by Dianna Love
Blake’s heart was racing when he pointed at Damon’s cabin, as they hovered overhead. There were no cars in the driveway, but that didn’t mean the suspect wasn’t hiding inside.
From the ground, Lane swept the length of the cabin with a pair of high-powered binoculars, but saw no movement inside or out. From the helicopter, Tim used the thermal imaging camera to make visible any objects that emit heat. Like Lane, he found nothing.
Using a bull-horn, Lane urged Damon to come out because he was surrounded. When there was no answer, Lane signaled the team, which formed a single-file line, each person poised low-to-the-ground while approaching the cabin.
On the porch, the point man breached the door and threw in a flash bang. The grenade exploded in a flash of light and a loud boom to disorient any suspect inside the cabin. As each team member entered the cabin, he or she quickly dropped into position in the area of responsibility Lane had discussed with them earlier. Soon they had cleared each room of the cabin. Damon Mason was not there.
***
Blake’s cell phone vibrated again. Filled with frustration about not finding Damon, he yanked it out of his pocket and barked, “Blake Stone.”
“Detective Stone, this is Carl Freeman. Do you remember me? I was Dick Mason’s neighbor.”
“Listen, Mr. Freeman, this is not a good time.”
“I understand. I guess I should have called nine-one-one,” Carl apologized.
Blake’s curiosity kicked in. “What’s going on, Mr. Freeman?”
“It could be nothing, but I just drove past Dick Mason’s place and there are cars in the driveway. I’m worried someone is breaking into the place.”
Blake pushed the cell’s speaker button so Tim could hear the conversation.
“Did you say there are vehicles at Dick Mason’s house?”
“Yes, sir. There’s an SUV in the driveway and some sort of vehicle in the open garage that I didn’t get a good look at,” he explained. “Do you want me to go back and check it out?”
“No!” Blake shouted. “We’re on our way. Don’t leave your house, Mr. Freeman.”
***
Jennifer glared at Damon from the sofa in the living room, and cursed herself for the hundredth time for not waiting for Blake. How could she have been such an idiot! Now she was trapped by a sociopathic serial killer, and her mother may lie dying in the other room. She had to think of a way to disarm him.
Damon was pacing, going to the window to look out, then coming back. Then doing it again. He was showing signs of paranoia, which could work for her, or against her.
“I know about your mother, Damon,” Jennifer said.
“You don’t know shit,” he exclaimed.
Jennifer spoke softly as if she sympathized with him. “I know she abused you. She beat you with a belt when you were just a child and couldn’t defend yourself.”
“Shut up!” He swung around from his stance by the window.
“It must have been horrible for you, with no one to protect you from her,” said Jennifer. “I know your dad felt terrible about leaving you behind.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. My father knew he was leaving me with a monster, but he left anyway. He cared only for himself.”
“You’re wrong, Damon, he told me...”
He cut her off. “So the old man felt a little guilt. So what? He abandoned me and didn’t give a flip about how I suffered in her hands. But he paid. I made sure he did. Once he sucked down that cup of valium-laced coffee and passed out, I turned his car on in the garage. Good-bye Daddy.”
“You murdered Dick? You killed your own father?” Jennifer’s accusing voice stabbed the air.
***
Tim talked to Lane from the copter. “We think Mason is at his father’s home on Route 47. Jennifer may be there, too. It’s at least thirty minutes driving the SWAT van, but we can cut that time in half by flying.”
“We’re right behind you,” said Lane as he and his team ran back into the van.
Tim turned to the pilot, “How many body harnesses do you have onboard?”
“I mean no disrespect, sir,” Andy began. “But when was the last time either of you rappelled out of a helicopter?”
“Not a concern, officer. How many?” Tim’s voice was gruff and demanding.
“There are two special ops harnesses and two rescue vests in the back,” Andy replied.
Tim searched until he found the two special ops harnesses and threw one to Blake.
“I know the house,” said Blake. “Dick has a huge front yard, but it’s pretty open. Stretching from the small backyard, there’s about a mile of woods, then a clearing with a small pasture for horses. We can rappel there.”
Tim nodded and Andy aimed the copter toward Route 47.
***
“Your partner was a worthless piece of crap,” Damon exclaimed. “And so are you. I had you pegged the first time I saw you. You’ve been nothing but trouble to me. Do you think I don’t know it was you who sent those deputies to my cabin?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He moved closer to her until his finger was wagging inches from her face. “You’re a lying bitch, just like the others.”
Jennifer used the opportunity to swiftly extend one of her long legs to kick the gun out of Damon’s other hand. It sailed across the room and they both rushed toward it. Her hand was within an inch of reaching the gun when Damon grabbed her left arm. She swung her right fist up, then crashed it down to deliver a hard blow to the bridge of his nose. Blood sprayed, and he staggered backward as she dived for the gun.
Damon pulled at her feet, flipping her on her back. Big mistake. As she scooted away from him, he followed and she delivered a vicious kick to his groin. As he bent down, she chambered her fist, slamming it down to the cluster of nerves half-way between the side and the front of his neck.
