God Bless,
Lynette
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No One to Trust
by Melody Carlson
ONE
Jon Wilson hoped to see her again today—the runner who’d caught his eye on the beach almost a week ago. The woman he’d been looking for every day ever since. But by the time he and his dog, Ralph, made it to that section of beach, it was late in the afternoon and the fog was rolling in. Not likely she’d be out for a run now. Why hadn’t he stopped painting a couple of hours ago?
Ready to turn back, Jon wanted to kick himself for not getting her name when he’d had the chance. Instead, he’d tried to appear like the “responsible pet owner” by scolding Ralph for chasing after her. Even though she’d seemed to enjoy the silly dog romping alongside her. And Ralph, fully enamored with the pretty blonde with the sunny smile and swinging ponytail, had acted as if he were her new best friend. Too bad Jon hadn’t taken Ralph’s “hint” and befriended her himself. Now it was probably too late. At least for today. Jon glanced down at his ensemble and chuckled. Perhaps it was for the best. In his hurry to get down here, he still had on his old paint-smeared flannel shirt over a faded T-shirt and raggedy cargo pants, also paint-smeared. Even his shaggy hair was overdue for a haircut. Not exactly dressed to impress.
As he called Ralph to go home, a siren sounded. The loud shrill blast was cut short, as if in warning, but it seemed to originate in the small parking area where the beach road ended at the foot of the dunes. The same place he’d suspected the runner might’ve parked her car when she’d come to run the other day. And the same reason he’d been walking down this far once or twice a day. Hoping to “casually” meet her again. With Ralph’s help, of course.
Curious as to what was up, Jon was just considering investigating when Ralph decided to take action. Giving out a sharp bark, he took off, racing toward the dunes that bordered the road. Jon thought about calling him back but, well aware of how his mother’s stubborn terrier took orders, he knew it was pointless. Besides, it might be important to know what was going on. His parents, who visited their beach cabin fairly regularly, had mentioned various rumors of criminal activity in these parts. Both retired attorneys, they had their different theories about what was actually going on. His dad seemed to think it was nothing, but his mom was suspiciously wary. Maybe Jon would discover a new piece of the puzzle for them. Besides, he needed to get Ralph.
*
Leah Hampton felt her stomach knot as she watched the uniformed officer from her rearview mirror. His plump face appeared flushed and slightly irritated in the late-afternoon sun. Glancing around the deserted dune area, as if worried someone else was around, he adjusted his dark glasses and sauntered up to her old Subaru. She’d noticed the unmarked car several miles back but hadn’t been concerned. She hadn’t been speeding on this isolated stretch of beach road—her car’s worn shocks couldn’t take it.
A wave of fresh anxiety swept over Leah as she reached for her wallet, ready to fish out her driver’s license and insurance card. She hoped her car’s registration hadn’t expired or that a taillight hadn’t burnt out. Those infractions could result in fines—expenses she couldn’t afford right now. She remembered the last time she’d been pulled over several years ago and how she’d talked her way out of a ticket. But she’d been dressed to the nines that night. Not so today.
Getting out of her car, she adjusted her running tank and smoothed her running shorts, forcing an optimistic smile. “Hello,” she said in a friendly tone. “I was just heading out for a beach run. Is something wrong, Officer?”
“Is that your car?”
“Yep.” She nodded at her old beater. “And I know I wasn’t speeding.”
“No….” He slowly glanced over his shoulder again. What was he looking for? “You weren’t speeding.”
“So what’s up?” She looked around, too. “Is there some kind of danger out here? I mean I do get a little concerned about jogging alone this time of day, especially down here, where there’s no phone connectivity. But I love this part of the beach, and I’m training for the Portland marathon and it’s hard to get my running time in.” She smiled again, deciding to try the sympathy card as she rambled on. “You see, I work part time at The Willows and—”
“You’ll need to come with me,” he said abruptly.
