He shook his head. “She’s a feisty one, no doubt about that. She’s desperate to find her cousin and pushes me on a daily basis about our progress, but clearly Erin’s not too keen on being found.”
“Do you think she’s still alive?”
“I hope so because I think she’s the only one who knows what happened the night Michael Jeffries was killed and his father, the congressman, shot and left for dead.”
“Besides the murderer.”
“Exactly,” he murmured.
She caught Jonas’s eye. “Excuse me.”
Nicholas smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of true love.”
She punched Nicholas in the arm and made her way over to Jonas. “You don’t need an apron, you’re not cooking.”
“I know, but Felix gave it me for my birthday a couple of months ago and I figured now was a good time to test drive it.”
He stole her heart in so many ways. “You’re a wonderful dad, Jonas.”
He leaned over to place a light kiss on her lips. The crowd faded away. “I love you, Brooke. I feel like I’ve loved you forever. How do you feel about adoption?”
She blinked. “As you can imagine, I’ve thought about it a lot. Why?”
“So you’ve thought about it. Does that mean you’re open to it?”
She gave a small laugh. “Of course. Are you?”
“That’s why I’m asking. I think you’d be a great mother.”
Tears surfaced. She blinked them back. “Thanks, Jonas. I like to think I would.”
“So, do you want to adopt some kids?”
She wasn’t slow. She caught the meaning behind his words. “I think that would be lovely. One day.”
“One day…soon?”
“Possibly. That depends.”
“On what?”
“On how soon the father of those adopted kids wants to adopt.”
“He wants to pretty soon, I’m sure.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Jonas glanced over his shoulder and she saw him wink at Felix who seemed to have a boundless amount of energy. He bounced on the balls of his feet. At his dad’s wink, his eyes went wide. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out a whistle. Jonas nodded. Felix blew the whistle. Everyone went quiet.
Felix said, “I have an announcement to make.” He looked at Jonas. “Actually my dad has a question to ask.”
Brooke looked at Jonas. He swallowed hard and gave a small laugh. “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have invited all these people because I’m really nervous now,” he whispered. “But, oh well.” He dropped to his knee and a soft gasp escaped her.
The crowd stayed silent.
“Jonas?”
Indecision flickered in his eyes. “Is it too soon?”
And Brooke knew. She had no doubts. Jonas was the man she would marry. “No, it’s not too soon.”
His brilliant smile flashed at her. “Brooke, it’s been a long time coming, but—” he took a deep breath “—I love you. Will you marry me and fill up our house with Felix and a bunch of other kids from the children’s home?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she whispered. “A thousand times yes.”
Felix whooped. Clapping and cheers broke out. Jonas lowered his lips to hers and gave her a thoroughly approving kiss. Then he swept her off her feet and swung her around in a circle. When he placed her back on her feet, Mercy bounded over and barked. Jonas scratched her ears and Felix dropped to the ground to hug her. When Felix stood, he looked up at Brooke and gave her a shy smile. “Does this mean I get to call you Mom?”
“You don’t have to, but I would be honored for you to call me Mom if it’s what you want,” she said.
“I want.” He blinked rapidly and sniffed, then stepped forward to wrap her in a hug. “Thanks…Mom.”
Brooke had to clear her throat before she could speak. And she could only squeak out, “You bet…son.”
Felix released her. Jonas looked like he might join in the crying fest, but then people started in on the congratulations and Brooke found her tears gone, laughter taking their place. After a few minutes, she flung herself back in Jonas’s arms. “Thank you.”
“I should be the one thanking you. You’ve made Felix and me complete now.” He took her left hand in his and slipped a beautiful diamond on her ring finger. “I’ve had that ring for a long time.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“Say you’ll stay with me forever.”
She nodded through the tears that had surfaced once again. “I’ll stay. Forever.”
Another kiss followed another hug, with his arms wrapped tight around her and her head nestled against his healing shoulder.
She sighed and sent up a thankful prayer. She was right where she wanted to be.
Forever.
*
If you liked this CAPITOL K-9 UNIT novel,
watch for the next book,
SECURITY BREACH by Margaret Daley,
available June 2015.
And don’t miss a single story in the
CAPITOL K-9 UNIT miniseries:
Book #1: PROTECTION DETAIL by Shirlee McCoy
Book #2: DUTY BOUND GUARDIAN by Terri Reed
Book #3: TRAIL OF EVIDENCE by Lynette Eason
Book #4: SECURITY BREACH by Margaret Daley
Book #5: DETECTING DANGER by Valerie Hansen
Book #6: PROOF OF INNOCENCE by Lenora Worth
Keep reading for an excerpt from EXPLOSIVE ALLIANCE by Susan Sleeman
Dear Reader,
Thank you for coming along with me on Jonas and Brooke’s journey to catch the bad guy and find love along the way. I so enjoyed getting to know the characters. All Jonas wanted was to keep his son safe and convince Brooke he was the guy for her in spite of the pain of the past. Brooke had to learn that sometimes playing it safe isn’t always what God wants us to do. Sometimes He’ll ask us to step out of our comfort zones in order to complete the tasks He has for us—and to receive the blessings He wants to bestow. As I wrote this story, I was reminded that I need to do that. To take risks, step out of my comfort zone, see what God has planned for me. I want to encourage you to do that, as well!
