Last Seen Alive Read online

  Praise for

  CARLENE THOMPSON

  SHARE NO SECRETS

  “Intriguing … brims with madness and creepy thrills.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  “Turns and twists make you change your mind about who the killer is and the ending is a real shocker. Get this one quick.”

  —Rendezvous

  “Thompson knows how to write gripping suspense and keep readers enthralled throughout. A great mystery with thrilling intrigue.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “A chilling murder mystery with lots of twists, turns, and unexpected curves… one of the best romantic mysteries I have read … a great book that you don’t want to miss”

  —Romance Junkies

  “A page-turner that will leave you on the edge of your seat… another wonderful thriller from Carlene Thompson … a must-read.”

  —A Romance Review

  “An intriguing tale told in a wonderfully fresh voice. Thompson has a truly unique style that blends beautiful prose with compelling plots … this novel reads like lightning—and has the same effect on the reader … Thompson has created sharp, smart characters with motives that drive the story along. They are enough to keep the story moving at a quick pace. Her voice has a sense of rhythm and a rustic beauty that lingers in the reader’s memory.”

  —Romance Divas

  “An action-filled read with plenty of twists and turns that will keep you guessing until the very end! This story is highly detailed with an array of in-depth characters that are smart, funny, and engaging.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  IF SHE SHOULD DIE

  “A gripping suspense filled with romance. Ms. Thompson has the reader solving the mystery early in the novel, then changing that opinion every few chapters. [An] excellent novel.”

  —Rendezvous Reviews

  “With engaging characters and intriguing motives, Thompson has created a smart, gripping tale of revenge, anger, and obsession.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  “If She Should Die is a riveting whodunit!”

  —The Road to Romance

  “In the tradition of Tami Hoag or Mary Higgins Clark, Thompson has created a gripping page-turner. The storyline is engaging and the characters’ lives are multi-dimensional. This is literally a book the reader will be unable to put down.”

  —Old Book Barn Gazette

  BLACK FOR REMEMBRANCE

  “Loaded with mystery and suspense … Mary Higgins Clark fans, take note.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Gripped me from the first page and held on through its completely unexpected climax. Lock your doors, make sure there’s no one behind you, and pick up Black for Remembrancer

  —William Katz, author of Double Wedding

  “Bizarre, terrifying… an inventive and forceful psychological thriller.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Thompson’s style is richly bleak, her sense of morality complex… Thompson is a mistress of the thriller parvenu.”

  —Fear

  SINCE YOU’VE BEEN GONE

  “This story will keep readers up well into the night.”

  —Huntress Reviews

  DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES

  “Don’t Close Your Eyes has all the gothic sensibilities of a Victoria Holt novel, combined with the riveting modern suspense of Sharyn McCrumb’s The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter. Don’t close your eyes—and don’t miss this one.”

  —Meagan McKinney, author of In the Dark

  “An exciting romantic suspense novel that will thrill readers with the subplots of a who-done-it and a legendary resident ghost seen only by children. These themes cleverly tie back to the main story line centering on the relationships between Natalie and Nick, and Natalie and the killer. Carlene Thompson fools the audience into thinking they know the murderer early on in the book. The reviewer suggests finishing this terrific tale in one sitting to ascertain how accurate are the reader’s deductive skills in pinpointing the true villain.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  IN THE EVENT OF MY DEATH

  “[A] blood-chilling … tale of vengeance, madness, and murder.”

  —Romantic Times

  THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIGHT

  “Thompson … has crafted a lively, entertaining read… skillfully ratchet[ing] up the tension with each successive chapter.”

  —Charleston Daily Mail

  ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES BY

  Carlene Thompson

  LAST SEEN ALIVE

  LAST WHISPER

  SHARE NO SECRETS

  IF SHE SHOULD DIE

  BLACK FOR REMEMBRANCE

  SINCE YOU’VE BEEN GONE

  DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES

  IN THE EVENT OF MY DEATH

  TONIGHT YOU’RE MINE

  THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIGHT

  Last Seen

  Alive

  Carlene Thompson

  ST. MARTIN’S Paperbacks

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  LAST SEEN ALIVE

  Copyright © 2007 by Carlene Thompson.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  ISBN: 0-312-93731-8

  EAN: 978-0-312-93731-7

  Printed in the United States of America

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / June 2007

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  To my canine and feline family Who graciously appear in my books

  Thanks to Pamela Ahearn, Jennifer Weis, and The Mason County Emergency Services

  Special thanks to Beverly Watterson

  CONTENTS

  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

  Epilogue

  PROLOGUE

  Sixteen-year-old Chyna Greer eased up her bedroom window. Hot July air washed over her face. Behind her, Chyna’s best friend, Zoey Simms, squealed, “I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

  “I don’t think we should be doing this,” Chyna said. “If I get caught going to the lake at night—”

  Zoey grinned. “Absolutely nothing will happen to you”

  “Mom and Dad aren’t as laid-back as you think, Zoe.”

