The Choice, A Powerful & Engrossing Romantic Suspense Series (Walk the Right Road Series, Book 1)

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  Diane’s face turned beet red. She cringed, covering her face with her hands and moaned.

  “On the way back over to the mainland in their boat, the officers decided they didn’t need to take all the marijuana back with them, it was way too much. So once again, in their brilliance, they dumped some of it overboard. Who would have known a southeaster would come up and blow the packaged marijuana back to Las Seta? The school kids sure had a heyday picking it all up from along the shoreline.”

  Diane peered through open fingers of both hands, which still covered her face.

  “So Diane, did the idiot cop who dumped it over ever confess?”

  She cleared her throat. “No.”

  “Would you like me to finish the story of Lance, and how that cowboy cop taunted him?”

  Diane dropped her hands and stiffened her back. “Marcie, you obviously know how ineffective it was handled. But did you know that $3.4 million in marijuana alone, passed through Lance’s hands last year? He had twenty people growing and cultivating for him, indoors and out.”

  Marcie slapped her hands on the table. “Let’s put all the facts from both sides on the table. You want to stop the grow shows? You need to see it from the people’s perspective too.

  Diane crossed her arms.

  “Your cowboy knew what Lance was up to, and he refused to wait for a search warrant. He followed Lance home to his other house near Adelma Beach. You know the west coast monstrosity of an oceanfront property where Lance used to keep his office? Cowboy waited until Lance turned out the lights. He broke in, jumped him in bed, putting a knee in his back and cuffed him, even roughed him up a bit.”

  “Okay Marcie, you’re well informed. Lance got off, as you know, and Lieutenant Cowboy was shipped off to Nebraska by the Feds. What we do know is Lance is into more than just marijuana. Three years ago, the DEA tracked a boat carrying cocaine from South America, all the way up to the westside of Las Seta, where Lance Silver’s estate is. After that, a new international team was assembled with the DEA. A few years ago Sam joined our team.”

  Marcie’d heard rumors. Lance was under investigation again; but she didn’t know any details.

  “Right before Sam left, we obtained a search warrant and arrived at Silver’s estate with full backup. A second team arrived at his Gardiner compound where we know there’s an underground truck trailer storing marijuana. The SWAT guys, DEA, Interpol, Washington State Patrol and even the Coast Guard were involved. Both places were clean, except for a scribbled note with Sam’s name on it found in Lance Silver’s desk drawer. At the same time, a tip was phoned in to the Sequim Sheriff’s Department, to check Sam’s locker at the gun club and. there we’d find a key to Lance Silvers estate along with marijuana.”

  “Did you?” She leaned closer.

  Diane glanced toward the door as she licked her lips. She met Marcie’s gaze straight on. “The deputies from the Sequim detachment checked when we were still on the island. And yes, they did. Right where they were told it would be, along with five pounds of marijuana.”

  Marcie clasped her hands on the table in front of her. Worried, she too watched the door. “Sam told me Lance screwed him. Drugs were planted in his locker, and then he left. Went back to New Orleans where I met him.”

  “Marcie, that’s not all that happened. We were ordered back by our boss, Dexter. A chopper flew Sam and me straight to the gun club, where Dexter waited. The sheriff brought in IPB to investigate Sam and they were interviewing the gun club manager, a short, balding little turd, when we walked in. Apparently, he phoned the tip in. But wouldn’t say how he knew. Sam lost his temper and hit the guy. We knew he lied, and Sam would have beaten this jerk until he confessed if Dexter and I hadn’t pulled him off. There was an internal review, charges of assault were pending, but Dexter made them go away. We knew Lance Silver had the wily prick in his pocket. Dexter leaned on the guy. Told him he’d personally go through every part of his life until he found something to put him away, whether it was tax fraud, or too many parking tickets. It was enough. This low life recanted everything and refused to press assault charges. Said he now had reason to believe the drugs may have been planted.”

