by Dana Mentink
Jace scowled. What kind of lowlife threatened women? Sarah Swanson was about as harmless as you could get. And as for Melanie… He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the young woman. Her face was pale, and her lips seemed bloodless. The dark curls framing her face emphasized the pallor. The haunted look in her velvet brown eyes tore at him. Even knowing her past as he did, Jace disliked seeing her slender frame tremble with fear.
He hated himself for feeling drawn to her. He thought he had banished the attraction four years ago. A flare of resentment surged as he looked at the young woman kneeling on the floor. Hadn’t he learned his lesson? He had let affection cloud his judgment once before, with disastrous results. Never again.
Melanie raised her head. Her eyes met his. His hair stood on end as electricity zapped between them. Then, as if a light had been switched off, Melanie’s eyes became guarded. He could see her exercising every bit of control she had to master her fear and appear calm. She was brave. He’d give her that. He would have expected tears or outright panic. He wasn’t about to complain, though. Having a hysterical woman on his hands would only make a bad situation worse.
To distract himself, he turned his attention to Sarah Swanson. She was still unconscious, but the swelling around her mouth and eyes was noticeably diminished. He could see that her chest was moving now as she breathed, a sure sign that she was improved.
Jace cleared his throat. “I need to look around outside. Stay by your aunt. Yell if you see any changes.”
“Should I clean up the glass? So the paramedics don’t step in it?”
“Leave it. I called for another cruiser. We need to process the scene first. I’ll make sure it’s cleaned up afterward.”
Zipping his coat, he strode toward the door, noticing they had left it wide-open in the excitement. He spent the next ten minutes searching for evidence. Other than footprints that led off into the woods, he found nothing. A horn honked. He lifted a hand in greeting as another cruiser pulled in, followed by the paramedics. A third cruiser pulled in and parked in the yard. Jace raised his eyebrows. A third cruiser was unusual, to say the least.
He led the paramedics into the house and set the two officers about evaluating the scene. One of the officers approached Melanie. Jace stiffened. It was natural to question her, but the look of attraction on the officer’s face was unsettling. They were cops. It was their duty to remain focused. Letting an ex-con, no matter how pretty, distract them was not going to happen. Jace made his voice stern.
“Olsen, go help Jacobs. I’ll want your report ASAP.”
“Yes, sir.” The young policeman cast one last regretful glance at Melanie and returned outside.
“On three…” The paramedics lifted Sarah Swanson onto a stretcher and loaded her into the ambulance.
*
Mel looked around the room, feeling lost. Her aunt was on her way to the hospital, and no one would talk to her or tell her what she should do. It was disconcerting enough being out of jail, away from the routines that had, for better or for worse, been her life for the past four years. She’d been told that she’d have to adjust to life on the “outside,” but no one had explained how to deal with something like this. How was she going to get to the hospital? Was she supposed to go in the ambulance? Would someone drive her? Should she get a taxi? Unthinkingly, her eyes sought out the lieutenant. He might not like her, but he was the only steadying presence in the house.
Melanie glanced at him again. He had just flipped his phone shut and was talking with the officers as the ambulance roared to life and headed back to town toward the hospital. Well, that answered one question. Since no one was paying attention to her, Melanie made her way to her old bedroom.
Melanie stood in the doorway, breathing deeply. The room was the same as it had been nine years ago when she moved out. The blue-and-lavender color scheme, the ruffled curtains. Even the Bible her aunt had given her on her seventeenth birthday was there, sitting on the little end table beside the bed. Waiting for her. Mel walked over and picked the Bible up. Tears clogged her throat.
She had sneered at that Bible when she had received it, she remembered now with pain. What would she need that for? she had scoffed. Her aunt had merely smiled sadly.
“Someday, Melly,” Aunt Sarah had replied softly, “someday you’ll need a friend. Someone strong to carry you. This is where you’ll find Him.”
Her younger self had rolled her eyes at her aunt’s “preaching.” Thinking about it now, Mel was pretty sure she had never opened it. She didn’t even know why she had kept it. It wasn’t that she’d wanted to protect her aunt’s feelings. If that had been the case, she wouldn’t have walked out the moment she graduated from high school nine years ago.
But she had never gotten rid of it. And when she moved out, her aunt had left it here as if she had known that someday her wayward niece would come back for it. Although neither of them could ever have guessed that it would take a prison sentence to bring Mel to God.
Sitting on the bed, she opened the Bible to the book of Psalms. She read slowly, until she felt peace seep into her soul. Feeling calm again, she closed the Bible and stood. She startled when she saw Lieutenant Tucker standing in the doorway. He watched her, his brow furrowed and the corners of his lips pulled down.
