Close To Danger (Westen Series Book 4)

by Suzanne Ferrell

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 by Suzanne Ferrell

  Cover Art by Lyndsey Lewellen

  Formatting Libris in CAPS

  Release date: October 2017

  Ferrell, Suzanne (2017), Close to Danger,

  A Romantic Suspense Novel.

  Suzanne Ferrell.

  All rights reserved to the Author

  This book and parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means - electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise - without prior written permission of the author and publisher, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law. The only execption is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Table of Contents

  Begin Reading...

  Cover

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Other Suzanne Ferrell Books...

  Close to Danger

  A Romantic Suspense Novel

  By

  Suzanne Ferrell

  DEDICATION

  This one’s for Dave.

  You’ve been such a good and loyal friend for so many years, especially when things have been so bad. It’s like having a second son. Believe me, this book wouldn’t have gotten written without your support to all of us! Thanks for not blinking an eye when I’d text you questions about weapons.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The Ferrell team always deserves a big thank you!

  I’d like to think my cover artist, Lyndsey Lewellen of LLewellen Designs. Your covers are making the fictional town of Westen come alive!

  My formatter at Libris in CAPS. Mitch always does such a great job!

  And my editor, Jo Davis. Thanks for helping make this story the best they can be!

  AUTHOR'S NOTE

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for trying my Indie published book. I understand that there are many options for you to spend your money on and am honored that you chose one of my books. For that reason my team and I strive to put out the best product we can from the awesome cover design through the entire editing and formatting process. For my part, I hope to deliver an entertaining story that keeps you wondering what’s going to happen next.

  If at the end of this book you find you simply loved the story and characters, please consider giving it a positive rating or review. In this brave new book world, the only way for a good story to find its way into the hands of other readers is if the people who loved it let others know about it. We authors appreciate any little bit of help you can give us.

  If, when you reach the end of this story, you think, “Wow, I’d love to know what’s next in Suzanne’s world of characters,” then consider joining my newsletter mailing list. I only send out newsletters a few times a year plus extra ones in anticipation of any new releases, so it won’t be flooding your inbox on a weekly basis, but will keep you abreast on any changes I may have coming.

  Also, I love to hear from readers. If you have any questions or comments, or just want to say “hi”, please feel free to visit my webpage for some extra tidbits or check out my Pinterest boards. You can connect with me via Facebook, Twitter or through my email: suzanne@suzanneferrell.com

  Now the important part: Here’s Wes and Chloe’s story. I hope you will love them as much as I did while I was writing Close To Danger:

  CHAPTER ONE

  Click-click-click-click.

  Chloe Roberts’s heels struck a staccato-beat against the concrete flooring. The clicks echoed in the parking garage. The closer she got to her car, the faster she moved. The rhythm of her stride sounded like the Allegro portion of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony—quick, choppy, intense.

  Great. Now she was bringing music into her crazy.

  Three feet from her car, she hit the unlock button. She nearly leapt into her driver’s seat.

  Shutting the door hard, she hit the lock button immediately and gripped the steering wheel with both hands to stop her trembling.

  You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.

  With the mantra running like an audio loop in her head, she closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly, willing her pulse to reduce to a normal rate. She might not be a doctor like her sister, Dylan, but even she was pretty sure the machinegun-firing of her heart wasn’t a good thing.

  “Dammit,” she muttered, releasing her grip on the wheel and slamming her palms against it.

  She forced her eyes open and stared out her rearview mirror. Nothing moved in the florescent lighting of the parking garage. Quickly, she switched her gaze to the side mirrors to be sure no one had crept up on her while her eyes had been closed. Again, nothing moved.

  Rubbing her hands over her face, she slumped against the leather upholstery. She should’ve had the security guard walk her to the car. It was late at night. Plenty of the female law clerks and secretaries did that on a regular basis when they worked late. No one would think anything of her asking for an escort.

  But she wasn’t just a single woman working late. She was Chloe Roberts, junior associate with Berger, Dennison and Napier, who wanted to make partner. To show fear of anything meant showing that she was vulnerable, defenseless, a helpless female. Something none of the men in her office would respect.

  Dale Napier.

  Her boss’s face came into her mind and she snorted. Not like old Dale was ever going to respect her anyways. The man was a throwback to the nineteen-fifties. Three months ago, he’d made a pass at her when no one was in the office to hear him. She’d put him in his place by asking if he really wanted a sexual harassment suit. He’d backed off immediately.

  Not long after that the phone calls started.

  Could it be him? She’d asked herself that several times. Each time dismissing the idea. He might be slimy enough to try and get a little ass on the side, but his wife had him by the balls financially and no way would he risk his bank account, not to get even with a lawyer who turned him down.

