He heard someone coming. He ducked into some kind of storage room across from the kitchen.
Jordan waited, listening to the footsteps on the wooden floor. The man paused in the hallway just outside the storage room. His body aching, Jordan clenched his hands, ignoring the pain and preparing himself to do what was necessary. The person moved away from him. He relaxed his tense stance and started for the door when the man returned to the hallway. The knob turned.
* * *
As soon as the two men left the room, Tory whispered to her son, “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”
“No. What if they do something to Dutch?”
“He’ll be okay. We’re in the Lord’s hands, and He’ll protect us.” She leaned over and kissed the top of her son’s head. “I love you.”
“I love you, Mom.”
While the two men searched the house, Tory fought to loosen the rope around her wrists. She had a better chance than Kevin, who was handcuffed. She scooted around. “See if you can help me while they’re gone.”
The sergeant put his back to hers and fumbled with the cord. When one of the men came toward the room, Tory and Kevin sat forward on the couch. The guy glared at them and headed up the stairs. When he disappeared from view, she twisted so Kevin could continue helping her with the rope. She heard a thump against the floor coming from the rear of the house. Surely Charles Nelson wasn’t hidden in the house. What were they looking for?
Another two minutes, and she was free. She quickly turned to Morgan and untied him. While he worked on the cord around his feet, Tory released Kevin’s bound feet and hers. “Let try to get out of here.”
“We’ll go out the front and hope the other two are deep in the woods by now. I suggest we run west. The cover is closer that way.” With his wrists still handcuffed, Kevin struggled to stand.
As Tory and Morgan rose, a gravelly voice from the staircase said, “You aren’t going anywhere.” The man descended the steps, his gun directed at them. “Sit before my patience runs out. It’s obvious we can’t leave you alone.” He positioned himself in the entrance to a small dining room that led to the kitchen and yelled, “Bobby Joe, I need your help.”
If only she’d worked faster. According to Kevin, one of the men worked for the London family, which meant they might kill them to keep that fact a secret. Ice flowed through her veins. She sent up another prayer.
* * *
When someone shouted for Bobby Joe, the man who had been charging toward Jordan hesitated and looked toward the door. Jordan lowered his shoulder and barreled into the guy, sending him back against a stack of crates. The impact stunned the guy long enough for Jordan to punch him in his gut, then finish him off with an upper cut.
“Bobby Joe, where are you? Did you find something?”
Jordan half expected the man to come looking for his cohort. He opened the door a few inches and peered into the hallway. No one was there. When he left the storage room, he checked the hallway into the foyer. Clear. He hurried down the corridor and sneaked toward the living room. He spied Tory and Morgan sitting at one end of the couch, fear in their eyes. Where was the sergeant?
A man with a gun moved toward the couch, waving the weapon at Tory. “Tie up your son, then the officer.”
Somehow Tory was free. No wonder the man didn’t come looking for his cohort.
When she stooped in front of Morgan to put the rope around his feet, the gunman shouted, “Bobby Joe, so help me—”
Before the man could turn, Jordan plowed into him, sending him flying toward Sergeant Bennett, who was seated in a chair on the opposite side of the room with his hands behind his back. The officer kicked the assailant in his stomach.
Jordan focused on getting the gun. When the guy tried to suck in air, Jordan brought down his fisted hands like a sledgehammer, onto the gunman’s nape, then snatched the revolver from his loosened grip. As the assailant fell, the sergeant finished him off by kneeing him in the head.
“Where’s the other one?” the sergeant asked.
“Out cold in the storeroom. I need to take care of him before he wakes up.”
“Go. I’ve got this one.” The police officer glared down at the man. “Tory, will you search for the keys to the handcuffs? He pocketed them.”
Jordan grabbed some rope on the floor and headed for the back. After he trussed up Bobby Joe and took his weapon, he dragged the guy into the living room to find the sergeant free of his handcuffs and helping Tory tie up the other guy.
“Now all we have to do is take care of the two in the woods,” Jordan said to the sergeant.
“Are you sure you’re up for it? What happened to you?” Sergeant Bennett took the gun off the downed man he and Tory had secured.
“I pulled the shed down to free myself.”
The sergeant eyed the weapon in Jordan’s hands. “You know how to use that?”
“I was a Navy Seal. I served ten years.” He turned to Tory. “Will you two be okay by yourselves?”
“Don’t worry about Morgan and me. I’ll take care of my son. You take care of the rest of them.”
As Jordan stepped onto the porch, Tory added, “The guy with blue eyes is the one who attacked me in my house. I won’t forget those eyes.”
Tory stood at the window and watched them disappear into the trees. Please, Lord, keep them safe.
She switched her attention between the view outside and to the guys who were tied up. She kept her hand on Morgan’s shoulder. The connection made her feel everything would be all right, as though God was reassuring her they would be safe.
* * *
Jordan pointed at the two men in the woods about twenty yards ahead of them, so focused on the terrain and looking for the gravesite that he hoped they wouldn’t know what hit them until it was too late. Earlier when he’d seen Dutch leashed to a tree, he’d unhooked his dog and signaled the German shepherd to follow.