“Come with you?” She stared into the lenses of his dark sunglasses, trying to see the eyes behind them, but only the double image of her own puzzled face reflected back at her. “Why?”
“Because I have a warrant for your arrest.”
“But I haven’t done anything—I haven’t broken any laws.”
“Turn around.”
“But you haven’t even checked my ID. You don’t know who I am.” She held up her wallet, but before she could remove her driver’s license, he smacked her hand, sending the wallet spilling to the ground.
“Doesn’t matter who you are,” he growled, “not where you’re going.”
A silent alarm went off inside her. Something was seriously wrong here. This cop—if he was really a cop—was dangerous.
“I, uh, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” she said in a shaky voice, slowly stepping away from him, hoping to jump into her car and attempt a getaway or at least lean into her horn to get attention from a passerby. Not that there were any. Instead she bumped into the car door, slamming it shut with a loud bang.
In the same instant, he lunged toward her, grabbing her bare upper arm in a viselike grip. “I suggest you come quietly, blondie.”
“But I haven’t done anything to—”
“Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” He was so close she could feel his hot breath in her face. His pudgy lips curled slightly, sending a wave of nausea through her.
“You’ve got the wrong—”
“Okay!” He flipped her around to face her car with one arm twisted painfully behind her back. “You wanna do this the hard way. Fine by me.” He chuckled in a creepy way. “Just you wait and see, blondie.” He pinned her tightly against her car. As he fumbled with his handcuffs, short puffs of hot breath went down the back of her neck.
Her mind racing, Leah knew she was in trouble. Serious trouble. This guy was obviously not a cop. Or if he was a cop, he was a crooked one!
“Let me go!” she screamed at him, hoping to get the attention of a passerby. Although her hope of there being another human in the vicinity was fast fading. “You don’t even know who I am. And I tell you, I’m innocent!” He continued to ignore her and, roughly pressing the side of her face into the gritty roof of her car, he attempted to latch a cuff around her flailing wrist.
“Shut up and stop squirming!” he growled into her ear, unable to get control of her writhing hands.
“I didn’t do anything!” she screamed. “You’ve got the wrong person—just let me explain! I’m innocent! You’ve made a mis—”
Her words were cut off by a barking dog. She tried to turn to see, but the cop, still wrestling with the handcuffs, kept her pinned so tightly that she felt her ribs were about to crack. The cop cursed at the dog, telling him to “beat it or else!” but the dog kept on barking—almost as if it knew she was in trouble, and was trying to help.
*
Jon knew something was amiss as soon as he came over the ridge of the dunes. The way the unmarked car had boxed in the old Subaru, the way the uniformed cop had the girl pinned too roughly against her car. The creep factor was high. But when Jon glimpsed the woman’s profile, his hackles went up. It was the girl from the other day. Only now her expression was seriously frightened and she was yelling out that she was innocent. “You’re arresting me without just cause,” she shouted. “You’re not a real cop.”
“What’s going on here?” Jon called out over Ralph’s noisy barking.
The cop turned to Jon with a surprised expression.
“Can I be of help?” Jon continued ambling down the dune, trying to act natural.
“Yeah! Get that stupid mutt outta here!” the cop yelled. “Now!”
Jon called to Ralph as he slowly moved closer to the unsettling scene. Naturally the dog did not respond. Jon hadn’t expected him to.
“Call off your dog—right now!” the cop yelled angrily. “Or else!”
“Back off, Ralph!” Jon commanded and, to his amazement, the little terrier quieted some.
“And you stay right there!” the cop told Jon. “I mean it!”
“Fine.” Jon stopped in his tracks, reminding himself to go easy. Was this guy an imposter like the woman suggested? As he tried to gauge the situation, he wished he hadn’t left his cell phone behind. Even without connectivity, he could be gathering valuable video.
“What’s the problem, Officer?” Jon kept his voice calm and respectful.
“Police business. Now get your mutt and yourself outta here!” he yelled.
