by Caila Jaynes
Table of Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Epilogue
Trusting Danger
Book Two in the Danger Series
Caila Jaynes
Allyson Simonian
Trusting Danger
Copyright © 2018 Caila Jaynes & Allyson Simonian
All Rights Reserved
Edited and Formatted by
Pam Berehulke
Bulletproof Editing
Cover Design by
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously.
For our families
Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Epilogue
Coming Soon
Acknowledgments
Note to the Reader
About the Author
About the Author
Books by Allyson Simonian
Books by Caila Jaynes
Prologue
“We’re going the wrong way!”
The town car’s driver glanced at Claire in the rearview mirror but didn’t respond as he took the exit to a park, then pulled the car to a stop on the shoulder in a grassy area surrounded by trees and not much else.
She whipped her head back and forth, seeing no reason for the driver to have detoured from their route. “Is something wrong with the car? Why did you pull over here?”
Gravel crunched as a dark SUV pulled up and parked in front of them, setting off alarm bells inside her head. Her heart pounding, Claire jerked off her seat belt and reached for the handle to shove open her door, preparing to run.
“Wait, Miss Parker.” The driver turned in his seat and caught her eye before pointing out the windshield. “He’s a government agent, and so am I.”
The adrenaline shooting through Claire’s system lessened only slightly as her gaze zeroed in on the tall, well-built man who stepped out of the SUV and approached the town car.
“What’s going on?” she asked, keeping a death grip on the door handle.
Before the driver could respond, the other man arrived at Claire’s window and tapped on it. With trembling fingers, she reached for the window button and pressed it, her heart hammering as the tinted glass slid down slowly.
“Miss Parker, I’m Grayson Matthews.”
Claire’s breath caught as she stared up into his handsome face, his upper lip and jaw dusted with a shadow of scruff. The man’s dark brows lowered over his sharp green gaze, freezing her in place as he pulled out a leather wallet and extended a silver badge, holding it for her perusal before returning
it to his pocket. The driver pulled out his credentials as well and held them over the seat back for her to scan them.
“I’m a federal agent with the Phoenix Task Force.” Agent Matthews gestured toward his colleague still in the driver’s seat. “And that’s Agent Cox.”
Confused, she gaped up at him, his military bearing and impressive physique both intimidating and extremely attractive. The unexpected warmth zinging through Claire’s body dissipated as her thoughts spun, reeling until one slipped into place with a click. Her panic returned with renewed force and she gasped.
“My parents, are they all right?”
Agent Matthews frowned down at her. “You’re the one who’s in danger. Someone is trying to abduct you.”
“Wait . . . what?”
Why would anyone want to abduct her? Her father could be a potential target since he was a senator, but she wasn’t anyone important.
Squinting up at the agent in confusion, she said, “I don’t understand.”
“We’re going to tell you everything we can, but first, we need you to come with us.”
Her heart pounding, Claire stared at him, trying to decide what to do.
Apparently sensing her distress, Agent Matthews softened his expression and leaned closer, his voice gentle as he said, “Trust me.”
Chapter One
Three Days Earlier
When his cell phone rang, awareness jolted Grayson awake. Early morning light filtered through the bedroom window as he sat up abruptly, shoving off the bedcovers. He picked up his ringing phone from the nightstand, and his stomach clenched at the name on the caller ID.
“Aunt Mary?” He croaked out her name, willing his racing heart to slow down. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s your mother, Gray.” His aunt’s voice sounded worried, which didn’t help his heart rate. “She’s in the ER at Regional.”
“What happened?”
“She fell on her way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. The hospital called me when the ambulance brought her in.”
Grayson pulled in a ragged breath. Even though his mother had been feeling lousy for months, the leukemia diagnosis had only come recently. He was still trying to wrap his head around it. “Did she break anything?”
“No, just lots of bruising, which Eleanor’s getting used to, but she has a fever of 103 and her red-blood-cell count is really low.” Mary’s voice tightened as she continued. “Lower than last week, so they’re running more tests. Hopefully, they’ll be able to get her fever down so they won’t have to admit her. I’ll be on the next flight and should be in Scranton by this afternoon. When do you think you can leave?”
“I’m not sure.”
The silence that hung over the line was a silent rebuke, one he was well used to from her. Still holding the phone to his ear, he dropped his head into his other hand.
“It’s what, Thursday, right?” he said, trying to gather his thoughts and quickly assess his schedule. “I’ll talk to my boss. Maybe I can be there by tonight.”
His aunt muttered a disappointed “all right” before hanging up.
Grayson scrubbed a hand over his face, then placed a call to his boss.
“You’re up early,” Eli Sesay said, his voice as chipper as if it were noon rather than the crack of dawn. “Have you been able to meet with Rex Gibson yet?”
