Murder Under the Mistletoe

by Terri Reed

  He grabbed the camera and snapped pictures. He couldn’t move in until he saw an exchange of drugs. And if the deal went down inside, he’d have to wait for the players to leave before busting them.

  “What’s happening?” Paul asked, his voice sounding a bit garbled. Probably from the cheeseburger dinner Paul always had on stakeouts. The man lived on fast food.

  “Not much,” Tyler replied. Weary, he set the camera aside to take a swig of water.

  “Well, I wish they’d get on with it,” Paul groused. “My old joints are getting stiff sitting here.”

  Like him, Paul was single and worked the holidays. Paul was fifteen years Tyler’s senior.

  It occurred to Tyler in a brief moment of clarity that with the way things were going, he would be Paul in fifteen years. Alone and sitting in a too-small car on Christmas Eve waiting for some criminal element to make his day.

  “I’m done,” he said aloud. He didn’t want this life anymore. He wanted to be with Heather and Colin. Though he knew they were doing all right without him. He’d kept tabs via Deputy Potter, who had agreed to regularly check in at the farm. But Tyler needed Heather and Colin in his life. He loved them both and wanted nothing more than to spend Christmas with them.

  “What’s that?” Paul asked.

  Tyler watched the suspect enter the building, the door closing firmly behind him. “Tonight’s stakeout is a dud. Guy disappeared inside. I’m calling it.”

  Meaning he was packing up shop and would hand the case over to someone else. For Tyler tonight was the beginning of what he hoped would be a wonderful life.

  * * *

  “Mommy!” Colin jumped onto Heather’s bed, waking her from a sound sleep. She sat up to smile at him. He was dressed in his rocket pj’s, his dinosaur hung from his hand and his little face was lit up like a Fourth of July sparkler. “It’s Christmas morning! Happy Birthday, Jesus!”

  “Yes, it sure is.” Instead of pretending that Santa was real and leaving presents under the tree, she’d taught Colin that the giving of gifts to each other was an expression of love following God’s example of giving humanity Jesus. “Shall we sing happy birthday to Jesus?”

  “Not without the cake!”

  They’d baked a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, Colin’s favorite. They would put candles on it and blow them out together.

  “Okay, sweetie, give Mommy just a minute to wake up.”

  “Can I go look at the presents?”

  She smiled as love crowded her chest. “Yes. After you brush your teeth.”

  “I already did.” He crawled over to her and breathed his minty breath in her face. “Smell.”

  She laughed and hugged him tight. “Okay, smart boy. You can go downstairs. Just don’t open any presents until I get there.”

  “I won’t.” Colin bounced off the bed and ran out of the room. His feet pounding down the stairs reverberated through the house.

  Heather flopped back for a moment. She hadn’t been sleeping well this past month. Nightmares of Liv and her thug disturbed her rest. Many times in the middle of the night Heather would reach out, calling Tyler’s name, and she’d awaken knowing he wasn’t there. She hadn’t heard from him since a week after arresting Liv.

  He’d called to tell her that Liv had cracked, like he’d predicted. She’d admitted to injecting Seth with a lethal amount of cocaine. She’d also stated she’d wanted Heather sick so that she could ingratiate herself more firmly on the farm.

  It had been so good yet so distressing to hear Tyler’s voice. She’d wanted to beg him to come back. She hadn’t. He had a life that didn’t include her and her son. End of story.

  But today she wouldn’t think about the heartache that throbbed within her chest. Today she’d concentrate on her son. She threw back the covers and changed from her pajamas into her comfy sweats. She swept her hair up into a loose ponytail and brushed her teeth.

  The tune of “Jingle Bells” filled the house.

  She groaned. Who would be coming to visit on Christmas morning? She wasn’t expecting anyone. She padded downstairs in time to see Colin streaking across the hardwood floor toward the front door.

  “Colin, no.” She hurried down the last few stairs and rounded the corner just as Colin yanked open the door.

  Tyler stood on the other side of the threshold, looking so handsome in pressed khaki slacks, a button-down shirt beneath a down jacket. He held a bag of presents in one hand and a bouquet of red and white roses in the other. His gaze collided with her, knocking the breath from her lungs and sending her senses reeling. He was here. Really here. She pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  “Mr. Tyler!” Colin cried and flung himself at Tyler’s legs, hugging him tightly.

  Stunned, Heather moved to him. She blinked back the tears burning her eyes.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “There’s nowhere on earth I’d rather be on Christmas than here with you two.” He held out the flowers.

  She took them and buried her nose in the fragrant blooms to hide her confusion and delight.

  “Hey, squirt.” Tyler easily lifted Colin with one arm. “I missed you.”

  Colin flung his arms around Tyler’s neck. “We missed you.”

  Heather met Tyler’s gaze. He arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. We missed you.”

  His smile could have lit up all the United States. “Good.”

  Setting Colin down, Tyler entered the house and shut the door.

  “Are those for us?” Colin asked, pointing to the bag of presents.

