by T. K. Lukas
Contents
Title Page
Praise for IF THE DEVIL HAD A DOG
Description
Copyright
Dedication
From My Heart
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
Acknowledgments
A Note From the Author
About the Author
Works by T.K. Lukas
IF THE DEVIL HAD A DOG
By
T.K. Lukas
Chevalier Publishing
Praise for
IF THE DEVIL HAD A DOG
“In a word? Un-put-down-able. The characters are so carefully delineated you can hear them breathe. Even the secondary characters, both good and bad, are so alive that you feel as if they are part of your world. The story reels you in, from the smashing first line and delivers until the end. Readers won't want to shelve these characters. More books, please!”
I. Eishen – Amazon Reader
“The new psychological thriller by T.K. Lukas will touch a lot of people in many ways. Far too many of them, from the most feminine to the hardest of veterans, will be able to closely relate to the distress and anxiety detailed in Lukas’s new novel. Some of the chilling-but-thrilling scenes may leave you wondering how much of what you’re reading is fiction, and how much of it is a shared, terrifying moment in history. However, as if to help you recover from the moment, the next few words might make you laugh out loud, or stop for a bit to consider a thought-provoking idea. If the Devil Had a Dog: full of surprises and highly recommended.”
Gary B. Haley – Author of The Attunement and The Scrapbook Lectures
“I am SO TIRED! And it's all Lukas’ fault. I seriously could not put this book down. I could not stop reading it and loved the story so much I didn’t want it to end. There was an added layer of fun in reading a book and knowing places and recognizing names. I'm so glad Lukas is thinking series, because no one who enjoys this book is going to be ready to let these characters go! T.K. Lukas has a hit in this one.”
S. Miles – Amazon Reader
“I finished reading If the Devil Had a Dog two days ago, but I can't stop thinking about the story! While reading the book, I felt conflicted, wanting to get to the end so I could know the resolution, but not wanting it to be over. I highly recommend the book to anyone who loves suspense and great characters.”
B. Maybe – Amazon Reader
“What a thrilling story of romantic suspense. Loved the flawed characters. Would love to know that the storyline will continue. I would recommend this story for anyone who enjoys suspense, assassins, crime with a touch of romance. 5 stars with hopes to see a book 2 soon.”
S. Danzer – Amazon Reader
“I could not stop reading it...aside from the fascinating story, I was pleased with the writing, structure, and proper grammar. As a retired editor, I am oftentimes distracted -is there a shortage of good copy editors out there? I thoroughly enjoyed this book and look forward to another one soon.”
A. Kourany – Amazon Reader
“The story was believable and the characters delightful. Markus' PTSD was very real and Sidney's attempts to escape domestic violence and other extreme dangers were on point. Even Trevor and Eli were people that were broken in some way but all of them exhibited strengths that is often rare. Perfect story!”
A. Williams – Amazon Reader
“Good plot, continuous action with little down time and terrific writing with great descriptions and minimal filler. Loved that the chapters were labeled, which should be a requirement for all authors all books.”
G. Mache – Amazon Reader
“I picked this book up for a quick read on a plane ride. I couldn't put it down! I was gasping and snickering on the plane; the woman next to me even asked what I was reading since I looked like I was enjoying it. The wit and charm are no less than you'd expect in a Texas themed novel. I loved the cowboy/rodeo themes and the main character is so smart and inquisitive. You won't be disappointed in this book!”
R. Choo – Amazon Reader
“This was one of those books that hit the ground running. Not a boring moment. Could hardly take a break. In this complex world we live in now, we can only thank God we have not had to endure a life like this. Great job!”
J. Shirley – Amazon Reader
“I really liked this book! I was swept along to the extent that it was difficult to stop reading when it got so late in the evening. Excellently written with twists and turns I didn't see coming, and fully fleshed characters to boot. The subject matter is timely, the locales are described accurately, and the conclusion is satisfying in oh, so many ways. Top notch writing!”
W. Reader – Amazon Review
“This was a suspense filled read that had me dying to get back to it every time I had to put it down. It wasn't like any other book I ever read. More twists and turns than a pretzel.”
S. Goodwin – Amazon Reader
How far can she run before he finds her?
Sidney McQueen flees to the small, west Texas town of Alpine to escape the most dangerous man she’s ever known—her estranged husband—a powerful attorney with ties to Mexican drug cartels. When circumstances throw her into the path of Markus Yeager, he is immediately suspicious. And, when Sidney reveals she possess something her soon-to-be ex is hell-bent to retrieve, Markus becomes embroiled in a world he thought he had left far behind.
