by DiAnn Mills
“I’ll kill all of you.” Lucas cursed like she’d heard so many times before. “You won’t lock me up again. I have friends.”
Bethany ignored him.
The killings were over.
Finally. Scorpion lay dead with a bullet in her chest, and Lucas wore cuffs. He wouldn’t hurt one more person.
Bethany rushed to Papá’s side. Blood flowed from his outer right thigh, while he lay still and ashen. One of the team members radioed that Lucas was in custody, and requested an ambulance.
“Papá, help is on the way.” She took his hand, squeezing it lightly.
He nodded and barely opened his eyes. “We meet like this too often.”
“I’m sorry. Better it were me.”
Papá held tightly to her hand. “How does a blind man say he’s been wrong? I thought you were lost, but you were never lost to God.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too, mi hija dulce.”
“We’ll see Lucas through this,” she said and kissed his cheek. “We’re family.”
A hand touched her shoulder, and she sensed Thatcher behind her. “Does my wounded lion have my back?”
“Always.”
She heard more than a partner’s commitment. Maybe now they could talk. Really talk. If God could bring her back to her father, then He could work out her and Thatcher’s feelings. “Thanks. Papá, this is Special Agent Thatcher Graves, my partner.”
Papá attempted a smile. “My daughter’s bird is noisy.”
Her mind had tuned out Jasper. “I can hush him, but I’ll have to leave you for a moment.”
Thatcher patted her shoulder. “Go ahead.”
She opened Jasper’s cage, soothing him with gentle words. He perched on her shoulder and she hurried back to Papá. How much of a little girl lived inside her. “I want you to meet someone else.”
He chuckled. “Better than a watchdog.”
The diversion would help until the ambulance arrived. Jasper rubbed against her neck with soft coos. He moved to her cheek.
“It’s okay, little man,” she whispered. “We’re okay.”
“I’m jealous,” Thatcher said.
“No need to be.” She wanted more with him. So much more.
Sirens grew closer. “When I get fixed up, you bring my daughter to dinner.”
“I will,” Thatcher said. “I promise. I hear you have a collection of Spanish guitars.”
“Sí. I play too.”
“Can I bring mine?”
“My daughter chose a good partner.”
She swallowed the tears threatening to expose her facade. Maybe it was okay. Maybe it was okay to accept that life wasn’t happily ever after but love was unconditional.
EPILOGUE
FEBRUARY
Bethany joined Thatcher outside of the physical therapy room. “What’s the verdict?” she said.
“Done. I’m good as new, except for a few PT exercises to do at home.”
“You were good as new when you were cleared psychologically for active duty.”
“And now you’re cleared too.” He took her hand, and they walked to the door and outside into the crisp air.
She’d passed her psychological eval last month. Waiting on the disciplinary action from the Office of Professional Responsibility for her insubordination had taken over six weeks. But due to the mitigating circumstances, she’d been cleared. The OPR insisted upon a review in six months and then in a year, but she’d passed the debriefing. “We’ve come a long way, partner.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m a better man because of you.”
His words brought a lump to her throat. “I don’t know what to say, except I feel the same way about you.”
“We agree. I need to record those words.”
“It’s not the first time.”
“You’re right. Do you mind sitting on the bench in the park across the street?”
“Sure. It’s a beautiful day.”
They hurried across the street and to a bench beside a huge fountain. The sun shimmered off the water, and the trickling sound offered a sense of tranquility.
“I’ve been thinking about the last few months,” he said. “The things we learned while working Scorpion. Your logic reined in my out-of-the-box methods of investigation, and then the other way around. I suspected Eldon Hoveland and Ansel Spree were forced into crime by Margo until they refused and she killed them, but it helped to have Lucas confirm it.”
Her brother would spend the rest of his life in prison, but there he might be open to God. It was a miracle Lucas agreed to medication. But once he did, he became more rational and confessed to everything, even in locating Deal, allowing the FBI to press additional charges against Margo’s brothers Groundhog and Deal. The things Lucas had revealed to their family and law enforcement shoved the Scorpion puzzle pieces into place.
Margo’d had no idea Bethany was in the FBI. She’d met Lucas at a bar and told him of her desire to avenge her father’s death and how her brothers would help. When he told of his hatred for his FBI sister, she offered to handle it for him. While he was in prison, they put the crimes together, although Margo carried out all the executions. Lucas and Margo scheduled the killings when they believed Bethany was at home. Somehow Margo persuaded Dorian to get involved. Even killed Tyler to keep her sister in line. Margo texted Bethany, wrote the derogatory posts, at first pretending to sound like Lucas. So he later took the credit. She had driven the car that nearly hit Bethany. Then her own mental disorder took over. Lucas didn’t know why Margo enlisted her brothers’ help, perhaps to set up a family business again or possibly to pin the murders on them.
“Although Dorian’s in prison, I hope someone sees that she needs medication,” Bethany said.
“What ranks at the top is we helped stop a serial killer and brought you closer to your family.”