  “They are.” He handed Colin the bag. “Can you put them under the tree?”

  Colin grabbed the bag and dragged it into the living room where their large Douglas fir, decorated with a ton of ornaments and multicolored lights, stood in front of the living room window.

  Tyler closed the distance between him and Heather. Though he didn’t touch her, his gaze was a soft caress that sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

  “I love you, Heather Larson-Randall. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.”

  “What about your career?” Surely he wasn’t leaving law enforcement for her. She couldn’t allow that because one day he might come to resent her for it.

  “Seems the sheriff’s department is in need of someone with my experience and background.”

  Overcome with joy, she circled her free arm around his neck and pulled him closer. “Yes. Oh, yes, I’ll have you. I love you.” She pressed her lips to his in a soul-searing kiss.

  “Hey, you’re not under the mistletoe,” Colin chided.

  They broke the kiss with laughter filling their hearts.

  Colin bounced on his feet. “Can we open presents now?”

  Filled with love and gratitude, Heather thanked God for giving her the best gift ever—a wonderful son and a man to love for eternity.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from HIGH-CALIBER HOLIDAY by Susan Sleeman

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you’ve enjoyed the third book in the Northern Border Patrol series. I love writing Christmas stories because the time of year when we celebrate the birth of Jesus is so very special to me. Setting this book on a Christmas tree farm gave me a way to bring in DEA agent Tyler Griffin on the trail of a drug-smuggling ring. Pairing him with widow Heather Larson-Randall was a perfect fit.

  Heather needed to open her heart up to a second chance at love, but trusting both Tyler and God didn’t come easy for her. When she finally was ready to put her trust in Tyler and God, she was able to have her happy ending, despite the danger that threatened her and her son’s life. Tyler arrived at the farm never expecting to fall in love with Heather. He wrongly believed he wasn’t
husband or father material. But throughout the story his actions proved how wrong his belief was. And when he finally opened up to the love Heather offered, he realized that he was the perfect man for Heather and her son.

  I hope this holiday season finds you with the ones you love and that the true meaning of Christmas will open your hearts to God’s love.

  Look for the next two Northern Border Patrol books coming in 2016.

  Also keep an eye out for the new continuity series from Love Inspired Suspense—Rookie K-9 Unit: brave rookies and their loyal dogs serve and protect. This continuity will run from April 2016 to September 2016. I’ll be writing book 1!

  Until next time, may God bless you and keep you in His care.

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.

  You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired Suspense every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

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  HarlequinBlog.com

  High-Caliber Holiday

  by Susan Sleeman

  ONE

  The gun couldn’t be real. Could it?

  Morgan Thorsby clutched her friend Lacy’s arm and scooted back from the gun-wielding man charging onto the MAX light rail train. Brisk, chilling air rushed in behind him as she looked at the silvery gun glinting in the overhead light.

  The weapon looked real. Very real.

  The man took a step closer. Anger radiated from his body. His breathing was ragged as he made a quick survey of the space, skimming tortured eyes over the few passengers on board this late at night.

  Please, God, don’t let this be real, Morgan begged, her heart thumping in her chest. She fought to control her fear and studied the man’s jittery behavior.

  Could he be one of those shooters who’d been pushed beyond his breaking point until he’d decided to randomly kill people? She couldn’t just sit here and wait to find out. Her life was in immediate danger and it was up to her to protect herself. She had to do something, but what?

  Run. Hide. Fight. The active shooter video she’d viewed at work rushed through her mind. The video taught them not to sit back passively but to run, hide or fight. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t hide. She could fight. But how? With what?

  She searched the train looking for a weapon. Any weapon.

  The man’s distressed gaze landed on her with a finality that took her breath away.

  “He’s coming toward us.” Lacy grabbed Morgan’s hand.

  “Don’t panic,” Morgan said and forced herself to look into the gunman’s eyes. She saw no life in the depths. Desperation, panic, yes, but nothing to prove he was alive.

  Oh no. No.

  She knew this man. She’d seen him in the sea of men and women who’d brought a class-action lawsuit against her family’s company, claiming Thorsby Mill had polluted the water and caused cancer in the residents. As the company’s attorney at that time, she’d seen the plaintiffs’ turmoil day in and day out during the trial.

  Plaintiffs who’d threatened her life then and continued to send threatening letters after the mill had been cleared of any wrongdoing. The gunman was one of those people. And that meant he’d come for her. Her alone.

  Her heart raced faster. Beating at an unstoppable gallop.

  He continued moving, his ragged jeans whispering through the quiet. Step by step, he advanced on her, purpose in each thump of his dirty boots on the metal floor. Hatred spewed from his expression.

  Morgan felt time stop. She was aware of Lacy’s touch. Of the cold. The icy cold. Her palms starting to sweat. The bag holding a Christmas present for her mother slid from her fingers, the crystal vase falling to the floor. The sound of breaking glass caught his attention, distracting him for a moment. But it all seemed to be happening at the end of a tunnel. In a foggy haze. All except the gun. It was clear and sharp and she could reach out to touch it.

