Headline: Murder
WITNESS TO MURDERA gang of masked gunmen murder a man right in front of reporter Olivia Brant. Now they're after her—the newswoman witness who won't rest until she gets her story. She's rescued in the nick of time by a six-foot-four former bodyguard, but Olivia hardly feels safe. She's certain Daniel Ash is connected to her investigation into the dead man's business dealings, but how? With no one left to trust, Olivia accepts Daniel's offer of shelter at his abandoned country house in rural Ontario. But the killers are not far behind, and determined that Olivia takes the evidence she's uncovered to her grave.
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WITNESS TO MURDER
A gang of masked gunmen murder a man right in front of reporter Olivia Brant. Now theyâre after herâthe newswoman witness who wonât rest until she gets her story. Sheâs rescued in the nick of time by a six-foot-four former bodyguard, but Olivia hardly feels safe. Sheâs certain Daniel Ash is connected to her investigation into the dead manâs business dealings, but how? With no one left to trust, Olivia accepts Danielâs offer of shelter at his abandoned country house in rural Ontario. But the killers are not far behind, and determined that Olivia takes the evidence sheâs uncovered to her grave.
Sheâd been kidnapped.
A figure in fatigues leaped out of the car and ran after her. A mask covered his face. There was a gun in his hand.
She ran. Rain fell fast and wild, obscuring her view. The wind tossed her soaked hair. Bonds dug into her wrists and sent pain shooting up her arms.
Her body smacked hard against the hood of a truck.
She gasped. The vehicle was nothing more than a gray shape in the darkness and had seemed to come out of nowhere. The driverâs face was hidden in the darkness and distorted by water pounding off the windshield. She spun on her heels.
âOlivia!â a deep voice yelled. âThis way.â
She stumbled. A strong arm grabbed her around the waist and nearly hoisted her feet off the ground. She opened her mouth to scream. A hand clasped over her mouth. âItâs me, Daniel. Itâs okay. Just get in the truck.â He half steered and half pulled her toward the passenger door.
Daniel? The complicated and moody man whoâd told her never to contact him again?
âUntie me. Now. And take me back to the diner.â
âI canât. Sorry. Just get in. Iâll explain when weâre out of here.â
MAGGIE K. BLACKis an award-winning journalist and romantic suspense author with an insatiable love of traveling the world. She has lived in the American South, Europe and the Middle East. She now makes her home in Canada with her history teacher husband, their two beautiful girls and a small but mighty dog. Maggie enjoys connecting with her readers at maggiekblack.com.
God will rescue me from these liars
who are so intent upon destroying me.
âPsalms 57:3
With thanks to all the amazing writers, editors and others Iâve had the joy of sharing a newsroom with. You all stretched and inspired me so much.
Most especially Doug, one of the best newshounds Iâve ever had the privilege of working with. Peace to you and Margie on your journey.
Contents
Shock rippled like a wave through the crowded Toronto courtroom, leaving a rumble of anger seething in its wake. The crown attorney had just announced that Brian Leslie, sleazy owner of Leslie Construction, was going to walk out the door a free man, despite stealing hundreds of thousands from both the government and his own employees. Which meant the construction crew heâd left both unemployed and broke had just seen their best hope for justice go up in flames.
Reporter Olivia Brant tightened the grip on her notepad. Her green eyes grew wide. That manâs sloppy, reckless attempts at tax evasion had made headlines across Canada. How could the authorities possibly think it was âin the public interestâ to let a thieving creep like him go free? Growing up, always shuffling from one lousy rented apartment to the next, sheâd seen all too well how working for really bad bosses could tear someoneâs family apart.
Well, even if I donât succeed in saving my own position at Torchlight News, at least the last story I write will be about something I care about. Although hopefully, if she acted fast enough, this would turn out to be the one big news story that actually kept her from losing her job.
Olivia tightened the clasp holding back her fiery red mane and leaped to her feet. The camera that sheâd nabbed off a coworkerâs desk clattered to the floor. She scooped it back up and pushed through the rows. The courtroom was packed to the seams with former Leslie employees eager to see Brian pay. Now that justice wasnât coming, the room felt like a mob waiting to surge. A large bald man with a hawk tattoo on his neck cursed and gripped the seat in front of him until his knuckles cracked. Beside him, a woman with spiky hair cried loudly.
Brian sat alone and was grinning so widely he might as well be gloating. The only other living member of the wealthy Leslie family was Brianâs teenage niece, Sarah. Much to the mediaâs dismay, the seventeen-year-old heiress hadnât agreed to any interviews about her uncleâs arrest and hadnât attended his trial. Didnât look as though any friends had shown up to offer Brian support, either. Olivia wondered if the rumors of his gambling addiction and drug use were true.
