Undercover Jeopardy

by Kathleen Tailer

  Bethany took another step closer. “What did you say to us when we were in the stadium all tied up? Oh, yeah, you’re gonna be famous!” She pulled out her handcuffs. “Now set down that computer, stand up and put your hands behind your back.”

  He slowly set the computer aside and stood, but then he quickly put something in his mouth and then held his hands up and closed his eyes.

  “No!” Both Daniel and Bethany yelled it in unison, holstered their weapons and tried to get the substance out of his mouth, but he clamped his jaws together and wouldn’t open them. Within a few short moments, white foam started to ooze out between his lips and his body started to convulse. He fell to the ground, and Daniel kept trying to save him while Bethany pulled out her radio and called an ambulance for help. The faint smell of almonds hung in the air.

  “I need an emergency bus for a suspected cyanide poisoning,” she said hurriedly, and rattled off the address.

  “He’s seizing,” Daniel said. “He’s already unconscious and his pulse is weak. They’re not going to make it here in time.”

  Bethany felt in Westfield’s pocket and found a small empty packet. “He must have had this on him just in case he was captured.” She looked at his face that was already pale. “He chose the coward’s way out.” She stood, disgust and anger warring on her face. She kicked a chair, sending it flying across the room. “I didn’t want him dead! I wanted him in prison, but not dead!”

  “He made the choice,” Daniel said, feeling for a pulse. “You didn’t kill him. He did this to himself.” He stood, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands. “He’s gone.”

  EPILOGUE

  Daniel paced back and forth outside of the entrance to Rock City on Lookout Mountain, Georgia, just on the outskirts of Chattanooga. It had been almost three weeks since the big arrests from the Heritage Guard had come down, yet the case was still making huge headlines and being discussed on the nightly news on a regular basis. Christmas had come and gone, but he had barely had a chance to celebrate or spend time with Bethany because she had been so busy at the FBI with follow-up work from the case. His reputation and personal records had all been restored, and he had returned to his normal work at the Chattanooga Police Department, but he really missed working with Bethany side by side as they had on the Heritage Guard case. Today, she had asked for him to meet her here, but he had a sinking feeling that she was meeting him today only to say goodbye. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

  She had succeeded professionally beyond her wildest dreams, and he was sure that the FBI was going to offer her the assignment of her choice once things settled down at the bureau. Where would she go? California? New York City? The thought of losing her hung over his head like a huge storm cloud, ready to thunder and let loose a deluge of rain.

  She had never told him she loved him. It weighed heavily upon him. He had blurted out bits and pieces of his past and told her his feelings, but it obviously hadn’t convinced her to stay. He’d thought he’d done enough to get her trust him, but apparently, he hadn’t. He’d failed, and now she was going to break his heart for good.

  At least she was going to meet him and say goodbye. The last time, she had disappeared without a trace.

  His heart felt like a stone in his chest and the pain seemed to radiate out and seep into every other part of his body.

  He paced some more and watched in trepidation as he saw her pull her car into the parking lot, park and approach. She was wearing jeans, a red sweater and a blue coat that brought out the color in her cheeks and made her face look radiant. She smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Sorry, I’m a tad late. There was a car accident at the bottom of the mountain and the police are rerouting folks around it.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “I hope nobody was hurt.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Looked like a fender bender.” She reached over and gently touched his nose. “Hey, that’s really healing up nicely.”

  He laughed nervously. “Yeah, although I think it will be crooked for life. It’s a little souvenir of the Heritage Guard case that I’ll get to keep with me forever.” He took her hand and squeezed it, then tensely walked to the ticket booth. They bought tickets and together they entered the attraction. It was a beautiful day, and even though it was chilly, the sky was sunny and blue and they could see for miles from the bridges and overlook. Daniel was secretly glad that there weren’t many other people around, and they basically had the beautiful location to themselves.

  Daniel wanted to start a conversation, but he was so worried that today was the last time that he was going to see her that he didn’t even know how to begin.

  Bethany must have sensed his nervousness. She squeezed his hand. “I’m really glad you were available to meet today. I’m sorry I’ve been so out of pocket. I’ve missed you.”

  Daniel stopped walking and looked her straight in the eye. He took his free hand and gently touched her cheek. “I’ve missed you too.”

  They started walking again, then Daniel suddenly stopped and took both her hands. “Okay, I can’t take it anymore. Are you here to say goodbye? Just tell me now, okay? I mean, I’m glad you didn’t just disappear without telling me, but—”

  She stopped him with a kiss. He took a step back, surprised, but didn’t break the kiss.

  She took a step closer and twined her hands around his neck.

  When the kiss finally ended, he pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “That was a wonderful goodbye kiss.”

