On His Watch (Vengeance Is Mine Book 1)

by Susanne Matthews

  Susanne Matthews

  On His Watch

  Vengeance is Mine Series, Book One

  Romantic Thriller

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  While some of the locations used in this novel are actual places, all characters, events and the main setting of Larosa, California are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, places, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright Susanne Matthews 2018

  ISBN:

  PUBLISHER

  MHSLM Publishing

  COVER ART

  Melinda De Ross

  The sins of the father are laid upon his children.

  William Shakespeare

  Prologue

  “Son of a bitch!” Jason Spark cursed for the umpteenth time, running his hand through his hair. How the hell had he gotten himself into this mess? He should’ve spent the night in Sacramento with Anderson, the other agent on vacation this week. They’d flown out together and Jason had offered him a ride. Whoever said it never rained in California must’ve been a tourist.

  This early spring storm was one of the worst he’d ever seen. Would’ve been nice if Rick had mentioned it when he’d called him after his plane had landed in Frisco. The weather there had been fine. It was amazing how quickly things had changed.

  So far tonight, he’d skirted several fender-benders along Highway 101 as he’d traveled west from the capital city. The deeper into the hills he drove, the nastier it got. As much as he needed a change, he didn’t intend for it to be permanent. The last thing he wanted to do was exchange his gun and badge for a halo and a harp. Who was he kidding? If he was going to trade them in, it would probably be for fire, brimstone, and a pitchfork.

  He pulled off the main highway onto Dry Creek Road and had traveled no more than a dozen miles when a flash of lightning illuminated the sky. In the distance, he could see the road blocked by a large tree. The news lately had been full of images of torrential downpours complete with mudslides and flashfloods. He couldn’t imagine a worse fate than being buried alive.

  He sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was get out of the nice warm cab to pull a tree off the road, but it didn’t look as if he had much choice. The damn thing blocked both lanes.

  Tapping his Bluetooth, he contacted his brother.

  “Rick, it’s me. It looks like I’m going to be later than I expected,” he said. “Don’t wait dinner for me.”

  “How are the roads?”

  “Like shit. Would’ve been nice if you’d told me I should’ve requested an ark from the rental place rather than a truck.”

  Rick laughed. “It’s just a little rain. Don’t be a wimp.”

  “A little rain, my ass. Noah probably didn’t have this much to cope with. Listen, you should know there’s a tree down on Dry Creek Road. I’ll pull it to the side enough to pass, but you should send ... What the hell?” He stopped the truck, slammed the gears into park, and turned on his brights, not that they helped much with the way it was coming down. “Rick, it looks like the tree hit a car. I’m going to get out and have a look, but you’d better send someone a.s.a.p.”

  “I’ll send a tow truck. Let me know if you’ll need an ambo. Where are you?” he asked, the humor gone from his voice.

  “About a dozen miles from the cut-off. I’ll call back when I know more.”

  He hung up, praying the driver had abandoned the car and he wouldn’t find anyone inside. Grabbing the flashlight out of his bag on the backseat, he opened the door, only to have it yanked out of his hand. Thanks to the wind, the cold rain soaked through his clothes in an instant. Moving around to the back, he opened the tailgate and reached for the tow rope Rick had asked him to pick up. Talk about a lucky coincidence.

  Fighting the wind, he walked around to the front of the truck and secured one end of the rope to the truck’s bumper, holding onto the line as he walked toward the vehicle.

  The tree’s lighter top branches had landed on a newer model luxury sedan. He caught glimpses of the car through the branches and saw that the light was on inside and its windows were fogged. There was definitely someone in the car.

  Once he slipped under the branches, the rain barely touched him. He pushed his way through the budding foliage until he reached the driver’s side door. He tapped on the window, and jumped back when a woman screamed, and the piercing, shrieking cry of a frightened child erupted from the vehicle.

