Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set

by Addison Fox, Cindy Dees, Justine Davis

  She wasn’t a civilian, untrained in the world of criminal minds and the violent acts that stemmed from those places. She also wasn’t ignorant of what went into his life day by day. The TV cop shows had it wrong. What looked like a life of swift action on a screen resembled that far less often in real life. Instead, he made his life on the tiresome reality of repeat offenders, avoidable crimes and endless reams of paperwork.

  All while praying like crazy he’d avoid too many experiences like the rescue at the lake and the subsequent attack at the hospital.

  The oven timer dinged and Sadie pulled out the cookie sheet of french fries. “These smell delicious.” She smiled. “A most excellent idea for dinner.”

  “I have a few every now and again.”

  Sadie had already fixed her burger and, after scooping some fries into a bowl, met him at the kitchen table. He was pleased to see her navigate her way around his home, comfortable even if she didn’t fully realize it.

  He snatched a fry, happy that she’d salted them perfectly.

  “So what did you want to show me?” she asked.

  “Don’t you want to eat?”

  “I can eat and listen at the same time.” She dipped a fry in ketchup. “I want to hear your theories. See if they match any of my own.”

  “Okay.” He pulled his empty plate from earlier closer and grabbed a further handful of fries for himself. “I feel like catching Matthews is the key to all this.”

  “Abigail’s father is the linchpin.”

  “You think so, too?”

  “I do.” Sadie set down her burger and wiped her fingers on her napkin before continuing. “I talked to my sisters about it. Vikki in particular, who’s the closest to Brody and knows how scared he is, is putting a lot of hope in the scheme Riley and Ashanti have cooked up.”

  “It’s good. They know what’s needed to both reel him in and do it in a way that makes sure Matthews can’t get off on a technicality later.”

  “My brother does good work.”

  “He does.”

  Tripp considered the man he’d come to know since joining the GRPD. Riley Colton was rock-solid. He’d started Colton Investigations after Graham Colton’s murder and, like many others in local law enforcement, Tripp had carried a bit of skepticism the job choice was fully altruistic. The trauma of one’s parents’ murders would leave anyone raw, wounded, and seeking a path for vengeance.

  Only, Colton had done the opposite. He’d built a strong business, steeped in preparation, an ability to follow procedure, and exceedingly good instincts.

  Tripp had seen it firsthand—and had been forced to eat a rather large serving of crow—on one of the first cases Riley had helped GRPD with, about four months after founding CI. They’d had a low-level drug trafficker who’d suddenly increased business a thousandfold. The entire PD, out en masse, had been trying to figure out where the thug secured his access and his supply. It was Colton who’d traced the details back to a dealer in Chicago who’d set Grand Rapids in his sights as part of an expansion effort.

  And it was Riley Colton who’d uncovered the information in a careful and methodical way. One that had allowed the GRPD and the Feds to put the trafficker and the dealer in Chicago in prison for life.

  “Colton Investigations is a top-notch organization,” Tripp added. “I’ve always thought so, but the respect he commands from the rest of the GRPD as well as the FBI is all further proof of that.”

  “As the oldest, Riley remembers more of my father’s stories than the rest of us. He knew the cases that made our dad so mad. The ones where a criminal got off on a technicality or a lapse in procedure.”

  “That’ll shape a person.”

  “It certainly did shape Riley.”

  Without knowing where the question came from, Tripp pressed her. “And what about you? What shaped you and made you want to join the GRPD?”

  Sadie stared down at her plate, toying with a fry before looking back up at him. “My parents were still alive when I went into the academy. So I can’t say it’s their deaths that gave me any sort of calling to law enforcement.”

  “What did give the calling?”

  “I’m not sure.” Her gaze dropped back to the fry, which she swirled in ketchup. Although Tripp could only see a partial view of her face, he didn’t miss the emotions that furrowed her brow. And when she finally looked back up, he sensed a change in her.

  Just like earlier, he felt it once more. As if she’d come to some sort of decision and was ready to share it with him.

  “That’s not entirely true. I do know. I was a bit aimless after high school. I was a good student. One of the best, actually. But I was mousy and my head was always buried in a book. I was sort of your classic nerd.”

  “I’m struggling to believe that.”

  “Well, believe it. I had a glamourous twin and I was the proverbial ugly duckling.”

  Tripp couldn’t see it, but he knew he had no place to argue with her. He also knew the ideas she carried contributed to who she was. How she saw herself. And while she might no longer look like that forlorn teenager, the experience was no less real to her.

  While he simply waited for her to continue, those emotions continued to play over her face. For as open and caring as Sadie was, Tripp realized that he very rarely saw her emotions. She had a surprisingly strong poker face, easily conveying her concerns for others while keeping her own emotions firmly locked down.

  “Anyway, I was a nerdy kid and I wasn’t ready to go to college. I wanted to, but something kept holding me back.”

  When she didn’t elaborate, Tripp sensed it wasn’t his place to ask. But he wanted to. And in the wanting, he realized just how badly he wanted to know her. All of her.

