BOUNTY
Book IV
WALK THE RIGHT ROAD SERIES
By
Lorhainne Eckhart
Booklist
Finding Love ~ THE OUTSIDER SERIES in order:
The Forgotten Child
A Baby And A Wedding, (The Forgotten Child to Fallen Hero bridge short story)
Fallen Hero
The Search, (Fallen Hero to The Awakening bridge short story)
The Awakening
Secrets
Runaway
The Unexpected Storm
*Coming Soon – The Wedding
Military Romantic Suspense
Saved
Walk the Right Road Series
The Choice
Lost and Found
Merkaba
Bounty
Young Adult Suspense
The Gift
A Father’s Love
Box Sets
Finding Love ~ THE OUTSIDER SERIES
Walk the Right Road Series – Danger ~ Deception ~ Devotion: A Box Set
From the Heart
Praise for Walk the Right Road Series….
“LOST AND FOUND is one of the best romantic suspense books I have read this year!
There was not a human emotion I did not go through while reading this book. I will forewarn you, you will need a box of tissues and a punching bag while reading this dynamic tale.”
Romance Junkies
Lost and Found hit me right in the gut from the very beginning!
JRA
I can't say when I have enjoyed reading a book more. The Choice is about choosing the truth over lies and good over evil. Lorhainne Eckhart weaves a story that makes it impossible to quit turning the page. She has true insight into the need to be loved and how evil can manipulate this need and draw innocent people into the pain and misery that greed and manipulation produce.
Amazon Reviewer Kyblondern
Just finished this one and was really a nail bitter. I was on edge the whole book and couldn't put it down for the last 50pgs.
Janice, Goodreads Reviewer
Main Menu
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Afterword
Other Works by Lorhainne Eckhart
About the Author
Contact Information
Copyright Information
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
She slid out from behind the wheel and checked her holster, flicking her finger over her Glock and the smooth shiny badge she had clipped to the waistband of her jeans. She fisted her hands once, twice, yanked on the edge of her jean jacket, and stepped forward, putting all her attention into that one step, then another, on the pavement glistening under the half moon. Her breath misted in the damp night air, picking up the scent she had always associated with a fresh kill. She shivered as goose bumps pricked her skin, not from the cold, and she fought the instinct to cross her arms.
Flashing red lights cast an eerie shadow over the thick trees that lined both sides of the dark highway, headlights from a dozen vehicles spotlighting the scene. It was unnerving, and every sound of the night—the shouting, the whisper of the wind through the treetops, voices over the police radio, footsteps, and car doors opening and closing—became more defined, drawing her attention to each minute detail. Diane nodded to a uniformed deputy, who was holding a bright red flare and turning away the few cars that travelled the highway this late at night back toward Port Townsend. The state police and deputies lingered around the scene.
“Diane.” Baby-faced Green, now a lieutenant for the Sequim detachment, strutted over to Diane, holding his hand out as if to stop her. He wore a ratty tweed jacket and faded blue jeans. The skin on his bald head shone like a smoothly polished billiard ball from the backdrop of the headlights. “Hey, Stan.” Green waved to another uniformed officer Diane didn’t recognize and pasted on one of his phony good ol’ boy smiles.
She hated the prick, so she decided to ignore him and tried to step around him, but he matched her strides step for step as if trying to cut her off. On any other night, she would have cut him down with one of her hard, unforgiving glares and then finished him off with a sharp remark, telling him to get lost, except not tonight. The prick could say or do anything, and even though Diane itched to slam her fist in his face, it would be unlike her and would stand out as a red flag to everyone. For the life of her, she still couldn’t figure out how Green had ended up as a lieutenant, but he could pull rank and she’d likely find herself written up. She reminded herself again, Keep your cool. Calm down.
Her entire focus was riveted on the scene in front of her as she strode straight toward the five crime scene technicians hunched down over a young woman who lay on her back across the yellow line in the center of the highway. It would have been a bone-chilling sight to anyone, but Diane’s attention wasn’t drawn by the fact that the woman was lying spread-eagle across the center line, her legs and arms set perfectly straight, nor by the fact that the young woman’s once beautiful face was marked with fresh bruising, nor by the black mark around her neck from where she’d been strangled as her sightless eyes stared heavenward. Even her long plain dress, a tired blue, was neatly pulled to her ankles, smoothed as if the woman had simply lain down on the road and straightened it. Her long dark hair hung in one thick braid across her breast. She wore only one tennis shoe on her left foot and a thick white sock on her right.
It was none of that which filled every part of Diane with a terror so icy she wanted to shut her eyes and get in her car, driving and driving until she was a dozen counties away. She couldn’t run, not again and not from this, as she stared at the one thing that could unleash the deep-seated fear she’d safely tucked away. She broke out in a cold sweat. A note was pinned to that serviceable dress, written in uniform black letters: Keep sweet.