Now, he sent Dutch to the right through the underbrush while he and the sergeant flanked to the left. With his dog in place to move in on the two assailants as a distraction, Jordan lifted his arm in the air as if he were going to throw a rope at a fleeing calf and indicated the German shepherd charge.
Dutch flew out of the brush, startling the two gunmen, while Jordan and Sergeant Bennett rushed in, giving them no time to pull out their weapons.
“Take your guns out nice and easy and toss them to your side,” the sergeant said.
Jordan patted his thigh, and Dutch trotted to his side.
Jordan scooped both forty-fives from the ground. “You weren’t even near the grave, but when you talk with your boss, tell him I know where the body is buried. Sergeant, I have a feeling there’s evidence on Charles Nelson’s body that could tie his death to the sports car, which, along with Tory’s eyewitness account of the hit-and-run, should put an end to this.”
* * *
When the doorbell rang on Christmas Day, Tory took the turkey out of the oven and set it out on the granite countertop. “Morgan, get the door. It’s probably Kevin and his wife.”
Not only had she invited the Bennetts to eat Christmas dinner with them but also Josh and his parents. When she’d returned last Friday from the Nelsons’ property, Alana had been waiting in Tory’s driveway. In light of everything that had been going on, she’d been so worried where Tory was that she’d been contemplating calling the police.
Jordan reached around her to lift the lid on the roaster. He took a deep breath. “I love that smell.”
His scent mingled with the aroma of the feast she’d been preparing for Christmas dinner—a sweet potato casserole, a fruit salad, some homemade rolls, and a broccoli and cheese dish. Cleared of all charges concerning the heroin in her house, she’d thrown herself into the holidays. Just a week after the incident at the Nelsons’ property, Tory still thanked God every day for protecting them. She had so much to celebrate and thank the Lord for this Christmas, especially for sending Jordan to help her.
“Mom, they�
��re here.”
“I think he’s hungry.” She glanced over her shoulder, Jordan only inches from her.
“So am I. The scent of that turkey has been taunting me all day, through the opening of presents and playing Morgan’s new video game. I’m past starved.”
She patted his cheek. “Poor, baby. Go greet our guests then come back to help me bring the food into the dining room.”
“Only if you’ll kiss me.”
“Do I have to?” she asked in a serious tone. Then she burst out laughing. Turning, she put her arms around Jordan. “I love you. I never thought I would love again, but you have swept into my life.”
“I love you, Tory. You have showed me there is too much to live for to waste away. That’s all I’d done since leaving the Navy—until I met you.”
Tory drew his head down and gave him a long kiss that held all her feelings for him. “More later under the mistletoe I hung up.”
Someone coughed behind Tory. She looked back at Kevin in the doorway. “Dinner is almost ready.”
Kevin moved into the kitchen. “I didn’t want to tell you where everyone could hear. I know you want to put the incident with Charles Nelson behind you, but the DA is charging Peter London for reckless driving, leaving the scene of an accident, and vehicular manslaughter.”
“So the car’s paint chips on Charles’s body were enough to go forward on the case?” Tory asked.
“That and your testimony. Also one of the men at the Nelson’s place decided yesterday to testify that he saw Peter leaving the back entrance of the property in his sports car shortly before the accident. Of course, that was after I told him I found his fingerprints on the knife Jordan took from your attacker. We didn’t have them on record until I arrested those fellows last Friday.”
“He cut a deal with the DA?” Jordan put his arm around Tory and pressed her against him.
“Yes, but he’ll still serve some time. Officer Ward hasn’t said anything yet. He’s been suspended from the police force pending an investigation of evidence tampering. The state police will be looking into the police department and Chief Hoffman for any shady connection with Harold London. I’d have called you yesterday, but I know you all were in Denver visiting. I figure you needed the time away from here and the case after last week.”
“And I used to think you didn’t see the whole picture.” Tory smiled and gave the sergeant a big hug. “I’m so glad you and your wife have come for Christmas dinner.”
After Tory stepped back, Jordan shook the police sergeant’s hand. “Do you think the police chief is involved in corruption?”
“No. He was furious when I went to him about Ward. I’ve worked with the man a long time, and he felt responsible for one of his officers taking a bribe. He’s cooperating with the state police. I think Harold was solely behind covering up what his son did through the men he employed and Ward.” Kevin turned to her. “Tory, I think Harold London just wanted you to go away or be proved unreliable. He put pressure on some important people to make your life difficult. Oh, and I almost forgot. The mechanic reported that the brakes on Nelson’s new car had been tampered with. They’ll be investigating the murder looking at Harold London as the prime suspect.”
“Where did Bart get the money for that car?”
“Seems everything was done in cash, but what evidence there is points to the Nelsons blackmailing Harold London, using the father’s dead body as leverage. We are pursuing that line of investigation to help support the murder charge against Harold.”
“It sounds like Harold didn’t like the idea of being blackmailed.” Jordan clasped Tory’s hand.
“Right before Jordan, Morgan, and I left for Denver, my principal called and apologized for his behavior. He’s discovered talking with the other students there was no truth in Mrs. Bates’ allegations about me mistreating her son. When he confronted her, she confessed she blew everything out of context after Mrs. London spoke to her.”
