by Connie Mann
Table of Contents
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
Epilogue
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PRAISE FOR TANGLED LIES
“Action and danger bring coastal Florida to life as compelling characters seek to unravel long-held secrets before time runs out. In Tangled Lies, Mann does it again . . . A surefire must-read.”
—Lisa Carter, award-winning romantic-suspense author
“Connie Mann has penned a romantic suspense that captures the reader on the first page with a deadly secret and refuses to let go until the last word—masterful pacing.”
—DiAnn Mills, bestselling author and Christy Award winner
“Connie Mann has crafted a unique suspense with the sea as a backdrop for hidden danger and exciting romantic interludes. Prepare to be swept away!”
—Katy Lee, RITA Award–nominated author
PRAISE FOR ANGEL FALLS
“This heart-pounding novel doesn’t stint on its characters . . . masterful.”
—RT Book Reviews, four stars
“If you’re looking for nonstop action and heart-pounding excitement, then Angel Falls is just the read you’ve been looking to find. Connie Mann deftly weaves danger and suspense into a story that left me sitting on the edge of my seat, flipping the pages.”
—Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“A perfect blend of fast-paced thriller, inspiration, and romance.”
—Fresh Fiction
“In Angel Falls, Connie Mann has penned an edgy, gritty book that pushes the boundaries of Christian romance fiction while giving readers a hero and heroine to root for.”
—Irene Hannon, bestselling author of the Guardians of Justice series
“A riveting read starting with the first page all the way through the book.”
—The Suspense Zone
“Dark, intense, and breathlessly paced, Connie Mann’s edgy novel, Angel Falls, is exciting, romantic suspense that kept me guessing. With tight writing and fast-paced action, Connie does a fantastic job of grabbing the reader from the first page and never turning loose until the last. Angel Falls is not your usual Christian suspense. Filled with intrigue, murder, and sensuality, and set in Brazil’s steamy underbelly, Connie’s debut is riveting.”
—Linda Goodnight, author of A Snowglobe Christmas and Rancher’s Refuge and contributing author of the Prairie Romance Collection
“Angel Falls is a powerful read from the beginning with a hero and heroine who emotionally grip you and won’t let go. The chemistry between Regina and Brooks along with the suspense keeps you riveted to the story.”
—Margaret Daley, author of the Men of the Texas Rangers series
“Connie Mann takes her readers on the heart-stopping journey of a woman who puts her life on the line for an orphaned baby boy and her heart in the hands of the man who came to save them. It was a remarkable story I won’t soon forget.”
—Sharon Sala, author of the Rebel Ridge trilogy
WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT TRAPPED!
“Romance, intrigue, and suspense with a Florida twist. Great read!”
—Captain Shelia Kerney, United States Coast Guard–licensed captain
“In Trapped! the author lets the reader feel the heat and sweat and smell the fear from unknown dangers along the river. Her fast pace and stunning conclusion will give the reader a fascinating ride.”
—Martha Powers, award-winning author of Death Angel, Bleeding Heart, and Sunflower
ALSO BY CONNIE MANN
The Safe Harbor Series
Tangled Lies
Other Titles
Angel Falls
Trapped!
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2017 by Connie Neumann
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Waterfall Press, Grand Haven, MI www.brilliancepublishing.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Waterfall Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781477809020
ISBN-10: 1477809023
Cover design by Faceout Studio
For Harry—thank you for being my hero, greatest cheerleader, and best friend.
And for all those who defend and protect our water resources, in big and small ways. Thank you.
CONTENTS
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
Epilogue
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter 1
March—Rural Virginia
Eve Jackson crouched in the mud outside the chain-link fence and wished she’d worn different shoes. Wet sludge oozed into her new ankle boots and her fingers were numb, but a niggle of excitement bubbled up just the same. If her informant’s tip panned out, she’d finally have the proof she needed to nail this company for contaminating the nearby stream. She’d been after them for almost a year but had never been able to come up with hard evidence. If she got it this morning, every shivering minute would be worth it. Nobody messed with the water supply and made children sick, doggone it. Not if she was around to stop it.
She lowered the viewfinder on her brand-new digital camera and rubbed her arms in the predawn light. She’d grabbed her peacoat on the way out the door, but the heavy wool was no match for a cold, damp stakeout, never mind that it was already March. She hadn’t expected the sudden dow
npour as she’d driven to this sleepy little town in the Virginia countryside, either.
