Under the Agent's Protection

by Jennifer D. Bokal

  Wyatt shook his head. “She got away. But she won’t get far. Everyone in the state is looking for her. Hell, she’s the lead story on every newscast. She can’t stay hidden long.”

  Biting her bottom lip, Everly nodded. “Sheriff Haak?”

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “He didn’t make it.”

  “How is it that I’m alive, then?” Each time she spoke, her voice became stronger and louder. “I remember the moment that Darcy kicked away the stool. Everything went black and I knew I was dead.” Swallowing, she asked, “Who saved me? You?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “I wish I would’ve gotten there earlier...” There was so much more that Wyatt wanted to say, but even now, he couldn’t find the words.

  “How long have I been in the hospital?” she asked.

  “Almost a whole day.”

  Everly’s eyes went wide. “You have to tell me everything.”

  Wyatt began to speak, ready to use the old cliché—there’s not much to tell. But that would’ve been a lie.

  Because of the information brought to him by Marcus Jones, Wyatt finally felt as if he understood everything that had motivated Darcy Owens’ murderous acts.

  “Do you remember Chloe Ryder?”

  “The DA we met at Sally’s?” asked Everly. “Sure.”

  He then spent the next several minutes outlining the story he had been given. As a college student studying social work, Chloe had been an intern at Darcy’s school. A conversation between the young women had left Chloe uneasy and she suspected abuse at home. As per legal requirements, she reported her suspicions to her supervisor. They questioned Darcy, who denied everything and said that Chloe had been mistaken. Since there was no evidence, no action was taken.

  A few weeks later, Darcy’s father was found dead.

  “Let me guess,” said Everly. “He drank too much and got lost outside.”

  “Your guess would be right. But there’s more. A few weeks following, her mother committed suicide. Death by hanging. Everyone assumed that her mother was broken-hearted over losing her husband. After that, Darcy dropped out of school and wasn’t heard from again.”

  Everly shuddered. “Is she recreating the accidental deaths of both her parents?”

  “Could be,” said Wyatt. “Or perhaps, those two were Darcy’s original victims and she’s just been repeating the same crimes again and again.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Everly’s voice was weak again.

  “Just rest,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Everly smiled. “Thanks.”

  Her eyes drifted closed. After a moment, she opened them again. “What do we do now?”

  “We focus on you,” Wyatt said. He reached for her palm. “You are going to rest and get better.”

  She stroked the back of his hand. “And after that? What then?”

  That was the exact question Wyatt had been asking himself for almost an entire day. “It’s not safe for you to travel yet, with Darcy still at large. As far as we know, you’re the only person she’s tried to kill who survived. Until she’s caught, I’m not leaving your side. Once you can travel, I’ll go back to Chicago. And after she’s captured...” Pausing, he looked at his hands. Was he really ready to commit to Everly? He knew damn well that he wasn’t going to be able to let her walk out of his life again. He spoke. “After she’s captured, I’ll stay, that is, if you’ll have me.”

  “What about the search for Darcy? Don’t you want to get back out there and find her?”

  “Sure,” said Wyatt. “But sometimes priorities change.”

  Everly shook her head. “I don’t believe for a minute that you want to be in Chicago with me while the search for Darcy is happening in Wyoming.”

  “What I want doesn’t matter anymore,” he said. “I need to keep you safe. Dammit, Everly. You’ve become everything to me. I thought I lost you once.” His mind was filled with an image of her seemingly lifeless body as it hung from the rafters. Closing his eyes, he waited for the picture and ensuing feeling of loss and loneliness to pass. “I never want to lose you again.”

  Everly reached for his arm. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “You and I, we’re a team—a family. It doesn’t matter whether we’re in Chicago or here. There’s a lot to love about Pleasant Pines—like you.”

  Wyatt’s chest expanded until it ached. He took a knee beside her bed. Brushing the hair from her forehead, Wyatt placed a kiss on her brow. “I love you so much that it hurts.”

  “Oh, Wyatt,” she said, tracing his jaw with a light touch. “I love you, too.”

  “So that’s it?” he asked. “You’ll stay?”

  “There’s no place else I’d rather be than here, with you.” She paused and smiled. “Well, maybe not in the hospital, but you get my point.”

  He did indeed.

  He drew her into an embrace and his mouth laid claim to hers. And there, in the small and stuffy hospital room, their life could start fresh.

  The hunt could wait.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later

  Wyatt sat behind the desk and looked to the window. There was nothing beyond opaque glass for him to see. He missed the view from his house of the Rocky Mountains and the clear blue sky. At the same time, he reveled in his newfound purpose.

