The Perfect Death: Cool down from the heat with this chilling tale!

Returning home might be the last thing she ever does…

Kenzi Bannon left her painful childhood behind for the glitz and glamour of California. But when her estranged sister commits suicide, she’s forced to return to her abandoned family house. Unexpectedly made guardian to her grieving teenaged niece, Kenzi becomes increasingly convinced her sister’s death was murder.

Devastated by shocking evidence proving Kenzi’s theory, the pair scour the ramshackle house for clues. But when eerie sounds echo through the hallways and the real killer comes after them, she must work fast to unmask the true culprit.

Can Kenzi and her niece get justice for her sister before they follow her into an early grave?

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Excerpt

It’s after midnight by the time we pull up to the road leading to my parents’ abandoned house. Ember and I are in Claire’s car, which we picked up at her office, and Richard in his truck.

The street is exactly as I remember it—well-kept with the enormous homes spread out far from each other. Many are tucked so far back, they can’t be seen from the road. My family’s house was the first built and is the last on the long street. It’s not hidden from view, but its immense backyard stretches farther than I was allowed to explore as a child.

I pull into the driveway. The structure looms in front of us, even bigger than my sister’s home. It didn’t seem too huge when I lived there. No, that isn’t true. I rarely had friends over because I was embarrassed by the size. I’ve just gotten used to a super-tiny living space since being on my own, which now makes my childhood home feel monstrous.

“It looks haunted,” Ember whispers.

“That’s because it’s dark outside and hasn’t been taken care of. All it needs is some TLC. But we’ll worry about that later. Let’s just get everything inside, then we’ll be free of Richard.” I rub my temples, trying to get rid of the headache that came back after reuniting with him.

“Can’t wait for that.” She opens her door.

I dig through my purse for the keychain and stare at the home before getting out. Old memories run through my mind, just as dusty as everything inside must be.

Richard slams the truck’s driver side door. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

He glares at me.

I look back and forth between the house and the full vehicles. My body aches with exhaustion already, more from dealing with Richard’s complaints and bellows than the actual labor of packing up two lives. Only two bags are mine—just what I could carry on the plane with me. I still have to deal with my apartment and explaining this mess to my boss.

All I want to do is sleep. But that’s going to be a long time coming.

I march up the cracked walkway and try to ignore the overgrown lawn. As I get closer to the house, I notice peeling paint and thick layers of grime. It’s going to take more work than I imagined, and this is just the outside.

The top lock struggles against the key from so many years of disuse. After a few jiggles, it relents and unlocks. Then I repeat the process with the lock on the knob. It twists, and I open the door. It creaks in protest.

Out of habit, I reach for the light switch. But then I realize this place is probably without power. Doesn’t sound like anyone has been here since my parents moved out.

But the moment I flip the switch, light flickers on. Nearly all the furniture is covered, and the cloth is caked in dust. The floor is covered with old muddy footprints that will surely be challenging to get off. The large curved staircase in front of us is exactly as I remember it, though dusty, with its polished wood and ornate wooden railing. I remember running my hands over the carvings countless times as a child.

“You can stare later,” Richard snaps. “Help me get your stuff inside.”

Ember and I exchange a look before following him outside. We clear the car before moving on to the truck. There isn’t much left, as he already got a lot of it. Clearly, he’s as eager to be rid of us as we are of him.

Once it’s empty, he wipes his hands on his pants. “Looks like we’re done here.”

“What if there’s something we forgot?” Ember asks.

“Shouldn’t be.” He climbs into the driver’s seat.

Ember steps closer. “What if there is?”

“Then call me. Hand over your key.”

Her expression falls.

My heart breaks for her. She’s officially lost everything in less than twenty-four hours.

Richard extends his hand toward her.

She draws a ragged breath, removes a key from a chain, and hands it over.

“See you at the funeral.” He stuffs the key into a pocket. “Natasha will be in touch with the details.”

“Are you kidding me?” I press the door so he can’t shut it. “You’re going to plan it without Ember? Me? We’re Claire’s blood.”

“And I’m the husband. I’m in charge.” He slams the door, barely giving me time to jump out of the way.

“I hate him,” Ember mutters as he drives away.

“Can’t say I blame you, especially if he’s always like that.”

“Yep.”

I remote lock the Mercedes and put my arm around her. “Let’s get settled. I’ll call Natasha tomorrow and see if she can’t at least let you help with the memorial.”

