way. She couldn't make it.

She felt the stunning impact and then a dazed awareness as she was hurled through the air. The concrete floor came rushing up to meet her.

Brian, she thought, shards of pain piercing her skull. Who's going to save Brian?

Copyright © 2001 by Andrea Kane