  “Compared to mine, they are. The two weeks I get to spend with you every summer are the only fun I ever have.”

  Chyna rolled her eyes. “You live in Washington, D.C., but your time in little old Black Willow, West Virginia, is the highlight of your year?”

  “Getting to come here is the most fun I have all year because I’m with you. I’m going home day after tomorrow, so don’t be a drag, Chyna.”

  Chyna looked into Zoey’s large velvety brown eyes and sighed. Although Chyna was only a few months older than Zoey, she often felt years older. Sometimes she regretted never having been the ebullient sprite that was Zoey and tried to be less “se
nsible” all the time, but wishing couldn’t change her personality.

  Chyna didn’t have a good feeling about this trip to Lake

  Manicora, but then, Chyna didn’t have a good feeling about a lot of things. Her older brother, Ned, always told her to “lighten up” and quit thinking so much. As dearly as she loved Ned, she had no idea how to stop thinking as he apparently did when he got that blank look on his face for days at a time.

  Chyna pushed her long dark brown hair behind her ears, stalling. “We’re upstairs, Zoe. One of us. might fall and break a leg. How will we explain that?”

  “Oh, will you chill out?” Zoey huffed. “Sometimes you sound really old, like thirty. Climbing down the rose trellis from the second floor isn’t exactly death defying. Geez!”

  Zoey was getting angry. She hardly ever got angry, but she’d fallen madly in love eight days ago and since then she’d turned into a mass of swirling emotions. Zoey wouldn’t tell Chyna her beloved’s name. Chyna thought this was either because Zoey knew Chyna wouldn’t approve of the guy or because Zoey thought that secrecy made the romance more exciting. Whatever the reason, Zoey remained adamant about meeting her anonymous Romeo at the lake. “This is a romantic tryst, Chyna,” she explained hotly, “and if you won’t go with me, I’ll go alone!”

  Chyna noticed Zoey’s false bravado. She was certain Zoey feared going down to the lake alone at night, but Zoey had made a promise to her mystery man and she intended to keep it.

  Chyna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn’t turn her back on Zoey. After all, Zoey had been Chyna’s closest friend since forever. Their moms were best friends in college, and Zoey was even Chyna’s godsister, if there was such a thing. Chyna felt it was her duty to look after Zoey.

  “We’re only going down the hill, and across the highway,” Zoey persisted, her voice taking on that sweet wooing tone most people found hard to resist coming from such a pretty girl.

  “But it’s late at night and across the highway is Lake Manicora. It’s a big place, Zoey.”

  “You make it sound like one of the Great Lakes.”

  “It’s thirty-two acres.”

  “Leave it to you to know the exact size,” Zoey snapped. “Let’s see … that would be thirty-two acres of sharks, electric eels, octopuses—”

  “Octopi.”

  “Excuse me. I forgot you are a genius.”

  “I’m not a genius.”

  “You just have an IQ that’s in the stratosphere. There, did I say that right?”

  “You’re trying to charm me with compliments.”

  “They don’t seem to be working,” Zoey said glumly as she twisted a lock of her short sandy blond hair the way she did when she was nervous. She looked frustrated enough to cry. “Look, you’re not gonna get caught. Your mom’s in bed with a headache, your dad’s working late in his study and he never checks on you anyhow, and Ned’s in his room listening to music through his headphones. No one will notice we’re gone, so are you going with me or do I go alone?” Chyna hesitated. “Okay, I’ll go by myself,” Zoey announced. “He said to, anyway.”

  “Who is he?’

  “I’m not telling, but he’s not a pervert or weird. He’s romantic and wonderful. He also doesn’t have anything in mind like getting in my pants. We’ll just talk and maybe kiss, that’s all, and I’m going!”

  “Okay, I’ll go,” Chyna said reluctantly, realizing Zoey was intractable on this matter. “You knew I would.”

  “No, I didn’t. Honest.”

  That was one of the many things Chyna had always loved about Zoey—her honesty. She might occasionally sneak around her overprotective parents, for which Chyna couldn’t condemn her without condemning herself, too. But Zoey never lied to Chyna. They’d made a blood oath when they were five. They’d pricked their fingers with a needle and been horrified when tiny drops of blood popped out, but they’d endured the agony and rubbed their fingers together. They had never broken the oath.

  “Well, off we go,” Chyna sighed. ’Together as always.”

  “Great!” Zoey almost shouted, then lowered her voice and hugged Chyna. “You’re the best friend in the world, Chyna.” Zoey drew away, her brown eyes beaming. “Now, you go first.”

  “Why do / have to go first?”

  “You’re more familiar with the rose trellis than I am.”