“And not in a way I would have ever imagined. I’m still amazed.” She sighed, a bittersweet reminder of God’s provision. “When I consider how long I’d prayed for him and our family, I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Bethany, God was with you the whole time.”
“If only my parents could have seen Lucas’s need to be on the medication long before his crimes escalated. It’s like my diabetes. I need to watch my diet, and if the doctor recommends a pill, then I’ll take it so I can survive and function.”
“Speaking of functioning, I’m having problems this morning keeping my head in line with conversation.”
“What’s wrong?”
He pulled a rectangular gold box from his jacket pocket. “This is for you.”
“How sweet. Are we celebrating our agent status?”
He frowned. “Not exactly.”
She lifted the lid and revealed a solid gold bracelet. A half-inch band gave it a rich feel. “This is beautiful.” She set it in her lap and hugged him. “You were extravagant, but I don’t care because I love it.”
“There’s an inscription.”
She curiously looked inside the band. Partners for Life.
She glanced at him while countless emotions soared around her heart.
“What do you think?” he said. “I was going to bring my guitar and sing for you, but that seemed more about me than you.”
Her heart leaped like a frightened deer. “SSA Preston said we could continue together as long as we followed protocol.”
“I don’t mean for the FBI. I mean you and me for a lifetime. I love you, Bethany.”
She trembled. “Thatcher, what are you saying?”
He pulled another gold box from his jacket, a square one. “I wanted to do this over dinner, but I can’t wait.” He grinned like a schoolboy. “I have your father’s permission to marry his daughter. I just need your yes.”
Her eyes widened. “Uh . . . when did this happen?”
“Us or your dad?” His eyes sparkled.
She breathed in deeply, her attention first on him and then on the diamond glittering in
the morning sun. “I know us. Felt it within a week of working with you. But Papá? Was it when you two were playing guitars last weekend?”
“Nope. Remember when he and I went to see Lucas? I asked him then.”
“What did he say?”
Thatcher laughed. “Said I was his favorite gringo, his león herido.”
“Wounded lion. But now you’re my león rugiente—” she kissed his cheek—“my roaring lion.”
“Bethany Marie Sanchez, will you marry me? I need you in my life for as long as I walk this earth. You’re my strength. You make me complete.”
Her mind swept back to the moment they met, her misgivings about the relationship, her mistakes, their victories, how he helped her through the trauma with Lucas, and how the two of them now visited Lucas together. Most importantly the love that filled her with joy, a gift from God. “All those things you just said are how I feel about you. I love you, Thatcher, and yes, I’ll marry you.”
He took the box and slipped the ring over her finger. “My promise to love you. We’ll work through the problems of life together. Thank you for showing me Jesus in action.”
She hadn’t viewed herself in such a light. In fact quite the opposite. She raised her head to kiss him, a kiss of longing and hope for tomorrow.
“Where to from here?” he said after their kiss. “I want to tell the world, but maybe we should wait until after Laurel and Daniel’s wedding tomorrow night. I don’t want to interfere in their special day.”
“We could make our official announcement after they leave for their honeymoon. Are you sure I’m the woman for you? We clash far too often.”
“Makes life interesting.” He put his arm around her shoulder, and she laid her head against him.
“I never told you something,” she said.
“What?”
“Best day of your life? Other than my faith, meeting you. Favorite vacation place? Anywhere with you. What matters to me most? My faith and you.”
“I’ll hold you to those answers.” He squeezed her.
“What are you not telling me?” she said. “I can read you.”
He chuckled. “Preston would like for us to consider working as a team undercover.”
She covered her mouth and giggled. “In what way?”
“Let’s get married and then figure out what he means.”
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
DEAR READER,
Story takes me into my characters’ lives. Their desires, goals, problems, strengths, and flaws direct their actions. Some of their problems are difficult, especially those involving the dynamics of family. The characters of Deadlock are no exception.
Thatcher experienced a rough relationship with his father, and the man died before they were reconciled. Hard reality, and many of us wish we’d said and done things to those gone from this world.
Bethany grew up with doubts about her family’s views regarding her brother. She disagreed with his lawbreaking, and the result was devastating. Standing up for truth and justice can ostracize us from our families, but do we have a choice with God as our judge? Bethany loved her family, but she loved God more.
If the past haunts you with unforgiveness and lack of restitution, I suggest you face those challenges. You’ll find peace in the journey.
Blessings,
DiAnn
Expect an Adventure
DiAnn Mills
www.diannmills.com
www.facebook.com/diannmills
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
Bethany has more than one reason to be nervous on her first day working with Thatcher. Have you ever started something new with negative thoughts dogging you? How do you put aside those emotions? What could Bethany have done to dispel some of those negative feelings?
As new partners, Bethany and Thatcher struggle with trusting each other. How do they overcome this obstacle? How do you establish trust with others?
The first victim, Alicia, had an abusive husband, yet she wanted to remain in her marriage until her elder daughter finished college. What did you think of her decision? What counsel would you have given Alicia?