  “Lady, it’s okay.” He yelled to be heard above the wails of the wind and the child. “Open the window. I’m an FBI agent.” Where had he put his damn credentials? “Is anyone injured in there?” The child’s cries continued to echo and actually got louder as the window slowly slid down, proof that the battery was on its last legs.

  The first thing he saw was a Padres’ cap under which was the most incredible red hair imaginable. Reaching past her shoulders, it reminded him of fine copper wire. Frightened almond-shaped hazel eyes stared at him out of a pale face, the only color provided by a smattering of freckles across her nose. She reminded him of one of the paintings he’d seen at that gallery he’d visited last month in Washington. Almost too beautiful to be real.

  “You’re an answer to prayer,” she said. “If I ever needed an angel it’s now.”

  “Believe me, I’m no angel, but I’m here to help.”

  “I was beginning to think no one could. I’ve tried to call my husband, but there’s no answer on his cellphone, at the clinic, or at the house. With the children, I didn’t dare leave the car and try to walk in this mess.”

  He glanced into the car and saw the sullen boy sitting in the back seat, his hands over his ears trying to block out the sound of his sister’s crying. He could sympathize. Did all little girls cry in that high-pitched voice?

  “Mandy, it’s okay, honey,” she said, trying to soothe the child whose face was buried in her teddy bear—at least he thought it was a bear. “This man is going to help us. We’ll be home soon.”

  Jason smiled. “Leaving a vehicle in weather like this is never a good idea. My brother’s the sheriff and helps on its way. I called as soon as I saw the tree. Is anyone hurt?” He noted the bruise on her upper arm, but it didn’t seem like a new one.

  “We’re fine. Just a little scared.” She smiled.

  Sirens in the distance grew louder as they neared, cutting off abruptly.

  “Jason? Where are you?” Rick yelled, the sound of leaves rustling and twigs snapping announcing his arrival.

  “Over here,” he called.

  Rick came out of the foliage, his campaign hat askew, and looked over the front of the car, his eyes widening as he took in the damage.

  “Is everyone okay?” he asked. “That’s not going to be easy to fix.”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “There’s a woman and two kids inside. They’re cold and scared, but fine otherwise.”

  “Paramedics are on the way just in case. Bud needs help tying the tree to pull it off the road. Can you go help him? I’ve got this.”

  Jason turned to the woman. Those gray-green eyes imprinted themselves on his soul.

  “You’re in good hands,” he said to her. “Your husband will be glad to see you all home safe. He looked at the car, realizing how much worse it could’ve been.

  “Thanks.” White teeth bit into her lower lip before a smile brightened her face. “If I ever need rescuing again, I’ll ask for the same hero angel.”

  Jason chuckled. “Believe me, as I said, I’m no angel, but you’re
welcome. Glad I could help.”

  Chapter One

  “You’ve grown at least three inches taller this summer. Grandma won’t recognize you when she sees you at Christmas.” Nikki Hart smiled down at her daughter, Mandy, all arms and legs, reminding her of a new foal who had yet to adjust to its body. She pulled the pink princess nightgown over the child’s head. The sleeves didn’t reach her wrists. Something else she’d outgrown. Sam wasn’t going to be happy about it, but the child would need new clothes—again.

  Starting kindergarten tomorrow. Where had the time gone?

  They’d moved from San Francisco to Larosa, this small town in the mountains on the edge of wine country, almost six months ago. She still missed the hustle and bustle of the big city and her friends, as did the children, but for their sake and the sake of her marriage—such as it was—she was doing her best to adapt.

  Mandy’s shoulder-length, sun-bleached tresses gleamed in the soft bedroom light, their strawberry scent filling the room with freshness. Since she’d turned five two weeks ago, her daughter had grown an independent streak a mile long; if anyone tried to take away the strawberry-scented shampoo and body wash named after her favorite doll, they’d be in for a battle. She might have given up her blanket, but some things were sacrosanct.

