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The Traitor's Pawn

Page 26

by Lisa Harris


  “Honestly . . . ,” she said.

  “Yes. Honestly.”

  “My heart is telling me that I want you to kiss me. Very badly.”

  “Can I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He shot her a broad smile. “Because I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a very long time.”

  He leaned toward her, but she put her finger on his lips and leaned back as a wave of panic struck. “Wait a minute.”

  “Wait a minute?”

  “As much as I’m wanting to kiss you right now, I need to know what we’re starting, Jack. Because I’m not the kind of woman who goes around kissing men. Or giving her heart away without knowing what their intentions are.”

  “And I certainly wouldn’t want you to be.”

  “In all seriousness, I need to know that if this is really love—if that’s what we’re both feeling—then I want to jump in with my eyes wide open and play this out to the end. You walked out on me once and never looked back.”

  “I think I was always looking back at you.”

  “But this can’t be some emotional reaction to everything that’s happened,” she argued. “I can’t watch you turn around and leave for Denver in a few days and leave me here.”

  “Like I did last time.”

  She nodded, wishing she could find a way to better explain what she was feeling.

  “You know I would never do that,” he said.

  “I just . . . I don’t know how we are going to manage this . . . us. We don’t even live in the same state. We both have demanding jobs.”

  “I’ve done a lot of thinking about that lately.”

  “You have?”

  “Oh yeah . . .” He trailed his thumb across her jaw. “I actually have a friend at the Houston field office. An old buddy of mine from the academy. He recently told me about an opening there, and apparently I’m a shoo-in if I want the job.”

  “How recently did you talk to him?”

  “This morning.”

  “This morning? You’ve already started looking for another job?”

  “I knew that if I was really serious about you—which I am—I had to find a way to show you we could make this work. I’m not interested in a long-distance relationship.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Jack laughed. “And I’m not used to you being speechless. Just tell me you love me and that we can make up for a decade of missing each other.”

  She smiled, knowing without a doubt she felt the same way. “I love you and want to make up for a decade of missing you.”

  “Do you mean that?” he asked.

  “With all of my heart.”

  He shot her a grin. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She leaned in and brushed her lips across his. “I’d say it’s long overdue.”

  A Preview from Book 1 in the US Marshals Series

  CHAPTER ONE

  THERE IS A RAZOR-THIN EDGE between justice and revenge, where the two easily blur if left unchecked. Five years after her husband’s murder, Madison James was still trying to discover which side of the line she was on—though maybe it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing she did was going to bring Luke back.

  Her pulse raced as she neared the final dozen yards of her morning run, needing the release of endorphins to pick up her mood and get her through the day. At least she had the weather on her side. After weeks of spring rains, typical for the Pacific Northwest, the sun was finally out, showing off blue skies and a stunning view of Mount Rainier in the distance. Spring had also brought with it the bright yellow blooms of the Oregon grape shrubs planted widely throughout Seattle along with colorful wild currants.

  You couldn’t buy that kind of therapy.

  Nearing the end of the trail, she slowed down and grabbed her water bottle out of her waist pack. Seconds later, her sister Danielle stopped beside her and leaned over, hands on her thighs, as she caught her breath.

  “Not bad for your second week back on the trail,” Madison said, stretching out one of her calves. “It won’t be long before you’re back up to your old distances.”

  “I don’t know. I’m starting to think it’s going to take more than running three times a week to work off these pounds.” Danielle let out a low laugh. “Does chasing a toddler around the house, planning my six-year-old’s birthday, and pacing the floor with a colicky baby count as exercise? And don’t forget Dad will be here tomorrow.”

  “That absolutely all counts.” Madison stretched the other side. “And as for the extra weight, that baby of yours is worth every pound you gained. Besides, you still look terrific.”

  Danielle chuckled. “If this is looking terrific, I can’t imagine what a good night’s sleep would do.”

  “You’ll get back to your old self in a few weeks.”

  “That’s what Ethan keeps telling me.”

  Madison stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it all. You’re Superwoman as far as I’m concerned.”

  Danielle laughed. “Yep, if changing diapers and making homemade playdough are my superpowers. You, on the other hand, actually save lives every day.”

  “You’re raising the next generation.” Madison caught her sister’s gaze. “Never take lightly the importance of being a mom. And you’re one of the best.”

  “How do you always know what to say?” Danielle dropped her water bottle back into its pouch. “But what about you? You haven’t mentioned Luke yet today.”

  Madison frowned. She knew her sister would bring him up eventually. “That was on purpose. Today I’m celebrating your getting back into shape and the stunning weather. I have no intention of spending the day feeling sorry for myself.”

