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Tough Justice: Countdown (Part 1 of 8)
by Carla Cassidy
Episode One
A year after FBI Agent Lara Grant put her past—in the form of a very personal manhunt—behind her, the Crisis Management Unit is called in to take lead on a shocking new assignment. A serial bomber is targeting some of the most powerful people in in the city, threatening to expose their deepest secrets.
And soon Lara will face a deadly foe—with an army of skeletons just waiting to fall out of her own closet...
Prologue
Dammit, he’d been so careful. And now this.
A trickle of sweat worked down the side of his face and he closed his eyes as fear tightened his lungs and squeezed his throat. He’d been in a simmering panic since he’d received the email.
He opened his eyes and reread the damned thing.
12:01a.m., from [email protected]:
I know what you did with all that money. I’ll keep your secret but it will cost the lives of innocent people. Or confess to the press and nobody gets hurt. The choice is yours. You have until noon tomorrow.
The lives of innocent people? What did that mean? His gut tightened as nausea overcame him.
Things like this weren’t supposed to happen to him. He’d done everything right in his life. He’d had high hopes. He had big ambitions. The New York Times was running a cover story on him next week that he hoped would launch him to a new level of success. Everything was in place and now this.
Somebody knew his secret.
He twisted his gold wedding band around and around his finger as he stared at the grandfather clock across the room. He had to make a decision fast. Time was running out.
Coming clean would destroy everything he’d worked for. Hell, it wouldn’t only destroy him, it would also destroy his wife.
How much could this anonymous person know? Did the emailer know about all the gifts, the secret hotel visits and the faux business expenses?
Just last weekend they had spent two days together at a luxury hotel upstate, ultimately paid for by taxpayer dollars.
Four minutes...he had four minutes left to make a decision. He should have contacted his brother when he’d received the email. But what could he have done to help? What could anyone do?
Three minutes. A rivulet of sweat rolled down the center of his back while his fingers poised over his computer keyboard. It was too late to call for a press conference. But it wasn’t too late for him to type something up on social media...confess to the affair and to the misuse of public funds.
If he didn’t do that innocent people would die. Jesus, what kind of a choice was this? What kind of a monster asked someone to make such a decision.
The back of his throat closed up again. He didn’t want to be responsible for anyone dying. He blew out several short breaths in an effort to calm himself.
Two minutes to go. Surely it was a hoax. It had to be some sort of an outrageous bluff. How could he take this seriously? More sweat dampened him as the acrid scent of his fear wafted in the air. His fingers trembled with indecision.
One minute...oh, God, what should he do? Was this real? Would something bad really happen?
Thirty seconds. His phone dinged with a text message. Quickly he grabbed it up and stared at the text.
Ticktock.
A sharp pain shot through his chest. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be...could it? The grandfather clock ticked off the seconds.
Five.
Four. His fingers hovered over his keyboard.
Three.
Two. Oh God. He hesitated. It was too late to type something now.
One.
As the clock began to chime, a ding indicated another text message.
With dread he looked at it.
Boom.
Don’t miss a single exciting installment of the new FBI thriller
TOUGH JUSTICE: COUNTDOWN
by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy, Tyler Anne Snell, Emmy Curtis and Janie Crouch.
On sale February 2017 wherever Harlequin ebooks are sold.
Keep reading for an excerpt from
LAST CHANCE HERO by Melinda Di Lorenzo
Copyright © 2017 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Last Chance Hero
by Melinda Di Lorenzo
Prologue
From his spot on the hotel balcony, Corey “the Nose” Waller watched as the guy in the ball cap smiled at the courier, who handed over a slim envelope. He’d had Ball Cap under close surveillance for a week now, and the man’s unflappable politeness was making the Nose itch. Tipping coffee servers. Holding the door open for old men. Chasing after some young mother when her baby lost his shoe in a puddle and the woman didn’t notice.
“Do-gooder,” the Nose muttered, pulling the binoculars away from his face for a disgusted second.
Over twelve months of solid tracking, and he could scarcely believe this was the man who’d fooled his employers for the past decade. Someone who had—just this morning—returned a damned hundred-dollar bill to a guy who walked away from an ATM without it. But the Nose had earned his nickname well; his bloodhound abilities were rarely wrong. Everything had led him here. All he needed now was proof.
He lifted the binoculars back up. The courier was laughing at something Ball Cap had said. He gave the other man a friendly slap on the shoulder. The Nose rolled his eyes. Two minutes in and they were best friends. Awful. A whole other minute of chatting went by before the courier finally turned to go. Ball Cap, though, continued to stand in the street, holding the envelope up to the light.
“C’mon,” the Nose urged. “Open it up where I can see you do it.”
He said it partly because it would be easier to report the proof that way. But mostly, he just plain wanted to ruin Ball Cap’s day. Inject a little misery into all that kindness.
The Nose waited patiently, counting up. He only made it as far as twenty-seven before he got his wish. The other man slipped his thumb to the seal and forced the envelope open. He reached in, pulled out the thin sheet inside, then lifted his eyes. And even though the Nose knew he was too far away to be seen, he could feel Ball Cap searching him out. He made himself ignore the feeling, and continued to watch.
The other man was clearly affected by what he’d seen. Trying not to panic, maybe. His eyes flicked up and down the street. Seeing nothing, he shifted from foot to foot, tapping the envelope and its contents on his knee.
The Nose smiled to himself. That’s right. Twitch, you big suck. Go back inside and hide some more. Make your getaway plan.
Satisfied that his search had come to an end, he started to lower the binoculars. Then stopped. Ball Cap had started to move, but he didn’t turn to go back into his apartment. Instead, he took off down the street at a dead run.
“Crap.”
The Nose dug
into his pocket in search of his phone. He hit speed dial one. A deep, already angry voice answered on the second ring.
“What?”
The Nose didn’t bother to hide his concern. “I think we’re gonna have a problem. He’s on the run.”
“Oh, hell.”
“Yeah. You want me to go after him?”
There was a pause. “No. He knows we’ve got him now. He’ll stay hidden and he’s too good at it.”
“What, then?”
Another pause. “Just a sec.”
The Nose tapped his thigh impatiently as the phone became muffled. What the hell could be more important than this? A few moments later, he got the answer.
A new voice—more refined and calmer than the first—came on the line. “Mr. Waller?”
Puzzled to hear his own name, he answered carefully. “Yeah?”
“Corey ‘the Nose’ Waller?”
“Yeah.” He was impatient now. “Who’s this?”
“The man calling the shots.”
The Nose swallowed, suddenly very nervous. “Uh...”
“You’ve done a fine job finding the target.”
“Thank you.”
“Now I need you to do something else for us. For me.”
The Nose cleared his throat. “Okay.”
“Go after the girl.”
“Me? I’m not much of a—”
“You are now. How far away are you?”
“Few hours by car.”
“Good. You should have more than enough time.”
The Nose tried again to protest. “I really don’t—”
“You’re fast and efficient and she won’t be expecting you. Make it scary. I want her terrified.”
“Not...dead?”
A cool laugh came from the other end. “No. I want him. I can use him. And if we have her, he’ll come straight to us.”
Copyright © 2017 by Melinda A. Di Lorenzo
ISBN-13: 9781488016332
Operation Alpha
Copyright © 2017 by Janice Davis Smith
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