Ember shrugs.

I guide her inside and close the door behind us. A small plume of dust puffs out.

“What now?” My niece leans against a pile of boxes.

“I think we should get some sleep. We’ll deal with all of this tomorrow.” I hand her a box marked with a star—the things she needs for tonight—then grab my two bags.

“Where?” She looks around.

“You could take your mom’s old room and I’ll take mine. Unless you don’t want to be in her room? Is that too much right now?”

Ember adjusts her hold on the box. “No, I think I’d like to be in her room.”

“Mine’s just next door, if you need me.”

“I remember.”

We make our way up the creaky stairs. I don’t recall them being so noisy. It sends a shiver down my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I silently chastise myself for being so creeped out. It’s the house I grew up in. Nothing more. It just needs some love.

Ember stops, and I nearly run into her.

“You okay?”

She looks around. “Did you hear that?”

I listen, only hearing our breathing. “Hear what?”

“I’m not sure. But it was something.”

“Like I said before, probably rodents. Nobody’s been here in a long time.”

Without a word, we make our way to the second floor. The entry has all the same paintings and statues that I remember. They fascinated me as a child, and I often played with the statues as if they were large, immobile dolls.

“You sure about that?” Ember asks.

“About what?”

She nods down the hall. “About nobody being here.”

I glance in the direction and notice spray paint on one wall. “You have got to be kidding me. Vandals broke in?” I swear. “Was your mom aware of that?”

Ember shrugs.

“We’re going to have to check out every square inch of this place. Or at least I am. You can get settled if you want.”

She puts down her box and steps closer. “I’m not leaving your side.”

Like I’m going to offer much protection if we find someone hiding somewhere. And that might not be out of the realm of possibility. The house is huge. Something like five thousand square feet. I remember my parents throwing that number around.

“Are you scared?” Ember looks at me with huge eyes, reminding me of when she was little.

I swallow and try to ignore my racing heart. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Let’s just do this. Whoever was in here is probably long gone.”

She jolts. “What if we find a dead body?”

“Thanks for putting that thought in my mind. We’re not going to find a dead body.”

“What if we do?”

Another chill runs down my spine. I drop my bags next to her box. “This isn’t a murder house. It’s our home. Your mom and I grew up here, and so did your grandparents, and so on, going back I don’t know how many generations.”

“They never told you?” she asks.

“If they did, I wasn’t listening. Come on. We need to check everything out so we can go to bed. I’m exhausted, and you must be too.”

“Not at the moment.” She moves even closer to me.

“It’s not a murder house.” I say it more for me than her. But then I recall going to therapy for having a friend my parents said was imaginary. Billa came to play when I was alone. She was real. Not imaginary, and not a ghost. The girl was just shy, and she didn’t want her parents to find out that she was sneaking out. Nothing weird about that.

Okay, now that I think about that as an adult, it is a little strange.

But that doesn’t make this a murder house. That would be even crazier than the day I’ve had.

“You okay, Aunt Kenzi?”

I snap my attention back to her. “Yeah, of course. This place just brings back a lot of memories. It’s weird.”

“Ghostly memories?”

“Nope.” I loop my arm around hers and head downstairs. “I’m going to prove to you that this is just a lonely, forgotten home. We’ll bring it back to life, and then you know what you’ll think of it as?”

“A bright, cheery murder house?”

“You need to stop watching scary movies and start—”

“I read far more scary books than watch movies, I’ll have you know.”

“Either way, you need a new hobby.” I look back and forth, trying to decide which way we should start. We can either start with the kitchen or the living room, then to all the rooms beyond.

“Everything looks normal here,” she says. “If someone broke in, it was probably in the back.”

“That’s true. All the other houses in the neighborhood are well-kept, so a broken window or whatever would probably be noticed right away.”

She stands straighter. “Let’s check the ballroom first. It has the biggest windows, so probably the easiest to break.”

“Sounds good to me.” I step off the last stair and turn right. We pass a sitting room with windows facing the front. Everything looks normal there—intact glass and covered furniture. I walk through the room, using my phone as a flashlight and look anywhere someone could be hiding.

“What are we going to do if we do find someone? Or a body?”

“Enough with the body talk, seriously. We’re not going to find anyone, but if we do, we’ll run and call the cops. You have a phone?”