As much as we want perfect families, we are all imperfect. In what ways do you relate with any of the issues in the “nightmare families” from Deadlock?
Before the FBI, Thatcher wanted to spend his life performing music, but his father didn’t approve. Why does Thatcher say the FBI is where he belongs? Has someone in your life steered you in a certain direction? How would your life have been different if you’d taken another path?
Bethany’s self-worth is largely wrapped up in her identity as a good FBI agent. How does this play out in her life? With Lucas? What good and bad qualities does she display because of this?
As a new Christian, Thatcher has a hard time telling his mother about his faith, and when he does, she isn’t very supportive. Have you ever encountered a similar situation? How did you handle it?
When Thatcher realizes he’s worrying about Bethany, he remembers hearing that “worry meant a lack of trust in God.” Do you agree with that idea? Why or why not?
In chapter 50, Bethany wonders why it seems God refuses to intervene in critical situations. How would you answer that question?
A few years ago, Houston (and other major US cities) began regulating who could feed the homeless on public property. Some pastors in Florida have even been arrested for passing out food. Do rules like this make sense? Why or why not? How do you respond when you hear about laws like these? How do you feel about people who break those laws?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DIANN MILLS is a bestselling author who believes her readers should expect an adventure. She currently has more than fifty-five books published.
Her titles have appeared on the CBA and ECPA bestseller lists; won two Christy Awards; and been finalists for the RITA, Daphne Du Maurier, Inspirational Readers’ Choice, and Carol Award contests.
DiAnn is a founding board member of the American Christian Fiction Writers; the 2014 president of the Romance Writers of America’s Faith, Hope, & Love chapter; and a member of Inspirational Writers Alive, Advanced Writers and Speakers Association, and International Thriller Writers. She speaks to various groups and teaches writing workshops around the country.
She and her husband live in sunny Houston, Texas. Visit her website at www.diannmills.com and connect with her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/DiAnnMills), Twitter (@DiAnnMills), Pinterest (www.pinterest.com/DiAnnMills), and Goodreads (www.goodreads.com/DiAnnMills).
EXPECT AN ADVENTURE
CALL OF DUTY SERIES
FBI: HOUSTON SERIES
AVAILABLE NOW AT BOOKSTORES AND ONLINE.
Prologue
Special Agent Laurel Evertson had done everything required of her and more to gain Morton Wilmington’s affections. The gaudy diamond on her left hand proved it. She was prepared to end her undercover work tonight and walk away from this despicable role. All she had to do was find the flash drive that would send her fiancé to prison for life.
Morton reached into his closet and pulled out designer pants, a shirt, and a sports jacket. “Babe, I’m taking a shower. Thought we’d grab dinner downtown before the play.”
“Perfect. I’m ready. So looking forward to tonight.” She despised the lies and the counterfeit love.
“What are you going to do? Read here?”
“I am. A new romance novel.” She pointed to a window seat that offered a scenic view of his condo’s pool bathed in late-summer afternoon sun.
He chuckled, his deep-blue eyes smoldering. “As long as I’m your main man.”
“None other.” She kissed him lightly. “I’m turning on a little Andrea Bocelli to put me in the mood.”
“For what?”
“The book, the play, dinner, and us.”
“Another reason why I love you. Even if you did beat me last night in Monopoly.” He disappeared into the shower.
The moment the sound of water met her ears, she confirmed his location. Fo
ur times she’d found herself alone in his condo and attempted to access his safe, but each time she’d failed to hack into his computer, where he stored the safe combination that changed daily. Today she knew his password, and she quickly located the code on his laptop.
She placed the novel on the bed and removed a framed picture of a tank at Fort Knox from the wall to reveal the safe. Odd for a bedroom, but Morton had served four years in the Army. Probably the only thing he could be proud of. She rested the picture against the nightstand while the digital combination bannered across her mind. Squeezing her fingers into her palm to steady herself, she pressed in the code, hoping Andrea Bocelli’s tenor voice drowned out the low click. If she was wrong, the alarm would blare throughout the condo, bringing Morton out of the shower along with his bodyguard from the kitchen.
Big business had made him one of the most powerful men in the country, and certainly in Texas. Murder, money laundering, and organized crime were his best friends—legitimacy his enemy. But he’d made one mistake, exposing it all on a flash drive. He’d bragged about where it was hidden one night after drinking too much. It had taken her months to locate the safe and figure out how to gain access.
Was she any better than he, using another person for her own agenda? She shook off the thought and concentrated on her commitment to stop Wilmington from breaking the law.
She secured the flash drive and replaced the picture. Stealing her way to the bathroom door, she confirmed Morton was still showering. His laptop sat on his desk as though beckoning her to prove the FBI’s suspicions. She inserted the drive. Her heart pounded, ached.
“Babe, had an idea for our honeymoon,” he called from the bathroom.
“Great.” She breathed deeply to calm her scattered nerves. “Are you going to tell me?”
“Maybe.”
“You know I love surprises.” The details on the computer rose like rich cream: names, places, bank accounts. She ejected the device and slipped it into her shoe.
