by Laura Scott
Copyright © 2021 by Jessica R. Patch
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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“We’ll get through this...”
“Is this another one of your famous promises?”
Liam didn’t answer and instead looked at Paige’s right arm, trussed up in a sling. “This is going to be a little tricky.”
“You ought to get out of here. Wait for the police, the bomb squad. No sense in both of us...” She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to.
The grim line of Liam’s lips told her what he thought of her suggestion.
“You think I’d leave you?” Outrage rimmed every syllable.
No. She didn’t. Afraid to say anything more, she shook her head. At the same time, she bit down on her lip. Hard. The pain gave her something to focus on rather than the fear that crawled up her spine to settle at the base of her neck.
Buck up, girl. You’ve faced down terrorists, gunrunners and smugglers. What’s one itty-bitty bomb?
“On the count of three, be ready.”
“For what?”
“This.” With that, he grabbed her good arm and yanked her from the seat before she knew what was happening.
Jane M. Choate dreamed of writing from the time she was a small child when she entertained friends with outlandish stories complete with happily-ever-after endings. Writing for Love Inspired Suspense is a dream come true. Jane is the proud mother of five children, grandmother to ten grandchildren and staff to one cat who believes she is of royal descent.
Books by Jane M. Choate
Love Inspired Suspense
Keeping Watch
The Littlest Witness
Shattered Secrets
High-Risk Investigation
Inherited Threat
Stolen Child
Secrets from the Past
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
Secrets from the Past
Jane M. Choate
For thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give it: thou delightest not in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.
—Psalm 51:16–17
I wrote this book during the pandemic. During that time, I marveled at the heroes and heroines who stepped forward: nurses and doctors, truck drivers and store clerks, farmers and ranchers, all of whom our nation, indeed, our world, depended upon. We did not need movie stars or sports figures or politicians; we needed the working people, those who did their jobs so that the rest of us could continue with our lives as normally as possible. This book is for them and for all of those who kept the rest of us going.
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Dear Reader
ONE
Bam.
The crunch of metal against metal sent the Suburban careening to the far edge of the highway.
The car fishtailed as Liam McKenzie struggled to get it under control. The tricked-out truck that had picked up their tail while Liam was driving his son to preschool and was even now giving chase showed no signs of easing up. If he didn’t lose it soon, it would send his car straight over the sheer cliff flanking one side of the narrow road.
“Daddy, I’m scared.”
Jonah’s plaintive words jammed Liam’s heart in his throat. Liam was scared, too. Not for himself, but for his five-year-old son, the most important person in his life. “I’m scared, too, but it’ll be okay.”
“Promise?” The two syllables sent his heartbeat into overdrive.
“Promise.” He hoped he could make good on his words.
Army Deltas typically ran into danger, not away from it. But ex–Delta operator Liam McKenzie was doing just that—running from danger, against every instinct, every piece of training he’d ever received. He hadn’t used any of his Delta training since leaving the army and starting up his software company, but it was still very much a part of him. Maybe that was why he’d agreed to meet with a member of the US Marshal Service about possibly accepting a job. He wanted to put his highly honed skills to use. More, he wanted to make the world a better place, a safer place for his son and for everyone else.
But none of that was important. Not now. Keeping Jonah safe was all that Liam cared about. Even when every fiber of him was urging him to turn his vehicle around and give chase to the men who were doing their best to run him off the road.
The worry in Jonah’s eyes lightened. “Why are those men trying to push us off the road?”
Jonah’s curiosity was one of his most endearing qualities, but Liam didn’t have the time or energy to answer. Not now. Not when everything in him was focused on getting his son to safety.
“I don’t know.” That wasn’t strictly the truth, as Liam had a pretty good idea why someone wanted to run them off the road.
“If you don’t know, nobody knows, because you’re the smartest daddy in the whole world.”
Despite the grim circumstances, Liam had to smile. Jonah’s faith in him gave him the courage he needed to keep going. It was a touchstone, a reminder of all that was good in the world. He needed that now, desperately needed it, as he raced to find a way to save their lives.
A small opening in the bushes on the other side of the road presented an escape. He pressed down harder on the accelerator, swerved sharply across the road before the pickup rounded the curve and pulled into it, hoping the bushes would obscure his vehicle.
A deep breath later, the pickup sped on down the road, leaving Liam free to turn around and head in the opposite direction. It would take another half hour to get home—preschool was forgotten—but it was worth it if it spared Jonah any more distress.