Guilt ate at Grayson, along with the frustration of being pulled in what felt like twenty different directions. As an undercover agent with the Phoenix Task Force in Washington, DC, he’d worked for weeks trying to help his team pin down who was heading a drug ring operating throughout the mid-Atlantic region. The ring had been expanding recently, not only growing its territory but also branching out into other criminal activities, which was why Phoenix was involved in an investigation that normally fell solely under the DEA’s purview.
He’d spent the last three weeks hanging out with one of the ring’s lower-level members, a small-time drug runner named Darryl. While Grayson was making progress infiltrating the ring, gaining Darryl’s trust and meeting some of the other lower-level players, it was frustratingly slow. He’d hoped to be further along by now with more info on the higher-ups, starting with Darryl’s supplier, Rex Gibson.
“I still haven’t met with Gibson, but I’m going to see Darryl again this afternoon.” Switching gears, Grayson explained his aunt’s call, ending with, “If I drive up to Scranton tonight, I should be able to get back to DC by Saturday morning.”
Eli’s usual no-nonsense tone softened. “Why don’t you stay with your mother for longer than that? We can let Aiden continue to work the case.”
Grayson rested his elbows on his knees as he thought through his options. Ever since the DEA had turned this case over to Phoenix, Eli had been receiving daily calls from his DEA counterpart, asking for progress reports. Aiden Turner, a longtime Phoenix agent with a few years’ seniority on Grayson, had worked the case for the past six months from Baltimore. When Aiden got a lead that key players were operating in DC, Grayson had been brought in on the case to pursue the DC connection while Aiden continued running down leads in Maryland.
There was no way Grayson was going to lose the momentum he’d worked so hard to build with Darryl. Ignoring the regret that tied his stomach in knots, he said, “It’s best for all of us if I keep plugging away.”
His boss was silent for a moment. “All right then. Call me after your meeting with Darryl.”
After agreeing that he would, Grayson ended the call. He tossed his phone back on the nightstand and headed for the shower, pushing aside for the moment his worry for his mother and the nagging unease that remained from a restless night’s sleep.
Chapter Two
The low murmur of nearby hushed conversations was a soothing backdrop for Claire as she updated her notes of the case she was working on at the Georgetown Law Library in Washington, DC. A row of identical tables to the one she was seated at stretched down an aisle between walls of built-in bookcases filled with thick law books.
“Hey, Claire!”
She looked up from her laptop as her friend and classmate Leah plopped into the seat across from her, right on time for their meeting to discuss progress on their joint capstone project—defending a client in a criminal case. Although their professor acted as supervising attorney to oversee their work, in the end, their client’s defense was Claire and Leah’s responsibility. A failing grade on their project report would make it difficult for either Claire or Leah to graduate from law school this year . . . not to mention what it would mean for their client.
“I just got an email from Professor Moore,” Claire said as Leah pulled out her own laptop. “She thinks the prosecutor might offer a deal.”
“In exchange for what?”
“A higher-level dealer’s name.”
“It would be a lucky deal for him.” Leah frowned. “But Chris isn’t gonna give anyone up.”
“He’s got no choice.” Claire sat up straighter in her seat. “If he doesn’t, he’ll be convicted.”
Their client, Christopher Jones, had grown up in the foster system. After graduating from high school and aging out of foster care, he’d moved in with a friend and landed a job as a waiter. At some point, he’d taken a wrong turn—a textbook case of hanging out with the wrong people—and ended up dealing drugs to make ends meet.
The fact that she and Leah were responsible for Chris’s court case was keeping Claire up at night. Getting the nineteen-year-old boy out of jail wouldn’t be easy. There was indisputable evidence against him, including video footage of him exchanging drugs for money behind the restaurant where he worked. Too bad the boy didn’t realize his boss had installed a security camera outside the delivery door.
“Just don’t be surprised when he says no to the deal.”
Claire bit down on her lip. What if Leah was right? What if Chris rejected the deal?
She frowned, trying to picture Chris inside the prison system. Although an adult in the eyes of the
law, he was just a scrawny teen, and at about five foot six, he wasn’t even as tall as Claire, who had a couple of inches on him and maybe ten to twenty pounds. Soft-spoken and ginger-haired, the boy had an honest face and a stubborn streak a mile wide. He wouldn’t stand a chance among the hardened prison population he’d be transferred to if convicted.
Leah drew a stack of papers from her tote. “I printed out the forms we’ll need when we visit the jail tomorrow.” She handed over the papers and Claire turned her attention to them, paging through the stack. “Are we done here?”
Claire glanced at the last page before setting the packet down. “Sure.”
“Great.” Leah stood, lifting the strap of her canvas messenger bag over her shoulder. “You’ll lead tomorrow’s meeting with the AUSA?”
In the District of Columbia, the justice system was set up a bit differently than other municipalities. Rather than a district attorney with a staff of assistant district attorneys working for him or her to prosecute cases, DC had a United States attorney who prosecuted both federal and local cases, and a staff of assistant US attorneys, or AUSAs.