Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #2

by Terri Reed

  “In a heartbeat. If I’d had a clear shot.”

  Anguish flickered in her eyes, reminding him of the caring girl who’d nursed back to health every injured creature he’d brought to her doorstep.

  He reached for her hand as naturally as she’d reached for his the day he’d been the injured creature on her doorstep. Her fingers felt like ice and remained coolly rigid. “I love my brother, Sherri. But your welfare comes first.”

  Her surprised gaze jumped to his.

  “I’m not going to stand by and do nothing while he hurts innocent people,” he added, needing to convince her for a reason he didn’t want to examine too closely.

  Her gaze dove back to the sidewalk as her hand slipped from his grasp.

  Her retreat hurt more than it should have, considering she’d just been ambushed by his brother.

  “Listen, I can come by the ambulance base later to get your statement. But I need to confirm a couple of things. Eddie took you hostage to coerce you into handing over narcotics?”

  “Not at first. I surprised him when—” grimacing, she splayed her fingers over her throat and sank back to the porch step “—when he was trying to break into the cabinet.”

  “Okay.” He hated to press her for details when talking was obviously painful. But… “One more question for now. Do you have any idea who the guy he referred to is?”

  She shook her head.

  Cole pocketed his notebook and hunkered down in front of her until she couldn’t help but look at him. “I’ll make sure Eddie never bothers you again. I promise.” The disbelief that flickered in her eyes at her nod pierced clean through his soul. “I’m sorry this happened.”

  “Fat lot of good sorry does her,” her partner growled, stalking toward them. “You need to lock that punk up and throw away the key. He’s done nothing but terrorize Sherri for weeks!”

  “What?” Cole’s heart couldn’t have jolted harder if the guy had slapped paddles on his chest and zapped him. He jerked his attention back to Sherri. “Is that true?”

  She shook her head repeatedly this time.

  “Someone’s doing it,” her partner hissed.

  “Whoa, whoa. Back up a second.” Cole pulled out his notebook again. “These incidents, were they reported?”

  “No, they’ve been little things. The kind of things that could happen to any paramedic. Crank calls. Getting sideswiped.” He motioned toward Sherri’s black eye. “Assaults.”

  “So what makes you think that Eddie’s behind them? They all sound pretty random.”

  “’Cause they only happen to her!”

  The color drained from Sherri’s face, her white cheeks a sickeningly stark contrast to the bruises around her eyes and throat. “Dan, leave it alone,” she whispered.

  Cole’s heart lurched. She was afraid. Anyone with two eyes could see it. So why didn’t she want the incidents investigated? Did she know who was behind the other attacks?

  Dan shot a scowl toward the rear window of the cruiser. “A kid like that doesn’t hang around a neighborhood like this. No way did he just happen upon our ambulance. Not unless he’s breaking into old folks’ houses to grab their prescription meds.” His lips curled menacingly. “Either way, he needs to be locked up.”

  “No argument here,” Zeke agreed, his rear resting on the cruiser’s hood, his legs stretched casually in front of him, his arms crossed.

  Cole ignored him, focusing instead on Sherri as he clasped her elbow. “When I come by I’ll want details on every suspicious incident.” Her trembling reverberated through him, sending way too many unwelcome scenarios bouncing around his brain.

  Her lips flattened into a silent line, and she stepped backward toward her truck.

  “Okay?” he pressed. “I want to help you get to the bottom of what’s going on.”

  Zeke snorted. “Why don’t you start by barking up your own family tree?”

  Sherri wrapped her arms tightly around her middle and shook her head. “It’s not your problem, Cole.”

  “I’m making it my problem.”

  Copyright © 2015 by Sandra van den Bogerd

  ISBN-13: 9781460385005

  Joint Investigation

  Copyright © 2015 by Terri Reed

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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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  www.Harlequin.com

  HOMETOWN PROTECTOR

  After being attacked in her own store, Ellie Winters no longer considers her hometown a safe haven. Nor can she believe the lawman helping her recover is Johnny Rock, her former childhood friend—and the boy who once threw her family into turmoil. Though she’s secretly happy to see Johnny again, he’s only back to stop a drug ring. Too bad the trail leads straight to Ellie’s shop. Despite their rocky history, Johnny knows the pretty business owner can’t possibly be guilty. Now, with Johnny as the only thing standing between Ellie and a killer, he will do anything to keep her safe…and prove he’s worthy of Ellie trusting him with her heart.

  A crash sounded from the back of the store and Ellie jumped, splashing the contents of the punch bowl up and over the edge.

  Her mind flashed to last night. The man slamming her body against the utility sink. His callused hand against her lips. She gasped, a cold fear washing over her.

  Johnny moved toward her, a concerned look on his face. He held out his hand, indicating she stay put. Ellie swallowed hard as she watched him disappear into the storage room, her pulse beating wildly in her ears. A few minutes later, he returned with a piece of paper.

