LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter One

      Ashley edged farther under the desktop in the cubicle, her fingers clutching the phone to her ear, her knees scraping against the coarse commercial carpet. Breathe...in, out, in, out. Focus, listen. Where is he?

      Her breaths wheezed between her teeth, making a sharp whistling sound.

      Calm down. He’ll hear you if you don’t calm down.

      “Why don’t I hear any sirens yet?” she whispered to the nine-one-one operator.

      “They’re on the way, ma’am. Is the shooter still in the building?”

      “I’m not sure. I think so.”

      “Stay where you are. Stay on the line. The police will be there soon.”

      Her fingers tightened around the phone. That’s the same thing the operator had told her ten minutes ago—after the shooter killed Stanley Gibson.

      They’d both been standing by the copier, chatting about nothing in particular while the machine spit out reports for their next meeting. A soft pfft sound whooshed through the air. A bright red circle bloomed on Stanley’s forehead. His eyes rolled up and he crumpled to the floor.

      Ashley had stood frozen, too horrified to acknowledge what her subconscious already knew—someone had just shot one of her coworkers.

      That’s when the screams began.

      She’d whirled around. The shooter stood in the main aisle, his silver hair forming spikes across his head like porcupine quills. His dark gaze locked on her.

      And then he smiled.

      Ashley’s fight-or-flight instincts had kicked in. She ran. Around the corner, past the glass-enclosed offices the managers used. Empty. Thank God. At least half the company was out to lunch. But the rest were here, like her, trapped between the shooter and the only exit.

      She kept running, to the other side of the building, to another maze of cubicles. She dove into the nearest one and grabbed the phone from the top of the desk. That was when she’d called nine-one-one.

      A terrified scream echoed through the room.

      Ashley’s pulse sputtered. “He’s still here,” she whispered.

      “Help is on the way.”

      The operator’s calm, matter-of-fact tone had Ashley clenching her teeth so hard her jaw ached. Didn’t the operator realize people were dying? Had the woman even called the police?

      Leaning as far out of the cubicle as she dared, she risked a glance down the main aisle. The shooter’s progress through the offices of Gibson and Gibson Financial Services was marked by screams and shouts coming from the other side of the building.

      The mournful wail of police sirens erupted outside the windows.

      Thank you, thank you, thank you!

      “I hear sirens,” she whispered. “They’re close.”

      “Yes, ma’am. Are you still in the same location?”

      “I haven’t moved.”

      “I’ve notified the police where you are. They’ll be there soon.”

      Ashley was really starting to hate the word soon. And she also sorely regretted taking the auditing contract in Destiny, Tennessee. If she were in her home office in Nashville right now, she wouldn’t be cowering in a cubicle with a crazed shooter

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