  That was why, once again, he kept his thoughts to himself. He didn’t share the intimate details of his life and he had no right to pry into hers.

  But that didn’t make the wanting less intense. Or make the interest fade away.

  “Vikki was all excited about going into the Army and I wanted to share that excitement, only I didn’t have it. I had the grades, but not the gumption.”

  “Gumption for what?”

  “To leave Grand Rapids. To go out in the world. Even if it were just a few hours away at a state school. So I stayed. I took community college courses on subjects I really didn’t care about and all the while wondered when I’d finally find something I did care about.”

  “What flipped the switch?”

  “I started working out at the community college. I had a three-hour stretch between two of my classes. It didn’t make sense to come home, and the classes weren’t hard enough to bother with studying in the library. So I went to the gym. I started on the treadmill and worked my way up to weights. And the whole time, there was this woman there who was about my age. And she was always working really hard and seemed really focused. We struck up a conversation one day and she mentioned that she was applying to the academy.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Rosie Archer. Now Rosie Santorini.”

  Tripp knew Rosie. She was one of his best detectives. She’d fast-tracked into her role as detective, a product of that hard work and determination Sadie mentioned. “That’s an outstanding role model if I’ve ever seen one.”

  “She was. And she introduced me to a new career path. Every time I’d thought about college, it was through the lens of accounting or finance or something in the legal field. It never crossed my mind that I could make a go of things on the other side, focused on law enforcement.”

  “So you applied to the academy?”

  “I did, but not at first. First, I was determined to get the education I needed. Now that I had a different purpose, I shifted into civics classes. If I was going to catch bad guys for a living, I wanted to make sure I understood the legal reasons why. And after I did that, I applied to the aca
demy.”

  “Yet you ended up in CSI.”

  Sadie smiled at that, the first real smile he’d seen since they’d started their discussion. “Just one more tumbler in the lock.”

  “How so?”

  “So I mentioned I was a reader…”

  “Sure.” He nodded, not sure where she was going but also recognizing what might appear aimless to others was all part of a definitive path for Sadie Colton.

  “Once I realized that there was a way to use my love of mysteries and clues in my job. I was a goner.”

  “Nancy Drew’s got nothing on you?”

  “Something like that.”

  Sadie’s smile fell, her expression changing so fast that Tripp’s pulse kicked up several notches. “What is it?”

  “Do you smell it?”

  She was already on her feet, moving toward the sliding glass doors that led to the back patio, when Tripp scented the mix of fire and gasoline. But it was the bright flicker through the window, visible over her shoulder, that had Tripp standing, as well.

  “Tripp!” Sadie turned from the window. “The house is on fire!”

  CHAPTER 12

  Sadie struggled to get her bearings, the scents of gas and smoke so overwhelming she fought off a wave of dizziness. How had it happened so fast? One moment she and Tripp were talking and the next, they were simply overpowered. Tripp had already moved, his chair overturned where he’d pushed back from the kitchen table. After assessing the situation out the kitchen window, he’d gone to the front of the house to evaluate the damage.

  All while she continued to stare out the window into the backyard.

  There was something out there. Something more than fire. She knew it deep down in her bones.

  Tate was out there.

  “The fire’s surrounding the house.” Tripp raced back into the kitchen, the vivid flames outside the window tossing an odd glow over his features. “Sadie. Did you hear me?”

  “Tate is outside.”

  “What?”

  “Tate. He did that. That’s why the fire is everywhere. Front and back in equal measure. He set it, Tripp.”

  She’d barely finished the words when Tripp’s hand closed over hers, pulling her toward the front door. “We have to get out of here. Wrap up in a blanket and I’ll carry our coats.”

  Sadie felt herself being led, the firm grip of his fingers like a vise over hers. He barreled through the living room toward the front foyer, pulling a blanket off the couch as they moved before stopping at the closet to drag out their jackets. With deft movements, he wrapped a thick scarf over his hand to open the front door.

  Thoughts swimming, Sadie heard a voice almost outside of herself. “Tripp! No!”

  With a force she had no idea she possessed, she clamped her free hand down over his wrist, dragging on their joined hands to keep him from opening the front door.

  “Sadie! We have to get out of here.”

  “You can’t go that way.”

  Smoke already filled the room and Tripp’s gaze darted from her to the door and back again. “We have to get out.”

  “That’s what Tate wants. There’s no way he’s letting us out of here. Either we burn inside or he’ll smoke us out and take us down in plain sight. That’s why the flames are all over. We can’t go that way.”

  “Then we’ll go out the back.”

  “How do we know his goons aren’t with him?”

  It was a factor they had to consider. Although the takedown at Sand Springs Lake had also secured several of Tate’s goons, they had to assume he had more.

  And if he had more, they had to assume those men were also waiting outside the ring of fire consuming the house.

  “The basement.”

  Tripp shook his head. “We don’t have time.”

  With the smoke already impossibly thickening, they’d have to crawl into the center of the house to reach the basement door.

  “It’s our only way. You’ve got storm doors to get outside, right?”