If you’ve enjoyed this story, I’d love for you to let me know that. My email is [email protected]. My website is www.lynetteeason.com and you can also find me on Facebook (www.facebook.com/lynette.eason) and Twitter (@lynetteeason). I look forward to hearing from you!
God Bless,
http://www.harlequin.com/harlequinexperience
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ONE
Murderer!
The word hung in the soggy air.
Krista Curry could feel it. Taste it. Smell it.
She hunched forward, hiding her face and holding her breath, waiting for someone in the crowd to recognize her. To shout out the horrific title she’d been branded with after her husband, Toby, was murdered four years ago.
She shifted on the hard stadium chair. Risked a quick glance around Providence Park’s open-air stadium. Rain flooded from dusky skies, the seats glistening, the players soaked as they slogged over a field shadowed with whispery swatches of fog.
“Watch the net.” Her grandfather’s shout mingled with the crowd’s cheers for the Portland Timbers. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, the pure joy of the sport widening his smile that was often marred from battling cancer.
Krista’s heart creased with concern for him. She didn’t know if he’d beat stage three cancer or how many more joyful days he’d have. She’d do anything for him. Including risking recognition and someone calling her out in public so he could attend the soccer match.
Oh, Opa. Her precious Opa.
She loved everything about him, including his insistence that she use the informal German name for grandfather. He was the one man she could count on. The man who’d helped her survive the loss of her mother. Who’d stood by her when her father had gone to prison for murder. Who’d believed in her when she’d been accused of killing Toby.
She couldn’t lose him to cancer. She just couldn’t.
“Did you see that save, Liebchen?” he asked excitedly, using his pet name that meant sweetheart. He placed a hand on her knee. She jumped, immediately regretting her startled response when concern wiped away his joy.
He eyed her for a long, uncomfortable moment. “What is going on in that mind that has you wound as tight as a spring?”
“Nothing that’s worth taking you away from your game.”
He watched her for another second before turning back to the match. The Timbers scored a goal. He whooped loudly. He suddenly clutched his neck and coughed, cleared his throat and coughed harder. He gasped for air, his chest heaving with the effort.
She grabbed his water only to discover she’d kicked the cup over. She swirled the container, grateful to find a small amount of liquid still in the bottom. He quickly gulped it down, then cleared his throat hard.
“Better?” she asked.
He sighed out a long breath. “Better.”
She took the cup. “If I go fill this, will you be okay by yourself?”
“I am not one of the preschoolers in your class, you know.” His feisty attitude returned, along with his fierce sense of independence. The same independence she’d fought since she’d come back to Portland weeks ago to care for him. The chemo treatments left him more helpless than he’d admit, and he continued to make decisions that weren’t always in his best interest. Coming to the match was a perfect example. Now he needed water to stay hydrated and silence his cough.
“I’ll be right back.” She slipped around his feet and avoided making eye contact with anyone. She put one foot in front of the other on the slick concrete. Down the stairs. Quickly toward the Mezzanine Terrace. Praying for anonymity.
Feeling eyes on her, she raised her head. Inch by inch, she scanned the area ahead. A uniformed deputy leaned against the railing, his focus on her.
No. Oh, no. Did he recognize her? Did he know about Toby’s murder—about the accusations? That even though the police had never brought formal charges, she hadn’t been fully cleared?
Or maybe he’d simply noticed her jumpy behavior and suspected she was up to something. The last thing she needed or wanted was for a cop to start questioning her.
He caught her studying him and smiled. A sizzling, I’m-all-that kind of smile. A clear look of interest burned in his eyes. He didn’t know who she was. This was a simple case of a man interested in a woman. In her. It was there in his eyes. There in his body turned toward her. Anticipation saturated his expression and he didn’t try to hide it. Her heart gave a kick. Warning bells followed, telling her to look away, but she couldn’t manage it.
She suddenly realized she was staring and dropped her gaze to the walkway to take the last few steps without falling.
She heard him chuckle before he said, “Evening, ma’am.”
His lazy, Southern drawl took her by surprise, bringing her eyes back up. She caught a quick look at his name tag—Deputy Cash Dixon—before the heat of a blush crept up her face.
“You look a bit flustered,” he went on. “Anything I can help you with?”
Ugh! He knew why she was flustered. He was teasing her.
She held up the empty cup and stepped past him.