  Danielle didn’t look convinced. “That’s fine. Just make sure you’re not burying your feelings, Maddie.”

  “I’m not. Trust me.” Madison hesitated, hoping her attempt to sound sincere rang true. “Between grief counseling and support from people like my amazing sister, I’m a different person today. And I should be. It’s been five years.”

  “Despite what they say, time doesn’t heal all wounds.”

  Madison started walking toward the parking lot where they’d left their cars. She’d heard every cliché there was about healing and quickly learned to dismiss most of them. Her healing journey couldn’t be wrapped up in a box or mapped out with a formula. Loss changed everything and there was no way around it. There was no road map to follow that led you directly out of the desert.

  “Did you go to the gravesite today?” Danielle asked, matching Madison’s pace.

  “Not yet.”

  “You usually go first thing in the morning.”

  “I know.”

  Except this year. She slowed her pace slightly. Every year on the anniversary of Luke’s death, she’d taken flowers to his grave, but for some reason, she hadn’t gone this morning, and she wasn’t even sure why. She’d been told how grief tended to evolve. The hours and days after Luke’s death had left her paralyzed and barely functioning, until one day, she woke up and realized time had continued on and somehow so had she. She wasn’t done grieving or processing the loss—maybe she never would be completely—but she’d managed to make peace with her new life.

  Most days, anyway.

  “You know I’m happy to go with you,” Danielle said.

  “I appreciate that, but I’ll be fine. I’ll go later today.”

  Danielle had always been the protective older sister for as long as she remembered.

  Her sister pulled out her water bottle again, took a sip, and stared off into the distance. “Want to head up on the observation deck? The view of Mount Rainier should be stunning today.”

  “I need to get back early, but there is something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Of course.”

  Madison hesitated, worried she was going to lose her nerve if she didn’t tell her sister now. “I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching lately, a
nd I feel like there are some things I need to do in order to move on with my life.”

  “Okay.” Danielle stopped in front of her and turned around, hands on her hips. “That’s great, though I’m not sure what it means.”

  Madison hesitated. “I’ve asked for a transfer.”

  Danielle took a step back. “Wait a minute. A transfer? To where?”

  Madison started walking again. “Just down to the US Marshal district office in Portland. Maybe it sounds crazy, but I’ve been feeling restless for a while. I think it’s time for a fresh start. And I’ll be closer to Dad.”

  “Wait a minute . . .” Danielle caught her arm. “You don’t have to move away to get a fresh start. And there are plenty of other options besides moving, the most logical one being that we can move Dad up here. I’ll help you look for a place for him like we talked about, and we’ll be able to take care of him together—”

  Madison shook her head. “He’ll never agree to move. You know how stubborn he is, besides—he visits Mom’s grave every day. How can we take that away from him? It’s his last connection to her.”

  “He needs to be here. You need to be here.”

  Madison hesitated, wishing now that she hadn’t brought it up. “Even if Dad wasn’t in the equation, I need to do this for me. It’s been five years. I need to move on, and for me that means finally selling the house and starting over. I’ve been dragging my feet for too long.”

  “I’m all for moving on, but why can’t you do that right here? Buy another house in a different suburb, or a loft downtown if you want to be closer to work. Seattle’s full of options.”

  Madison’s jaw tensed, but she wasn’t ready to back down. “I need to do this. And I need you to support me.”

  “I get that, but what if I need you here? I know that’s selfish, but I want my girls to know their aunt. I want to be able to meet you spontaneously for lunch when you’re free, or shopping, or—”

  “It’s a three-hour drive. I can come up for birthdays and holidays and—”

  “With all your time off.” Danielle shook her head. “I know your intentions are good, but I’d be lucky if you get up here once a year.”

  “You’re wrong.” Madison fought back with her own objections. “I’m not running away. I’m just . . . starting over.”

  Danielle’s hands dropped to her sides in defeat. “Just promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

  “I haven’t. I’ve just been doing some research.”

  Danielle glanced at her watch. “I hate to cut things off here, but I really do need to get back home. I didn’t know it was so late. Come over for dinner tonight. We can talk about it more. Ethan’s bringing home Chinese takeout. Besides, you don’t need to be alone today. I’m sure the anniversary of Luke’s death is part of what’s triggered this need to move.”

  Madison frowned, even though her sister’s words hit their target. “You know I love you, but I don’t need a babysitter.”

  She blinked back the memories. Five years ago today, two officers had been waiting for her when she got home to tell her that they were sorry, but her husband had been shot and proclaimed dead at the scene. They’d never found his killer, and life after that moment had never been the same.