  “Yes, I always use the trellis when I come and go,” Chyna replied sarcastically. “It’s so much more convenient.”

  “Just go,” Zoey said impatiently. “I’m gonna be late.”

  Chyna gave Zoey a hard look. “When we’re old and gray, I want you to remember this, Zoe. I expect a really big favor in return.”

  “Okay,” Zoey replied solemnly. “When we’re in the nursing home together, I’ll let you sit next to the cutest guy at the dinner table, the one who still has all his teeth.”

  “After tonight, we probably won’t make it to the nursing home together.” Later Chyna would remember that prediction with a chill.

  Chyna swung her jean-covered leg over the window frame and hung on until she got one running shoe-clad foot placed firmly on a rung of the trellis. If her mother’s rambler roses hadn’t been decimated by the new gardener, this trip down the trellis would have been impossible.

  Still clutching the window frame, Chyna stuck her left foot into a lower triangle of the trellis. Finally, she completely let go of the window frame and grabbed the trellis, which felt surprisingly solid.

  “Hurry up!” Zoey hissed.

  “Will you give me a chance to make sure I don’t fall?”

  Zoey subsided as Chyna began her descent, knowing she was driving Zoey crazy with her measured steps. At last, Chyna let go of the trellis and dropped about a foot onto the loamy dirt of the empty flower bed. Zoey looked down at her anxiously. “My turn?”

  “Yes, but go slowly and be careful.”

  Zoey neither went slowly nor was the least bit careful and fell off the trellis, sailing the last seven feet of the trip through the air, arms flailing, before she hit the flower bed.

  Chyna rushed to her. “Are you hurt?”

  Zoey clambered up and shook off the dirt. “I’m fine.” She adjusted her jeans and pale blue top. “Let’s get going.”

  They crossed the front of the house, nearly tiptoeing past the living room and Chyna’s father’s office, where lights still burned, ran down the driveway and out to the asphalt road leading down the hill to the main highway.

  When they’d traveled three minutes in silence, Chyna said, “I don’t like this. It isn’t a good idea—”

  Zoey whirled on her. “Then go back to the house. I can take care of myself!”

  “I’ve already climbed down that darned trellis, and besides, I am not leaving you out here alone in the dark meeting some guy you barely know—”

  “This guy is not someone I barely know.”

  “You’ve met him in Black Willow before this trip?”

  “Yes, but this time is different. Sometimes you just click with people, you know?”

  “No,” Chyna said. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s because all you think about is that jet pilot. Scott Kendrick. You talk about him constantly. You are madly in love with Scott Kendrick.”

  “I am not!” Chyna flared. “That’s the silliest thing I ever heard. His mother and Mom are good friends. That’s how I know so much about him.”

  “When he showed up at the Fourth of July barbecue today and said, ’Hi, Chyna,’ you turned about five different colors and got choked on your lemonade.”

  “Zoey, you are so full of it! I’ve never thought twice about Scott and it wouldn’t do me any good if I did, because I’m just a little hick-town teenager and he has about a dozen glamorous girlfriends all over the world and—”

  “And you’re getting so loud they can probably hear you back at the house,” Zoey grumbled. “If you quit harping on me about what a bad idea this is, I’ll stop teasing you about Scott.”

&n
bsp; They stamped on down the road, one in anticipation, one in anger. But anger isn’t going to do me any good, Chyna

  thought. Nothing is going to stop Zoey and I don’t want her leaving day after tomorrow mad at me.

  The night was hot and languid. Chyna hadn’t even noticed the weather last night when they were enjoying the annual Greer Fourth of July barbecue. She’d been having too much fun. Now, trying to calm down, she drew deep breaths of the sweet evening primrose growing amid the locust trees and sassafras on either side of the asphalt road. A few birds chirped in the darkness, but not many. By dawn they’d be going full tilt. The foliage beside Chyna rustled. Zoey jumped and clutched Chyna’s arm before a rabbit skittered into the road, then vanished with lightning speed.

  Zoey finally broke their silence by asking, “Who do you think will get married first? Me or you?”

  The question was so nonchalant after their earlier quarreling, she took Chyna by surprise. Chyna tried to answer with the same offhand tone. “You. Guys don’t seem to like me.”

  “Sure they do!” Zoey said enthusiastically. “It’s your looks and your huge brain that scare guys off.” Chyna gave her a sideways glance. “You’re tall and slender and you’re named after an exotic country, which is so cool, and you have that long, thick brown hair and those haunting gray-blue eyes—”

  “Haunting?”

  “Yeah. They’re beautiful but mysterious, like you’ve got all kinds of secrets behind them. And I guess you do.” Chyna looked at her sharply. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” Zoey said quickly. “It’s just that ever since you were little, you started getting all those sixth-sense things going on, and they’re kind of scary, especially because you’re usually right.”