Another chuckle followed her into the concourse, but she tuned him out and retrieved the water. On the return trip, she felt his focus on her again but refused to let him bait her into looking his way and hurried up the stairs. As she neared her row, the man seated to her left got up and moved into the aisle, leaving his backpack behind.
“Your pack,” she called out and pointed at it, but he didn’t look up.
She stepped in front of him to get his attention.
His head jerked up, his steely-gray eyes dark with anger meeting hers. He shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pocket, then blinked in surprise.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said, trying not to wilt under his continued study. “But you left your backpack.”
His eyes lingered for long, tense moments before he brushed by her and jogged down the stairs.
“So much for trying to be a good citizen,” she mumbled and stepped past Opa. “Did you see that guy who just left?”
Opa shook his head, but kept his attention on the game. “He blocked my view for a few seconds, but I didn’t actually look at him. Why?”
“He left his backpack. When I told him about it, he got mad.”
“Odd,” Opa said absently, his focus still pinned on the field.
Krista handed the water to Opa and looked at the pack a few seats away. That unsettled feeling returned.
Stop it, Krista. What did she think was in the pack, a bomb?
Ha! The guy was rude, maybe a bit creepy, but that didn’t make him some lunatic leaving a bomb behind. He’d likely had too much to drink, needed to use the restroom and would be right back. That’s why he didn’t take her concern seriously.
She ignored the fact that there weren’t any empty cups by his seat and forced her attention on to the game. Not that she knew anything about football, as Opa called it, other than it involved a ball with two nets and Opa loved it. She tried to get into the game, but the backpack kept nagging at her, and she continued to check her watch. The man had been gone for fifteen minutes. Far too long for a trip to the bathroom or snack bar when long lines weren’t likely due to tonight’s low attendance.
Her gaze slid back to the pack.
Should she check it out? With all the craziness going on in the world today, could she afford not to check it out?
She glanced down the stairs to confirm the guy wasn’t returning, then slid over to the pack. Once a vivid blue, it was now worn and dingy gray. She checked for the owner one last time, then pulled the zipper and spread it open.
A cell phone lay on a stack of red blocks. Next to it, large neon-green numbers on a timer counted down from twenty-seven minutes fifty seconds. It was strapped to the bricks resembling modeling clay with wires leading to the stack.
Timer. Bricks. Wires.
“Bo—” she started to shout, then realized what yelling “bomb” would do to nearby spectators.
A bomb! It’s really a bomb. What should she do?
She and Opa didn’t have cell phones, so she couldn’t call 911. So then what?
Think, Krista, think.
The numerals kept flashing their countdown—taunting her.
Twenty-five minutes ten seconds. Nine. Eight.
Panic crawled up her spine.
No, no, no!
Why had she waited so long to look? How should she handle this?
Deputy Cash Dixon, the name barreled into her brain. She had to alert him.
She started to rise. Caught sight of Opa. In his fragile state, if she took him with her, it would take a long time to climb down the stairs. Precious minutes would be wasted before the bomb squad could be notified. She had no choice. She’d have to leave him sitting in his seat.
Here. Near a bomb.
She couldn’t do that to her Opa.
You have to or all of these people could die. Go! Now!
She’d bring the deputy up here, leave this situation in his hands and guide Opa to the exit. She had enough time. If she hurried.
Her stomach threatening to revolt, she gently closed the flaps on the pack from prying eyes and jumped to
her feet.
“I’ll be right back, Opa.” She forced the words over a lump in her throat.
“Okay.” He didn’t look up.
“I love you.” She hoped it wouldn’t be the last time she ever said these words to him.
His perceptive gaze met hers. “What’s wrong, Liebchen?”
“Nothing.” She offered him a wobbly smile, then jogged down the stairs to discover Cash Dixon now leaned against the restaurant wall, that casual pose still in place. Her confidence in him evaporated.
Could he handle this? This man who seemed to excel in flirting? Was he just a pretty face, or was he cool and calm under pressure? Steady? Trustworthy?
Because he needed to be. Desperately needed to be, if he was going to stop this bomb from exploding and bringing the building down around them.
Copyright © 2015 by Susan Sleeman
ISBN-13: 9781460381557
Trail of Evidence
Copyright © 2015 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Lynette Eason for her contribution to the Capitol K-9 Unit miniseries
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WITHOUT A TRACE
As a skip tracer in training, Joslyn Dimalanta knows she has the skills to track down her missing friend. As long as her friend’s startlingly handsome brother, Clay Ashton, doesn’t distract her. But then his sister’s house detonates—almost killing Clay and Joslyn. Now they realize the harsh reality: they must either find the person after Clay’s sister, or face deadly consequences. And the closer they get to exposing the source of the crimes, the more explosive surprises they discover. With every obstacle they overcome, Joslyn finds herself relying on Clay more and more. Still, the peril they face scares her less than the idea of trusting Clay with her wounded heart.
Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Trail of EvidenceGone MissingLethal Exposure Page 18