  “I knew Sam wasn’t sleeping, so that confession packaged up with all the stress, was the final straw. He threw his badge on Dexter’s desk, furious. Yelling, these drug dealers were so far above the law, whatever justice the law preached, they’d find a way to get off. He wouldn’t listen to reason. I was afraid he’d do something stupid, so when I found out about you, and how you landed in his path—well…” Diane splayed both hands in the air. “Let’s just say now that I’ve met you, I do believe you landed there for a reason. And you may have saved him from doing something really dumb. Please don’t screw it up.”

  Marcie pushed away from the table, telling Diane she needed to cleanup. Diane’s soft brown eyes regarded her with sympathy, as if she understood Marcie’s ache for Sam. She stuffed her notebook in her coat pocket and went in search of Sam and Jesse.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Marcie tilted her head back under the steamy hot spray, doing her best to wash away all her worry for Sam. Now she understood better something Mama Reine said. Sam had been set up, just like Jerome. There was a strong spiritual connection. This was warfare on the divine level. With a dark entity, who kept coming back—in a different body—a different life. She knew if she tried to analyze it too hard, she wouldn’t grasp the illusion.

  Marcie turned off the water, pulled back the pink curtain, dried off and wrapped a thick towel around her. She pulled open the door and had no time to think when a familiar slender hand clamped firmly over her mouth. She shrieked, but the sound didn’t carry.

  “Sorry to scare you Marcie, but keep your voice down. You’ll scare the birds. Now what are you doing with the cops, and why didn’t you call me? I was worried about you.” Dan held her tight, the way a man does a simple possession.

  She pushed his hand away and barely caught hold of the towel when it slipped down and exposed her breast. She grabbed the striped towel with both hands and held tight, as she pushed past him into her bedroom. She grabbed her robe off a hook behind the door. Keeping her back to Dan she dropped the towel and pulled it on.

  “What are you doing spying on me?”

  An easy smile lit up his alluring face. It always amazed her how his looks alone brought a hitch to her breath. His eyes, she always loved his eyes. But now, there was something different about his sparkling hazel gaze, the color had changed, but how? Then his natural charm flowed over her with a devastating force. Marcie’s knees weakened, completely unprepared with his ability to bypass her defenses.

  She kept forgetting to surround herself with the circle of white light—to call in her angels to protect her, to clearly see the gold cord connecting her to the universe. He was already inside her, manipulating her feelings, confusing her. Now she knew how he did it. He touched her, and in that second, he attached one of his dark cords to her.

  “I was worried about you when I didn’t hear from you. I came out here to look for you.”

  Then she remembered her earlier, wary, invasive feeling. “How long have you been here? And were you in my house earlier?”

  His wicked smile was followed by a cold mischievous laugh. His face hardened when he crossed his arms in front of him. A wall he controlled around himself, spoke of years of conditioning. Then she felt it, a subtle slip of energy from the top of her head like a breeze in the wind. Her heartbeat thudded. She had to protect herself to resist him. He was already confusing her. Good Lord, he was powerful. She sucked in a deep breath, and halted his invasion by putting up her own circle. She called upon St. Michael in her head to cut his cords. It was hard because Dan was good at what he did and very dangerous. Why hadn’t she seen this before?

  “You still have crops to bring in Marcie, and my buyers waiting.” His voice was magnetic. She loved listening to him talk.

  So much existed between them, they didn’t need to
speak. He seemed to be aware of what she thought, what she’d done. Whatever his gift, he had a power she’d not seen before. He must have always known he had it, like a shaman, but not a good one. He could attach to her when her guard was down. He read her aura, her thoughts. To an unsuspecting person, he easily brought chaos, lies and disorder, and he walked in shadows. All this knowledge came to her now.