Chapter 2
Diane could hear the rumble of voices next to her as she stared at the girl. In that moment, nothing could break through her thick curtain of surreality. All her senses would register was that there was a buzz of radios, noise, voices talking, the occasional shout. She couldn’t say one word, because she had somehow been shoved into what seemed like a vortex swirling around her. It was probably her mind—her head was protecting her from something that she knew, deep down, had to be really bad. She was barely aware of the technicians as they marked and taped the scene off. Someone said something to her, but it was Green tapping her on the shoulder that had her blinking her damp eyes. She turned and barked, “Why was I called?”
She kept her back on the girl and stared off at the deputies lounging against a car, watching her with an expression she didn’t like. She cursed under her breath then set her hands on her hip, but it felt awkward. She reached into her pocket for a piece of gum. At this point, she needed to do something—anything—to focus and regain her hard-won confidence, which had slipped from her since the call about this girl’s death. Diane knew she had to get her head back in the game and shove all her worries back inside that deep dark closet, because she refused to go down that road again, and she sure as hell had no plans to accept what was being shoved on her plate now.
No, she wasn’t into that crap, not Diane Larsen, the girl cop who had clawed her way through the raunchy, chauvinistic games and bullshit that had been pulled on her by all the men she’d had to work with. It was an attitude that she could have sworn had existed since the Stone Age. Even though everyone refused to acknowledge that good ol’ boys’ network, it was still around. Her bosses had said one thing and done the other, at least with her, anyway, though she suspected they had done the same with other women. She had just learned to keep her mouth shut and turn away from the stuff that made
her so frickin’ mad she wanted to kick those assholes in the balls.
What they didn’t and wouldn’t ever know was that she’d come from one of the best training grounds for teaching girls they didn’t possess minds of their own. She had been taught to never ever speak of what she knew, that everything family stayed in the family. For Diane, ignoring all the pricks she worked with who made her job hell came easy, and that was what she’d done for the past ten years even though her self-confidence was purely an act. Right now, she needed to pull off one of the greatest performances of her life.
It was Green who frowned before crossing his arms and then uncrossing them, annoyed. He waved his hand at the body behind him. “She’s a woman, and since Craig is on holidays and Daniels has a family, well, we all know you don’t have much to do at night. Didn’t seem right to drag a man from his warm bed and his family.”
“You’re an asshole,” Diane said before she had thought about it. After all, she knew better than to crawl in the gutter and let him get to her, but she was rattled and wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. “This isn’t even my jurisdiction, and this sure as hell doesn’t look like a drug bust gone bad, so explain to me again why I’m here. In case you didn’t get the memo, I’m back with the OPNET team, so unless this is somehow drug related and she’s got a stash with her, I’m out of here.”
“Diane!” Casey, a short redheaded crime scene technician, waved Diane over to where she was crouched beside the body, wearing one of those unflattering yellow jumpsuits. “I want to show you something.” She flicked her gloved hand in the air, gesturing to the dead girl.
Diane jammed her teeth together and gave Casey all her focus. She was a few years older than Diane, single and always full of life, especially after a few rounds at the cop bar, Emile’s, with whatever was on tap. It never failed that after two drinks, that ultraconservative all-business attitude melted away, bringing out the happy, cheerful clown underneath. Even all those tough-ass pricks she worked with, who had more muscle than brains, enjoyed having her around.
“You see the bruising?” Casey pointed her latex-gloved finger at the victim’s neck, the smooth, youthful skin that hadn’t even had time to age.
“Casey, get to the point. Any wet-behind-the-ears rookie could see the girl was strangled.”
Casey never flinched or looked away as she stood up. The woman acted as if nothing bothered her. She ripped off her gloves as she walked over to Diane and stuffed them in her jacket pocket. She looked everywhere except at Diane as she stepped closer. Green, of course, was still standing right beside her, invading her space, taking everything in as if he truly believed he called all the shots.
Casey yanked out a pack of gum and popped a piece in her mouth, looking at Diane as if she needed time to gather her thoughts. “The problem is that the girl never fought back. Normally, we’d find trauma around the fingers, broken fingernails, skin and blood, but nothing is there. Gotta tell you this is the first time I’ve seen someone who didn’t fight back, so it leads me to wonder a few things, like whether she was drugged. As it looks now, it’s as if she just lay there and willingly let someone strangle her, no sign of a struggle. Then there’s that dress she’s got on, the long braided hair, no makeup, very old fashioned. This girl ain’t from around here. She’s just a kid, I’d say fourteen or fifteen, maybe, if that. You may want to ask yourself, what kind of kid goes around dressed in a plain sack-like dress? It seems like something ordained by one of those polygamist groups, but last I checked, there weren’t any around here.”
Diane chewed her gum and could feel both Green and Casey watching her with an interest she didn’t quite like. They had to know something was off with Diane, as she was rattled so far off the charts that everyone’s radar had to be beeping right about now. She was silently giving herself the biggest ass-kicking as she scrambled to get her head back in the game, struggling against her desire to just walk away and climb in her truck, as she wanted to, and drive. But she couldn’t do that. Her common sense was finally burning through the fear that had fallen over her ever since she got the call. If she ran away, they’d know something was wrong, and it wouldn’t take long for someone to start asking questions. There was no way she could allow that to happen. Pull it together. “You almost done here, Casey?” she asked.
