She Was Their Target, page 1
SHE WAS THEIR TARGET
ZACHARY GOLDMAN MYSTERIES
BOOK FIFTEEN
P.D. WORKMAN
ABOUT SHE WAS THEIR TARGET
This story will tug at your heart as Zachary, at great peril to himself, obstinately takes on ‘Big Pharma’ with an investigation into the potential contributing factors leading to the tragic death of teenage girl, the daughter of one of Zachary’s few friends from his troubled youth.
KIM, GOODREADS READER
I was hooked from page one when I started this book. I lost some sleep, but staying up late to finish this book was unavoidable. I had to know how it ended.
KANDY, GOODREADS READER
A mystery thriller from USA Today Bestselling author, P.D. Workman that will keep you turning the pages!
Operating in the Dark
When Private Investigator Zachary Goldman is hired to investigate the death of an old friend’s daughter, what should have been a routine case becomes something much more sinister.
Kristin had secrets, things she didn’t share with her mother, and it’s up to Zachary to put together the clues to find out what was going on in her life. And those clues lead in unexpected directions. Did Kristin know the risks she was taking?
But as Zachary digs deeper, he discovers powerful forces at work who would prefer that the truth remains hidden.
For readers who love thrilling murder mysteries with complex twists and turns, this gripping novel is sure to keep you guessing until the very end.
Zachary Goldman, Private Investigator, is flawed with a capital F. Shattered by the tragedies of his own life, he will somehow still manage to pick himself up and dig just a little bit deeper than anyone else to piece together the vital clues and solve the mystery.
Maybe being broken makes it easier for others who have faced tragedy to trust him. Walk with Zachary as he solves cases that will stretch his abilities to the limit.
Even with his own life in shambles, Zachary Goldman is still the one you want on the case.
Looking for a thriller that will keep you up all night and stay with you long after the last page?
Investigate this P.I. Mystery now!
Copyright © 2023 by P.D. Workman
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 9781774685341 (KDP Paperback)
ISBN: 9781774685365 (KDP Hardcover)
ISBN: 9781774685372 (Large Print)
ISBN: 9781774685389 (Lulu Paperback)
ISBN: 9781774685358 (ePub)
ISBN: 9781774685396 (Accessible Audio)
Sign up for my mailing list at pdworkman.com and get Gluten-Free Murder for free!
Subscribe for other benefits!
To those who crave acceptance
And those willing to accept
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Preview of His Fear Was Real
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Also by P.D. Workman
About the Author
1
Zachary stared at the screen on his phone after the call ended, frowning and thinking about what the woman had said.
Jennifer. She had been Jennifer Olson when he had known her, but he couldn’t remember what she had just told him her married name was. He looked down at the notes he had scribbled while she was talking. Kristin Jones. That was her daughter. So she was Jennifer Jones now. A common name. One of those ones that was really fun to trace when he was trying to track someone down. But he didn’t have to track Jennifer down. He had her phone number and a time and place to meet with her.
Kenzie crossed his line of vision and said something to him. It was like she was far away or underwater. He knew she had spoken to him, but wasn’t sure what she’d said. Zachary rubbed his temples and focused on her, trying to pull his brain away from the woman on the phone. He was sitting on the couch in the living room, where he had been working on his laptop, and Kenzie had come in from the kitchen.
“Sorry, what?”
Kenzie raised her brows and shook her head, sending her dark curls bouncing. He wondered how many times she had repeated herself already. She didn’t look pleased about having to do it again.
“Where are you?” she asked. “Who was that on the phone?”
“Uh… a new client. Maybe. A woman I went to school with.”
“Oh…?” Kenzie sounded interested. Zachary rarely talked about school or his years in foster care. She knew the overall shape of his life before he had turned eighteen and aged out of the system, but he didn’t talk about it a lot. Didn’t mention specifics. He avoided even thinking about it if he could help it. Talking about it was the last thing he wanted to do. So when Kenzie learned something about his past, it was usually just one tidbit, or maybe something that came up in couple’s therapy. Where he still did his best to avoid diving too deeply into it. “What is her name?”
