A Secret to Die For: Trailer and Lost Prologue

A Secret to Die For from S & L Harris on Vimeo.

If you love romantic suspense, don't miss this suspense novel from best-selling author Lisa Harris. 

Psychologist Grace Callahan has no idea that she has a secret--one worth killing for. But when she finds out one of her clients has been murdered, she quickly realizes that the computer security specialist wasn't simply suffering from paranoia.

Detective Nate Quinn has just been cleared for active duty after a bombing killed eighteen people, including his partner, and left him dealing with PTSD. His first case back on the job involves the murder of Stephen Shaw, and his only lead turns out to be an old friend, Grace Callahan--and her life is in grave danger. Someone believes Shaw gave his psychologist information before he died. Information they are willing to kill for.

With her signature pulse-pounding suspense, Lisa Harris takes readers deep into the heart of fear in this race against the clock.

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READ NOW: The lost prologue that didn't make it into the novel.

Prologue

         Stephen Shaw knew he was going to die. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but they would figure out what he’d done. And when they did, they would kill him. His psychologist had told him he was crazy—maybe not in those exact words—but he knew that was what she was thinking. That he was simply paranoid. That his feelings of being stalked were really nothing more than the result of an overactive imagination. 

         And yet he knew that wasn’t true.

         He walked through the deserted amusement park filled with trailers and kiddie rides and wondered why his handler had asked to meet him here. Jenkins had told him they needed to be careful, but the empty carnival in the middle of the night left him feeling uneasy. 

         The full moon hung above him, giving enough light to see where he was going, but he still kept to the shadows. A memory of his father bringing him to the carnival surfaced. He’d filled his stomach with popcorn and corndogs then gave him tickets for the Tilt-a-Whirl, which had ended up being a volatile combination.

         His father had never taken him again.

         A piece of trash swirled past him, whipped around by a breeze that did nothing to alleviate the unseasonably warm fall weather. A drop of sweat dripped off his face. He glanced behind him, aware of every moving shadow around him.

         Get a grip, Stephen. You’re only paranoid. 

         He tried to shake the lingering fear. Other than Jenkins, no one knew where he was. How could they? He hadn’t told anyone about his growing suspicions except for his physiologist, and she couldn’t tell anyone. Doctor patient privilege. Not that she had any reason to tell anyone. She didn’t even believe him.

         She had, though, told him he could call her if he found himself in the middle of another panic attack. She’d even written her private number on the back of her business card, something she said she didn’t normally do, but she was worried about him. Worried he’d do something rash like kill himself. Except he’d never kill himself. Or at least the thought had never entered his mind until recently.  

         He paused in front a mirror and stared at the shape of his distorted body outside the funhouse. So many things seemed off. Which was the reason he was walking through a deserted park at almost midnight in the first place.

         A minute later, he stopped in front of the carousel where Jenkins had said he would meet him. Stephen struggled to breath in the heavy, humid air as he tried to ignore the eerie silence. 

         “Jenkins? Jenkins are you here?”

         Strange. The lights were on, but the carousel wasn’t moving. He started walking around the edges of the carousel, counting pairs of horses as he went. One. . .two . .three. . .A total of twelve pairs of horses. Twenty-four motionless beasts, each one seeming to stare at him. 

         “Jenkins?”

         Something was off. Jenkins was never late.

         Maybe he should call Dr. Callahan again. He’d called her a few minutes ago and left her a long message, but she hadn’t answered. He pulled his phone out of his pant pocket, started to punch in the number for her he’d put on speed dial then stopped. She wasn’t going to answer this late. It was already passed eleven. She was probably fast asleep. He shouldn’t have tried to call her in the first place. Now the next time he saw her he’d have to explain why he’d panicked and called her so late. 

         He went back to his list of contacts, hesitated again, then made the call. There was one person who could help him, but as expected, the call switched automatically to voice mail.

         “You’re not returning my calls.” Stephen started walking back around the carousel. “Listen. . .I’m in trouble and don’t know who else to turn to. I’ve gotten involved in something, and this time I’m way over my head. I’ve got a fix ready to implement, but if they find out. . .Just call me back. Please.”

         He hung up, then stared out into the darkness. Maybe bringing in outside help was foolish, but what else was he supposed to do? He’d found a way to patch the targeted vulnerability in the system, but without input, implementing it would take time he didn’t have.

         Something rustled behind him. He swung around as a rat vanished into the darkness. He swallowed hard, trying to bury his mushrooming panic. How had he gotten to this point?