Kevin peered toward the stove. “It sure smells great, and Betsy is thrilled she didn’t have to cook today. Can I help you?”
“Yes, let everyone know dinner is ready. Jordan and I will bring the food into the dining room.”
Ten minutes later, Tory sat at one end of the table with Jordan at the other. Morgan sat next to Kevin and his wife while Josh, Alana, and her husband, Luke, were on the opposite side. She looked at the people she had grown to care about in Crystal Creek and thanked the Lord for bringing them into her life, especially Jordan. Their love was growing each day.
The End
Dear Reader
Thank you for reading Deadly Holiday, the third book in the Strong Women, Extraordinary Situations Series. There will be more books in the series coming soon. There will be a fourth book coming in the summer, highlighting another strong woman faced with dangerous circumstances, followed by a fifth one next winter.
Both Deadly Hunt, Deadly Intent and Deadly Holiday are also part of an Inspy Kisses collection with other authors—First Kisses, Sealed with a Kiss and Mistletoe Kisses. The collections are available wherever you buy ebooks.
Take care,
Margaret Daley
About Margaret
Bestselling author, Margaret Daley, is multi-published with over 90 titles and 5 million books in print worldwide. She had written for Harlequin, Abingdon, Kensington, Dell, and Simon and Schuster. She has won multiple awards, including the prestigious Carol Award, Holt Medallion and Inspirational Readers' Choice Contest.
She has been married for over forty years and has one son and four granddaughters. When she isn't traveling, she's writing love stories, often with a suspense thread and corralling her three cats that think they rule her household. To find out more about Margaret visit her website at http://www.margaretdaley.com.
Excerpt from Deadly Hunt
Tess Miller pivoted as something thumped against the door. An animal? With the cabin's isolation in the Arizona mountains, she couldn't take any chances. She crossed the distance to a combination-locked cabinet and quickly entered the numbers. After withdrawing the shotgun, she checked to make sure it was loaded then started toward the door to bolt it, adrenaline pumping through her veins.
Silence. Had she imagined the noise? Maybe her work was getting to her, making her paranoid. But as she crept toward the entrance, a faint scratching against the wood told her otherwise. Her senses sharpened like they would at work. Only this time, there was no client to protect. Just her own skin. Her heartbeat accelerated as she planted herself firmly. She reached toward the handle to throw the bolt.
The door crashed open before she touched the knob. She scrambled backwards and to the side at the same time steadying the weapon in her grasp. A large man tumbled into the cabin, collapsing face down at her feet. His head rolled to the side. His eyelids fluttered, then closed.
Stunned, Tess froze. She stared at the man's profile.
Who is he?
The stranger moaned. She knelt next to him to assess what was wrong. Her gaze traveled down his long length. Clotted blood matted his unruly black hair. A plaid flannel shirt, torn in a couple of places, exposed scratches and minor cuts. A rag that had been tied around his leg was soaked with blood. Laying her weapon at her side, she eased the piece of cloth down an inch and discovered a hole in his thigh, still bleeding.
He's been shot.
Is he alone? She bolted to her feet. Sidestepping his prone body, she snatched up the shotgun again and surveyed the area outside her cabin. All she saw was the sparse, lonely terrain. With little vegetation, hiding places were limited in the immediate vicinity, and she had no time to check further away. She examined the ground to see which direction he'd come from. There weren't any visible red splotches and only one set of large footprints coming from around the side of the cabin. His fall must have started his bleeding again.
Another groan pierced the early morning quiet. She returned to the man, knelt, and pressed her two fingers into the side of his neck. His pulse was rapid, th
ready, and his skin was cold with a slight bluish tint.
He was going into shock. Her emergency-care training took over. She jumped to her feet, grabbed her backpack off the wooden table and found her first aid kit. After securing a knife from the shelf next to the fireplace, she hurried back to the man and moved his legs slightly so she could close the door and lock it. She yanked her sleeping bag off the bunk, spread it open, then rolled the stranger onto it. When she'd maneuvered his body face-up, she covered his torso.
For a few seconds she stared at him. He had a day's growth of beard covering his jaw. Was he running away from someone—the law? What happened to him? From his disheveled look, he'd been out in the elements all night. She patted him down for a wallet but found no identification. Her suspicion skyrocketed.
Her attention fixed again on the side of his head where blood had coagulated. The wound wasn't bleeding anymore. She would tend that injury later.
As her gaze quickly trekked toward his left leg, her mind registered his features—a strong, square jaw, a cleft in his chin, long, dark eyelashes that fanned the top of his cheeks in stark contrast to the pallor that tinged his tanned skin. Her attention focused on the blood-soaked cloth that had been used to stop the bleeding.
Tess snatched a pair of latex gloves from her first aid kit, then snapped them on and untied the cloth, removing it from his leg. There was a small bullet hole in the front part of his thigh. Was that an exit wound? She prayed it was and checked the back of his leg. She found a larger wound there, which meant the bullet had exited from the front.
Shot from behind. Was he ambushed? A shiver snaked down her spine.
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