She’d been staked out behind the aging warehouse for almost three hours. Her cramped muscles were beyond stiff, and she would have traded her left arm for a cup of coffee and a hot bath. Nothing and no one had moved since she’d arrived.
She shifted position and wobbled. She flailed her arms and grabbed the fence just before she landed backward in the mud. The camera strap yanked her neck as the camera smacked her chest, but at least it stayed out of the mud. By the time she steadied herself, she was breathing hard, wondering if this would prove to be yet another wasted night.
Several minutes later, her head snapped up when she heard the distinctive rumble of a diesel engine firing up nearby.
Here we go.
Her heart rate quickened as she raised her camera and zoomed in on the activity near the warehouse. Several more trucks rumbled down the dirt road from the main highway. All of them tankers.
Oh yeah. We’ve got you now. She clicked the shutter and gasped when the flash went off. She ducked, panicked. What if someone had seen it? She curled around the camera and leaned against the fence post for support, fumbling with the menu, desperate to fix the settings. When she was sure she had it set properly, she poked her head up and took another picture.
The flash went off again.
What was wrong with her? She fumbled around, afraid to use her phone’s flashlight and draw yet more attention. She popped her head up again. A quick peek confirmed that no one seemed to have noticed her.
Her hands trembled as she raised the viewfinder and took another picture. No flash this time. Thank you, Jesus. She peeked again, anger and excitement building at what she saw. This was why she’d come. The slimeballs had pulled their trucks over to the stream behind the warehouse, attached hoses, and casually started pouring the nasty contents directly into the stream. As though this weren’t a problem. But it was and they knew it. They’d deliberately positioned themselves behind the building, where they couldn’t be seen from the main road.
Your secret won’t stay secret for long, Eve thought as she snapped dozens of pictures. She couldn’t wait to tell her boss. Mr. Braddock would thump his desk in triumph and be as excited as she was to see them brought to justice.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming text, and panic spiked when she saw Sasha’s number. With Mama Rosa fighting cancer, early-morning messages from her sister were never good news.
Mama dehydrated from chemo side effects. We’re headed to hospital. Call me later in a.m.
Dear God, no. Eve stared at the phone, trying to think past the knot of fear that paralyzed her whenever she let what-if scenarios take hold. She had to stay focused, think.
Her phone buzzed again with an incoming call. Thinking it was Sasha, she grabbed it and said, “How bad is it? Just tell me.”
But it wasn’t Sasha. It was her boss at Braddock Environmental.
“Just what in the Sam Hill were you thinking, Jackson?” Mr. Braddock shouted.
Eve pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it a moment, confused, not only by the question, but by the fact he’d called her in the early-morning hours. “Sir? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” And then, with a sudden, sinking feeling, she knew. This had to be about Woodward.
“Don’t play dumb, Jackson. It doesn’t become you.” Pages rustled and then, “The front-page story in USA Today leads with, ‘Congressman Woodward denies illegal dumping. Threatens lawsuit against Braddock Environmental.’” Each word came out clipped.
“Sir, I can explain.”
“You’d better. And fast.”
“I have proof of the dumping. We had Mark out at the congressman’s industrial park watching and taking pictures at night. Woodward had heavy equipment out there and a bunch of men working to bury half a truckload of rusted fifty-gallon drums in a field in the back of the property.”
“And did Mark follow up, verify the contents of those drums?”
“He wasn’t able to get that close. But my sources told me that Woodward was burying oil and grease from his restaurants all over the city. And the condition those drums were in, they’d start leaking in no time.”
“And if I told you every single one of those drums is empty? Then what would you have to say for yourself?”
“I’d say he’s lying. Mark saw them working.”
“But we have no actual proof, one way or the other. And now, since he’s on alert, there is no way we’ll get back on the property for another look. What were you thinking, talking to a reporter about this? Especially before you talked to me.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t want Congressman Woodward appointed to that task force. He could destroy years of progress. I was trying to apply pressure so they would appoint Congressman Milton instead. He’s much more conscious of environmental concerns.”
Eve heard a thwack, as though he’d smacked the paper onto his desk.
“My phone has been ringing all night, mainly the congressman screaming in my ear. He wants a formal apology from you, in person, and he wants a written retraction in the paper. I’ve already sent our statement to the paper. You are due at the congressman’s office at ten this morning.”
