Witness in Hiding

by Lisa Phillips

  Her lips parted and a low groan emerged from her throat.

  “Zoe?”

  Her eyes flickered and she focused on him. Her eyes darted to Tyler, then she relaxed.

  “Everything’s okay,” Jude said. “It’s over now.”

  Zoe let out a breath. “Hi.”

  Jude smiled. “Hi, yourself.” He moved closer to her.

  Tyler frowned. “Are you going to kiss?”

  He stilled. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten Tyler was there, he’d just gotten caught up in Zoe. It was a problem he’d hoped that he’d have to get used to. He glanced at the boy. “Why? You got a problem with it?”

  “It’s gross.”

  Zoe’s breathy chuckle reached his ears. Jude glanced at her. “I guess we know how he feels about it.”

  “Just don’t do it when I’m watching, okay?” the boy said, far more relaxed now that they knew his mom was all right.

  “Not sure I can make that promise, bud.” He glanced at Zoe and saw that she was smiling, as well. “Ready to go?”

  “Where?”

  He picked her up out of the car. Grunted.

  “I can walk.”

  “I know.”

  “You have a head injury.”

  “And a big bruise under my vest from where Beatrice shot me. I’m fine.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “Where are we going?”

  Jude strode toward Milsner. Alan and Beatrice were likely using the ambulance, given their injuries had been far more extensive. Maybe his colleague would let Jude borrow his vehicle.

  Tyler tucked his hand in Jude’s biceps as they walked.

  “Jude?” Zoe asked.

  “Yes, my love?”

  Her smile nearly made him trip, but he kept his feet as she said, “Where are we going?”

  “Anywhere you want.”

  “I love you.”

  Thankfully Tyler didn’t think that was gross.

  Jude caught her gaze and replied, “Good. Because I love you, as well.”

  EPILOGUE

  Five months later

  Zoe crossed the grass between the church and Jude’s tree house. It was a little chilly, but fall had turned the leaves to browns and oranges that she loved. Not to mention Leanne kept baking pumpkin-flavored everything. It was the best time of year, as far as Zoe was concerned. Though she did love Christmas.

  The closer she got to the tree house, the more she could hear whispering voices coming from inside.

  What were they up to?

  Lately things had been a little tense. Ever since Jude had found out he was being transferred to the Secret Service office in Washington, DC. It was a huge move, and she was so proud of him. Everyone said he was young to be given this opportunity, as though they were trying to convince her it was a good thing. Why would she not think that?

  Still, the worries lingered. He hadn’t specifically asked her to go with him, and lately he’d begun to talk about their future in vague terms, though he was always quick to tell her he loved her.

  She reached for the lowest rung of the ladder, then bit her lip. If he broke up with her and left, Tyler would be crushed. And, yes, she would be, as well. But Jude was her son’s best friend now. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if they were torn apart.

  The tear escaped before she could call it back.

  Jude’s face popped out of the doorway. “What’s taking so—” He frowned. “Zoe?”

  She swiped the tear away, but it was too late. He’d seen it.

  “You should come up here.”

  “Yeah, Mom!” Tyler called from inside. “Get up here!”

  Not wanting to disappoint her son, Zoe climbed the ladder. Before she could ask why the inside was full of battery operated Christmas lights when it wasn’t even Halloween, Jude touched her cheek. He leaned his face close to hers. It was obvious in the concern on his face that he could see she was sad. “I love you.”

  Zoe nodded. “I know.”

  He told her often. So why did that make her sad? She didn’t even want to contemplate the fact that he might move to the East Coast and leave her and Tyler here. She loved him so much it would hurt to be apart.

  “I want to show you something.” His lips curled up into a small smile, and he motioned to the inside of the tree house.

  She shuffled through the doorway and folded her legs under her. “What’s with the Christmas...” Zoe frowned. “A cake?” Like she hadn’t eaten enough cake, cookies and pastries in the past month? He should probably have gotten her a gym membership instead.

  “Frosted pumpkin-spice cake.” Why was Jude so happy about that?

  “Read the words, Mom.” Tyler was bouncing.

  She glanced at Jude, then leaned forward to read the words iced on the cake.

  Will you marry me?

  “Say yes!” Her son bounced over and collided with her, knocking her into the man she loved as Tyler said, “Jude wants to be my dad, and I want him to, so you have to say yes!”

  Jude’s arms went around both of them. “You have to let her answer, Ty.”

  Zoe’s heart filled with so much love it felt like it was going to burst. He wasn’t going to leave without her and Tyler and go live some other life of his own? Since Nathan had done that, it had been her biggest fear of this relationship. She shut her eyes as emotion flowed through her. The reassurance of Jude’s love for her overwhelmed her, as God’s love for her also had.