  “Ah, ah, ah, whatever you’re planning, I’d think again about betraying me.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I can tell you one thing for sure Dan; I’m done with you and your crop. If you want it, get it yourself.” She tried to hurry past him, but his arm snaked around her waist. The hold wasn’t brutal or hard, but it pinned her against his familiar body, a body she craved to once again entwine with hers. She breathed him in. He had no body odor, just a surprising earthy fragrance. To her physical self, it was a drug she craved, and that alone crept inside and whispered throughout her. He appeared dominant, in control when he tried stealing her vibrant life force. But Marcie knew he’d fold if you leaned on him. Dan was a devious man who somehow always landed on his feet, skirting trouble by pinning it on others, mostly women, while he slithered away.

  Dan cocked his head at an angle to look closer into her. He slipped in again and with it came nausea churning right in her center. She swallowed. Psychically, he was way too powerful for her. As Sally, her teacher would say, she was still a babe in the woods. And she’d no idea the power she was up against.

  “I don’t think so, Marcie. You see, this is how it’s going to be. You’re going to finish what you started.”

  “Get your hands off me and listen to me. I’m done. You can’t bully me anymore. I’m not that stupid. Now get out of my house.” She wrenched his arm away and pushed past him. Just touching him, sizzled a lustful desire in her heart. She turned the corner, then another one, through the front room, the kitchen, breaking more contact with each wall between them. She needed to walk out of here, to walk it off around her house—clear it out. Where were Sam and Diane? She willed them to return.

  “That key and pot found in your new lovers locker at the gun club, is just the beginning. The next time, he won’t be able to talk himself out of it or convince that cowardly manager to change his story. The evidence against him will be indisputable. And the crime will lock him away for life. Don’t mess with me, Marcie.” That stopped her cold.

  “How did you know?” She whirled around so fast. She nearly fell over, stumbling a couple steps, as she bumped the table.

  Clarity came with a warning. He wielded magic with his emotions, focused for his personal gain. She understood now what he did. He gathered inspiration and power from the forces of nature and natural world around him, relying solely on his instincts. The strength of his belief in what he did was appalling, in how he manifested his cause, of greed, no matter the consequences to those around him. Earth based spirituality focused on one principal. Harm none. He was going against nature. What she didn’t understand is why no karma touched him?

  His smile lit up his entire face. He looked different; it was his eyes again, they changed in color from golden brown to whisky flecked and amphibian-like. She knew all too well, eyes were a window to the soul. And everything attached to it. As gifted the lineage Marcie came from, wariness and fear warned her that he channeled his wants, his desires and his magic in a way beyond anything she was familiar with—beyond her training with Sally. Her back was to the wall. She realized she had no choice.

  “Good girl. Oh, and just one more thing, Maggie’s going to help you.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Barefoot in the dirt, Marcie circled her quaint log cottage counterclockwise, again and again. How did someone reverse what he manifested, this ugly destruction he put in play? She pleaded for help, and each time her head sucked her back to him. She couldn’t read him, no matter how she tried. He was superior in his skill. What kind of abomination of nature was he? Her skin crawled just thinking about the wanting need to be with him, it still slithered inside her. The pure addiction she now knew wasn’t entirely her own doing. He’d created that. He knew her weakness. Now she fought with every nuance she could muster, calling all the good forces beyond her in love, hope and faith to stop him. And whatever else was at play. Let me go!

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Sam, Jesse and Diane circled around her, cautiously. Their concern for her exploded with horror across their face, as if she’d suddenly lost her mind.

  “Look at you, you’re a mess. Your legs are all scratched. They’re bleeding.” Sam hustled through the salal, huckleberry and thorny blackberry bushes surrounding Marcie and easily scooped her up. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, while he hurried into the cottage. She breathed him in, his own piney scent bringing her back to him.

  “Marcie, ease up on the grip, you’re choking me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears burned her eyes, and she stifled a sob.

  Sam used his foot to pull out a kitchen chair and eased her into it. She swiped at her eyes. Dirt smeared her pink housecoat, her feet and her wet hair was a tangled mess.

