Midnight Fear

“A smooth prose style and an authentic Big Easy vibe distinguish Tentler’s debut…the shivers are worthy of a Lisa Jackson.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Tentler’s novel is filled with suspense and mystery and centered around a compelling plot with a terrifying villain, and two main characters readers will come to care deeply about. This is one riveting read.”

—RT Book Reviews

“A romantic thriller that continually keeps you on the edge of your seat.”

—Fresh Fiction

“With twists and turns around every corner, Tentler has crafted a dark, contemporary romantic thriller that will enthrall readers. The Vampire-like killings will strike a resonating chord with thriller fans, and her sensual romance between Trevor and Rain will thrill romance fans.”

—Night Owl Romance

“Leslie Tentler shows what she is capable of…producing a first-class suspense/mystery novel.”

—Manic Readers

“Readers will relish this well-written, tense thriller…the taut tale means leaving the lights on after midnight.”

—Genre Go Round Reviews

In memory of my father, who told me to “go for it.”

I did, Dad.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

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

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Southwest Washington, D.C.

T he muffled cry meant the woman was still alive. Reid Novak tightened his grip on the Glock braced in front of him and moved cautiously forward, his eyes searching the shadows of the abandoned factory. Above him, anemic moonlight filtered through grime-streaked windows set in crumbling brick.

Another distorted sob. They were close. His adrenaline soared and he felt his heart pound.

He sensed more than heard his partner’s presence behind him. Although FBI agent Mitch Tierney looked like defensive line material for the Washington Redskins, he possessed a surprising stealthy grace. He moved into Reid’s line of vision, the barrel of his powerful firearm leading his stride.

“Blood splatter,” Mitch noted in a rough whisper. He jerked his jaw downward to point out the trail of drops. “Party’s already started.”

Together they inched to the blackened doorway, acutely aware of the rotted wood floor beneath them. Reid looked at Mitch in the tide of darkness, a voiceless communication occurring between them. Then he removed his left hand from the Glock and raised three fingers, giving the count.

One. Two. Three.

He turned the corner, Mitch covering him as he burst into the room.

“FBI!” Reid made a sweeping arc with the gun, his eyes straining to find human form. His breath clouded in the biting cold. The cavernous industrial space held the rusty odor of mildew.

“Jesus. There,” Mitch growled.

Faint light from a far window barely illuminated the victim. Her mouth had been covered with duct tape and her hands were bound together as if in prayer. The large knife being pressed against her throat glinted silver. Already, the woman’s white blouse was torn and streaked with blood. Joshua Edward Cahill stood behind her, the planes of his face submerged in shadow. He clutched her against his chest.

“Drop the knife, Joshua.” Reid kept his voice calm, moving closer.

“I’ll cut her throat!”

The woman made a mewling sound as he pressed the knife harder. Her eyes grew large and rolled back in fear. A thin line of crimson appeared on her pale throat. Despite the frigid air, Reid felt a drop of perspiration roll down his back.

“Damn it,” Mitch snapped, lurching forward. Reid halted him.

“Look at me, Joshua.”

“Go away!”

“You know I can’t do that. Step back and let her go.”

“So you can send me to prison? Someone told you wrong, Agent Novak. I’m a paranoid schizophrenic with poor control of impulsive behavior.” His derisive tone sounded as if he were quoting from a psychiatrist’s notepad. “I’m not a moron.”

“No one has to die.”

“Right.” Joshua’s voice cracked as he took a step toward the floor-to-ceiling window, dragging his captive with him. She struggled until another nick with the knife made her freeze. Reid knew that three stories below lay the icy Potomac, snaking along the ground like a black ribbon edged in snowdrifts. He stood about ten yards away now, his gun still trained on the shadow that was a U.S. senator’s son.

“We can take you to Dr. Lauderbach,” he bartered. “You trust him, right?”

“Lauderbach’s an asshole.”

As he dipped his head into the wash of moonlight, Joshua’s dark eyes appeared beneath a shock of ebony hair. He glared at Reid and tightened his hold on his hostage. The woman was in her early thirties, blonde, with legs clad in dark tights beneath a plaid skirt. She’d lost one shoe somewhere in her nightmare. Panting, her cheeks puffed in and out behind the gunmetal-gray tape concealing the lower part of her face. Reid looked into her tear-filled eyes and tried not to look there again. To do so would be to lose his objectivity, something he couldn’t afford.