Her Deadly Secrets

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KIRA VANCE gripped the steering wheel and navigated the slick streets. The summer downpour had come out of nowhere, catching her off guard. She’d wanted to make a good impression, and now she was going to arrive not just late but soaking wet in a white T-shirt that was nearly transparent.

Water dripped onto her shoulder as she reached a stoplight, and she glared up at her leaky sunroof. There was no denying it—she needed a new car. Her little Celica had six-digit mileage and a bad transmission, but she refused to trade it in. She couldn’t afford an upgrade, and the car had been with her through so many ups and downs she was sentimental about it.

The phone chimed on the seat beside her, but she ignored it because it was Ollie, her shrewd, rude, and sometimes infuriating boss. She didn’t want to talk to him on the phone. She needed a face-to-face.

As Kira skidded away from the intersection, her car’s engine warning light flashed on.

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