Liam was ready to face what had to be faced. He’d served for eight years in hot spots all over the world and had never been as shaking-in-his-boots scared as he was now. He didn’t know a man could be that scared and still breathe.
Jonah’s safety, his very life, depended upon what Liam did next. Someone was trying to get to him, and if they hurt Jonah in the process, well, so much the better.
No!
Come after me, he wanted to shout. Not my son.
Only a coward would try to harm a child. Liam had plenty of experience in dealing with cowards, those who used the innocents of the world for their own vile purposes, warlords and insurgents who hid out in schools and hospitals, knowing that the American troops wouldn’t attack.
A trickle of sweat worked its way down his back. He’d have decked anyone who called him a coward, but he was acting like one now.
He had to get Jonah somewhere safe, somewhere the people who
were after Liam couldn’t get to his son. The knowledge that someone wanted him dead and was willing to kill his son along with him shook him to the core.
Fear for his son hardened his resolve. Jonah had to be protected. At any cost.
Liam McKenzie didn’t give in. And he didn’t give up.
But right now he needed help in the worst way. Admitting he needed help didn’t come easily. Not for Liam. Not for any special ops soldier who did his best to keep his country safe from the world’s bullies. If keeping Jonah safe meant asking for it, then that’s what he’d do.
He’d learned of S&J Security/Protection through buddies with whom he’d served. They hired ex–special operators, as well as former DEA, FBI, and ATF agents, like Paige Walker, the little sister of a friend from high school.
He called S&J and spoke to the founder Shelley Rabb Judd. “I need help,” he said. After explaining his problem, he added, “I knew Paige Walker in high school. If she’s available, I’d appreciate having her assigned to my case.”
A pause. “I think we can arrange for Paige to help you.”
Pride had no place when it came to keeping his son safe from harm. He’d ask for her help—he’d beg if necessary. Protecting Jonah was the only thing that mattered.
Whatever the cost.
* * *
Paige Walker covertly studied S&J’s newest client. Liam McKenzie. From the moment Shelley had given her the name, memories from fifteen years ago rushed back.
The jagged scar from a football injury in his senior year was still there, bisecting his left eyebrow. That captain-of-the-varsity-football-team face was even more handsome now. And the blue-green eyes were the same as those belonging to the boy she remembered, the boy she’d had a crush on so many years ago.
If the boy had been handsome, the man was now compelling. Crinkles at the corners of his eyes showed up white against a wind-scoured complexion, hinting at many hours spent outdoors. His once-blond hair had darkened to the color of wheat, and the planes and angles of his face had grown more defined. It was his eyes that had changed the most, though, holding both compassion and wisdom that had been lacking in the younger Liam.
She’d heard that he’d joined the army and had made Delta, then started his own software company when he’d left the army. She watched as he scanned the room, dividing it into grids, she thought—a way of life for him, ex-Delta or not. The soldier was still in the man whether or not he wore the uniform. The stoic countenance and the quiet watchfulness were unmistakable.
To her mortification, her heart had picked up its beat, her breathing quickening. Could he detect the rapid rhythm of the pulse at the base of her neck? She was a professional, a trained agent. Agents didn’t get all gooey-eyed over a long-ago crush. Agents didn’t allow foolish schoolgirl feelings to interfere with work. Agents didn’t feel any of the things she was feeling at this moment.
Enough.
Resolutely, she put the past where it belonged and prayed that her boss, Shelley, hadn’t noticed her consternation. The last thing Paige wanted was for her boss to witness her acting unprofessionally. Her job at S&J Security/Protection was a safe haven in the chaos her life had become after she’d left the ATF.
So start acting like the operative you are and quit mooning about the past.
She listened as Liam recounted the last month and a half. Three of their former classmates had recently died in suspicious accidents. As soon as he mentioned their names, Paige knew the connection—they were all survivors of the bus crash that had killed her brother and four other students. When Liam added the attack on him and Jonah, she leaned forward.
“Where’s Jonah now?” Paige asked.
“I took him to my parents’ place in Savannah. He’ll be safe there, and they love when he visits.”
“Did you tell your parents what was going on?” Shelley asked.
“Only the bare bones. They knew something was up, but I didn’t want to worry them more than was necessary.”
He pinched the skin between his brows, released it. The small gesture was telling—he was worried but wanted to spare his parents the same. It reminded her of the boy she’d known from high school, the one who put others first. “What about the police? Have you told them?”
“I tried, but they brushed it off. I didn’t have enough evidence—in fact, I don’t have any at all—to prove that the deaths are related, much less murder. So far, everything has been made to look like an accident. One was a fall. Another died in a diving accident, and a third when an electrical short caused a fire in his house.”