“But, I don’t—”
“Not another word, Jackson. If you weren’t so good at your job and your instincts weren’t generally so right on, I would fire you this minute. But as it is, I want you to avoid reporters and work from home until this blows over.”
She’d been so busy biting back her anger—she knew that sneaky congressman was guilty—she almost missed the last thing he said. “You want me to work from home?”
“Yes. Stay out of the public eye until a war breaks out somewhere or something else takes center stage in the news cycle.”
She wasn’t going to hide. “He’s guilty, Mr. Braddock, and I’m going to prove it. He won’t get away with this.”
He sighed. “Not this time, Eve. I’ve already assigned someone else to this case. You’ll hand over your notes, and they’ll take it from there.”
Eve thought she might break a tooth from clenching her teeth. He couldn’t take this away from her. “Sir, with all due respect, I’m not sure—”
“Do you want to continue working here or not, Jackson?”
Shock and a frisson of panic shivered through her. “I love my job, sir.” Which was absolutely true. Ten years ago, she’d interned for the crusty old gent while studying at the University of Florida, and he’d hired her right after graduation. She’d never looked back.
“Then go home. I’ll email you several press releases I need written, and I have a lead on another violation I want you to pursue. Carefully. And out of the limelight.”
Her chin came up, and before she’d thought it through, she said, “Actually, if it’s all right with you, I’m going to take some time off and go to Safe Harbor instead.”
“Time off? You never take time off, Jackson.” He paused. “That’s in Florida, where your family is.”
“Yes, sir. Mama Rosa is back in the hospital.”
“Tough thing, cancer. Go on, then. Take all the time you need. But stay in touch.”
“Yes, sir. And thank you, sir.”
The last words were drowned out by the sound of sirens, getting closer with every second. Eve slid the phone into her pocket and looked toward the warehouse.
Two things registered at once. The tankers were gone, and someone near the warehouse was shining a flashlight toward the woods.
Right where she was hiding.
She’d been made.
Slipping and sliding, Eve scrambled back to her car and raced off down the dirt road that led away from the warehouse. Her heart pounded as she drove, one eye on her rearview mirror. She hadn’t been trespassing—but she didn’t want to chat with the cops tonight, either. Not until she had all her proof tied up with a nice, neat, no-wiggle-room bow.
She didn’t take a deep breath until she was back on the high
way, headed to her small apartment in DC, no sign of flashing lights in her rearview mirror.
Tampa, Florida
After her meeting with Congressman Woodward, Eve staggered off the jetway in Tampa, and the humidity smacked her in the face like a soggy washcloth. She hadn’t slept on the noon flight, too consumed with worries about Mama Rosa to shut down her brain.
She climbed into her rental car and headed north, hands trembling slightly from too much caffeine and too little sleep. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she headed away from the noise and traffic of Tampa and eventually entered the small-town atmosphere of Safe Harbor.
Her first stop would be Mama Rosa, though the little girl inside her wanted to hide, pretend that if she didn’t actually see Mama, she wasn’t really sick. But Eve didn’t hide, so she parked her hybrid Prius outside the community hospital and steeled herself. She spotted Mama’s aging-but-immaculate Buick and Jesse’s pickup. Jesse and Sasha. She grinned. Eve still couldn’t believe Jesse had convinced her commitment-phobic foster sister to marry him.
She hurried inside to the room number Sasha’s text had indicated and eased inside. “Hey, everyone,” she said quietly.
She thought she’d prepared herself, but Mama’s sickly gray skin color scared Eve to the marrow of her bones. Mama’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled, so Eve hurried over to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“I’m not dying yet, my girl. No need to rush down here.”
Even her voice didn’t sound right, but Eve smiled, as she knew Mama wanted her to. “Glad to hear it. I mostly wanted to see if Jesse was handling Sasha all right.”
She winced when Sasha smacked her on the arm before tugging her into a bone-crushing hug.
“You’re still a pain in the neck, Eve. You know that, right?”
“And you’re still so easy to tease.” She pulled back. “You good?”
Sasha met her gaze with eyes that shone and then patted her belly. “Actually, I’m better than good.”
Eve glanced down at the small mound, then back up to Sasha’s beaming face, and as the words registered, she let out a squeal, then clapped a hand over her mouth and hugged her again, hard. “Oh, my goodness. You’re pregnant?”
“We are.”
“Oh. That’s so awesome.” They all laughed as tears ran down her cheeks, typical Eve, but at that moment, she didn’t care. This was too cool.