  Before Everly was released from the hospital, Marcus had again asked Wyatt to join RMJ. Without hesitation, he accepted.

  Chloe Ryder had hired RMJ to serve as the investigative body for the district attorney’s office and Wyatt’s first job would be to lead the hunt for the still at-large killer.

  “Knock, knock.”

  He recognized the voice without having to look.

  “Everly.” Wyatt sat at his desk, set within a cubicle in a large and open work space. Aside from Wyatt, the room was empty. All other operatives were out.

  “I know that you are still getting settled at work, but I wanted to bring a little something for your office.” She held out a white box with a big red bow. “I told Marcus I would be stopping by and he let me in,” she continued, explaining how she had circumvented RMJ’s extreme security.

  “Thanks,” he said as he lifted the lid. Inside was a framed photo of Everly and Gus, with the Rocky Mountains serving as the backdrop. His family. His home. Wyatt’s throat tightened a little.

  “Just a little reminder of what’s waiting for you at the end of the workday,” she said. “And speaking of workdays, I have my first Pleasant Pines client.”

  In the weeks since she decided to stay, she’d joined a public relations firm in Laramie, forty-five minutes south of town. It was a hefty commute and she planned to work from home as much as possible. Still, he was impressed that she’d already landed a local client.

  “Already? Who?”

  “The sheriff’s department,” she said. “The media coverage they’ve been getting has been awful. I have a meeting in a little bit with Chloe Ryder. Once we present our side of the events, the story will become more balanced.”

  Everly paused and Wyatt knew what she was thinking. He answered the question before she had a chance to ask. “There’s nothing new in the search for Darcy or her body,” he said.

  Everly gave a quick nod. “I wish we knew something,” she said. “That’s all.”

  He did as well, yet he said nothing. He set the photo on his desk. “I like the space better already.”

  “See you tonight?” she said.

  He wrapped his arms around Everly’s waist and pulled her onto his lap. Pressing his lips to hers, he gave her a languid kiss. “See you tonight.”

  He wanted to hold her forever, not just because she felt so damned nice in his arms, but because Darcy Owens was still out there—somewhere. Until they found the killer and put her in prison, nobody would be safe.

  The
hunt had begun again.

  This time it was more than about public safety and justice. For Wyatt, catching Darcy Owens was a personal fight. And he didn’t intend to lose.

  * * *

  Darcy awoke with a start. Her throat was parched. Her eyes were swollen. Her shoulder throbbed, and the stench of rot surrounded her. She sat up. Blinding pain split her skull and she leaned back with a groan.

  “You up?” a deep male voice asked.

  She opened her eyes the slightest bit. A hulking figure stood at the end of her bed. His face was covered in wiry, black hair. His eyes were just tiny dots and his mouth nothing more than a slash.

  “You up?” he asked again.

  “Yes,” she croaked.

  “Drink this,” he said. A large and powerful arm snaked behind Darcy’s back and lifted her. A cup was pressed to her lips and water trickled down her throat.

  The man stepped away and she sank into the pillow.

  “What happened?” she asked, her mind foggy.

  “You were shot,” said the man. “I found you in the woods and brought you here.”

  It all became clear and Darcy’s pulse began to race. Her shoulder pounded with each beat of her heart. “Where am I? How long have I been here?”

  “You’re in my bunker,” the man said. “I saw the news. It looks like you’re in a heap of trouble, so I haven’t said nothing to the police.”

  Darcy’s pulse slowed, more confused than thankful. “Why are you hiding me?”

  The hulking man said, “I’ve been in trouble with the law before. I won’t ever help those bastards.”

  Her eyes began to drift closed. She was still so tired.

  Wake up, the Darkness whispered in Darcy’s ear. She pried her lids open and her hand went to her throat. Cold and hard, a chain was bolted to her neck. Icy terror dropped into her middle.

  The large man grinned as her eyes went wide.

  “Who are you?” she asked. “What have you done?”

  “As far as who I am,” said the man. “I’m Billy Dawson. And what have I done?” He scratched his wiry beard. “Since I saved you, you owe me.”

  Darcy’s breath was trapped in her chest. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to breathe again.

  Look, the Darkness whispered in Darcy’s ear. There, in the corner, was an ax. The blade glinted in the firelight.

  If she wanted to survive, she’d have to do more than embrace the Darkness, but allow it to take over completely.

  “You’re right,” she said to the man. “You did rescue me. Without you, I’d either be dead or in jail.”

  He smiled, thinking that he’d somehow won.