That part was easy. “Jennifer.” He looked for something else to tell Kenzie about her, to show that he was willing to share. “She was… in high school with me, I guess. I don’t remember very much about her. She was older. A couple of grades ahead of me.”
“So you probably didn’t know each other very well. Kids tend to stick with their own grades at that age.”
Zachary cupped his hands over his eyes. “We were… she was very nice. Not a lot of people in high school were nice.”
Kenzie made a sympathetic noise. “It’s a tough age, even without all the stuff that you had to go through.” She paused, waiting for him to say anything in response. “Are you going to help with supper?” she asked eventually. “Tyrrell will be here before long.”
“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Zachary rubbed his eyes briskly and got to his feet. That was probably what she’d been asking him.
It wasn’t like he was making the meal. Kenzie was handling most of that. But Zachary tried to help out—setting the table, making a salad, and getting out anything else she needed. He was happy to give her a hand with anything she needed him to do in the kitchen, but she didn’t usually trust him to do the actual cooking. That might have something to do with his ADHD and several meals in the past either put into the stove still wrapped in plastic, left in until they burned, or left sitting for an hour in a cold oven because he had forgotten to turn it on. That, and the fact that coordinating several dishes at once so that nothing burned and everything was finished at the same time required a level of concentration and executive function that he just didn’t have most days. He could manage a salad or a sandwich, which wouldn’t be ruined if he left them out or they sat on the counter for a while.
Waking up from his reverie about Jennifer, Zachary could smell the hearty scents of tomato sauce and cheese coming from the oven. And garlic. Hopefully, she had made garlic bread to go along with whatever else she had made—a favorite of Zachary’s and Tyrrell’s.
“Sorry, I should have come in earlier.”
Kenzie shrugged. “You were on the phone.”
Zachary moved around the bright, cheerful kitchen, getting out the plates, glasses, and cutlery. He was determined to stay focused on the job and not forget anything because he was thinking about Jennifer. He didn’t want to think about Jennifer. He would distract himself with the dinner preparations and then with the conversation with Tyrrell and Kenzie over dinner.
His younger brother Tyrrell was doing well
The doorbell rang. “There he is,” Kenzie said unnecessarily.
Zachary left what he was doing and went to the front door to let Tyrrell in and punch his code into the burglar alarm keypad so the alarm wouldn’t be triggered. They didn’t need security guards showing up for their dinner party.
“Zachary!” Tyrrell grinned at his big brother and threw his arms around him in a quick man-hug, pounding him on the back. “How’s it going, bro?”
“Pretty good,” Zachary told him, and stepped back to allow him in. “How’s everything with you?”
They started walking toward the kitchen.
“Alarm,” Kenzie called out.
Zachary looked back at the keypad. “I did it, didn’t I?”
Tyrrell shook his head and stepped back to punch the code in himself. There was an answering beep as the system cleared.
They joined Kenzie in the kitchen again. Tyrrell looked around. “Anything I can help with?”
Kenzie shook her head. “I think everything is done. Have a seat and tell us how it’s going.”
Zachary went over to the stove to help take out the hot dishes and get things to the table, but Kenzie frowned, making him retreat instead to sit down with their guest.
“It’s going great. Hillary says I have become ‘indispensable,’” Tyrrell bragged.
“Good for you.” Kenzie approved. “She’s so capable; I never thought she would let anyone else help out with the important stuff. I’m glad she has you to backstop her now.”
“Filing is up to date. The database is current. Mostly. I have some research to do on some organizations that we might consider supporting. She says it’s nice not to be behind on all the administrative stuff.”
“I’m sure it is.” Kenzie placed hot pads on the counter and transferred dishes from the oven. “I think we’ll just serve up buffet style, so we don’t have to try to pass around the hot dishes or reach across to get everything.”