She walked over to him and waited.
He stared back for several seconds. Then he straightened and nodded.
“Right,” he said briskly. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
Mel hesitated. She didn’t relish the idea of remaining in his presence any longer than she needed to. He had made his disdain known. He was a man who viewed her as a criminal, and always would. Even if she could find a way to prove her innocence, would he believe it? Or was he too hardened against her?
Lieutenant Tucker frowned at her hesitation. “Come on, Melanie. I really don’t have all day.”
Melanie shivered at the chill in Lieutenant Tucker’s deep voice. His contempt for her was almost tangible. The last thing she wanted to do was get back into the cruiser with him. She needed to go to Aunt Sarah, though, so she followed him to the car.
As he backed down the driveway, she caught one last glance of the house. A shudder ran through her as the sunlight glinted off the broken window. She had been released from the horrors of prison only to walk into a new nightmare.
Copyright © 2015 by Dana Roae.
ISBN-13: 9781460380031
Royal Rescue
Copyright © 2015 by Tammy Johnson
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DEADLY REUNION
CIA agent Shaun Carter is on the trail of an international crime ring, and the sudden appearance of a woman from his past could jeopardize his mission. Missing persons investigator Lexie Reilly’s search for a missing teen has put her in the criminals’ crosshairs. Joining forces to take down this ring is their only chance of survival. Shaun vows to keep the beautiful investigator out of
harm’s way and help her find the lost girl. But when their ferry becomes icebound, they are trapped at sea with killers who will stop at nothing to keep them from discovering their secrets.
Lexie peeked over Shaun’s shoulder to see an empty room.
There were few places to hide in these small cabins, but Lexie waited in the doorway as Shaun checked the bathroom and closet.
“It is safe? Can I come in?” Whether she wanted to come in was another question entirely. Shaun hadn’t told her the whole truth about himself, that much had become clear. But could she blame him? It wasn’t as though she’d asked the right questions. Or any questions at all.
“All clear,” he called. The sound of a sliding shower curtain was followed by his reappearance. “You’d better check if anything was taken, though. You’re sure you locked the door when you left the room?”
Lexie’s wide eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, bristling at the implication. “Of course I did. You were standing right next to me and watched me do it.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense that someone would break into your room and not touch anything—”
Lexie crossed the room as he spoke. She lifted her bags off the bed—and screamed.
Michelle Karl is an unabashed bibliophile and romantic suspense author. She lives in Canada with her husband and an assortment of critters, including a codependent cat, an albino rabbit and an opinionated parrot. When she’s not reading and consuming copious amounts of coffee, she writes the stories she’d like to find in her “to be read” pile. She also loves animals, world music and eating the last piece of cheesecake.
Books by Michelle Karl
Love Inspired Suspense
Fatal Freeze
Fatal Freeze
By Michelle Karl
And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.
—Romans 8:28
To Amy and Alley
Thanks for brainstorming with me at lunch that one time
And for all the pantry snacks
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EPILOGUE
DEAR READER
EXCERPT
ONE
Lexie Reilly gave her car a final once-over, satisfied that she hadn’t forgotten anything for the sixteen-hour overnight ferry crossing to Newfoundland. She slung her travel bag and purse over her shoulder and pressed the car remote’s lock button twice. The click-beep of the lock and alarm mechanism echoed back at her, and she noted with surprise that she stood alone on the car deck. Everyone else had already cleared out, leaving her amidst a sea of parked vehicles. The radio program she’d been listening to must have been more engaging than she’d realized.
Lexie frowned, feeling slightly uneasy. Aside from the rumble of the ship, it felt too quiet. No, too still. Trust your instincts, she thought. Where were the deck attendees? If she was being honest with herself, her instincts were telling her to get up to the passenger decks, find a cup of hot tea and get back to examining her file on Maria, the missing young woman she’d been searching for these past few months. She had clues to piece together before they docked in Argentia, Newfoundland’s historic port town and former United States military base.
Despite the ferry’s protection against the early March air, Lexie shivered, looking forward to the warm lounge above. Her footsteps clanged as she walked alongside the cars, weaving through them to get to the stairs. As she crossed between a tall blue van and an oversize SUV, arms circled around her neck and waist, pinning her from behind.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” a scratchy, masculine voice growled.