Casey and Green exchanged a glance.
“Yeah, we’re about done. I’ll have more details once we head back to the morgue. So who do I send the report to?” Casey asked, darting a glance between Green and Diane.
“Me, for now.” Diane allowed herself to look at the girl as she was zipped into a black body bag and lifted onto a stretcher. “I’ll talk to you after you do the autopsy.” Diane started to walk away before she stopped and faced Green. “Don’t you ever call me onto a case again because you think I’ve got nothing better to do. I’ll start this investigation, but you find someone else from homicide to take it over.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer, and she ignored him when he called after her. She jumped in her SUV, slammed the door, and gripped the wheel so hard she could feel the crankshaft bending as she drove back toward Sequim. Only when she’d driven around the bend and the darkened highway was the only thing visible in the rear-view mirror did she relax her guard. It was then that an uncontrollable shaking took over her hands, her feet, every part of her, dissolving the iron mask she’d worn for so long.
Chapter 3
“Since when do you ever nap?”
Diane jumped to her feet as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her hand automatically slapped to her side, reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. She stumbled, knocking over her coffee mug. It shattered on the back deck, dark liquid pooling everywhere.
Her legs were trembling as she stared at Sam, who watched her with bright blue eyes. He was her former partner in the DEA, with a body and face that still had women falling at his feet. Even his wavy brown hair, a little on the long side, tied back, only added something to his southern gentleman charm, and that was without him having spoken one whisper of his slow, rich drawl, which always had the ladies drooling. He was frowning at her, so she bent down and picked up the pieces of broken mug, shifting her attention to something other than what a basket case she was.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. You okay?” There was concern in his voice, but he didn’t bend down to help her. He knew better. She was also pretty sure he didn’t see her as a woman, and sometimes that bothered her, not that she’d ever tell him.
“Yeah, just tired. Sorry, you startled me is all.” Diane dumped the broken mug into the trashcan at the back door. She fisted her shaking hands and squeezed the stiff muscles running up the back of her neck. “Want some coffee?”
“No, I’d like to know what’s got you so worked up.”
Diane strode back to one of the Adirondack chairs she’d been asleep in on the back porch and eased her size-ten frame back down. She gazed out into the forest behind her house. These five acres outside Gardiner were her home, her land, all hers. That morning, when she’d returned home, she reminded herself of who she was and everything she had. She had earned this, paid for it with her own money, with no help from anyone. No one could take this from her. No one could tell her what to do, how to think, and how her life was supposed to be just because she was a woman.
She could feel Sam watching her as he sat in the other lounger. Diane swallowed hard but kept staring into the forest, waiting for a sudden spurt of courage so she could speak.
“You know what Marcie said right after you called at the break of dawn?” Sam asked.
This time, Diane glanced at him before grunting.
He continued: “She said, ‘Something’s wrong. Get on the morning ferry and go see her.’ So here I am, and you know what? I’m sitting on the ferry, wondering why my old partner is calling just to say hi before the sun’s up. You don’t call anyone to say hi. You don’t make friendly calls. Wel
l, you’re about the worst liar there is, Diane.”
Diane winced. “I don’t know why I called, Sam. I just…” She raised her hand and flicked it in the air, hoping—no, praying—that the sky would open up and her common sense would land on her. Frankly, she was screwing up big time with everyone. Why not just put one of those flashing neon lights over herself and shine it down with an arrow that said, “She’s hiding something”?
“I heard you had a murder last night. Odd one, though, young girl left in the middle of the highway, dressed in some pioneer getup. Green called me, too, just as I was going out the door, said you were acting all weird at the crime scene and that even Casey was wondering what was up with you, like you were PMSing or something.”
Diane slapped both palms on the armrest. “Oh, for the love of God. That damn prick Green thinks every woman who dares to have an opinion or refuses to put up with his bullshit is PMSing. That asshole called me in to investigate even though, by the way, it wasn’t even my jurisdiction, because he’s gotta make sure all you men stay home with your families, as if I’ve got nothing better to do. He knows damn well I’m back with OPNET. I fought to get that back, Sam. I’m not a homicide detective. And Casey…” She stopped, pressing her teeth into her tongue, because going that down that road, dissecting Casey’s character, was something she couldn’t do. She liked Casey even though it pissed her off what a sharp little shit she could be. That quality was great for solving crimes but not so great for scrutinizing Diane’s personal life.
“Since when are you letting Green get to you? You’ve always known he’s an ass-kisser, and I still don’t know why you’re back with the new trafficking team. I thought you were done with that after the leak we had, after everything fell apart around us, when Lance Silver planted those drugs in my locker. We damn near killed ourselves trying to bring Lance Silver and Dan McKenzie down, and look at what happened to Maggie, to Richard and Marcie. We’re all lucky we managed to get out with our skins and keep our asses out of jail, so why don’t you tell me what’s really going on, why this girl’s murder has got you looking like a deer who’s just figured out she’s pinned in the scope of someone’s rifle, about to be the main course for dinner?”
Bounty (Walk the Right Road) Page 1