A former Marine turned CIA operative, Markus has a top-secret past with the physical and emotional scars to prove it. He is drawn into Sidney’s life-or-death situation, where weapons, drugs, and money are the only gods—a world where dangerous traffickers stop at nothing to get what they want. As their mutual need draws them closer, Markus and Sidney discover a deadly predator whose web of treachery leads to terrifying violence. In a frantic race against time, can they stay one step ahead, expose a dangerous cartel, and bring a murderer to justice?
IF THE DEVIL HAD A DOG – an explosive psychological thriller that sinks its teeth in and never lets go.
Copyright © 2017 T.K. Lukas All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the permission of the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
Purchase only authorized editions.
ISBN: 0996235639
ISBN-13: 978-0-99623563-1
Chevalier Publishing
Note:
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are 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.
Dedication
For Baron, who taught me to believe in heroes,
who taught me to believe in everlasting love,
who taught me to believe it’s never too late
to live happily ever after.
&n
bsp; From My Heart
Writing this novel, while sometimes an excruciating exercise in fortitude, was ultimately cathartic. I am closely acquainted with women who’ve found themselves in frighteningly similar circumstances as the heroine, Sidney. Fearing their partner’s “till death do us part” vow, they’ve combated domestic violence, both mental and physical. These are smart women—strong women—women who got sucked into their abuser’s sick world.
My fictitious heroine flees her violent marriage. However, she’s put through hell and her life is still in danger. Sadly, in real life, many women haven't the means to escape. This story is not meant to be a blueprint for how every woman should handle her individual struggle. This is fiction based on fact. If you are in a domestic violence situation, please reach out for help. While not a personal endorsement, a possible place to start is genesisshelter.org or another such organization in your community.
Now, a word about the “hero.” I use that term with immense pride and familiarity. The lead male character, Markus, is patterned after a few men I know, one quite personally. If you are acquainted with the quote attributed to George Orwell, you’ll know my male lead character and understand his motives without further explanation: “People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.”
While Markus handles his PTSD in an atypical manner, those with PTSD can surely identify with his emotions and his decision to deal with his situation in his own way. Post Traumatic Stress is a very real and very serious mental health issue. If you are suffering, please don’t carry the burden alone. Again, not an endorsement, but organizations such as the Wounded Warrior Project and their Warrior Care Network may provide helpful resources.
I’m hopeful that strong, smart women and courageous, rough men who find themselves in situations similar to those of my characters will gain a sense of strength and feel a shoulder of sympathy in the words of this novel.
Always faithful,
T.K. Lukas
CHAPTER 1
Alpine
“Friday’s as good a day as any to run for your life,” Sidney McQueen said aloud for perhaps the hundredth time since fleeing Fort Worth. But where the hell have I run? She slowed her truck and horse trailer to a crawl as she approached the tiny town that looked like it belonged in the middle of the previous century. She’d hoped for a better first impression of the place that was supposed to provide a clandestine refuge—a safe haven—to hide away from the man she referred to as “the devil.”
Yet her initial glimpse of the small, west Texas town appeared to be nothing of the sort.
Alpine, Texas appeared to be in a confused struggle to uncover its true identity. She noticed contradictions at every turn, juxtapositions underscoring the intricate nature of the community. Native American art galleries and sleek photography studios were as equally represented as tattoo parlors, livestock feed stores, and saddle makers. High-end jewelers, chic boutiques, and antique book dealers were nudged up against Mexican taquerias and gourmet restaurants, all sharing a few city blocks of awning space.
Even the name of the town and the name of the main drag pointed to contradictions. Beyond Holland Avenue, one might expect to see a collection of windmills irrigating rows of tulips instead of acres of cotton. Edelweiss did not thrive in this land better suited for ocotillo and yucca that grew in spiky abundance on the twin peaks overlooking the town. By all appearances, Alpine was a mishmash of clashing, complex personalities.
But clashing and complex was not what she needed. To Sidney’s hypervigilant mind, everything in this tiny town seemed to be in a skirmish. Not even close to her image of an idyllic refuge, Alpine provoked disquieting thoughts.
She considered heading on down the road. But where would she go, with darkness only a few short hours away? Practical matters must be considered. She decided to explore further. Driving past the downtown shops, she noticed business owners sweeping their sidewalks. A few offered a perfunctory wave before going on about their tasks. Shoppers strolling along the storefronts ignored her. A matched pair of golden retrievers napped in the afternoon sunshine on a porch next to a gourmet hotdog stand.
Upon giving it further consideration, she realized she could blend right in. Her tensions and misgivings eased somewhat. This speck on Texas’s western horizon might prove ideal after all.