As he slumped to the floor, she grabbed his service revolver and ran to the kitchen to help her mother.
***
Terrifying the two horses in the pasture, Andy lowered the helicopter so both Blake and Tim could safely rappel to the ground. Then he circled the area as they had asked.
Once they jumped the pasture fence, the men entered the woods, wading through thick grasses, bushes, weeds and debris as they headed toward Dick Mason’s house. At the edge of the trees, Blake aimed the thermal imaging camera toward the house.
“There are two people in the kitchen,” he whispered to Tim as he aimed the camera to the front of the house. “There’s one in the front room.”
Tim pointed to the front of the house to communicate he was going in that direction. Low-to-the-ground, Blake moved to the back of the house. He angled himself to peer into a back window, but the curtains were closed. As he crept to the back stoop, he could hear Jennifer crying out. He kicked in the back door and came face-to-face with a revolver Jennifer pointed instinctively. She lowered the gun and he pulled her into his arms. That’s when he saw Megan Brennan restrained on the kitchen table.
“Where’s Damon?”
“In the living room, unconscious.”
Blake rushed to the table to help Jennifer remove the remaining duct tape from Megan’s wrists and ankles. When Blake tried to pull her into a sitting position, she slumped back to the table.
“He’s injected her with Rohypnol,” Jennifer said, as she placed her ear near her mother’s face. “Her breathing has slowed. She needs medical treatment, Blake. Mom has a heart condition.”
They both heard a commotion in the living room, but before they could respond, Damon appeared in the doorway with his arm tightened around Tim’s neck, and a gun pointed at the sheriff’s head.
Both Jennifer and Blake stiffened, but refused to lower the guns they pointed at Damon.
“Let my father go,” Jennifer demanded. “Let him go now!”
“Go to hell, Jennifer. I don’t take orders from a bitch,” Damon growled in return. “Put your guns down on the floor, or Daddy gets
it. Then Mommy.”
With her finger on the trigger guard, Jennifer held her weapon in the firing position. She moved into the firing stance, with her feet shoulder-width apart and her left foot a step past her right, her dominant eye focused on Damon’s head. “Not going to happen, Damon. My gun stays where it is. Let go of my father.”
At an impasse, Damon’s eyes darted from Jennifer to Blake and then back.
Just as Jennifer inserted her trigger finger into the trigger guard, Tim delivered a punishing elbow jab into Damon’s rib cage, then he dropped to the floor. Recovering quickly, Damon aimed his gun at Tim, but before he could pull the trigger, a bullet from Jennifer’s gun slammed into Damon’s head.
Tim pushed Damon’s body off him, and checked his pulse. “He’s dead.”
Blake took the gun from Jennifer’s shaking hands and slipped it in the back of his waistband. He then pulled Jennifer into his arms and held her until she stopped trembling.
Tim whipped out his cell phone. “Andy, get that copter back here! My wife needs to be taken to the hospital.”
***
Frankie and Lane had a “Thank-God-Its-Over” cookout on a beautiful spring day. Anne and Michael Brandt were already there, as well as Tim and Megan Brennan, when Blake and Jennifer parked in the driveway. In the backyard, Lane hovered over his top-of-the-line gas grill that Frankie surprised him with on his last birthday, as Tim supervised the grilling of the steaks. Frankie pointed to a huge cooler filled with ice, beer, wine coolers, and sodas, telling Blake and Jennifer to help themselves.
Michael and Anne sat in patio chairs on the lawn, watching the kids play with the dogs. Little Ashley scrambled after a ball thrown for the Giant Schnauzers, Harley and Hunter, to chase, inspiring five-year-old Michael Brandt, Jr. to lecture her on the fine arts of playing catch with dogs. When Ashley’s face puckered up and tears filled her eyes, Michael Jr.’s twin, Melissa, hugged the little girl and told her she could chase the ball if she wanted to. Michael Jr. shrugged his shoulders to demonstrate his frustration, then joined his dad to debate the subject.
Frankie asked Megan about her hospital stay.
“The Rohypnol slowed down my breathing, so they gave me some oxygen and treated me with activated charcoal. I hate hospitals. I couldn’t wait to go home. I don’t know what all the fuss was about. I’m fine.”
“Is it true about Rohypnol? That it causes you to forget what’s happened?”
“I can’t remember a thing that happened after Damon Mason entered our home,” Megan replied. “I’m disappointed I missed all the exciting parts, like the ride in the helicopter to the hospital.”
Tim joined them and said, “Personally, I could have lived without remembering all the exciting parts.”
“Yeah, me, too,” said Blake. He glanced at Jennifer and wondered why she’d been so quiet all day. He put his arm around the back of her chair and stroked her arm gently with his fingers.
Lane looked at the couple and asked, “So you two both have a week’s vacation. What are you going to do with it?”
“We’re flying to Florida to see Carly, and I want to introduce Jennifer to my parents,” Blake said.
Jennifer added, “I can’t wait to see Carly and get some sun. Florida beaches are beautiful.”
“Is your counseling finished?” Tim asked Jennifer. Per policy, all officers involved in a shooting were required to attend counseling sessions.
