Her Undercover Refuge

by Linda O. Johnston

  Nella pulled her key card from her pocket and unlocked the door. She had an urge to invite Scott in to look around and ensure everything was in order there. But she could do that herself.

  After all, she was a cop. A cop on alert.

  Still, when he insisted on preceding her inside, she felt a lot better. He locked the door behind them, then walked around, examining each room, even each closet and under the bed.

  “Looks okay,” he finally told her in the apartment’s living room, near the door. Though she’d been checking, too, she let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll head to my place now, but call me when you wake up in the morning.”

  So he could protect her again tomorrow, she figured.

  She appreciated it.

  She appreciated him.

  And so, after assuring him she’d call, she walked up to him and put her arms around him, planning to give him a brief good-night kiss.

  Only...it didn’t turn out so brief. The feel of his hard body against hers. The relief that she remained safe and alive, at least for now.

  * * *

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  Dear Reader,

  Her Undercover Refuge is the first in my Shelter of Secrets series, a spin-off from my K-9 Ranch Rescue series for Harlequin Romantic Suspense. It, too, takes place in the town of Chance, California. And it, too, involves—what else?—dogs. And also people.

  In it, the new Chance Animal Shelter provides a second chance for the many animals its management and staff save from their prior difficult lives. But even more critical, it also provides the potential of a new life for many of those staff members. The shelter’s undercover, primary purpose is to provide new identities and protective custody for people threatened with domestic abuse, kidnapping or worse.

  In Her Undercover Refuge, after a particularly stressful operation, former police officer Nella Bresdall also needs a new direction for her life. Helping vulnerable people and pets sounds ideal to her. And the fact that Scott Sherridan, the special shelter’s officer in charge, is handsome, sexy and dedicated to helping people and animals may be irrelevant, but it certainly doesn’t hurt her inclination to work there forever.

  Until she starts receiving threats...

  I hope you enjoy Her Undercover Refuge. Please come visit me at my website, lindaojohnston.com, and at my weekly blog, killerhobbies.blogspot.com. And, yes, I’m on Facebook and Writerspace, too.

  Linda O. Johnston

  HER UNDERCOVER REFUGE

  Linda O. Johnston

  Linda O. Johnston loves to write. While honing her writing skills, she worked in advertising and public relations, then became a lawyer...and enjoyed writing contracts. Linda’s first published fiction appeared in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and won a Robert L. Fish Memorial Award for Best First Mystery Short Story of the Year. Linda now spends most of her time creating memorable tales of paranormal romance, romantic suspense and mystery. Visit her on the web at www.lindaojohnston.com.

  Books by Linda O. Johnston

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense

  Shelter of Secrets

  Her Undercover Refuge

  The Coltons of Mustang Valley

  Colton First Responder

  Colton 911

  Colton 911: Caught in the Crossfire

  K-9 Ranch Rescue

  Second Chance Soldier

  Trained to Protect

  Undercover Soldier

  Covert Attraction

  Visit the Author Profile page at

  Harlequin.com for more titles.

  As always, many thanks to my wonderful editor, Allison Lyons, and my fantastic agent, Paige Wheeler.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Excerpt from Colton 911: Secret Defender by Marie Ferrarella

  Chapter 1

  Sitting in the chair she had chosen along the wall near the front door, Nella Bresdall looked around the otherwise empty reception room of the Chance Animal Shelter. Then she sat still, listening for dog barks.

  No dogs, but she thought she heard a muted human voice from beyond the door across the room that was, unsurprisingly, closed and locked. She had checked.

  In fact, there was nothing open about this place except that the front door hadn’t been locked. Maybe she shouldn’t have come early after all.

  But this did give her mind a chance to imagine the realities of this very special shelter, and how she would do here.

  If she got the job.

  Nella hadn’t been on a job interview for—how many years? Nearly ten. And the last job she had taken on, as an officer of the Los Angeles Police Department, had had a huge and complicated hiring procedure. She’d had to undergo a many-step process, including everything from writing an essay to taking physical fitness tests, polygraphs, and medical and psychological exams.

  Here? Well, since she was hoping to take on the role of a shelter manager, she figured the process could be simpler.

  Or not, since most important was the underlying basis of the job...

  She wished she had someone to talk to about it right now, but her reason for coming early had been to look around, observe the place and think about it while alone.

  And try to convince her stressed mind and body to relax and ultimately indulge in the interview process as if she enjoyed it, had no qualms about it, was doing it for fun.

  And not as a result of wanting to leave her former emotionally devastating and sadly dangerous job behind.

  Feeling her pulse rate speed up as her thoughts once more landed, as they did so often, on what had happened during her last major assignment, she inhaled deeply to relax.