  Her stomach dropped.

  “This was stuffed in the hole of a brick.” He tipped his head toward the back door. “There’s a nice dent in the middle of the exterior door where he threw it.”

  Ellie let out a long breath as tiny stars danced in her line of vision. “What does it say?” The words rasped out of her dry throat.

  She read over his shoulder. In black angry letters, the wrinkled note read, “Stop playing games or you die.”

  Alison Stone lives with her husband of more than twenty years and their four children in western New York. Besides writing, Alison keeps busy volunteering at her children’s schools, driving her girls to dance and watching her boys race motocross. Alison loves to hear from her readers at Alison@alisonstone.com. For more information please visit her website, alisonstone.com. She’s also chatty on Twitter, @Alison_Stone. Find her on Facebook at facebook.com/AlisonStoneAuthor.

  Books by Alison Stone

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Plain Pursuit

  Critical Diagnosis

  Silver Lake Secrets

  Plain Peril

  High-Risk Homecoming

  High-Risk Homecoming

  By Alison Stone

  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

  —Philippians 4:13

  For my youngest daughter, Leah Grace, who loves a good storyline as much as her mother. I am proud of you and the person you’re becoming. L
ove you always.

  To my husband, Scott, and my oldest three kids, Scotty, Alex and Kelsey. Thank you for being exactly who you are. Love you, always and forever.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  DEAR READER

  EXCERPT FROM HIDDEN IDENTITY BY CAROL J. POST

  ONE

  Ellie dropped the paint roller and it landed with a plop-clack as the roller landed in the paint and the handle hit the edge of the plastic paint tray. Stepping back, she planted her fists on her hips, and then quickly checked her hands, relieved the bright splotches of paint on her fingers were dry. She resumed her stance and tipped her head, wondering if she should have gone more with the shade Pumpkin Spice and not Citrus Blast. But in the end, all the paint samples had begun to blend together during the height of the gift shop’s remodel and, in a fit of decisiveness, she’d chosen Citrus Blast.

  “Hmm, when I said our store needed a pop of color, I didn’t mean—” her friend and business partner, Ashley, winced and shook her head “—oh…I should have gone with you to the hardware store.”

  Ellie spun around, biting back her annoyance. Ashley was supposed to have gone with her and yet again, she had had a conflict. Ellie took in her friend’s cute fall sweater and jeans, and realized Ashley hadn’t stopped by to help. She’d probably fib and claim she had a scheduling conflict when in reality, she had a date.

  Ashley couldn’t hold back a smile. “I have a date, okay?” Ah, she actually admitted it. “I can’t help it if you’re all work and no play.”

  Ellie held up her palms to the unpacked boxes and unassembled shelving unit leaning against the adjacent wall. “Our shop is having its grand opening tomorrow.” She rolled her shoulders, hating the edge to her voice. She was hungry and every muscle in her body hurt. And more than anything, she was tired. So, so, so tired.

  Ashley shrugged and glanced around. “Everything looks great. Besides, we can’t put the shelves up on the back wall until you finish painting.” Her friend since the first day of kindergarten dragged a finger along a strand of her smooth blond hair and flipped it over her shoulder. “I told you that wall could wait, but you wanted to have everything perfect for tomorrow.”

  Ellie angled her head. “Don’t you?”

  “The shop looks great. We can shove those boxes in the back. No one will see them. Can’t those teenage boys from the church help again? They’re always looking for volunteer hours.” Ashley tapped the cardboard box with the toe of her new boots and rubbed her palms together. “No sense us breaking our backs.” Ashley laughed.

  Ellie straightened, stretching the crick in her back. What did Ashley know about backbreaking work?

  “Oh, you’re too much of a perfectionist,” Ashley continued. “You’ll always find things that need improvement.” Her pretty face brightened into a smile. “You need to relax. Have fun. Go on a date.”

  Ellie forced a laugh. Go on a date? Not likely. She wished she could be as easygoing as her longtime friend, but someone had to be the serious one, the planner. Ashley had led a charmed life where everything had been handed to her. Ellie’d had to work for absolutely everything she had and she was done letting others make decisions for her. She was finally taking the reins. Opening her gift shop as she’d always dreamed.

  When the right time came, Ellie had reached out to Ashley. Ellie had the vision. Ashley had the financial resources via a trust fund. Their arrangement worked. Ellie liked control and Ashley didn’t mind being more or less a silent partner, especially when she had a date or more pressing matters.

  Ashley grabbed Ellie’s hand and swung it playfully, nearly tugging her arm out of its socket. “Everything will be fine. I promise.”

  “I do tend to stress.” Ellie reclaimed her hand and rubbed her shoulder.

  “You’re a control freak.” Ashley shot her a you-know-I’m-right smile; a smile that always got Ashley exactly what she wanted. “I’m cool with that because I can be spacey sometimes.”

