“It’s okay, honey. We got him. Or Star did. Didn’t you see and hear her attacking? She was amazing.”
A sense of relief beyond anything she’d ever imagined bathed Zoe in calm as Linc held her close and strode across the tarmac, carrying her as if she didn’t weigh an ounce. “Star is okay?”
“She’s fine,” he assured her, as he placed her on a gurney near the rear of an ambulance.
While medics checked her vital signs, he held her hand. “Don’t try to talk anymore now. There’ll be plenty of time after you’ve recovered.”
“I didn’t get out, honest.” Her throat burned, yet she tried to continue explaining. “He pulled me through the window and—”
Linc gently placed two fingers over her mouth, following the movement of the gurney as the medics rolled it.
“You riding along, Sarge?” one of the medics asked.
“Me and the dog,” Linc said flatly. Star had rejoined him at his side. “Your patient is an important witness and I need to debrief her ASAP.” He leaned over the gurney and whispered into Zoe’s ear, “I also need to kiss her again, if she ever stops talking long enough.”
Smiling through the tears and lingering pain, Zoe went silent, then pointed to her closed mouth.
This time, she didn’t get the simple token of affection she’d expected. Linc’s kiss was so perfect, so wondrous, so filled with love she was overcome. Closing her eyes, she returned his feelings completely, committing her heart without another word. Never in her whole life, including the time she’d been married, had she been so moved, so emotionally connected to anyone.
Her arms encircled his neck, holding him close, until he gently unwound them and eased away. Zoe looked up and saw him smile. Sensed the depth of his sincerity when he whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
* * *
Linc was kicked back in a sickly green plastic-covered hospital chair next to Zoe’s bed, Star at his feet, when his captain entered the curtained cubicle.
Linc started to rise. Blackwood waved him back down. “As you were.”
“Did he confess?” Linc saw Captain Blackwood’s gaze shift to Zoe. She was hooked up to oxygen via a nasal cannula, so her face was visible.
“Yes, Orleck admitted everything.”
Linc heard Zoe sigh with relief. “That’s good,” he said to the captain, reaching for Zoe’s hand and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “What about Ahern?”
“Apparently innocent, at least of bothering Sergeant Sullivan. He may be a drug peddler but he isn’t a stalker.”
“Orleck admitted it all? Even how he managed to set up the warehouse fiasco?”
“Yes.” Blackwood turned to Zoe. “He and McNally had been following you, hoping to stage their fake shooting where you’d be the only one to see it so they could make you look crazy. Ducking into that warehouse provided a perfect staging area.”
“What about the fake blood?” Linc asked.
“He used a squib, same as they do in the movies. The mess was contained by her shirt.”
Linc was frowning. “What was his reasoning for going to all that trouble?”
“He wanted everybody to believe Zoe was mentally unbalanced and should be relieved of duty,” Blackwood explained. “They used that same fake blood stuff in her bedroom, just like the lab reported.”
Linc felt Zoe’s fingers tighten around his and squeezed back for moral support. “How about access? How did he get into her apartment?”
“Airman McNally handled master keys in the course of her duty, so that was all he needed. He admitted to entering the apartment multiple times, including hiding while Portia babysat. I’m glad he stayed out of sight until she left.”
Zoe found her voice then. “That was him?”
“Yes,” Blackwood said flatly. “Some of the other things he tried may not have come to light yet, but he swears his intentions weren’t lethal—until tonight.” He stepped closer to Zoe. “You can go home whenever you’re ready. Your duty schedule is being adjusted to give you several more weeks off with pay, so you can recuperate.”
Her “Thank you, sir” was hoarse, raspy and sounded very emotional. “If they keep me here, I’ll need someone to watch Freddy.”
“I can help do that,” Linc said. “And we can always let him go back to his regular schedule if I need to work.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” Zoe insisted. Trying to speak louder brought on a coughing fit. Linc got to his feet and handed her a glass of ice water. Their hands didn’t just brush in passing as he kept hold of the plastic tumbler and she cupped her fingers over his.
Justin Blackwood cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I can see it’s high time I gave you two some privacy. Take care of yourself, Sergeant Sullivan. Your life should quiet down now.”
Linc waited until the curtains closed behind his commanding officer before settling a hip on the side of the narrow cot. He set the water tumbler aside and grasped both of Zoe’s hands. “I know how you can feel even safer. Freddy, too.”
“Oh? Do you plan to bring Star and crash on my sofa for the rest of my life?”
“Something like that.” He paused, blaming the tightness in his own throat on empathy for her. “I—I thought you might like to get married.”
Zoe gasped. “Married?”
“Uh-huh. You know the drill. White dress, church, flowers, the whole nine yards.”
“You want to marry me?”
