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He looked down and her eyes met his.
“There’s no time to hesitate.”
She pulled her hand free.
“Who are you?”
“No time. I’m here to get you out.”
“How do I know that?”
“Look,” he gritted out. “There’s no time to offer proof. You have two choices. Trust me or…” He nodded his head backward, where it was obvious only death waited.
She stood there almost rocking on her heels. He could see the indecision, the unwillingness to trust any further, and he didn’t blame her.
“I’m saying this only once more before I throw you over my shoulder. We can do it your way or we can do it mine.”
Suspect Witness
Ryshia Kennie
RYSHIA KENNIE has received a writing award from the City of Regina, Saskatchewan, and also been a semifinalist in the Kindle Book Awards. She finds that there’s never a lack of places to set an edge-of-the-seat suspense, as prairie winters find her dreaming of warmer places for heart-stopping stories. They are places where deadly villains threaten intrepid heroes and heroines who battle for their right to live or even to love. For more, visit www.ryshiakennie.com.
For Ken—who led the journey through Malaysia’s Gunung Mulu caves with the feeble light of a travel flashlight.
Our hiking boots were ankle-deep in bat guano and each step was treacherous. I clutched the back of his shirt as I couldn’t always see in the fleeting light.
But the vast beauty of the cave was worth a ton of bat guano.
Contents
Singapore—Saturday, October 10
She had been pretty once.
Now her skin gleamed in the glow of the fluorescent lights. A strand of auburn hair fell across a well-shaped brow and her lips held a glimmering trace of sherbet lip gloss.
“It’s a shame, really,” the coroner said as his sun-bronzed hand held the edge of the stark white sheet. “Life was just getting started. Twenty-five or there about.” He shook his head. “I try to remember that every time I step out of the house. Enjoy the moment. You just never know. And in this job you’re reminded of mortality every day.” A strand of salt-and-pepper hair drifted across his forehead. “I try not to think about it or it would drive me crazy.”
“True,” Josh Sedovich said. “Any idea how she died?”
The coroner nodded. “She was hit by a blunt object to the back of the head. Surprising, I always thought Singapore so civilized until I moved here and took this job. Unfortunately, it’s turned out no better than anywhere else.”
“Why does it always end like this? On a temporary visa to see the world and, just like that, it’s over.” Josh ran his hand along the side of his neck. “It’s damn hot in here.”
“No air-conditioning,” the coroner said. “Is she who you’re looking for?”
“No. Fortunately not.” He fisted his right hand. Not so fortunately for the unknown young woman on the coroner’s slab.
Probable murder, potential arson and an unknown assassin. He’d been on the trail of this case for the past three weeks, and now one person was