  It was a silly fact but one she’d thank herself for later if they got out of this alive. Sadie had always been intrigued by the idea of storm cellar doors that closed into the ground. The houses in this neighborhood were known for that feature.

  “Yeah.”

  “We’ll get outside that way. They won’t expect us and you can get a better lay of the land.”

  “And if the fire’s outside the perimeter of the cellar’s storm doors?”

  “We’ll take our chances.”

  He looked about to argue but Sadie rolled right over any objection, screaming to be heard over the roar of the fire, “Get your weapon.”

  Tripp turned back to the closet and pulled out his service revolver before reaching deeper inside. He pulled out an extra gun and handed it over. “You still know how to use one of these?” he screamed.

  She avoided the eye roll—well aware it would be barely visible through the smoke anyway—and took the gun. “I’m all set.”

  It was only then that the lights in the house flickered before going fully dark.

  Tripp’s hand on her wrist shifted, his fingers lacing with hers. “Get on the floor and stay close to me.”

  In the thick, dark smoke, they began to crawl for the interior of the house. It was the exact opposite choice of every instinct she possessed to get outside.

  But, in her gut, Sadie knew it was their only shot at survival.

  * * *

  Tripp mentally counted off the distance from the foyer to the basement door. It was off the hallway to a downstairs bedroom and, while it likely wasn’t more than twenty feet, it felt like a mile. Smoke billowed so thick above them, he could only marvel at the fire’s deadly speed.

  But he took comfort from the steady presence of Sadie by his side where her arm brushed against his calf as they crawled toward their goal.

  The noise and heat of the flames whirled around them, the blaze angry and shockingly loud. Along with the furious lap of the flames, the sounds of his house breaking and burning around him echoed in his ears like a raging nightmare. Still, he moved forward, determinedly onward toward the basement door and what he hoped was safety.

  His shoulder hit the corner of the wall, but Tripp ignored the pain. That corner meant they’d turned the last few feet into the correct hallway. Reaching back, he felt for Sadie’s shoulder so he could lean in as close as possible.

  “We’re at the door. I don’t know how long the frame will hold, so you have to move across the basement as fast as you can.” He shouted the words and still wasn’t sure she’d heard them all through the rushing and whirling of flame. But he had to hope she understood. And what she’d missed, he’d manage himself, weaving a path through his basement.

  With the scarf wrapped around his hand, he turned the knob. Darkness yawned beneath him but he had the sense of fresh, albeit musty, air. “Hold the handrail.”

  He felt Sadie brush past him in the dark before he reached out and closed the door behind them. The fire was gaining and it was only a matter of a few minutes before the house collapsed in on itself. Tripp was determined not to focus on that. The air was cleaner here and they’d make it.

  They had to.

  “I’m at the bottom.” Sadie’s voice floated over him, a disembodied sound that echoed off the thick concrete of the basement. Tripp took the last step, his feet touching the reassuring strength of the concrete. He grabbed her hand once more, his fingers tightening over hers just as a loud crash echoed above them.

  The floorboards above their heads groaned with the weight and Tripp tightened his grip. “Let’s go.”

  “Can we follow a wall?”

  “We have to walk straight through the center. The stairs leading up and outside are directly opposite. It’s the quickest way.”

  As if to punctuate his point, the floor
boards groaned again, the wood above them coming to life with fire. It wasn’t much—and the flames only added to the danger—but they also added the slightest bit of light.

  “Come on!”

  Tripp navigated them through the dark, desperately trying to picture the items he had scattered around the basement. There was a weight bench, which he remembered only as his shin connected with a rack of hand weights. Ignoring the throbbing pain, he moved Sadie deftly around the object and toward the stairs.

  That terrible groaning continued above them and as the fire spread, the flames added light to their way. Tripp could finally see the stairs in front of them, the concrete at their feet devoid of any further obstacles.

  “There, Sadie!”

  “I see it.”

  With the way visible, Tripp ran them toward the stairs, the heavy creaking finally growing too much. He heard the cracking house above him, shuddering as the structural damage finally caused the wood frame to give way.

  Sadie screamed and he practically threw her into the stairwell as the burning house fell into the basement around them.

  Smoke rushed into their alcove along with an intense heat Tripp had never felt before. It was like being inside an oven, and he knew they wouldn’t be able to withstand it for much longer. Pushing past Sadie up the concrete steps, his hand hit the underside of the storm door and he felt around for the latch to unlock it.

  “Tripp!” Sadie shouted from behind him as the flames leaped further into the stairwell, lapping at them with hungry hands.

  Tripp dropped the coats he still carried onto the top stair. He fumbled with the metal lock that kept the storm doors barred from external intruders, working it with frantic fingers when the bolt didn’t want to budge. The frigid temperatures outside had made it hard to move and the lock seemed impervious to the heat steadily climbing behind them.

  “Tripp!”

  As Sadie’s panicked scream washed over him once more, Tripp felt the latch give way. On a thick, heavy squeak, the door lifted in his hands. The snow that had lay more than a foot deep on the ground added to the weight, but Tripp ignored it all as sweet, fresh air swept into the ever-widening opening.