He grinned at her, wondering if she was truly as shocked as she pretended to be. “Yeah. I’m as surprised as you are. It kind of sneaked up on me.”
Zoe’s eyes glistened. “What did?”
“Love. I fought against my feelings for you as long as I could, but when I heard that shot and saw it hit right where I thought you were sitting, I had to admit how deeply I cared. I love everything about you.”
“Including my son?”
“Especially him.” Linc raised their joined hands and kissed hers. “I know this is sudden, and you’re not deathly afraid of the Red Rose Killer the way other people are, but I’d still like the chance to stay close to you, to protect and look after you and Freddy.”
“Only if you stop seeing me as a needy victim and take me as a life partner,” Zoe whispered. “I don’t want to be an extension of your job. I want to be your wife.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I do. I don’t know how long I’ve been in love with you, but I knew we were right for each other even before I admitted it to myself.”
“When do you want to schedule the wedding?” Linc asked, assuming she would put him off for a reasonable amount of time rather than rush into anything as important as marriage.
“I had the lacy white gown once,” she said tenderly. “If we wear our dress uniforms, we can get Pastor Harmon to make it official in his church office as soon as possible.”
“You don’t want time to plan a big party?”
“Those are mostly for friends and family. I don’t need that,” Zoe said, giving Linc a smile that melted his heart. “Star can be my maid of honor and a member of Security Forces can be your best man. We can get Felicity to take pictures, too. She and Westley married quickly, so I’m sure she’d be delighted to help us do the same.”
Linc had to laugh. “I’ve just proposed and already you have the whole ceremony planned.”
“It pays to be organized,” she replied, freeing her hands from his and opening her arms. “How about a kiss to seal the bargain?”
“How about more than one?”
“Works for me,” Zoe said, blushing.
Linc was more than happy to oblige.
EPILOGUE
Ethan Webb barged into Pastor Harmon’s office in time to watch Linc bend Zoe backward over his arm like an iconic photo and kiss his bride with gusto.
Zoe blushed, Freddy giggled and applauded, Star barked and others in the small intimate gathering laughed. Linc righted her, grinning at the lieutenant. “You missed it, Ethan.”
“I caught the best part. My apologies to both of you. I was stuck on the phone with my former father-in-law. Looks like my K-9 and I are going to be loaned to Baylor Marine Base after all.”
“That’s tough,” Linc said. “I probably shouldn’t mention exes at my own wedding, but I hope yours doesn’t drive you crazy while you’re over there.”
“Not a chance. I’ll be assigned to work with her father, Lieutenant Colonel Masters, not Jillian. I’ll manage.”
Zoe reached out her hand and laid it gently on his uniform sleeve. “Linc told me a little about your problems and why you’re being sent to Baylor. We’ll pray for your safety and success.”
She saw the lieutenant pause to glance from her to Linc and back again before he asked, “Both of you?”
Linc nodded. “Yes. I finally woke up and realized it wasn’t God who had abandoned me, it was I who had left Him.”
It warmed Zoe’s heart to see the relief and joy on Ethan’s face. She shared his sentiment. Stumbling through life without faith was possible of course, but with it, her view of everything had changed. She’d even been able to forgive her brother up to a point. She did love the person Boyd had once been, the little boy who had done his best to survive in the toxic environment of their family home. Now she knew there was sadly no going back for Boyd and had accepted the inevitable.
Freed, in a way, she would go forward with her husband and her son. The best was yet to come for them. Starting right now. She slipped both arms around Linc’s neck, stood on tiptoe and smiled through a mist of happy tears. “I think Felicity missed getting a picture of our wedding kiss when it was cut short. We need to repeat it.”
Linc didn’t argue. As cameras, as well as cell phones, clicked, he gave his new bride exactly what she’d asked for—and more. He kissed her until they were both breathless, then bent to scoop up Freddy and included the laughing child in a group hug.
Zoe was so happy her tears flowed. It was official. They were a real family.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from PRIMARY SUSPECT by Laura Scott.
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Dear Reader,
This is a story of redemption and forgiveness. Even when our past is troubled, there is always hope, always a way to go on. Personally, I don’t know how anyone copes daily without a saving faith in Jesus Christ. He has brought me through many trials when I saw only dark clouds and imagined no rainbows, no possibilities of future happiness.
The struggles of Zoe and Linc were intensified because they both dwelled on an unhappy past rather than accepting the new chance for love that was awaiting them. We can’t go back and fix mistakes—and would probably make things worse if we tried. Each challenge is a way to learn and grow, each new day a precious gift. We only need to accept God’s love and forgiveness, trust Him and willingly place the rest of our lives in His care.
I can be reached by email at [email protected], or via my website, www.valeriehansen.com.