  Besides, there were others who were far angrier with her than Dale.

  Nathan Tremont.

  Yeah, the hot-headed owner of five area sporting goods stores hadn’t taken kindly to losing to her in court. It thrilled her to watch the jury’s decision that he should pay the medical bills plus damages to her client for her injuries and loss of income sustained when Tremont t-boned her in a collision. Yeah, Tremont would definitely want to get revenge on her.

  Derrick Whitehead.<
br />
  There was another man who wouldn’t be above terrorizing her. She’d taken his ex-wife’s case pro-bono. She’d wanted him to leave her alone and leave their kids alone. Chloe had filed restraining orders against the professional football strong-safety four times, only to have him violate each one. The last time ended with her client in the ICU and her kids living with her parents. Thankfully, it also ended with Whitehead now serving twenty years for assault and kidnapping. That made two men who wanted to hurt her.

  Tap-tap.

  “Ahhh!” she screamed lurching away from the driver’s window and the dark-suited body standing there.

  “Ms. Roberts?” the man lowered his body for her to see his face. “You okay in there?”

  Dashaun, the security guard.

  “Oh, thank God,” she whispered, willing her heart to slow once more as she lowered her window, clutching one hand to the center of her chest. “You scared the life out of me, Dashawn.”

  He scrutinized her from head to toe, concern definitely in his dark eyes. “Sorry, ma’am. I saw you running through the garage on the security camera. Just wandered if you were in some kind of trouble?”

  “No,” she hurried to reassure him with a shaky laugh. “Halfway through the parking garage I realized I was alone, and the dark outside…” She left the words to trail off, hoping he would believe she had a fear of the dark.

  With a nod of his head, he gave her a reassuring smile. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Ms. Roberts. My little sister has always been afraid of the dark. Next time, you give me a call and I’ll be happy to give you an escort.”

  “I will. And thank you for checking up on me,” she said, returning his smile.

  “No problem. I’ll just wait ‘til you’re on your way,” he said, stepping several feet away from her car.

  Embarrassed that he’d seen her fear and that she’d acted like a kid panicking in a haunted house, Chloe started her car and gave Dashaun a wave before she pulled out. She forced herself to concentrate on driving until she was out of the business district and on the interstate towards Mount Adams, the hilltop area where her condo sat.

  It was ridiculous that she was letting a few anonymous phone calls make her feel so scared. In law school she’d stood up to both male classmates and some professors who didn’t think women should be pursuing a career in law—many of whom believed if they talked over her, she’d turn tail and run. She hadn’t. In high school she’d gone out for cheerleader even though she didn’t have a mother like the other girls to do her hair and makeup, or haul her to cheer camps or competitions. She’d not only made the team, but became team captain her junior and senior years—all with the support of her older sister Bobby, who’d been better than any mother as chaperone. And in middle school she’d stood up to the cruelest girls in school when they’d made fun of Dylan for being so smart and quite the nerd. Breaking Cindy Seacort’s nose in two places had been worth every minute of the month-long detention.

  So why were these texts and phone calls making her so nervous?

  Because they were anonymous.

  They lurked in the dark.

  Like monsters.

  Ever since she was a little girl she’d been frightened of terrible things that she couldn’t see in the dark. Things that came out of nowhere. Threatened her family. Killed her parents.

  She clenched the steering wheel once more. Heart racing again, she exited the interstate and pulled into a local fast food parking lot.

  Breathe.

  Slowly she let the fear dissipate. She wasn’t an eight-year old little girl whose whole world had turned upside down by tragedy.

  Her phone buzzed, startling her. With shaky hands she pulled it out of her hand bag. A new text message had come through. Her shoulders sagged in relief. It was her sister, Bobby.

  Just landed at the airport in Cleveland. Honeymoon was great. Call you in the morning.

  Chloe smiled and wiped at the tears that had welled in her eyes. Despite the terror her life had turned into lately, hearing her big sister and new brother-in-law were back in Ohio safe, sound and apparently very happy was just what she needed tonight. She’d been worried when Bobby decided to stay in Westen, becoming a deputy sheriff and falling head-over-heels in love with the Gage Justice, the town sheriff. Now they were married and expecting their first child. Despite missing her older sister, Chloe saw first-hand how happy she was last month at the wedding. If anyone deserved that kind of happiness it was Bobby.

  Now anticipating talking to Bobby in the morning, her world didn’t seem quite so dark and dangerous. Relaxed, she put her car in gear once more and headed to the safety of her home.