  Ellie jerked her thumb to the wall separating their shop from the bakery next door. The smells of fresh-baked bread and sweet cupcakes permeated the shop when the paint fumes didn’t take over. “Are you going out with Tony again?” Nervous bubbles popped in Ellie’s stomach. Tony Vino and his father owned the bakery next door. “Do you think that’s a good idea? If things don’t work out, you’ll have to see him all the time.”

  Ashley smiled. “You worry too much. Just have fun, can’t you? Besides, I promised him I’d treat him to dinner for all the help he’s been giving us. Can you imagine if we had to unload all those trucks ourselves?”

  How quickly Ashley forgot about all the hard work of the young men from her church. And her brother. Greg had helped unload a truck or two. But now, suddenly, Tony, who seemed to do more flirting than actual work, was the hero in Ashley’s eyes.

  Ellie rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. “I have to clean up here. Can you at least come in early tomorrow to help me put up the shelves and unpack the last few boxes?”

  “Of course.” Ashley tugged on the bottom of her sweater. “Our grand opening is going to be awesome. I have this really cute dress I’m going to wear.”

  Ashley’s enthusiasm vibrated through Ellie. It was this passion that moved Ellie to action. Otherwise she might have still been holed up in her childhood bedroom, stewing over a dead-end job and mourning the breakup with her boyfriend. She blinked slowly, knowing she had dodged a bullet on that one. One of these days, she’d have to track down the poor girl who’d sent her boyfriend romantic texts and send her a thank-you note. If Ellie hadn’t casually picked up her boyfriend’s dinging cell phone and seen the texts, she might never have known he’d been cheating on her. That had been the pivotal moment. The push she had needed to break up with him, move back to Williamstown and change the direction of her life.

  “Okay?” Ashley’s impatient tone suggested she had been trying to get Ellie’s attention while she was composing a thank-you note she’d never really write.

  “I’ll be here at 7:00 a.m.,” Ellie quickly said to cover up the fact she had been zoning.

  “Nine.”

  “Fine.” Ellie’s tone was part amusement, part frustration. Why did she bother?

  Ashley wiggled her fingers and ran out the front door and Ellie followed her to the exit. A set of bells clacked on the glass, an unnecessary setup considering the alarm system emitted a soft chime every time either the front or back door leading to the alley was opened. Ellie snapped the dead bolt into place and stared out onto quiet Main Street. The crimson-colored leaves on the trees fluttered in the wind and a few drifted to the ground. She loved this time of year.

  Crisp nights. Crunchy leaves. Colorful knit sweaters.

  She turned around and stepped into the center of her new gift shop. Excitement coursed through her. Finally, tomorrow was the grand opening. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to memorize the moment. Savoring this feeling for if, or more likely when, the going got tough.

  Then something…a stillness maybe, sent a chill skittering down her spine.

  Ellie rubbed her arms. She was tired. Really tired. But a good tired. Her muscles ached from all the physical labor she had done over the past three weeks getting this place ready. All she needed to do was clean up the roller and paint tray and call it a night.

  Thwack.

  The sharp noise sounded from the storage area. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled to life. Holding her breath, Ellie crept toward the storage-slash-office at the back of the store. She was such a chicken.

  It’s not
hing.

  Her pulse whooshed in her ears totally not buying the “it’s nothing” theory. It didn’t help that the exterior door leading to the alley was propped open. Nothing strange there. She had propped it open. She hadn’t wanted the paint fumes to asphyxiate her. As it was, she had a dull headache thumping at the back of her eyes.

  Her attention shifted to the floor. One of the paintings from a local artist that had been resting against the wall was now facedown on the gray concrete floor.

  The wind knocked it over, that’s all.

  Letting out a relieved sigh she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. She picked up the painting and set it on top of a stack of boxes. Boxes she hadn’t yet had a chance to sort through. She had given Ashley carte blanche to order for the store, but part of her wondered if they should have agreed on items. If they weren’t careful, they’d have more inventory than they could sell. Besides everyday gift-shop wares, they had taken in local work from artists and some unique items from around the world. She’d even included a few older pieces of her own. She longed for the time to create again. Ellie’s fingers itched at the thought.

  Ellie glanced around the shop one last time. After a few last-minute finishing touches tomorrow, she’d host a reception. A grand opening. She was ready. She had to be. For the first time in her life, she was doing something she wanted to do that wasn’t defined by her family. Or a boyfriend.

  This was her dream.

  She picked up the roller and paint tray, carried them into the storage room and placed them in the utility sink. She removed the broom propping open the back door and the door slammed with a satisfying thud. She turned the bolt and checked the handle again.

  Back at the sink, she turned on the hot water and let it run. The water flowed over the paint tray and roller and down into the drain in an orange spiral.

  Ellie was eager to go home and get a good night’s sleep.