Blessings,
Valerie
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Primary Suspect
by Laura Scott
ONE
Fire Investigator Mitch Callahan cautiously approached the burned-out shell of a warehouse located on Milwaukee’s south side.
Why had Fire Chief Rick Nelson requested a meeting here, late on a Wednesday night? Mitch had picked up the case after Jeff Walker’s untimely death from a sudden massive heart attack and had already deemed the cause to be arson, despite the attempt to make it look like faulty wiring. He was sure he hadn’t missed any sort of key evidence. His boss’s voice had sounded strained on the message. Jeff’s files didn’t jibe with his investigational findings, so maybe this meeting was related to this disturbing trend.
Either way, he wasn’t about to dismiss a direct order from his boss, no matter how unusual.
The pungent scent of smoke hung heavily in the air, something he was as used to as breathing. Stepping carefully, he crossed what had once been the threshold of a doorway. The interior was dark, so he pulled his flashlight from his back pocket and flicked it on, the narrow beam illuminating the interior.
“Hello? Anyone here?” he called, meticulously placing his feet around blackened two-by-fours strewn over the concrete floor. The place didn’t look much different than it had earlier in the day, although seeing it at nighttime added an eerie dimension.
The interior of the building had sustained significant damage, but the metal walls of the warehouse were still standing. There were gaps in the metal roof from steel that had warped in the heat, wide enough that he could see stars flickering in the night sky.
This place had less damage compared to the two others he’d investigated over the past few months. Fire-damaged buildings were notoriously unstable, which made it doubly odd that his boss had requested to meet here tonight.
And where was Rick anyway? Mitch had been running late, but there was still no sign of his boss. Mitch stood for a moment, sweeping the area with his flashlight, debating heading back outside to wait.
A hint of blue caught his eye, making him frown. He aimed the flashlight toward the only bit of color amongst the blackened wreckage. He sucked in a harsh breath when he saw what looked like two denim-covered legs peeking out from beneath a pile of rubble way in the back corner of the building.
Was that a person buried under there?
His boss?
No, it couldn’t be. The legs looked too narrow, as if they belonged to a skinny person rather than Rick Nelson’s heavy-set frame. When he’d cleared the scene earlier that day, there hadn’t been anyone inside. Besides, the blue denim wasn’t blackened with smoke, so whoever this person was, he or she had come into the warehouse somewhere between five in the evening and now, nine thirty at night. Mitch moved quickly forward, just as he heard a noise behind him.
He started to turn around, but a second too late. Something hard crashed down, sending him sprawling forward. Pain exploded along the left side of his neck and shoulders, and he hit the concrete floor with a bone-jarring thud.
Then there was nothing but darkness.
* * *
Pain reverberating through his skull made him moan and shift, searching for a more comfortable position. Mitch abruptly realized he was lying on concrete rather than his bed. He blinked and found himself not far from a small flashlight lying on the floor.
His flas
hlight. It took a few seconds for him to remember that he had been at the scene of a warehouse fire for a meeting with his boss when he’d been hit from behind.
The side of his neck was wet and sticky with blood. With a groan, he forced himself to his knees, grabbed his fallen flashlight, then staggered to his feet. He had no idea if the person who’d assaulted him was still there, and his instincts were screaming at him to get out.
Now!
He took two steps before he remembered the blue jeans. No way could he leave without knowing if the person lying amidst the rubble was alive.
Sweeping his flashlight around the interior of the warehouse, he didn’t see any sign of anyone hanging around. The blackened two-by-four that had been used to hit him was still on the ground, one edge stained with something dark and sticky, and he assumed it was his blood.
Moving as quickly as he could manage with his head pounding and his neck feeling like it was on fire, he made his way back toward the denim-clad legs. As he came closer, he could see the body was that of a woman with long blond hair. She was only partially covered with debris, so he leaned forward to feel for a pulse.
Nothing. He moved a two-by-four and saw the nasty hole in her chest, likely caused by a bullet. Her skin was cold, as if she’d been dead for at least thirty minutes, maybe more. He moved the hair away from her face and froze.
Janice Valencia?
Horror stricken by the fact that he’d once dated the dead woman, he recoiled from the body. He put his hand in his pocket to get his phone to call the authorities, when he heard the wail of sirens.
And suddenly he knew that whoever had assaulted him must have called the police. Was the intent for Mitch to be found here with Janice’s body? For what purpose?
Nothing good. Mitch left the warehouse, stumbling toward his truck. He couldn’t afford to trust the police, not if there was the slightest chance his boss had set him up. Maybe that sounded paranoid, but that’s what happened when you found yourself alone with a dead body. Waiting for the cops and emergency responders to arrive on the scene wasn’t an option.
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