  She pulled back. “Who said I’m saying goodbye?”

  A small seed of hope was planted in his chest. Maybe God truly was the God of second chances, and had granted him a second chance with Bethany. He looked into her eye and saw—dare he hope—love reflected back at him. But would she say the words? “With all of your success at the FBI, I thought they would probably give you your choice of assignments.”

  “They did.”

  “Well, what did you choose?”

  She smiled. “They offered me a promotion right here in Chattanooga, so I took it.”

  He hugged her close. “I thought you would take New York, or something more exotic.”

  “Why would I do that?” she asked. She pulled back so she could see his face again and cupped his cheeks in her hands. “I love you, Daniel Morley. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  * * *

  Don’t miss Kathleen Tailer’s next thrilling novel, Perilous Pursuit.

  Available June 2019 wherever Love Inspired Suspense books and ebooks are sold.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Reunion on the Run by Amity Steffen.

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  Reunion on the Run

  by Amity Steffen

  ONE

  Roscoe’s fierce growl sent a chill skittering down Claire Mitchell’s spine. She slid back from the rickety table, bouncing to her feet as her dog continued to give his warning. It was gloomy in the old one-room hunting shack. A kerosene lantern cast a hazy glow over the notes she studied. She’d been on the run for weeks. From the outside, the shack should look unoccupied. The nights had become chilly but she hadn’t indulged in the luxury of a fire, too worried the smoke would give her away. There were only four windows in the small dwelling, one on each wall. She’d had to make do with what she’d been able to scrounge up. Threadbare bath towels had been tacked over each pane. They should block the minimal kerosene light, even in the evenings.

  It wasn’t dark yet but would be soon. Her heart slammed against her rib cage, each thump pushing ice through her veins. She’d been telling herself if someone found her, she was prepared. She’d almost believed the lie.

  She was a murder suspect.

  But she was not a worthy adversary of Xavier Ambrose’s hired henchmen.

  Roscoe growled again. Mild-mannered and loving most of the time, rottweilers were fiercely loyal protectors. Having his companionship and protection eased her mind, making it worth the extra trouble to keep him with her.

  His sturdy body guarded the door, the only way in—or out—of the shack. His teeth were bared and his posture rigid. There was no need for her to try to peek outside to confirm that she was about to be ambushed. Roscoe’s change in demeanor made it clear.

  “Hush!” She hissed the word under her breath. She was grateful the dog was well-trained, courtesy of Alex Vasquez, her ex-fiancé. He wouldn’t bark, giving away the fact that she wasn’t alone in the shack. She couldn’t chance the intruders hearing him growl, either. Roscoe was her best chance at escape.

  With trembling hands Claire shoved the notes she’d been working on into the backpack that rested at the center of the table. It cost her precious seconds, but the contents were even more precious. She slipped the backpack over her shoulders. She tugged at the cord around her neck, finding her poor excuse for a weapon at the end of it. Palming the vial of pepper spray, she snuffed out the flame in the lantern.

  Roscoe huffed, his huge body nimbly pacing back and forth in front of the doorway.

  Claire darted over to him. She pressed herself against the rough plank wall of the shack. Not for the first time she futilely wished the place had another escape route. The windows were small and simple, nothing more than single panes of glass built into the frames. They would need to be shattered because they couldn’t be wedged open. She wouldn’t risk the noise announcing an escape attempt, nor would she risk being sliced to ribbons trying to squeeze through the small space.

  “Heel.” The command was barely a whisper. Roscoe gave her a bewildered look before he complied.

  The doorknob jiggled. It sounded like a cannon against the silence.

  She had been under no illusion that she would be safe here indefinitely. That hadn’t stopped her from hoping for more time. With limited resources, two weeks hadn’t been nearly long enough to compile the evidence she needed to clear her name.

  “Claire, we know you’re in there,” a deep, gravelly voice taunted from the other side. “Open up and we’ll take it easy on you.”

  A second menacing voice warned, “Make us come in after you, and you might not live to regret it.”

  It was an empty threat. She was well aware of the fact that she might not live to regret it either way.

  Terror mingled with the intense determination to stay alive. A hard edge dug into her palm as she held her hand at eye level, poised and steady.

  Mia’s precious face flashed through her mind. Her dark curls, her spunky smile. It had been far too long since she’d been able to give her three-year-old daughter a hug. A kiss. Far too many nights had passed without reading her a bedtime story.

  For Mia, she had to get out of this mess. She would not leave her daughter parentless.

  The thin wood shuddered as a body slammed into it.

  Roscoe whined as he crouched, ready to attack.

  Please Lord, please Lord, please Lord, Claire silently prayed. She could string together nothing more coherent than this simple, frantic prayer. She trusted He knew what she was asking, even if she was far too panicked to find the right words to say.