  Lacy clutched Morgan’s hand tighter, drawing her attention. Lacy didn’t deserve to be a party to this. Morgan had to do everything she could to portray strength and confidence for her friend, to ease her fear. Morgan sat up straighter. Firmed her shoulders. Jutted out her jaw and waited for him to act.

  Eyes riveted to her, he took the last few steps. He raised the gun. Slowly. Purposefully. He planted it on her temple. The cool steel bit into her skin, and she recoiled in fear.

  “Don’t back away, Morgan,” he said, his voice flat, as if he took hostages every day.

  She could smell the sour stench of alcohol radiating from him. The blood drained from her head. She felt weak. Powerless.

  “I’ve come for you. To pay you back. Just like I promised I would in my letter.” He glared down on her. “Your stinkin’ mill has taken my entire family, and it’s time for you to pay.”

  Anything she said would make him angrier so she didn’t speak at all, but waited for his finger to drift to the trigger.

  Silence descended on them, coursing through the space, tight, pervasive, building into a frenzy. A pressure cooker ready to erupt.

  An announcement carried into the silence, warning that the doors would soon close. His eyes grew wilder, his hold on reality a mere thread. Seconds ticked by, feeling like an hour. Panic threatened to swamp her.

  A twisted, mean smile claimed his thin lips as the doors whooshed together, cocooning her inside the car with a killer. The train set off, the side-to-side motion rocking Morgan, but the gunman stood strong, his weapon never wavering.

  With the gun at her head, she couldn’t form a coherent thought except that she was going to die. She didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he simply stood there. Watching. Maybe enjoying her terror. Wanting to make her suffer as his family suffered.

  Focus. Now. Figure a way out of this.

  The train slowed for the next stop, brakes squealing as they bit into the metal. Doors slid open. A rush of freezing air sliced into the train. There were no passengers waiting on the platform to board. The only other passenger on the train, a man in the back of the car, bolted out the door. Quick, staccato steps took him outside and into the cover of darkness.

  The gunman didn’t turn. Didn’t see. Didn’t notice.

  Lacy. Morgan could save Lacy the same way.

  Morgan forced herself to make eye contact with him. “You’re not upset with my friend. Just me. Can she please get off?”

  He eyed Lacy for a moment. She cringed. He took a breath and gave the briefest of nods. “Go now. Before I change my mind.”

  She stood slowly and looked back at Morgan, regret hanging in her eyes.

  “Go,” Morgan said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Ha!” he shouted, sending Lacy fleeing. “You’ll be as fine as all of my family and friends your greedy family killed.”

  Morgan ignored his words and kept watch on Lacy as she scurried through the falling snow into the dark shadows of the buildings. Good. She was safe. The car was now empty. If he fired his weapon, she’d be the only one injured.

  The doors slid on the track, closing with a thump of finality.

  “Now we’re alone, and we can get down to business,” he said.

  Business. Meaning her death.

  Time slowed and she was aware of everything around her. The grating of the train as they took a curve. The pungent scent of his alcohol. The unmistakable cloying smell of fear in the air.

  “Do you even know who I am?” he sneered.

  Morgan wished she could say she knew his name, but the pla
intiff list was long and she couldn’t identify them all. She knew the truth was plastered on her face so she didn’t speak a word.

  “You don’t know me, do you?” He shifted and pressed the gun deeper into her forehead. “I’m not surprised. Not after your coldhearted representation in the trial.”

  He huffed out a laugh and ground the gun into her skin, his eyes fixed on hers. “Well, know this, Morgan Thorsby. I’m Craig Shaw and everyone will soon know my name. The minute we reach the last stop, I’m the man who’s going to drag you off this train, haul you out to your precious mill and end your life.”

  * * *

  Brady Owens listened to the hum of tires as the First Response Squad raced toward MAX’s final Yellow Line stop near Portland State University. A 911 call from the train operator who’d been listening into the hostage situation told them the shooter planned to disembark with his hostage at this stop.

  “ETA two minutes,” team leader Jake Marsh announced from the driver’s seat.

  “Roger that,” Brady said, his pulse ratcheting up at the call to action.

  His fellow FRS members sitting on bench seats in the rear of the truck responded with somber affirmatives. Negotiator Archer Reed bowed his head in prayer. He would carry the heaviest duty tonight, talking the gunman down, hopefully preventing the need for Brady’s services as the team sniper. Paramedic Darcie Stevens would render aid to the traumatized woman and anyone injured in the incident. Jake would direct the action and bomb tech Cash Dixon would fill in wherever Jake asked. The only one missing from their six-person emergency response team was their other negotiator, Skyler, who was on her honeymoon.

  Brady couldn’t imagine any other people he’d want to take with him into the tense situation awaiting them. All team members except Darcie were sworn sheriff’s deputies who fulfilled other job responsibilities when they weren’t responding to an emergency. Though assigned to the county sheriff’s department, they were dispatched to handle negotiations and major emergencies for the entire Portland metro area regardless of county lines.