Deadly Deceit from Karen Randau

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Book Description:

A cocoon of naiveté shatters on Rita Warren’s thirtieth
wedding anniversary, when a terrorist murders her ex-Marine husband Jared and
thirteen other movie goers.Ensnarled in a cover-up that puts her in an assassin’s crosshairs, Rita must
unravel a web of lies and connections that date back to Jared’s service in the
Iraq war – before a mysterious kidnapper returns Rita’s daughter Zoe one body
part at a time.

This fast-paced thriller is one you won’t want to put down from beginning to

I’d never seen him in our small
town of Rim Vista. He turned his blue and black motorcycle into the movie
theater parking lot behind the silver Cadillac my husband Jared used for
ferrying high-dollar real estate clients around Arizona.
The motorcyclist’s blue riding
clothes matched his sleek Yamaha. The snug fit of his clothes suggested a lean
and muscled young man. He paused by the sidewalk, at the front of the lane
where we parked and turned the reflective shield of his helmet toward us. He
pulled a paper from his jacket pocket. Looked down, then in our direction.
Stuffed the object into his saddlebag.
Jared pulled my attention away
from Motorcycle Guy when he slid a box with flowery wrapping from under his
seat. “Happy thirtieth anniversary, Rita.” He flashed his special smile that
melted my heart, as it had the first time I saw it in high school. Maybe
whatever had been bothering Jared for the past six months was over, and life
could return to normal.
My excitement plummeted when I
tore open the package and an ugly purse fell to the floor, cherry tooled
leather with a vintage Wild West
aura. I warned myself not to ruin what had otherwise been a fun day and
attempted a bright and cheerful tone. “Kind of an Annie Oakley look.” I nestled
into his shoulder, rubbed his cheek, breathed in his scent. “Thank you. I will
always cherish it because you gave it to me.”
“That’s what you used to say to
the kids when they made you crafts at school.” His firm grip on my shoulders
almost hurt as he pushed me away.
“And I’ve kept and treasured those
things.” I hoped my smile would recover the lighthearted mood we had maintained
all day.
“Hid them is more like it.” He
opened his door, told me to put his present in the trunk, and stomped away.
Motorcycle Guy was still idling
his bike at the front of our lane in the parking lot. Jared walked around him,
toward the box office. Motorcycle Guy watched me open and shut the trunk, then
moved forward and blocked my path to the sidewalk. Only for a moment. Long
enough for a shudder to roll through me. Between that young man acting strange
and Jared losing his temper again, I no longer wanted to see the movie.


Through a wall of windows in the
lobby, while Jared bought snacks and exchanged enthusiastic greetings with
neighbors, clients, and strangers, I watched Motorcycle Guy park his ride, stow
his helmet, and buy his ticket. He was about six feet tall, with a shaved head
and face. Handsome, in a twenty-something Will Smith way. He nodded a quick
greeting when he entered the lobby, then looked away. Maybe I’d misjudged him.
Maybe he was just waiting for his date to arrive.

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A native of the
southwestern U.S., Karen Randau has been writing and telling stories since
elementary school. She holds a degree in journalism/public relations from The
University of Texas at Austin and has enjoyed a long career in marketing
communications.After a short stint working in a psychiatric hospital, when she wrote three
self-help books, Karen joined an international relief and development
organization to use her skills to help people struggling with extreme poverty.
She has traveled to numerous developing countries, witnessing famines,
violence, and hopeful people working to overcome a generational cycle of

She loves to read and write fast-paced mysteries and thrillers, especially
those with intricate plots, lots of action, and rollercoaster-like twists and



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