Lexie tried to scream, but the pressure on her neck made it hard to breathe. She gasped for air and lifted her boot to stamp on his foot. He squeezed tighter, and tears streamed down Lexie’s face as sparks flew in her vision. Every movement she made only increased the pressure on her throat. In moments, she would pass out, or worse. As Lexie’s vision turned blurry, she thought she heard something—like shouting, from far away. Pounding footsteps came toward her and, as quickly as she’d been grabbed, her attacker released his grip, shoving her forward.
Lexie tumbled to the floor, gasping for air.
Pain shot through her limbs with each breath, and she could still feel where the man’s arm had pressed against her windpipe.
The footsteps stopped as they came close, and she sensed a presence beside her. A gentle touch on her shoulder sent waves of relief flooding through the pain. “Steady,” said a calm male voice. “Are you all right? Do you need medical attention?”
Did she? Lexie squinted through the haze in her vision. She’d feel a whole lot better if someone had taken off after the attacker. He might still be caught, but this man in front of her would have to get moving.
“Go,” she tried to croak, but it sounded more like a raspy gasp than an intelligible word.
“Let’s get you to the upper deck,” he said. An arm snaked around her back to rest under her shoulders. She tried to push his arm away and gesture in the general direction of her attacker’s escape, but either her signaling skills needed some serious work, or this man was less motivated than he should have been to catch a criminal.
Lexie leaned against the nearest tire and squeezed her eyes shut. Her head and heart pounded. Had the attacker truly known who she was, and why she’d boarded the ferry? The warning had been unspecific, and he could have mistaken her for someone else—the lighting in the car deck made the whole area appear gray and muddled.
If anything, the attacker’s threat only made her more determined to get to Newfoundland. Until now, she’d had no possible evidence that Maria’s disappearance was anything more than another case of “runaway teenager.” Maria’s parents were convinced their daughter had skipped town out of anger after they’d forbidden her to spend time with a boy she’d been sweet on—but unlike most of Lexie’s clients, Lexie had actually met Maria in person before. Lexie occasionally volunteered to drive the local youth group to their community events, and Maria had always come across as one of the most level-headed young adults among the group. On the other hand, she’d spent the drive to the ferry dock questioning how well she’d known the girl after all. Lexie hadn’t even realized Maria was seeing anyone. Not that they’d had any deep conversations about life, but the whole situation hit far too close to home. For Maria’s family’s sake, Lexie would figure this out, no matter how long it took.
As for the man crouched in front of her, asking over and over if she needed medical attention…she could barely hear her own thoughts over his repeated questioning. When she finally shook her head in response, he took her left hand and turned it over, uncurling her fingers.
“Your palm is bleeding,” he said. He traced gentle fingers around the scraped and dirtied base of her palm. “I’m going to call for medical assistance. The emergency phone is five feet away from us on the wall by the stairs. I’ll be able to see you. You’re safe.”
I know I’m safe, and it’s not because of you. “Fine,” she rasped. The effort brought on a fit of coughing, which did nothing to ease the throb in her throat. It was ridiculous, sitting here. She had serious work to do, and only sixteen hours to do it in. “But I don’t need a doctor. Just need to get to the upper deck.”
The man huffed in frustration and stood. Moments later, Lexie heard him phoning for medical assistance. To her surprise
, he didn’t explain on the phone why she needed help, but told them to bring a first aid kit and a few extra, oddly specific, supplies. She didn’t need an ophthalmoscope or penlight or whatever—a bit of iodine and a small bandage and she’d be fine.
Lexie braced against the car at her back and pushed upward, placing her hands on the hood for a few moments to catch her balance. Using one hand on the car for support, she reached to pick up her purse and travel bag from where they’d fallen.
“A medical team will be here in a minute,” the man said, hanging up the phone and coming toward her. “Sit back down. They’ll check to make sure no serious damage was done to your throat, since—”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Lexie managed to lift her head to make eye contact with the man who’d come to her rescue. Her heart leaped into her throat as every muscle in her shoulders tensed. The man wore a red plaid shirt, a puffy black winter vest, jeans and a red knit toque. He looked like a lumberjack—or someone trying really hard to look like a lumberjack. Except that she knew him, or she had, eight years ago, and he definitely hadn’t been lumberjack material.
In fact, the man in front of her was her own missing sister’s former beau, looking as gorgeous as he did the day he broke Nikki’s heart and sent her into a downward spiral…a spiral that led to Nikki’s kidnapping almost eight years ago, only months after they’d met.
What were the chances she’d end up here and now, being rescued by him?
*
Shaun Carver blinked in surprise at the piercing hazel eyes that glared at him in fury. Eight years separated the last time they’d met, and she looked good.