  “Marcie, what the hell were you doing? What’s wrong with you?” Sam hurried back with a washcloth and towel he’d grabbed from the bathroom. Jesse rifled under the kitchen sink for a bucket and pumped in some fresh water. Sam kneeled in front of her, dipping the rag in the bucket and bathed her cuts.

  “I…” Her breath seeped out, but the words wouldn’t come. She tried again. “I was looking for you.” She couldn’t look at him.

  “Ouch.” Pain cut like sharp teeth when Sam wiped away blood oozing from several jagged scratches.

  “Marcie, I need to put some antiseptic on these cuts or they’ll get infected.”

  “No antiseptic. Over by the sink, there’s a bottle of distilled lavender. Bring it here, I’ll spray it on, it’ll work better and won’t hurt as much.” Diane was gone, but soon reappeared with thick cotton socks, from Marcie’s drawer.

  She knew Sam waited for her to look up. He had a way of maintaining eye contact that went beyond a casual glimpse. But then he’d know, and she couldn’t take that chance. Because, he’d stop her and this was the only way to protect him.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “We need to get going and make the crossing before dark.” She glanced up at Diane, and for a tiny moment before she turned away, Marcie was positive Diane knew. Of course, they suspected something had happened, look at her. She was a mess. She’d never been any good at hiding things.

  “Marcie you need to get dressed. Brush your hair.” Diane instructed her in a motherly way.

  She said nothing. She got up out of the chair and went to her bedroom. After she dressed and brushed her snarled hair, she crammed clothes into a black canvas bag, willing the constant trembling in her hands to stop. Her damp, now brushed, hair dangled down her back. Dressed in blue jeans and a dark hoodie, she was ready. She carried the large tote out with her.

  Jesse leaned against the kitchen sink studying her with a cold, hard eye when she walked in the room.

  “Where are Sam and Diane?” She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to be alone with Jesse. She liked him. He’d pull her secrets out.

  “You’re pale, shaking and scared shitless of something. I sent Sam and Diane out. They took a walk up to the main road. Getting a feel for the area.” He shrugged his shoulders. “What gives, Marcie? You ain’t the same calm collected little girl who came back here with us this morning.”

  She dropped her bag at her feet and wiped away the lone tear. “Jesse, have you ever had to do something you didn’t want to do. But knew it was the only way to protect someone you love?”

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  No matter how much she wanted to confide in him, she couldn’t. She closed her eyes and summoned every ounce of strength to pull out of the miserable pit she’d sunk. “No, it’s fine; we better go. The sun will be
setting soon.” She looked up at him, but she couldn’t interpret what clouded his eyes, righteous fury—empathy—support—condemnation?

  He walked straight at her. His narrowed eyes peeled back each one of her hidden layers and seemed to dig out her secrets. He picked up her bag, walked past her out the door. “Come on then, little girl, it’s getting dark, and the big bad wolf’s coming out soon.”

  Her whole body trembled. She fisted her hands so hard her nails dug into the fatty flesh of her palms, desperate to find a way out of this living nightmare. And she did the only thing she could, followed Jesse, breathed and climbed back in the truck.

  * * * *

  When they arrived back at Diane’s, Marcie told Sam, Diane and Jesse she was tired. But what she really needed was space and time to think. She hefted her bag in her cozy room and perched on the edge of the soft bed. She’d taken no time to appreciate this welcoming room’s cozy décor. Creamy wainscoting trimmed warm peach walls. A six-drawer honey colored dresser opposite the bed, mounted with a large mirror—a mirror that wouldn’t hide secrets or dark circles under her puffy eyes. She could hear Sam, Diane and Jesse through the closed door, involved in some deep discussion.

  The bedside digital clock read 8:10 p.m. She’d a lot of time to think, so she looked around for a distraction.

  Jerome’s letters beckoned from the oak nightstand beside the bed. Consumed by all this worry, she didn’t know if these letters would be enough to get her through the next few hours. She groaned and picked up the packet. A wider envelope dropped from the stack into her lap. Inside was a thin paper journal, with a lovely handwritten inscription, Isabel Standford Morison.