  Another assault shook the entire shack. The flimsy door splintered at the bottom.

  Claire gritted her teeth and braced for the inevitable. She pressed herself as tightly as she could against the wall.

  When it shattered, pieces of wood flying everywhere, she was ready.

  Her first attacker blinked in surprise, his eyes trying to adjust to the gloom. He clearly did not expect Claire to be ready to face him head-on. She squeezed the trigger before he could swing his gun her way. He screamed in agony as the pepper spray shot out of the canister she held. A gun clattered at her feet. She kicked it, sending it flying across the cabin to land under the battered couch.

  Roscoe, snuffling and sneezing from the mist in the air, leaped at the second man before he could enter the cramped space. He slammed him to the ground as his gun went off. The window next to the door shattered, spraying glass that narrowly missed Claire.

  The first man clawed at his face, cursing and writhing in pain. The second man cried out, his gun falling to his side as Roscoe latched onto his forearm. The dog stood over him, teeth clenched tightly as the man tried to push him off.

  Claire stepped out of the cabin and gasped, sucking in fresh air. Though she’d used the stickier, gel-type pepper spray, the fumes still lingered. She blinked hard a few times, clearing her vision but not allowing herself a moment to slow down.

  “Heel!” Claire commanded after she grabbed the second gun and tossed it into the trees. Roscoe let go of his target and bounced to her side. Claire was ready. The moment Roscoe was out of her way, she shot off what was left of the pepper spray. The second man shrieked, his cries melding with his cohort’s.

  A third figure, dressed in black, emerged from the tree line. He shouted something at her, probably her name, but it was mostly drowned out by the sound of her heartbeat crashing through her ears.

  “Come.” She grated out the stern command, unwilling to let Roscoe go after the newest threat. These thugs worked for the man who’d had Jared, her husband, murdered. She knew they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a dog.

  Claire took off at a dead run, circling to the backside of the cabin. She lacked brute strength and she was outnumbered. If she’d known there was a third henchman, one who was able to pursue her, she may have been tempted to keep the gun. It was too late now. She prayed she hadn’t made a grave mistake. She had God on her side. He had brought her this far, she was counting on Him to bring her the rest of the way.

  Her hiking boots pounded across the thin edge of lawn before she charged full-speed into the thick copse of trees. The sun had just slipped past the horizon, plunging the world into the murky gray of twilight. Darkness would work to her advantage. She knew these woods. She’d already planned her escape through them.

  Adrenaline spilled through her body, making it easy to push ahead. Her heart pounded chaotically and her spine tingled, anticipating a bullet at any moment. She knew the two men at her door would be down and out for several minutes. The third man posed an enormous threat.

  She tore through the dense forest, dodging trees, leaping over fallen logs. Pine boughs and oak branches slapped at her, tore at her skin. Roscoe obediently raced alongside her.

  When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. This had become her mantra. She was in about as deep as she could get. She was drowning in troubles
but it gave her comfort to know she was never alone. He was always by her side.

  She didn’t dare a glance over her shoulder. She couldn’t waste precious seconds by slowing down, and if she looked while running she’d likely crash into a tree. It didn’t matter. She didn’t need to look. Claire had no doubt she was being pursued. She didn’t have to see him to know. She could feel his presence behind her. This knowledge drove her to move even faster.

  Her escape plan was on a constant loop, playing through her mind. Up ahead the woods were bisected by an overgrown logging trail. If she continued to run straight, she’d hit the trail eventually. The trail led to the gravel road that would ultimately spill onto a county road leading to the highway.

  Freedom was within her reach.

  If only she didn’t trip, crash into a tree or get shot in the back first.

  “Claire!” The harshness of her name grated out in frustration caused a sharp whimper of surprise to bubble up in her throat. She hadn’t realized her pursuer was so close. Her skin broke out in a chilled sweat and it had nothing to do with exertion. Her legs burned, and her lungs ached. She couldn’t move any faster. Even if she made it to the logging trail, with her pursuer so close, she’d never have the extra minutes she desperately needed to get away.

  Now that she was aware of his nearness, she could hear branches snapping and footsteps racing up behind her.

  She winced, fully prepared to be taken down.

  The man’s voice rang out again. Louder, clearer. Closer this time. “Roscoe! Come!”

  The sharp command was like a mental punch to the gut. She whirled reflexively, nearly tripping over her own feet at the sound of the unexpected voice. It was doubtful Xavier’s men knew the name of her dog. Even more doubtful they’d take the time to toss out a command. Not when they had an arsenal at their disposal. And that voice... It caused her heart to rattle because it was so familiar. Yet impossible.