         The first time they’d approached him with an offer, he’d hesitated. His mother had always told him if it was too good to be true, it probably was. But they’d proceeded to prove to him who they were, flattering him with empty complements, and somehow convincing him that his country needed him. 

         Now he knew it had been nothing but lies.

         He started counting the yellow lights at the top of the carousel. Six. . .eight. . .ten. . .Where was Jenkins?

         So far everything he’d been told about their meeting was true. The padlock on the east gate had been open and there was no sign of a guard. But if he was going to clear his name—and stop what was happening along with the nightmares—he needed proof.  

         But he wasn’t so sure it was going to be possible. The latest security test had taken him five hours, forty-two minutes and seven seconds to infiltrate the substation. It was what was coming next that had him terrified.

         He’d always known that the grid would fail one day. It seemed. . .inevitable. If it wasn’t the Russians or China it would be at the hands of a homegrown hacker who’d sold his soul to the highest bidder. He’d just never expected that hacker to be him. Jenkins had told him to stop worrying. That the only thing after him was his imagination. But that wasn’t true. He knew that now.

         A shadow shifted to his left. He moved to the other side of the carousel platform in order to see who was there. His handler stood about twenty feet from him wearing an expensive suit, next to a second man who looked like a nightclub bouncer.

         “Jenkins. . .” Stephen swallowed hard. “I didn’t think you were going to show up.”

         “We have a problem.”

         “I don’t understand.”

         “I think you do understand. Actually, that’s part of the problem. Instead of simply doing your work, you keep looking into things that aren’t your business.”

         Stephen felt the fingers of fear work their way up his spine. “I just. . .worry. You told me that the information I’ve gathered is being used for security purposes.”

         “It is.”

         He’s been ready for the admission. “I don’t think that’s entirely true, and I need to know what’s going on. Four weeks ago, one of the banks I hacked into reported that login information and password credentials had been stolen. Two weeks ago, the Pentagon had to shut down their network when hackers gained access to classified information.” 

         “What are you saying, Stephan?”

         He forced himself to hold Jenkin’s gaze. “I’m afraid that the information I’m giving you isn’t being used to test security systems.” He swallowed hard. “But to breach security systems.” 

         “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” Jenkins nodded at the other man. “Search him.” 

         “Stop.” Stephen took a step backward as the burly man came toward him, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. “What do you want?”

         He patted him down then pulled out his phone, wallet, and his phycologist’s business card.

         Jenkins held out his hand. “Unlock your phone and give it to me.”

         “Why?”

         “Because you’re not the only one regretting you took this job. I’m not sure I trust you anymore, Stephen. And that’s not a good thing.”

         Stephen fought for a breath. The lights from the carousel shimmered above him. What if he was wrong? Maybe he was simply paranoid like his shrink believed. “I’ve done everything you told me to do.” 

         “Have you? Because I believe your hiding things from me. I believe you’ve found a way to assess the network and got into the grid. And now you think you can betray me and try to sell that information to the highest bidder—”

         “No.” Stephen unlocked his phone, then handed it to Jenkins. “I told you I hadn’t found a way to access the power grid.”

         He slowed his breathing, keeping his expression neutral. If they found out the truth, they’d kill him.

         “Are you sure about that?” Jenkins clicked through the call log. “Who did you tell, Stephen?”

         “No one.”

         “You made several calls over the past hour.”

         “Just a couple personal calls.”

         Jenkins was still staring at the call log. “An unknown number and a. . .Dr. Grace Callahan. Who are they?”

“No one important. I left a message with a co-worker about an unrelated 

issue. And Dr. Callahan. . .she’s a phycologist I go to sometimes. It’s has nothing to do with my work.”

“Really? You didn’t tell her anything about what you’re doing, Stephen?”

         “Nothing, I swear. I haven’t told anyone anything.”

         Jenkins dropped the phone onto the ornate bench. “I think you told her something. Told her you were afraid. Maybe told her that you had doubts about the people you were working with.”

         “No. . .I only told her I thought someone was following me. She thought I was just being paranoid.”

         Stephen looked into Jenkins’s eyes. The man knew he was lying. Knew he’d involved Dr. Callahan. He never should have told her anything.

         “I don’t believe you,” Jenkins said, “and even worse, the people I work for don’t believe you. We should have what we need by now and yet you keep stalling.”

         “There’s a reason the system hasn’t been compromised.” Stephen said. “It isn’t easy to get in.” 