  “I’m older now. I’m supposed to get bigger,” Mandy replied seriously, staring at her with her father’s dark brown eyes. She reached out and patted Nikki’s belly. “I’m going to be a big sister, not just a little one. Daddy said only babies are afraid of the dark. I’m not a baby. I can do this.”

  Mandy took a deep breath and stared down at the child-size sleeping bag on the guest room floor beside the bed covered with a navy and white handmade quilt.

  “Are you sure you want to do this tonight? There isn’t any hurry. You have a big day tomorrow.”

  The stubborn set of her daughter’s shoulders was all the answer she needed. With her arms crossed over her chest, she looked so much like her father in one of his moods, Nikki couldn’t help but laugh. She shook her head.

  “Do you have everything you need?”

  Mandy nodded and crawled into the sleeping bag, pulling her doll in beside her and picking up the flashlight she’d set on the pillow earlier. “I have the big flashlight and Benji.” She indicated the baby doll.

  “Tell me when you’re ready, and I’ll push you under the bed. I still don’t understand why you have to sleep under this bed.”

  “Because it’s the darkest place in the house, Mommy. I checked everywhere, even the basement. There are too many spiders and yucky bugs down there. I don’t want Lily, Megan, and Sally to think I’m a baby. That’s why I have to practice, so I won’t be scared.”

  She should have guessed. Only the power of a sleepover invitation could have pushed her daughter this far out of her comfort zone.

  Nikki could empathize. At thirty-eight, she was still uncomfortable in dark, unfamiliar places and wasn’t immune to the nightmares that had plagued her for years. Maybe such fears were hereditary.

  “You’ll be fine, sweetie. I doubt Lily’s living room will be completely dark anyway, and you won’t be alone.”

  “Joey says the puppies can leave their mother soon. Please can you ask Daddy again if we can have one? Joey says it’ll be free. I wouldn’t need any other birthday presents—not even a party. Danny and I will take care of it, I promise. Daddy isn’t home much. We could keep the puppy out of his way.”

  Nikki shook her head. “You know, honey, just because you want something doesn’t mean that you can have it. Even a free puppy is a lot of work...” She stopped as the joy faded from her daughter’s eyes.

  She was starting to sound more and more like Sam. Would it really be that bad? God knows she’d always wanted a dog of her own, one of those cute little Shetland sheepdogs, a miniature version of Lassie ... Maybe for once, she should put her foot down. What was the worst he could do? Rubbing the bruise on her upper arm, she sighed.

  “I know, Mommy.” Mandy echoed her sigh. Nikki bent down and gave her daughter a loud, smacking kiss.

  “Let me talk to Daddy. I’m not promising anything.”

  Mandy jumped out of the sleeping bag and showered her face with kisses.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the bestest mommy in the whole world. I’ll take really good care of the puppy.”

  “I didn’t say we’d get one for sure,” Nikki continued, knowing full well that now that she’d committed to this, she would advocate for her daughter and the sheltie pup she wanted. “Pleasant dreams. I love you.”

  She pushed the sleeping bag full of child under the double bed and dropped the bed skirt.

  “’Night, Mommy. Love you, too.”

  Nikki smiled and closed the bedroom door. She crossed the hall to the children’s bathroom. How could one small girl make such a mess? She took the basket hanging from a hook on the wall and tossed in the dolls and other essentials Mandy needed to take a bath. She hung the forest-green towels on the bar, sprayed and wiped down the tub, and put away the hair dryer, her mind traveling a mile a minute as she worked.

  She glanced at the clock on the counter. Eight-fifty. Normally, her husband’s clinic closed at eight, but Sam had called earlier and said an emergency had come in. He’d sounded tense, so she suspected the injury must be a bad one.

  Satisfied the children’s bathroom was as clean as she could get it, she turned on the nightlight and went down the hall to the master bedroom. She removed her clothes and donned the new royal blue silk lounge pajamas she’d bought last week in Santa Rosa when she’d gone in for her prenatal visit. The baby bump was barely visible beneath the loose, flowing top.