  Predictably, this room contained an underlying odor of—what else?—dog. But not much. In any case, instead of it causing Nella to run out of there, she found it surprisingly inviting.

  Or not so surprisingly.

  Looking down at herself, she wondered if she had dressed up enough for this interview. For most noncop jobs, she would have put on a professional-looking suit with a dark skirt and matching jacket, and a white shirt with conservative jewelry.

  But now? She had donned a suit, yes, but one with nice slacks rather than a skirt. No jewelry.

  It was probably still dressier than she would want to wear while working with untrained shelter pets who needed new homes, and the other portion of the job would mean working with people who probably couldn’t care less about her clothing—only about how caring she was and how she helped them.

  And protected them.

  She reached up to push her long dark brown hair behind her ears. On the job as a cop, she wore it in a bun to keep it out of her way. Here, since she thought she appeared as professional yet less cop-like with her hair down, she hadn’t rolled it up.

  But how much longer did she need to wait? She
pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at the time.

  Her interview with the Chance Shelter Director, Scott Sherridan, still wasn’t for another fifteen minutes. She’d called him when she arrived inside this reception area but only got his voice mail. The building’s front door was unlocked, and when she came inside and pushed the doorbell button beside the locked inner door, she was soon greeted by a thirtysomething woman, maybe a few years older than Nella, in a bright green Chance Animal Shelter T-shirt with the word Manager on the pocket, and jeans. She’d introduced herself as Telma Andelsen.

  “You’re a little early,” Telma had said. “Scott’s always prompt, so please wait here and he’ll be with you soon.” She’d left Nella alone in the room with a smile and a wish for good luck—that would have seemed more sincere if she hadn’t stared at Nella with such curiosity before leaving.

  Well, as Nella knew, this animal shelter was a whole lot more than it appeared to be.

  Which was undoubtedly why she’d seen Telma open the inside door with a keycard, then heard the lock click on the door after Telma disappeared through it.

  Nella sat back in her chair and looked around again. She saw some magazines on a squat plastic table between two of the wooden chairs matching hers around the perimeter of the moderate-sized room. She stood to grab one. The magazines were all about pet rescues and care, mostly published by national animal protection organizations. She picked up the one that looked most interesting.

  It undoubtedly contained information she would soon need to know—if all went well.

  She sat back down on her chair’s seat, a blue vinyl unlikely to be damaged or destroyed by any animals brought in to meet prospective adopters, she assumed.

  Along the far wall was the door through which Telma had entered and left this room. Did she have an office there?

  Did Director Sherridan? Most likely.

  And the animals—she presumed the shelter area extended far beyond that, although the whole site was enclosed and not visible through the outer fence to anyone driving or walking around it.

  For good reason.

  Would she at least get to see the shelter animals, even if she didn’t get the job? She hoped so. She liked pets, particularly dogs and cats, and also liked the idea of helping to rehome them, along with other duties here. If she got the job.

  Damn. She was getting tired of thinking. Speculating. She wanted to see a person. Scott Sherridan.

  Knowing she wouldn’t absorb anything from the magazine, she stood and began pacing. The floor’s tile surface seemed appropriate for cleaning if any rescued animals wound up in here and weren’t particularly housebroken.

  But the people. The other people. Who were they? Where were they? Behind the fencing with pets? Upstairs, possibly, since the upper floors, with the exterior visible when she looked up from outside the entry door, seemed fairly large. Which was logical, since the site had once been a major apartment complex before it had been turned into a pet shelter.

  She assumed that, like this downstairs reception area and the shelter outside that she’d yet to see, the apartments had been renovated.

  If all went as she hoped, she would soon get a tour—and meet their current residents.

  She glanced at her phone again. Twelve more minutes to go. And Telma had said Scott was prompt.

  She hoped so.

  She sat again after pulling the magazine off her chair. The cover featured an article on cat intelligence. And another about a new method for dog training. Both sounded potentially interesting, although she doubted she could concentrate right now.

  She forced herself not to look at the time on her phone again.

  And then the front door she had come through opened, slamming against the wall.

  Nella gasped as she turned to look that way. A woman ran in and shut the door hard behind her.

  She appeared middle-aged, dressed in jeans and a yellow shirt that looked too large for her. She stood there, leaning against the door as if to hold it shut, breathing almost frantically.

  “Hello?” Nella said tentatively. “Can I help you?” Of course she didn’t work here, not yet and maybe never. But she suspected this shelter existed for women like this.

  “This is that Chance Animal Shelter, isn’t it?” The woman’s voice was raspy, since she was crying. Her eyes were huge, her face pale, and she appeared terrified.