  “Is it enough that I love your company?” Danielle asked.

  “I was going to spend a quiet night at home.”

  “Maddie—”

  “I might be your little sister, but I’m not so little anymore. Stop worrying. I’m good. I promise. I just need a change. And I need you to support my decision.”

  “Fine. You know I will, even though I will continue to try and change your mind. We could go house hunting together. In fact, there’s a cute house for sale a couple blocks from my house that would be perfect—”

  “Enough.” She reached out and squeezed Danielle’s hand. “Whatever happens, I promise I’ll still come up for the fall marathon, so I can beat you again—”

  “What? I beat you by a full minute and a half last year.”

  Madison shoved her earbuds in her ears and started running. “What? I can’t hear you.”

  “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

  She flashed her sister a smile, then started sprinting toward the parking lot. She breathed in a lungful of air. Memories flickered in the background no matter how much she tried to shove them down.

  For her it had been love at first sight. She’d met Luke in the ER. She’d been the patient with kidney stones and an allergic reaction to pain medicine. He’d been the handsome doctor she couldn’t keep her eyes off. Ten months later they married at the church she was a part of. They’d spent their honeymoon taking the ferry to Vancouver Island and holing up in a private beach house with a view of the ocean. After the honeymoon, their biggest problem had been schedules that always worked against them. An ER doc and a police officer about to be promoted to detective made for long hours and crazy schedules. They’d fought for the same days off so they could go hiking together at Snoqualmie Pass, Mount Rainier National Park, and the Olympic Peninsula. And when they managed to score an extra couple days, they’d rent a cabin in Lakebay and ditch the world for forty-eight hours.

  Marriage hadn’t been perfect, but it had been good because they’d both meant the part of “for better or worse.” Which meant divorce had never been an option in either of their minds. Instead, they’d plowed through rough patches, learned to communicate better, and never went to bed angry. Somehow it had worked.

  When they started thinking about having a family, she’d decided that after the first baby was born, she’d pursue teaching criminal justice instead of chasing down criminals so she could have a regular schedule and not put her life in danger on a daily basis. Luke decided to look for opportunities at a local clinic that would give him regular hours.

  But there’d never been a baby. Instead, in one fatal moment, everything they planned changed forever.

  Madison’s heart pounded as she ran across the parking lot, trying to outrun the memories. Five years might not be enough time to escape the past, but it was time to try and start making new ones.

  Tomorrow, she was going to call a realtor.

  She was breathing hard when she made it back to her car. She clicked on the fob, then slid into the front seat for the ten-minute drive back to the house she and Luke had bought. It was one of the reasons why she’d decided to move. No matter where she went, memories followed her. The starter home had become a labor of love as they’d taken the plunge and moved out of their apartment to become homeowners. A year later, they’d remodeled the kitchen and master bath, finished the basement, and added a wooden deck outside. Everything had seemed perfect. And now, while moving out of state might not fix everything, it felt like the next, needed step of moving forward with life.

  Inside the house, she dropped her keys onto the kitchen counter, then looked around the room. She’d made a few changes over the years. Fresh paint in the dining room. New pillows on the couch. But it still wasn’t enough.

  No. She was making the right decision.

  She started toward the hallway, then stopped. Something seemed . . . off. The air conditioner clicked on. She reached up to straighten a photo of Mount St. Helens that Luke had taken. She was being paranoid. The doors were locked. No one had followed her home. No one was watching her. It was just her imagination.

  She stopped just inside her bedroom.

  It was lying there. On her comforter. One black rose, just like she’d found every year at her husband’s grave on the anniversary of his death. But this time, it was in her room. In her house. Her heart pounded in her chest. Five years after her husband’s death, she still had no solid leads on who killed him or who sent the flower every year. If it was the same person, they knew how to stay in the shadows and not get caught. But why? It was the question she’d never been able to answer.

  She’d accepted Luke’s death and had slowly begun to heal, but this . . . this was different. Whatever started five years ago wasn
’t over.

  Lisa Harris is a bestselling author, a Christy Award winner, and the winner of the Best Inspirational Suspense Novel from Romantic Times for her novels Blood Covenant and Vendetta. The author of more than thirty books, including The Nikki Boyd Files and the Southern Crimes series, as well as Vanishing Point and A Secret to Die For, Harris and her family have spent almost fifteen years living as missionaries in southern Africa. Learn more at www.lisaharriswrites.com.

  LisaHarrisWrites.com

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  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Endorsements

  Half Title Page

  Also by Lisa Harris

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Contents

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  A Preview from Book 1 in the US Marshals Series

  About the Author

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  List of Pages

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