         “Unfortunately, I promised my boss that you could deliver. Keeping the power grid in tact is a high priority of this country, you know. And they believe in the process, you found a way in. And if you were to then turn around and sell that information to the highest bidder—”

         “No. I swear I would never do that.”

         Jenkins glanced at the business card. “This Dr. Callahan. . .Is she pretty? Because it would be a shame if anything happened to her.”

         The humid air pressed in around him. All he’d meant to do was protect his country, and now. . . “I told you she has nothing to do with this.”

         “And I told you I don’t believe you. She’s a shrink, which means she more than likely knows all your darkest secrets.” Jenkins nodded at his hired muscle who grabbed Stephen’s arm and twisted it behind his back.

         “No. . .please—”

         “He has a way of making people. . .talk.” Jenkins crossed his arms in front of him as if he were board. “What do you know, Stephen?”

         “I told you the truth. I haven’t been able to get in to the system. Not yet.”

         The man twisted another half an inch. Stephen’s body began to shake from the pain. Everything he’d feared was true. He’s trusted the wrong people.

         Jenkins’s eyes darkened. “He specializes in—well there really isn’t a pleasant way to say this—in torture.”

         He twisted yet another half an inch until something popped. 

         Stephen was crying now. “There’s a key to a safe deposit box. Everything you want is inside it.”

         “You have been holding out on us. Where’s the key?”

         Waves of pain coursed through him, but he couldn’t betray her. “I hid it somewhere safe, but if you let me go, and I will get it for you.”

         Jenkins laughed. “Don’t try to play games with me Stephen. You will tell us what we need. Because you’re a smart man.”          

The pain intensified. His mind searched for a way out of the dark tunnel he’d just been thrust into. “If you kill me, they’ll start investigating and find out what you’re doing.”

         And if they found out and killed Grace as well? He couldn’t think about that.

         “I don’t think I have to worry about that. If something were to happen to you, do you know what they’ll find? The recent deposits into your bank account where someone was paying you off for the login credentials and classified government information. You’re the one who’s been hacking into government site, and now. . .unfortunately the guilt has taken a toll on your mental state.” 

         “No. I didn’t do any of that.”

         “Just tell me where the key is, Stephen. Does your shrink have it?”

         “No—”

         “You always were a bad liar.” Jenkins folded his arms across his chest. “Now that I have what I need, this is what’s going to happen, Stephen. You’re going to take this gun and put an end to all of this.”

         Pain seared through his shoulder as he fought to focus. “Why would I do that?”

         “Maybe because people already think you’re crazy. Your boss, his secretary, the other IT guys you work with. You’ve been acting strange for the past few weeks. Paranoid I would expect your shrink called it.”

         “I didn’t imagine those things.”

         “Really? Than how do you explain them?” Jenkins nodded at Bren to let Stephen go.

         He took a step back, his right arm now hanging limp at his side. He couldn’t breathe. Could barely move. How had he been so foolish?

         “If anything was to happen to you,” Jenkins continued, “people will simply think that you really were crazy. And when they find out what you were involved in hacking government sites, you knew you’d end up in prison. It would make sense that you wanted a way out.”

         A way out?

         “We’re going to give you a loaded gun, and he’s going to set it on the bench behind you. All you have to do is pick it up and all this will be over.  Because you know—and I know—that it’s the only way out. No one will believe you.”

         “No.” He couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

         “Pick it up,” Jenkins said.      

         Stephen hesitated. He was right about one thing. No one would believe him. In trying to help, he’d become a traitor. And prison. . .he’d never survive prison. He walked toward the weapon. He’d never liked guns. He’d only held one once, when he was in college, and even that had left him feeling uneasy. 

         No one will believe you.

         Jenkins’s words continued to echo in his head. The lights of the carousel flashed above him. He knew how to ensure the safety was on. How to pull the trigger. Was Jenkins right? Was he down to only two choices? Prison or death? 

         Slowly he picked up the weapon. The safety was already off. He rested his finger rested on the trigger. He’d thought of ending it. Especially on the mornings he woke up and the nightmares had seemed too real. And on the days he’d woke up and realized the nightmare was real.

         He pressed it to his temple, wondering what it would be like to pull the trigger. If he did, they would win. They wanted him silenced. If he didn’t pull the trigger it wouldn’t really matter. Because he had a feeling they’d do it for him. He never should have believed them. If he had just walked away from the very beginning, none of this would have happened.   

         But it was too late to turn back the clock.