Of course, his loud voice set Ralph to barking all over again. Appreciating this distraction, Jon moved closer to the scene. “Don’t worry.” He tried to sound casual. “His bark is worse than his bite. Well, actually he’s never bitten anyone.”
“Stay right where you are!” The cop stepped away from the girl, still holding tightly to her arm, but now she was able to stand up straight. She looked at Jon with desperate brown eyes but didn’t say a word.
“Just trying to get my dog.” Jon held up his hands, forcing an uneasy smile. “Like you said to.”
“Freeze, right there!” the cop shouted, setting Ralph to barking louder. “And control your dog or I will.”
Jon wanted to question how he was supposed to control Ralph if the cop wouldn’t let him move. Instead, he took a different approach. “So what’s going on here?” he asked in a friendly tone, keeping his eyes on the helpless girl who didn’t look as if she could hurt a fly.
“None of your—”
“He says there’s a warrant on me,” the girl shouted, “but I’ve never done anything illegal—ever! And he won’t even check my ID—and he hasn’t read my Miranda rights—he’s a fake and—”
“Shut up!” The cop glanced over his shoulder at her, then back at Jon. He seemed to be rattled as he turned to fully face Jon. “I told you to get that stupid mutt outta here!”
“I would have to move to get the dog,” Jon explained. “You told me to freeze.”
Suddenly the cop released his hold on the girl and reached for his holster, removing his revolver. “Now! I mean it—or else!”
“Come here, Ralph,” Jon said with authority. His tail between his legs, Ralph slowly approached, and Jon scooped him up. The little dog’s body was tense, as if on high alert, as if something were still very wrong.
“Now get outta here!” The cop brandished his weapon.
“Unarmed here,” Jon held up one hand, holding Ralph with the other.
The cop cursed, and pointed the weapon at him.
Before he could stop him, Ralph sprang from Jon’s arms and returned to barking. The frightened woman, free from the cop’s grasp now, watched Jon with a tear-streaked face. He knew he needed to do something—but what? His training and experience as an attorney suggested he should attempt to talk him down.
“I can see something is wrong,” Jon suggested in a calm but firm tone, “but maybe we can discuss this in a civilized manner.” He considered informing the cop that he was an attorney. He could express interest in this woman’s rights, offer to be her legal representation. “I’d like to suggest—”
“I already told you what to do—get your stupid mutt and get outta here!” Despite his angry tone, the cop looked uncertain. He was clearly caught off guard by this uncomfortable triangle—a woman behind him, Jon about thirty feet in the opposite direction and a little dog barking several feet away.
“I warned you!” The cop aimed his gun at Ralph.
“Stop!” Jon lunged for the dog as a loud bang sliced the air. Ralph let out a yelp, collapsing to the ground. The woman screamed, and Jon, frozen in place, felt his adrenaline boiling. His eyes fixed on the cop, he weighed the situation. This cop, if he was one, was definitely crooked. But he was also armed. And dangerous.
The cop looked flustered and agitated—as if trying to make up his mind. Probably deciding which one of them to shoot next. In that same split second, Jon knew without a doubt that this cop was either an imposter or dirty. He looked at the woman and made his decision. “Run!” he yelled at her.
As the cop turned to the girl, Jon sprang at him. Making a huge leap, he blindsided the distracted man. Although the cop was much stouter, Jon’s momentum knocked him flat onto the graveled road, making the revolver fly from his hand.
But the woman was still standing there!
“Run for your life!” Jon yelled at her. He could tell he’d knocked the wind out of the startled cop, but every second was precious. “Run!” he shouted. But instead of fleeing, she sprinted straight toward them and snatched up Ralph. Then she turned and, like a shot, she flew up the side of the dune.
Copyright © 2016 by Carlson Mgmt. Co., Inc.
ISBN-13: 9781488008290
Protecting Her Daughter
Copyright © 2016 by Lynette Eason
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Protecting Her Daughter (Wrangler's Corner) Page 18