  Once home and securely inside her condo, she double-checked the deadbolts on both doors then reset the alarm system. Snagging a bag of chips from the cupboard, the bottle of wine from the counter and a glass. What she needed was a warm bubble bath, a snuggle in her warm bed and over indulging in a good book.

  “You need something nutritious, Chloe,” she heard Bobby saying in her head. “You can’t live on junk food and alcohol.”

  Grinning in mock rebellion at the conversation they’d had over the years, she poured wine into the glass and gave a mock salute northward towards Westen, the town Bobby now lived in. “Maybe you can’t, big sister, but tonight it’s exactly what I need to relax.”

  By the time she’d finished her first glass of wine and a good thirty-minute soak in hot bubbly water, the fear and tension that had driven her hurriedly through the parking garage had seeped away from her body and mind.

  Really, how scared should she be? A few phone calls with no one speaking when she answered. Odd texts about what she was wearing, where she’d had lunch. Nothing but an anonymous bully too cowardly to confront her face-to-face. Up until tonight, she’d handled the person like she would any other nuisance, ignoring it and going on with her life. So what had triggered tonight’s near panic?

  The dark.

  Ever since she was a little girl and Bobby had wakened her in the middle of the night to tell her there’d been an accident and both her parents were dead, she’d hated the dark.

  Slowly she climbed out of the tub, toweled off as the water drained from her tub. She pulled on her flannel pajamas poured a second glass of wine and crawled into her bed, drawing the two thick quilts up around her. Just as she opened her romance novel to indulge in some reading, her phone buzzed.

  A text.

  Probably Bobby checking in since she hadn’t bothered to reply to the earlier one. She picked the phone up from the charger where she’d set it before her bath.

  Yep a text.

  She tapped the envelope icon.

  If you’re going to run away from me, you might want to ditch the heels next time.

  She’d felt it. He’d been there, watching her. Ready to pounce.

  And with that, her heart jumped from a normal rhythm to staccato panic.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You sleep okay in there last night, Earl?” Deputy Sheriff Wes Strong asked through metal bars of the old-fashioned jail cell door.

  The man curled up on the bed slowly rose to a sitting position. “Got a bit cold last night. Deputy Jason had to give me an extra blanket. Mighty nice of him.” Earl’s gravelly voice, achieved from years of smoking, was rougher than usual. Probably due to an uninterrupted sleep for once. Two hard, hacking coughs came next.

  Wes shook his head as he opened the cell door. Earl Graves was the small town of Westen, Ohio’s resident homeless man. A Vet from the Vietnam War who never quite found his way back into the normal stream of society. Mostly he was harmless, but on cold winter nights, the former sheriff and his son Sheriff Gage Justice would pull Earl in for vagrancy—mostly to be sure the man had a warm safe space to spend the night.

  Wes led the way out of the back room. “Got some hot coffee and breakfast in the office. Pete had sausage and gravy with fresh biscuits this morning over at the Peaches ’N Cream. If you want to join me.”

 
“Don’t mind if I do.” Earl smacked his lips as he pulled one of the blankets around his shoulders and shuffled out to the front of the sheriff’s office. “That Pete sure knows how to make biscuits. And his sausage gravy reminds me of my mama’s.”

  “Wasn’t much of a fan of sausage gravy until Gage ordered me to try Pete’s.” Wes set a Styrofoam box on the opposite side of his desk where he’d already pulled up a chair for Earl. Opening his own box, the aroma of spicy sausage and biscuits wafted into the air. “Just the smell makes me hungry.”

  Earl nodded, already digging into the food in front of him. As he ate his own meal, Wes watched the other man eat. Since he’d come to Westen, he’d shared many a morning meal with Earl and each time it was an interesting experience. The man never gobbled his food in like a man who’d gone days without a meal—and Wes had seen many a man eat like that in his time in the Army. No, Earl always took his time, savoring every bite, sometimes with his eyes closed.

  “Saw Pastor Miller yesterday,” Wes said casually between bites.

  “Was he gettin’ into trouble?” Earl said with a twinkle in his eyes and a grin.

  “Don’t think his wife or the ladies of the Baptist Women’s Circle would let him, even if he wanted to.” Wes laughed. “No, he mentioned that he needed someone to help him keep the sidewalks clear of ice and snow again this winter. Wanted me to mention it to you if I saw you. He said it would pay the same as in the past.”

  Pastor Miller had provided Earl with a room in the church basement during the last two winters and a salary, enough to have him get warm meals at the cafe all for helping with sidewalk clearing. The county and the congregation could do the work themselves, but Earl hated charity, so having him work at the church made sure he wasn’t found frozen dead in an alley somewhere and helped keep his dignity intact.