After making a second sweep around the downtown loop, she drove back to the edge of town where visitors and residents were greeted by a vibrant billboard that looked like a ten-foot-tall picture post card. It read “Howdy, Welcome to Alpine.” Across from the sign stood the Maverick Inn, a collection of low-slung, tan adobe buildings reminiscent of an old roadhouse-style motel. An adobe wall surrounded the complex, while gigantic desert yucca, with stalks of white flowers shooting up from clusters of sword-shaped leaves, grew as tall as the flashing neon sign.
Clean and well lit, it appeared safe. It was on the main road with a straight shot out of town, in case she needed to drive away in a hurry. Perfect.
She pulled her truck and horse trailer next to the In.
Sidney grabbed her handbag and her cellphone, double-checked that she’d locked the cab of her truck, before walking around to the side of the three-horse trailer. She lowered the middle window and the dark, chocolaty brown mare stuck out her head and nickered.
“I won’t be long, Mocha. I think I’ve found us a place to stay for the night.” She stroked the mare’s velvety nose, rubbing the large star that swirled on her forehead. “I’m sure you’re as ready as I am to stop driving.”
Glancing at the life-sized plastic statue of a horse standing in the first stall of the trailer, a “horse” wearing a traveling sheet matching Mocha’s, Sidney decided that buying the fake horse was a stroke of genius. If someone were pursuing her, they would have been told to keep an eye out for a woman matching her description pulling a trailer with only one horse in it.
From behind, the shrill sound of a long, drawn-out wolf whistle followed by vulgar catcalls startled her. She twisted her head around and noticed that the noise erupted from a rusty old pickup truck overflowing with eager, denim-clad testosterone. In a metropolitan city, the truck would be considered a prized, vintage find. Here, it was a ranch vehicle, something used for working, like the hard-calloused cowboys spilling over the bed’s railings and hanging out of the cab’s windows.
Sidney rested her forehead against the trailer, squeezing her eyes closed and wishing the pickup truck would roll on by. She considered climbing back into her truck and being the one to keep rolling on, but she’d been on the road almost ten hours and was exhausted. Ignoring the rude taunts would be impossible—the truck had slowed to a crawl. She decided playing it cool but smart was her best option to avoid a possible confrontation that might escalate into something she’d have to handle publicly. Flying under the radar was crucial.
“Hey, blondie. Save a horse, ride a cowboy,” shouted the tall, sunbaked beer drinker who stood in the bed of the truck and leaned against the cab’s back window. He swilled the last drop and tossed the bottle in the general direction of a grassy field. The amber glass shattered against the curb.
His white athletic jacket bore numerous rodeo patches for saddle bronc riding. A thick mixture of dirt and manure smeared the coat, almost obscuring the “2012” patch sewn on the sleeve. The patch was from Sul Ross State University, which was known as the birthplace of collegiate rodeo.
The driver, wearing a similar jacket, leaned out the window. “Say, sexy mama. Wanna swap your shiny truck for this old heap? This’d sure be easier for you to drive. You’re too small to climb in and out of that huge rig.”
Sidney turned on her cellphone and whirled around behind their truck. She snapped a picture of the license plate and another of the occupants’ surprised faces. A record of evidence, just in case.
She gripped the phone, her thumb hovering over the photo button, ready to snap another picture if needed. “You boys run along. Go
find someone your own age to play with.”
Her petite frame, long, blond ponytail, hip hugging jeans, and pink flannel shirt belied her thirty-four years, giving her the appearance of a younger girl. From the mass of rodeo team letter jackets, Sidney guessed them as either in college or fresh out. A little cougar action, or action of any sort, was not on her agenda.
The truck’s lowered tailgate was a crowded perch where four cowboys squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder with their legs dangling over the edge, their booted feet hovering inches above the pavement. When the driver shoved the truck’s gears into park, one rider slid off the tailgate, his slight frame emerging from the midst of his beefier companions. All wore their cowboy hats pulled low enough for the brims to shadow their eyes.
With his hands planted on his hips, he jutted his chin in defiance. “You boys? I haven’t been called a boy since I was ten.” Insolence dripped from each word.
He was a compact, lean bull rider, the half-dozen patches sewn on his jacket attesting to his sport. The emblems depicted a bucking bull ridden by an arched-back rider, one arm cocked high above his head. It was the only jacket clean enough to read the logos.
“This ain’t no boy’s toy here.” He unbuckled his belt. His jeans and boxers dropped to his boots.
Encouraged by the uproarious laughter and shouts of admiration and jealousy from his buddies, the exhibitionist added a few hand pumps and hip thrusts to accentuate the crudeness of the action.