“Yes, Dad,” she answered.
“How’d it go?”
“I’ll tell you what I told Dr. Shields. I don’t for a minute regret shooting that vicious killer.”
Tim hugged his daughter and said, “You saved our lives that day.”
“Dad, there’s something I want to do for Brianna’s little girl, Amanda.”
“What’s that?”
“I want the money in the trust fund that Paul Vance left me to go to her,” Jennifer said. “I want Amanda to grow up, go to college, and do all the wonderful things in life that I’m sure Brianna wanted for her.”
Michael spoke up. “If that’s what you want to do, I’ll help you make it happen.”
***
After an impromptu softball game, where Jennifer skidded into home base for a home run, the party broke up and everyone headed home. Blake parked the SUV in front of Jennifer’s house and followed her inside. He noticed her scraped knee was bleeding, so he bounded up the stairs for the first aid kit.
Blake found the first aid kit in her bathroom medicine cabinet where she said it would be. He pulled it from the shelf, and then closed the cabinet door. Somehow the kit slipped from his fingers and plopped into the small waste basket next to the sink. He plucked the kit from the waste basket. That’s when he noticed something and froze. There was a small plastic tube with the words “pregnancy test” written on its side. Pregnancy test? Slowly, he reached back into the can and held the plastic tube up so he could read the results.
***
Jennifer heard him walk into the room, his footsteps heavy and slow. She turned to see if he had the first aid kit and what she saw sucked the air out of her lungs, as if she’d been punched in the chest.
Blake stood in the doorway holding her plastic pregnancy test tube between his index finger and his thumb. His eyes were glistening and his expression bore a seriousness she’d never seen before.
“I’m not going to ask you why you didn’t tell me. I’m not even going to ask you how long you’ve known. But I am going to answer the questions you haven’t asked.” He tossed the plastic container onto the end table and moved a step toward her.
“Yes, I want this baby,” he continued. “Yes. I can’t think of anything I want more than our little boy or girl.”
“Blake, I...”
“There’s more that I want. I want you, this baby and me to be a real family. I want a house with a picket fence and a swing-set in the backyard. I want a front porch with a swing so we can sit out there and talk about our days, and make plans for our future.” His large hand took her face and held it gently. “I want to spend my days knowing that I will spend my nights with you and our kids.”
“I love you so much, Blake.”
“Honey, I’m crazy about you. I want to marry you, Jennifer. I want us to make that lifetime commitment and keep it.” Blake paused for a second. “Will you marry me? Will you trust me to be the man who will always be there for you?”
In one forward motion, Jennifer was in his arms where he held her snugly, kissing her hard.
“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’.”
***
Dear Reader:
If you liked Deadly Relations, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book too by recommending it to your friends on Goodreads or by writing a positive review on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes, Kobo, Sony, Diesel or Smashwords.
If you do write a review, please send me an email at [email protected]. I'd like to thank you personally.
Alexa Grace
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***
About the Author — Alexa Grace
Alexa Grace's journey started in March 2011 when the Sr. Director of Training & Development position she'd held for thirteen years was eliminated. A door closed but another one opened. She finally had the time to pursue her childhood dream of writing books. Her focus is now on writing riveting romantic suspense novels.
Author Alexa Grace is consistently listed in top twenty of Amazon's Top 100 Most Popular Authors in the categories Romantic Suspense and Police Procedural. She was named one of the top 100 Indie authors by Kindle Review. A chapter is devoted to her in the book Interviews with Indie Authors by C. Ridgway and T. Ridgway.
Her books Deadly Offerings, Deadly
Deception, and Deadly Relations have consistently been listed in Amazon's Top 100 Bestselling Romantic Suspense and Police Procedural Books. Deadly Deception, Deadly Relations and Deadly Holiday have ranked #1 in the top 100 Top Rated Books in Police Procedural Books.
Deadly Holiday, published in November 2012, is her holiday-themed romantic suspense novella, featuring all her Deadly Trilogy characters.
Profile of Evil, the first book of the Profile Trilogy is available at major online retailers. Profile of Terror and Profile of Fear will be released later this year.
Alexa earned two degrees from Indiana State University and currently lives in Florida. She's a member of Romance Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.
Her writing support team includes five Miniature Schnauzers, three of which are rescues. As a writer, she is fueled by Starbucks lattes, chocolate and emails from readers.
For more information on her upcoming releases:
Check out her website at http://www.alexa-grace.net/
Visit her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAlexaGrace
Email her at [email protected]
Follow her at http://twitter.com/AlexaGrace2
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A CHARMING CRIME
by
TONYA KAPPAS
~
A Magical Cure Mystery
I want to thank every single member of the Tonya Kappes Street Team! They are a group of readers who have stood by me and supported me. Readers are so important to me and I’m honored that at the end of the day they take the time to escape into my imaginative world. You guys rock!! AND I love you to death!
Chapter One
“I know, I know.” I waved my hands in front of me trying to stop anything that was about to come out of Oscar Park’s mouth, but I knew it was useless.
He slammed the door of his patrol car, took his hat off, and then waved it towards my shed. . . my burning shed. “You know what?”