“The police didn’t see the connection?” Shelley asked, a line forming between her brows.
“If I weren’t part of it, I don’t think I’d see the connection. Just three random accidents of people who happened to have been in the same class a decade and a half ago.”
Would he share the details of that long-ago accident with Shelley?
“Fifteen years ago, I was in a school bus accident,” he told Shelley. “The driver fell asleep, and the bus went over a bridge into a river. Five kids died. I was the strongest swimmer and, along with a couple of other boys, was able to save several kids, but we couldn’t save everyone. I think this is payback.”
“For you and the other survivors?” Shelley asked.
“It makes sense,” Paige said.
Paige saw Liam’s gaze on her. What did he want her to say? She couldn’t fathom the expression in his eyes. “My brother died in the accident, too,” she told Shelley. She’d never shared that with anyone at work. It was time she did.
Shelley reached for Paige’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”
“Can you help me?” he asked after a moment’s pause. “Before anyone else dies.” The words were choked out, causing Paige to wince in sympathy.
“You came to the right place, Mr. McKenzie.” Shelley stood. “Paige is one of our best operatives. She’ll keep you safe and help you figure out who’s behind this.” She turned to Paige. “Show Mr. McKenzie to your office. Come up with a plan and then get back to me.”
Paige stood, as well. “Liam, come with me.” Inside her office, she gestured to a chair. It was a bare-bones room, with little of herself in it. She liked it that way. At work, she wasn’t reminded of the heartache of the past.
A utilitarian desk with one chair behind it and another in front plus a file cabinet were the only furnishings. She gestured to the uncomfortable-looking visitors’ chair. The hard-backed chair minus cushions kept people from lingering.
Paige perched on the edge of the desk and gave him a moment to settle himself, taking the opportunity to study him. He hadn’t changed much. Still drop-dead handsome. Still tall with the rangy good looks that had set most of the high school girls to daydreaming about him. His shoulders had broadened, his waist narrowed, the muscles hinted at in the boy he’d been more defined.
But if she were to point to the one thing that set him apart from the Liam McKenzie of fifteen years ago, it was his eyes. They were shadowed now, holding depths of hard-won experience and more than a little pain.
“Are you absolutely certain this is about the accident all those years ago? That’s a long time to hold a grudge.” Even as she said the words, she recognized that fifteen years was nothing in the South, where memories were long with feuds dating back several generations.
“The deaths you’ve described are very different. I’m not saying you’re mistaken,” she said when he would have protested, “but it’s a stretch. Statistically, in any group, you’re going to have deaths, whether they be due to a fall or diving accident or a fire.”
“There’s a pattern here, outside the attack on me and my son,” he insisted. “I know it. I feel it.”
“We need more information, something that points to these deaths being related to the bus accident.”
“If they’re not rela
ted, I’m more at a loss than ever. But it’s too much of a coincidence to believe that three of the survivors have died in the last six weeks unconnected with each other.”
“Have any of the other survivors died? Or just those three?”
“Six weeks ago, Sam Newley died, but of natural causes. He had leukemia. It was only a matter of time. I attended the funeral, along with several others from my class.” Liam shook his head several times as though to erase a painful memory. When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, his eyes were bleak. “Sam was a good guy, always looking for the best in others. I’m glad he can’t see what’s going on now.”
Since Liam and the others of his class were five years older than her, she had to search her memory for a picture of Sam to bring up. Tall. Nerdy. Not handsome, but nice. “So, as far as you know, the others are still alive.”
“That’s right. With Sam gone and now these so-called accidents taking three others, that leaves six of us.” A grim smile tipped his lips. “I don’t want to wait around to see who’s next.”
“Are you close to any of the survivors?”
“We used to meet every so often. We vowed we would all do something important with our lives, a kind of pledge to honor those who died. For a while, we’d get together every year.”
“That’s great.” For years after the accident, she’d longed to connect with someone who had been there with Brett during his last moments. Her parents had all but shut down emotionally after losing their only son. They’d refused to talk about Brett, refused to listen to her memories as she tried to keep him alive.
There’d been no time or patience for their daughter’s tears and grief. Eventually, she’d learned to keep both to herself. Brett lived on because love lived on.
She’d loved her big brother with all her heart and still did. He had been not only her brother but also her best friend. Being two years younger than even the freshmen, she’d had little interaction with them. For the most part, they’d shunned her, treating her as an oddity at best, and, at worst, a pariah, one who skewed the curve with her remarkable mind.
