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For an instant, Lisa froze, bile rising in her throat.

Then, she raced down the stairs and straight to Julie’s lifeless body.

She squatted down. No pulse. No sign of life. Julie was gone.

Had those bullets been meant for her? Had they found her after all these years?

Lisa’s head flew up, and she looked all around. The block was deserted. The killer had used a silencer, and no one had heard the shots but her.

It was just her.

What the hell should she do? If the drug ring was after her, they’d come for her again as soon as they realized they’d killed the wrong girl.

Unless they never found out.

Self-preservation took over. Lisa reached over and grabbed Julie’s wallet, cell phone, checkbook, keys—anything that could identify her as Julie Forman.

Digging into her own pocket, Lisa pulled out her ID wallet and dropped it next to Julie’s purse.

That’s all the time she had. She could already hear sirens approaching, which meant that someone had heard the screech of tires, and maybe even seen Julie’s body, and called for help. She prayed they hadn’t spotted her. She couldn’t wait around to find out.

Shaking violently, with tears of sorrow and panic splashing down her cheeks, she glanced one last time at Julie’s body.

Then she took off.

CHAPTER TWO

Downtown Chicago, Illinois

May 14th

Three days earlier…

Julie Forman couldn’t believe how quickly her luck had changed.

Just as she was about to fulfill her dream of buying her own gym with the inheritance her parents had left her, just as she had made huge strides in helping sixteen-year-old Shannon Barker move one step closer to realizing her Olympic dream, everything had turned to shit.

Shannon had been counting the days until her birthday—and not for the same reasons most sweet-sixteeners did. She’d wanted to become eligible for the US women’s gymnastics team.

Julie was just Shannon’s personal trainer, albeit at the hard-core gym Training Elite, which was Julie’s second place of employment. Specifically designed for athletes with a purpose, the gym—located just a couple of miles away from Designer Fitness—was the complete antithesis of the latter. No Pilates, aerobics, spin, or yoga classes. Just pushing to the max, sweating, and moving up level by level, working toward a competitive goal. Julie worked with Shannon on comprehensive strength and cardio training, catering her workout to a professional gymnast’s needs. Shannon was at Training Elite six days a week religiously, training for three hours in the morning and two in the evening.

In addition to that, Shannon’s daily highest-level workouts were conducted at the Apex Olympic Gymnastic Center, which was one step away from officially training at one of the three United States Olympic Training Centers.

Her manager/coach was Yuri Varennikov, who was practically a celebrity in the world of Olympic-training gymnastics. He was all about blistering hard work, discipline, and results. He managed Shannon’s upcoming career, pushed her to the limit, and turned her over to Jim Robbins, top-notch trainer to professional athletes. Jim’s job was to mold Shannon into the star she wanted to be. He did everything, from stretching her to perfecting her technique on every piece of gymnastics equipment. He seemed to know just how much his pupil could take, because Shannon always rose to the challenge.

In the past few months, Julie had truly started to believe that Shannon had a real shot. Her strength and her endurance had peaked. And, having watched Shannon train with Jim, Julie could see that her form and skill had peaked right along with them.

Julie’s star pupil was on the brink of something wonderful.

Until three days ago, when the whole world had shifted.

Shannon had run into Training Elite wearing a shoulder brace, tears streaking her cheeks. She’d begged Julie to talk to her alone.

They’d gone into Julie’s small private office and shut the door.

“Honey, what’s the matter? What happened?” Julie had been truly alarmed—and not only by the injury. The young girl had been sobbing and shaking and running trembling fingers through her hair again and again. She could barely catch her breath, she was sobbing so hard.

“It’s over,” she gasped. “My whole life. Everything. It’s over.”


Tags: Andrea Kane Forensic Instincts Mystery