Going Once

From New York Times bestselling author Sharon Sala comes a story of reignited passion set amidst a town reeling from disaster and the long shadow of a killer…

As raging floodwaters engulf her Louisiana hometown Nola Landry is stranded on high ground, the unwitting witness to the brutal murder of three fellow survivors. Finally rescued in the aftermath of the storm, no one is willing to believe a story as horrific as hers—until three FBI agents arrive on the scene…one of whom Nola knows very well.

Tate Benton has been tracking the so-called Stormchaser serial killer for months, never expecting the trail might lead him home, or to the woman he cannot forget. Home is now a ravaged town full of memories—of love, of disappointment, of past mistakes. The investigation brings Nola back into his life. Long-buried feelings resurface, and the former lovers try to pick up the pieces in the wake of the disaster.

Amid the relief effort the killer lingers, determined to silence Nola forever. In the Stormchaser’s twisted mind the pain is far from over…and hers is just beginning.

Praise for the novels of

“Vivid, gripping…this thriller keeps the pages turning.”

—Library Journal on Torn Apart

“Sala’s characters are vivid and engaging.”

—Publishers Weekly on Cut Throat

“Sharon Sala is not only a top romance novelist,

she is an inspiration for people everywhere who wish to live their dreams.” —John St. Augustine, host, Power!Talk Radio WDBC-AM, Michigan

“Veteran romance writer Sala lives up to her reputation

with this well-crafted thriller.” —Publishers Weekly on Remember Me

“[A] well-written, fast-paced ride.”

—Publishers Weekly on Nine Lives

“Perfect entertainment for those looking for

a suspense novel with emotional intensity.” —Publishers Weekly on Out of the Dark

Going Once

Sharon Sala

Grief is as much a part of life as breathing and comes to all of us, no matter our station in life. It must be felt to pass from us. We have to weep for what was lost before we are able to laugh again.

And laugh we must, for there is nothing worse than quitting on life when there is still breath in our bodies.

I dedicate this book to those who have learned the hardest lesson of all—how to go on alone.

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

Epilogue

One

Queens Crossing, Louisiana

Nola Landry was out-of-her-head sick with a three-day fever and had lost all track of time.

It had begun raining the day before she got sick, and it was still raining the next morning when the aches and fever began. She’d gone to sleep with the sound of rain on the roof and dreamed crazy, fever-ridden dreams about alligators in the front yard and her daddy shooting at them from the porch. Then she woke up remembering Daddy had died when she was twelve.

She fell back asleep to the sound of rain blowing against the windows and dreamed Mama was calling her to breakfast and she was going to be late for school, and when she woke up, it was dark and she remembered Mama had died just before Christmas last year.

She crawled out of bed long enough to go to the bathroom and get a drink, then fell back into bed. Her long dark hair had lost the band keeping it in a ponytail, and was damp and in tangles from the fever that came and went. After soaking her last clean nightgown from a fever-drenched sweat, she’d crawled back into bed nude.

The last thing she remembered as she was falling asleep was wondering how long it would take someone to find her body if she died.

Sometime later, another dream began, and in it Mama was running through the house, going from window to window and wringing her hands when all of a sudden, she began calling Nola’s name.

Nola! Nola! Wake up this instant! Put on your clothes! Get some food and water and get out! Hurry, hurry! You have to run!

Nola woke with a gasp, looking around her darkened bedroom in feverish confusion. She knew her mother was dead, but the urge to obey was so strong that she threw back the covers, turned on the lamp beside her bed and began to dress. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then pulled a hooded sweatshirt on over that. Her hands were trembling, her legs shaking as she sat down to tie her tennis shoes. The urgency to obey was increasing as she dropped her cell phone in a pocket.

She went through her house, stumbling on shaky legs, then into the kitchen, muttering to herself.

“Get food and water...food and water.”

She grabbed a bottle of water, a few sticks of string cheese and a package of peanut butter crackers, and put them in the front pouch of the sweatshirt and started toward the door.

“Car keys...gotta get my car keys.”

She found the keys on the coffee table and was still moving on instinct when she opened the front door. Even though it was dark, she sensed something was wrong. She was all the way out onto the porch before she realized she was walking in water. Her heart skipped a beat as she backtracked to the kitchen for a flashlight.