She nods. “But I don’t know how long it’ll last. I can’t imagine Richard will keep paying for it.”

“I’m sure he won’t shut it off tonight.” I move to the hall and check the library. More dust and covered furniture, but nothing suspicious. Same with the ballroom and living room beyond that. We keep going and come to my dad’s office.

A boarded window.

Ember grabs my arm. “See? Someone was here!”

“And the situation was clearly taken care of.” I spin around and find spray paint on one wall and notice the old muddy footprints are thickest in this room. Some things from a shelf are spread out on the floor. “You don’t remember your mom ever mentioning this?”

She shakes her head no.

“Well, it’s fine. Whoever broke in is long gone.” We continue down the hall, checking rooms until we come to the kitchen.

Ember’s eyes light up. “Think there’s anything to eat? I’m starving.”

“This place has been empty for five years, except for the intruders.”

She frowns. “Never mind. I’m more tired than hungry, anyway.”

We go upstairs and check the bedrooms and other living areas, mostly just finding covered furniture and dust. The playroom has empty beer cans and candy wrappers, but nothing looks out of place—and more importantly, nobody’s inside.

Ember leans against a wall and gestures to the ceiling. “Are we going to check the third floor?”

“It’s more of an attic,” I point out but realize that like the other two floors, it’s massive. “Or at least, I’ve always thought of it as an attic. It wasn’t a living space when I was growing up. Technically it was built to be servant’s quarters, but I was never allowed up there. It’s storage space.”

She lifts a brow. “Grandpa never let me up there when I visited, either. We should check it out. If anywhere is likely to have a—”

“Don’t say it.” I march toward the door leading to the third floor before she can say ghost or dead body. I twist the knob, but it’s still locked after all these years. “It’s inaccessible. No need to worry.”

“Or all the more reason to worry.”

I shake my head.

“Unlock it.”

“I don’t have the key.”

She folds her arms. “Try the house key.”

“Look at this keyhole. It takes a skeleton key.”

“If you’re scared, I’ll try it.”

I’m not about to let her destroy the antique knob trying to get in the third floor. I gently press the key to the hole. “See? Not even close to a match.”

She stares at the door like it could bite her. “I’d feel better looking around up there.”

“It’s just filled with boxes. My parents always used it for storage.”

“In other words, for hiding things.” She gives me a knowing look.

“Yeah, like Christmas presents. Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

“Wait!”

I turn around. “What now?”

“We should at least try the door.”

I take a deep breath and gesture toward it. “Do the honors.”

“Really?” Her eyes widen.

“It’s always been locked and we don’t have the key. It’s probably somewhere in this house, but good luck finding it.”

She grabs the knob and turns it to the left and the right. Then she pulls on it with both hands. She repeats the process before giving up. “It’s not going to budge.”

“We’ll look in there another time. If we can’t get in, nobody else would have been able to either.”

“Isn’t there a basement?”

“Also locked. I already checked the knob when we passed the door.”

Her lips part. “That’s what that was? I thought it was a closet.”

I shake my head and turn toward our bedrooms.

“What’s down there?”

“Nothing,” I snap. “It’s locked. That’s all we need to know.”

She arches a brow. “Triggered much?”

I flash back to getting myself locked down there as a little girl and being scared of the loud machinery that looked like monsters ready to eat me. “We can check the third floor and basement another time, preferably when it’s light. Sound good?”

“I thought we didn’t have keys.”

“We don’t, but I have a few ideas where Dad hid them.”

“Okay.” She yawns. “I’m tired, anyway.”

“Sure you don’t want to crash in the same room tonight? I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Ember looks conflicted. “It’d make you feel better?”

“Yeah,” I say, even though it’s not me I’m worried about.

She shrugs. “Okay, sure. I can do that for you.”

“Thanks.” I grab my backpack and glance at my old bathroom. “Hopefully this place still has running water. I was surprised about the electricity.”

Ember glances down. “I think Mom always kept this place as a backup.”

“Backup?”

“To get away from Richard.”

It makes sense, given what little I’ve seen of the jerk. “Well, maybe we’re in luck and have water. Let’s get some sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

She runs her finger along the statue of a man holding a globe and looks at the thick layer of dust. “We have a lot of work to do for the whole summer.”

“That we do.” My gaze lands on the spray paint behind her. We’ll be lucky to make this place home before she starts school in the fall.

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And coming soon… book 5 in the series!