  Zoe started to sob, then groaned because she couldn’t stop it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to say yes, and they would kiss, and instead she was crying.

  Jude’s arms tightened and Tyler climbed off her lap. “Uh...Mom?”

  “Don’t mind me. I’m just having a mental breakdown.”

  Jude’s chest shifted with his chuckle.

  She glanced up at him. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “How about you answer the question?” The gleam in his eyes was beautiful, and she was pleased to be the one who put it there. She wanted to always make him this happy.

  “Yes, Jude. I’ll marry you.”

  Tyler squealed, and launched himself at them. They collapsed in a tangle of limbs and laughter, but Zoe made sure she got a kiss to seal the deal.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this book, look for the

  other titles by Lisa Phillips in the

  SECRET SERVICE AGENTS miniseries:

  SECURITY DETAIL

  HOMEFRONT DEFENDERS

  YULETIDE SUSPECT

  Available now from Love Inspired Suspense!

  Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MISSION TO PROTECT by Terri Reed.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for taking the time to read this book. I so appreciate you, and the fact that it is an investment of your time and money each time I write a story. I hope you were entertained by Zoe and Jude’s journey to being a family.

  The past hurt Zoe had experienced colored the way she saw the world—especially men—and how she saw the Lord. But God brought her through a journey that enabled her to trust Him and find happiness for her and her son, with Jude. He is a gracious Father who loves to draw us to Himself, and I am thankful for that every day.

  If you have any comments or questions, I would love to hear from you! Feel free to email me at lisaphillipsbks@gmail.com and visit my website, where you can sign up for my newsletter: www. authorlisaphillips.com.

  Sincerely,

  Li
sa Phillips

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.

  You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired Suspense every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Join Harlequin My Rewards and reward the book lover in you!

  Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever and whenever you shop.

  Turn your points into FREE BOOKS of your choice

  OR

  EXCLUSIVE GIFTS from your favorite authors or series.

  Click here to join for FREE

  Or visit us online to register at

  www.HarlequinMyRewards.com

  Harlequin My Rewards is a free program (no fees) without any commitments or obligations.

  Mission to Protect

  by Terri Reed

  ONE

  The back door of Canyon Air Force Base’s military working-dog training facility stood open. It should have been closed and locked tight.

  Alarm slithered through lead trainer Master Sergeant Westley James like the venomous red, yellow and black coral snake inhabiting this part of Texas.

  Something was wrong.

  As he entered the building an eerie chill went down his neck that had nothing to do with the April early-morning air. The stillness echoed through the center as loud as a jet taking off. His pulse spiked. He rushed to the kennel room and drew up short.

  The kennels were empty. All of them.

  Lying on the floor in a pool of blood were the two night-shift dog trainers, Airman Tamara Peterson and Airman Landon Martelli. Each had been shot in the chest.

  Grief clutched at Westley’s heart. Careful not to disturb the scene, he checked for pulses. None.

  They had both been murdered.

  Under the left arms of Tamara and Landon were a red rose and a folded white note, the calling card of a notorious serial killer.

  Horror slammed into him. The news report he’d heard this morning on his way to work had become reality.

  Boyd Sullivan, aka the Red Rose Killer, had escaped prison and was back on base.

  * * *

  Staff Sergeant Felicity Monroe jerked awake to the fading sound of her own scream echoing in her head. Sweat drenched her nightshirt. The pounding of her heart hurt in her chest, making bile rise to burn her throat. Darkness surrounded her.

  Where was she? Fear locked on to her like a guided missile and wouldn’t let go. Panic fluttered at the edge of her mind.

  Memories flooded her system.

  Her father!

  A sob tore from her throat.

  The familiar scent of jasmine from the bouquet of flowers on her bedside table grounded her. She was in her bedroom of the house on Canyon Air Force Base in southwest Texas. The home she’d shared with her father before his accidental death a month ago.

  Her breathing slowed. She wiped at the wet tears on her cheeks and shook away the fear and panic.

  Just a nightmare. One in a long string of them.

  According to Dr. Flintman, the base therapist, she suffered mild post-traumatic stress disorder from finding her father after his fall from a ladder he had climbed to clean the gutters on the house. Knowing why her brain was doing this didn’t make the images seared in her mind any less upsetting.

  She filled her lungs with several deep breaths and sought the clock across the room on the dresser.

  The clock’s red glow was blocked by the silhouette of a person looming at the end of her bed.

  Was her mind playing a trick on her again? Or was she still stuck in her nightmare? She blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from her eyes.

  Her breath caught and held.

  No trick.

  Someone was in her room.

  Full-fledged panic jackknifed through her, jolting her system into action. Self-preservation kicked in. She rolled to the side of the bed and landed soundlessly on the floor. With one hand, she reached for the switch of the bedside-table lamp, while her other hand searched for the baseball bat she kept under the bed.