  “Yes, it is.” Nella knew better than to reveal the real character of the place, even to this woman, who might already know it. “Are you looking for an animal to adopt?” That might sound ridiculous, but Nella thought it would be best to get the woman talking, revealing as much as possible about what was in her mind.

  “No!” The woman’s voice was emphatic. She continued more softly, aiming a quick glance toward Nella before looking away again. “I... I mean I might like to start working here. I like animals.”

  “I see.” Nella wondered how much word was out there regarding what this shelter really was about. The idea, she gathered, was to keep it covert. Highly covert, to the extent possible.

  But some people worked here as managers, like Scott and Telma. Others became residents, as she understood it, and perhaps talked about it when they shouldn’t. And they probably were referred here by someone who knew. The residents ostensibly, and maybe actually, worked here to help the animals. But they were also under the protection of the managers, because things in their lives had put them into danger, and they needed involvement in a protection program to keep them safe.

  Like the Chance Animal Shelter.

  Which was largely why Nella was interested in being hired here as a manager and protector, making use of her police officer background in a very different way. Helping animals, sure, but helping people even more.

  Like this one?

  Nella assumed the shelter managers had a protocol about how they accepted people into the human program. Someone diving through the door like this lady most likely wasn’t following it.

  “Am I hired?” the woman asked, her tone hopeful.

  “I’m very new here,” Nella told her. “I can’t hire you.” Or let you stay for protection.

  Why did she even need protection, assuming that was really why she was here?

  “Then please, please, let me talk to someone who can.”

  Which made the most sense to Nella, too.

  “I’ll see if I can contact one of the senior managers,” Nella told her. She wanted to know more first, though.

  What if this woman was trying to pull some kind of scam—even though she appeared genuinely distraught and possibly in need of help?

  Okay, Nella realized she might be too suspicious, as well as protective of this place she wanted to work for—but was far from being hired herself, at least not yet. Still...

  “Please tell me your name,” Nella said, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I’m Ann,” she said, and took a step closer to Nella, looking her straight in the eye. Hers were light brown and bloodshot. “I... I have a good reason for wanting to work here. Really.” She hesitated. “And I really do love animals.”

  That and suggested that animals were not the only reason Ann was there, as Nella had figured.

  “Okay, Ann,” she said. “Just wait a minute.”

  Nella didn’t like turning her back on Ann, despite her assumption the woman was being honest. She maneuvered so she only partly faced away from her and pressed the bell near the door Telma had come through before.

  At the same time, she pulled her phone from her pocket again and pushed in Scott’s number. After all, it was close to the time they were supposed to meet.

  And Scott did answer. “Hello, Nella. I’m on my way to the reception area to come get you so we can talk.”

  “Great,” Nella said. “And when you get here, I’ll introduce you to Ann, who just came in throu
gh the front door. She’s kind of upset—and she’s looking for a job here, too.”

  “Really? I’ll be right there.”

  Almost as soon as Nella touched her phone screen to end the call, the door beside her opened. She moved slightly to get out of the way of the man who stepped through the opening.

  After closing the door behind himself, he glanced down at her. “Hi, Nella. Welcome.” He quickly looked beyond her to where Ann now paced near the chair where Nella had sat before.

  “Hello, Scott,” Nella said to his back, smiling slightly in amusement at their strange meeting.

  She hadn’t even considered what her potential boss might look like, though she figured he would be somewhat in disguise from his real job, part of the Chance Police Department, as she understood it. But at first glance, she found him quite a good-looking guy, tall, with broad shoulders and a no-nonsense stride. He wore jeans and a blue denim work shirt with a red-and-brown Chance Animal Shelter logo on its chest pocket, complete with the outline of a dog and the word Manager on it, too. His face was long with angular cheeks, and Nella had noticed how blue his eyes were during the instant he had looked at her. His facial stubble matched the darkness of his crown of short hair.

  His appearance was irrelevant, though, despite her finding it noteworthy.

  His way of dealing with people like those Ann might represent? That was important.

  “Hi,” he said to Ann. The woman shrank back in obvious nervousness, but he continued, “I’m Scott Sherridan, director of this shelter. I assume you’re aware of the nature of this special animal shelter, right?”

  She nodded. “I like animals,” her voice squeaked.

  “I do, too,” Scott said. “And people. But are you interested in working here to help animals?”

  Ann nodded, not meeting Scott’s eyes. “Yes. Please. I need... I need a job.”

  “And we can always use new staff members. But let’s talk, okay? Come with me inside the shelter, and, Nella, you can join us. I’ll interview Ann first, then come talk with you.”

  “Fine.” Nella soon followed Scott through the door he’d unlocked to the inner part of the shelter, with Ann close behind him. He locked the door again behind them.