  She hadn’t gained a lot of weight with this pregnancy, but she was older, and everything seemed a little harder than five years ago when she’d carried Mandy. She was tired a lot of the time—too tired to spend much time on her artwork—but she rested a bit during the day while Mandy and her older brother, Danny, played quietly indoors.

  This child, whom they’d tentatively named Kylie Elizabeth, was unexpected, and although Sam had been upset when he’d learned she was pregnant again, he’d slowly come around. He seemed happy about the prospect of another daughter.

  Moving here had been the right thing to do. Sam seemed more relaxed than he’d been since before they’d left San Francisco. He’d let her help decorate the clinic, and she handled the reception on his secretary’s day off. They were almost a team again, the way they’d been before they’d married. He worked hard to make the clinic a success and while she admired her husband’s skills as a physician, as a father he had a lot to learn.

  Could his age have something to do with that? He was welcoming daughters when his friends were welcoming granddaughters. There’d been a few of his colleagues from the hospital at their wedding, but she didn’t think she’d ever met a friend of Sam’s who wasn’t involved with the hospital or the clinic in some way. He didn’t golf or fish, and he wasn’t much of a sports fan. Before moving to Larosa, he’d spent most of his time at the hospital. Now, he spent his days at the clinic. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a weekend off. He needed to spend more time with his kids and get to know them.

  She stepped into the adjacent bathroom, brushed her chin-length copper hair, checked it for signs of tell-tale gray, and pushed it behind her ears. One of the perks of being a redhead was her hair would lighten, but not necessarily turn gray. She’d taken a chance, cut a foot off it a few weeks back, and liked it this way. Sam hadn’t been happy and he’d voiced his displeasure loudly, but after admonishing her never to do it again, he’d relented, another sign that life might be better for all of them here.

  Nikki added a fresh coat of mascara to her hazel eyes and touched up her lipstick. Slight swelling was part and parcel of this pregnancy, and her hands and feet were puffy tonight. When she tried to remove her rings, they wouldn’t budge. She would take them off before bed—a little soap and water should do the
trick—and ask Sam to put her diamond in the safe until after the baby was born. As an afterthought, she spritzed the air with her favorite perfume and walked through the mist. If Sam wasn’t too tired, maybe they could talk about getting away as a family for a few days next month, maybe plan a visit to the San Francisco Zoo over the Columbus Day Weekend. There was a new baby orangutan the kids would love to see.

  The sound of breaking glass coming from downstairs shattered the stillness. Nikki tensed. Had the sound come from the kitchen? Had she left a window open? She’d shut the bedroom window a few moments ago because the wind had picked up and its whistling sound bothered her. Could it have knocked over the crystal vase of roses Sam had sent her this morning? Perhaps Mrs. Olsen’s tabby had jumped in the window and knocked the vase over. The cat had been a regular visitor when the previous owners had lived here, and he saw no reason to curtail his visits. She’d almost had a heart attack the last time he entered, bringing her a gift—a dead mouse—and Danny had laughed himself silly at “Mommy’s girliness.” Sam, not an animal lover, had threatened to poison the animal if it came into the house again. If the cat had broken the vase, its days were numbered.

  She swallowed and wring her hands. What if she was wrong and there was someone in the house?

  Recently, she’d noticed an influx of strangers in town, some looking more unkempt than others. There were plenty of family campers, migrant workers looking for work in the vineyards, but every now and then, she’d seen so-called gold prospectors combing the Larosa Hills. Trudy, Mandy’s best friend Lily’s mother, had said they were harmless but to a girl like Nikki from San Francisco, dirty, half-starved men meant trouble. They could easily be junkies desperately needing a fix.

  She took a deep breath. She didn’t hear any other suspicious sounds. As Sam would say, she was letting her imagination run wild. Most likely it was one of Larosa’s minor quakes that had caused a glass to slip off the table. Just a few miles off the San Andreas Fault, the town was constantly trembling. She barely noticed the Earth’s slight shaking anymore.