  Holding the bat up with her right hand, she flicked on the light. A warm glow dispelled the shadows and revealed she was alone. Or was she?

  With bat in hand, she went through the house, turning on every light. No one was there.

  She frowned and worked to calm her racing pulse.

  This wasn’t the first time she’d thought someone had been in the house.

  But this time had seemed so real.

  Back in her bedroom, she looked again at the clock. Wait a minute. It was turned to face the wall. A shiver of unease wracked her body. The red numbers had been facing the bed when she’d retired last night. She was convinced of it.

  And her dresser drawers were slightly open. She peeked inside. Her clothes were mussed, as if someone had rummaged through them. She wasn’t a neat freak or anything, but her military training and her air force father had taught her to keep her things in proper order.

  What was going on?

  Was the stress and grief of her father’s passing messing with her brain, as her therapist suggested? Was she losing her mind?

  Wouldn’t that just be the icing on the cake? Her mother already thought she was nuts for choosing to join the United States Air Force and train military dogs for service rather than follow in her footsteps and pursue a high-powered career in corporate law.

  Felicity set aside the baseball bat.

  Maybe someone was pulling a joke on her.

  She dismissed the idea quickly. She didn’t know anyone that cruel.

  She turned the clock to see the time. Five after five in the morning. Perfect. The one day she could sleep in, and her psyche wouldn’t let her. She wasn’t expected at the training center until tonight. She usually had Sundays off and worked the Saturday-night shift, but had traded with Airman Tamara Peterson, who was taking a few days of leave to visit her parents and wanted to head out Sunday morning.

  Felicity glanced at the clock again. Maybe she could nap for an hour or so more, then go to church.

  Noises outside the bedroom window startled her. It was too early for most people to be up on a Sunday morning. She pushed aside the room-darkening curtain. The first faint rays of sunlight marched over the Texas horizon with hues of gold, orange and pink.

  They provided enough light for Felicity to see a parade of dogs running loose along Base Boulevard. It could only be the dogs from the K-9 training center.

  Stunned, her stomach clenched.

  Someone had literally let the dogs out. Most of them, by the looks of it. At least a hundred or more canines filled the street and were quickly leaving the area.

  Felicity’s chest constricted. Had Tamara or Landon, the other trainer on last night’s shift, forgotten to lock the gate? That didn’t seem likely. Both were experienced trainers. Uneasy dread gripped her by the throat.

  A dog barked, reminding her that the canines needed to be rounded up and returned to their kennels. She didn’t want any of them to get hurt. Some of the dogs suffered PTSD from their service, while others were being trained to serve. Many were finished with their training and ready to be partnered, but set loose like this...

  Galvanized into action, she hastily dressed in her battle-ready uniform.

  On the way out the door, she grabbed her cell phone, intending to call her boss, Master Sergeant Westley James. Before she could dial, her phone
pinged with an incoming alert text from the training center.

  Urgent. Dogs’ kennels tampered with. Red Rose Killer escaped prison and believed to be on base. Use caution. Report in ASAP.

  Felicity stopped in her tracks. Her heart fell to her feet then bounced back into her throat as fear struck hard through her core.

  The Red Rose Killer.

  Boyd Sullivan. Cold eyes, merciless.

  She shuddered.

  Two years ago, after being dishonorably discharged from the air force during basic training, Boyd had returned to his hometown of Dill, Texas, and killed five people whom he’d believed had wronged him in some way.

  The media had dubbed him the Red Rose Killer because he would leave a red rose and a note for his intended victims, taunting them with the warning—I’m coming for you. Then he made good on his threat, and each victim was found with an additional red rose and a new note tucked under their arm, with the words Got you.

  A Dill sheriff’s deputy and her K-9 partner had been the ones to bring down Sullivan. He’d been captured, convicted and sent to prison.

  And now he’d escaped and was on base.

  Why would he release the dogs? She remembered he always liked the furry creatures.

  She dialed Westley’s cell.

  He answered on the first ring. “Felicity. Did you hear the news?”

  “Yes. There are dogs everywhere in base housing,” she told him.

  “They are everywhere on base period.” His voice sounded extra grim. “We need to bring them in.”

  “I’ll retrieve as many as I can here and bring them over to the kennels.”

  “Good. I’ll send others over to help.” There was a pause then he said, “I should tell you there have been two murders.”

  She stilled. Fear whispered down her spine. Her pulse spiked. “Murders?” She swayed. Please, Lord, no. “Tamara? Landon?”

  “Yes.”

  Her heart sank. Tears flooded her eyes. That explained why the dogs were loose. She knew neither trainer would be so careless. “Did Boyd Sullivan kill them?