  Flicking her gaze quickly to the ax, Darcy smiled, as well. Just as Billy had been her savior, she was certain to be his damnation.

  * * *

  The operatives of Rocky Mountain Justice

  are on the hunt for Darcy Owens!

  Look for the next thrilling installment of

  Wyoming Nights,

  Jennifer D. Bokal’s miniseries for

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense.

  Coming soon, wherever Harlequin books

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  Reunited by the Badge

  by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  Chapter 1

  Dr. Paul Reilly stood in front of his business-class seat, waiting anxiously to disembark the airplane. He’d been traveling for some thirty-plus hours, having started with an Air France flight from Accra, Ghana, to Paris, France, and ending with a Delta flight into Chicago. He was past the point of exhaustion and all he wanted was to be on firm ground, and home.

  The cell phone in his hand began to beep and vibrate, an influx of incoming messages finally getting through after he’d taken the device out of airplane mode. He stole a quick glance at the lengthy list to determine the urgency of his responding, or not, and then he dropped the unit into the inner breast pocket of his blazer.

  The line out of the aircraft began to move slowly. When he spied his first opportunity to make an exit, Paul stepped into the aisle. He reached for his carry-on bag out of the upper storage compartment and pushed forward, beating a woman who was whining about the heat and a couple with four unruly kids out the door. He moved swiftly down the Jetway to the terminal, exhaling a sigh of relief as he shifted out of the crowd toward the baggage reclaim area.

  As he waited for the airlines to engage the luggage carousel, he pulled his cell back into his hands and dialed one of the first numbers in his call list. His brother Oliver answered on the second ring.

  “Where are you?” Oliver questioned, a hint of stress in his tone.

  Paul took a deep breath. “The airport. I just landed.”

  “Did you get my text message?”

  “I got a few dozen. I haven’t had an opportunity to read any of them since I left Ghana.”

  “I sent you the lab results for those tissue samples you gave me. I haven’t had a chance to start testing the drug samples yet.”

  “And?”

  “And, something is definitely not right. But you have a bigger problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The samples have disappeared. All of them. The tissue samples and the drug products.”

  “What do you mean, disappeared?”

  “I mean someone took them and now they’re gone.”

  “But you have the results?”

  “No. You have the only results. I emailed them to you first thing, before I even looked at them. Once I did read them, I needed to do some additional testing, but before that could happen it all vanished. Including the original first round of test results!”

  “So, they got both shipments?”

  “Both? You sent more than one shipment of samples?”

  “Yeah. I mailed one to your office and I mailed the other to the house in Windsor, since I knew you had plans to be there.”

  “The Windsor shipment might be waiting for me, as long as no one knew you were sending it there.”

  Paul blew a soft sigh, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of what his brother was telling him. Dr. Oliver Reilly worked for the federal government. He was a cancer research scientist reporting to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Like his brother, Paul had a medical degree, but specialized in emergency care and family practice. He’d chosen to be a public health pra
ctitioner over private practice.

  Paul trusted Oliver, one of only a few people he knew who would have his back, whatever the situation. “Did you discuss this with anyone?”

  “No. Not a soul. Which is also why I didn’t file a police report. Whoever knew the samples were here, also knew you sent them. Whoever took them has access to the government labs because there isn’t an ounce of evidence to point toward a break-in. Now, I’m not one for conspiracy theories, but something’s going on.”

  Paul took another deep breath. The carousel had just begun to spin, the passengers from his international flight crowding around like a herd of cattle waiting for something to happen. As the first bags appeared out of a hole in the rear wall, the group drew closer, preparing to snatch their possessions as quickly as they could.

  Oliver called his name. “Paul! You still there?”

  “Sorry, yeah. Just trying to think.”

  “Look, I’m here to help any way I can. But, this feels like it might be more than either one of us can handle. Have you talked to anyone? The police? An attorney, maybe?”

  Paul shook his head, oblivious to the fact his brother couldn’t see him through the telephone line. His eyes were skating over the crowd, a sense of unease beginning to swell in his midsection. He was suddenly feeling slightly paranoid, like he needed to be looking over his shoulder. “I’ve got to run. I’ll call you as soon as I get to the house.”

  “Be careful, please,” Oliver admonished as the line disconnected in his ear.

  Minutes later, Paul sat in the back of an Uber. His preferred driver, a grandmother from the island of Haiti, was chatting him up about his trip. The older woman had been driving him back and forth for the last year, her wide smile always a welcome sight whether he was coming or going.

  “You need a wife,” she said, the comment coming out of left field.

  Paul laughed. “Why would I want to do something like that?”