She opened up the tinfoil-wrapped garlic bread and Tyrrell and Zachary salivated, watching her slice the crusty loaf. Kenzie paused to look at them. “You guys are two peas in a pod. You’d better eat your veggies!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tyrrell and Zachary responded in unison, then laughed.
Zachary felt a warm flush of affection for his brother. Looking at them, someone who didn’t know them would think that they had grown up together. But Tyrrell had only been eight when they had been placed into foster care, and Zachary had not seen him until decades later. A year and a half ago. They shared the same dark hair and eyes, some similar facial features, and memories of their family before the fire, but that was all. Zachary had spent eight years in foster care without any contact with his biological family and, when he aged out, he had been alone.
He was lucky to have his siblings back in his life again.
It was best to focus on the present.
2
So, tell us about this friend of yours who called,” Kenzie told Zachary, after Tyrrell had finished talking about what was going on in his life and at the foundation.
Zachary stopped chewing and looked at her. He had already said he didn’t remember Jennifer very well, so he hadn’t expected Kenzie to pursue it. He strained to swallow the lump of garlic bread still in his mouth.
“Uh… I don’t know how much there is to tell,” he waffled.
Tyrrell and Kenzie were both looking at him with interest. He supposed he would have to tell them something.
“You said she was an old friend from high school?” Kenzie prompted.
“I didn’t think you were in contact with anyone from that far back.” Tyrrell took a huge bite of the crusty garlic bread himself and spoke around it. “Other than Mr. Peterson.”
Zachary had been in and out of various families and facilities for years, and the only person he had kept in contact with was his old foster father, Lorne Peterson. It was Mr. Peterson who had sparked Zachary’s interest in photography and set him on the path to becoming a private investigator, even though, by that time, Zachary had long since moved on to other families and facilities. Along with his partner Patrick Parker, Mr. Peterson had provided Zachary with a sense of stability and family that he had not gotten anywhere else.
“We haven’t been in touch. This is the first time I’ve heard from her in years. Since she moved away. That’s why…” Zachary shrugged, “I don’t know much about her. It was a long time ago.”
“And she just reached out and called you?” Tyrrell asked. “Maybe she has some old romantic feelings for you.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Wants to rekindle things.”
Zachary’s face burned. “It was never anything like that!” He glanced at Kenzie, hoping she didn’t suspect Zachary’s motives. “She’s a potential client. That’s all. Needed a private investigator, and I guess she heard about one of my other cases…”
He’d had a few big cases that had hit the media and spread his name around, so some people who called him now were interested in hiring him specifically, rather than just a random name they had picked out of an internet search.
Jennifer hadn’t said which case she’d heard about. Zachary had recently investigated the death of a man who the medical examiner had initially said died of natural causes when, in fact, he had been poisoned. It had made a small splash in the Vermont papers but had not gone national like a couple of Zachary’s other cases.
“Oh, I see.” Tyrrell nodded. But he was still using his teasing voice. “A potential client.”
“She is.”
“What kind of case?” Kenzie asked, trying to rescue Zachary.
Zachary rubbed his forehead. He was starting to get a headache. “Her daughter. She died suddenly and Jennifer wants it investigated.”
“Oh, dear,” Kenzie shook her head at this. “How old was she?”
“A teenager. I’m not sure how old. Do you remember a Kristin Jones?”
“No.” Kenzie’s forehead creased as she thought about it. “I don’t remember the name and haven’t had any teenage girls through recently. Are you sure she went through the Roxboro medical examiner’s office?”
“No. She didn’t say. It might have been one of the bigger hospitals.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
Having Kenzie as a contact in the local medical examiner’s office was handy, but Zachary was not disappointed that Jennifer’s daughter hadn’t been autopsied by Kenzie or Dr. Wiltshire. He didn’t want to challenge another one of their cases quite so soon.
