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Lyrical Press, Inc.
www.lyricalpress.com
Copyright ©2009 by Linda Lattimer
First published in 2009, 2009
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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CONTENTS
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Running On Fear
Lyrical Press, Incorporated
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
About Linda Lattimer
Back Cover Copy
Will the search for her sister’s killer lead to Melanie’s happy-ever-after?
Melanie Bishop warned her sister Allison not to marry Riley. Now left with her niece and nephew to care for, Melanie learns that Allison never made it to the honeymoon.
FBI Agent Duncan McGregor is undercover working Allison’s case, and Melanie will do anything to nail her sister’s killer—including marrying Duncan to help the investigation.
As they work together to find Riley and build a case against him, a deadly threat from Duncan’s past threatens to destroy their newfound happiness. Can Duncan keep Melanie and the kids safe while bringing a killer to justice?
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Did this man work out or what? It was muscle city right in front of her eyes. And he had a deep tan that would make any woman swoon. Strong arms that … oh, yes, she remembered how those arms had felt when he’d wrapped them about her and carried her over the threshold. Stop it Melanie. What has gotten into you?
“The article any good?” Duncan asked as he pulled off his boots then started to unfasten his jeans.
Was he going to undress right in front of her? And did he wear underwear? Oh my! He walked toward the bed with jeans half undone, fanning a hand in front of her as he handed her a tissue from the box.
Melanie thawed instantly. “What?”
“I asked you if the article was any good.”
“Oh, sorry. I hadn’t started it. Why the tissue?”
“You’re drooling.”
“I’m what?” Melanie pressed her lips together. “I was not.”
“Was too.”
She snatched the tissue then closed the magazine as she slid under the covers. “Would you hurry? I want to go to bed.”
“Believe me, honey. I’m trying.”
[Back to Table of Contents]
Running On Fear
By Linda Lattimer
[Back to Table of Contents]
Lyrical Press, Incorporated
Running On Fear
Copyright © 2009, Lindfa Lattimer
Edited by Colleen Simpson
Book design by Emma Wayne Porter and Renee Rocco
Cover Art by Renee Rocco
Lyrical Press, Incorporated
17 Ludlow Street
Staten Island, New York 10312
www.lyricalpress.com eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated
First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: MONTH, YEAR
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Dedication
To Tommy, TR, Richard and Patrick, who are always on call
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Frank and Renee Rocco, and Lyrical Press, for making this story possible, and to a great editor, Colleen Simpson. Thanks for being there for me.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 1
Melanie parked the SUV then turned off the engine. The school bus would be arriving shortly, and two excited kids would be glad to be out after another day at school. She readjusted her hair, securing the ponytail. Since her hair had grown past her shoulders, she pulled it back a lot. Once she’d considered cutting it, but since her teen years, had kept it long. Besides, cutting it would mean no more braids, and she did enjoy occasionally braiding it for work. Then again, perhaps a different hairstyle would allow her to catch a man. She’d soon be thirty, and her nights were still spent with ice cream or the TV.
“Single, thirty, single.” She pulled the visor down for a quick moment and glared at the woman staring back at her. “You really could use a man in your life, Melanie.”
Drumming her fingers along the steering wheel, Melanie decided to open the window. The bus was taking longer than usual today. She leaned her head out the window until she glimpsed it coming down the hill. It was moving at a slow crawl as the traffic in front of it stalled. Then she saw the state trooper.
Great, they’d chosen today of all days to set up a checkpoint. Couldn’t it have waited until the children were all safely home? The warm June weather was already getting to her, and Melanie could imagine the children getting antsy with the delay. With just one more day of school, the state patrol decides to have a search. Might as well sit back and relax. It was going to be awhile.
After a few minutes had passed, Melanie decided to get out and stretch her legs. Just as she reached for the door handle, she noticed four men slowly advancing toward her vehicle.
One lanky, black man dressed in a nice pair of black slacks and a white shirt was walking toward the right side of the vehicle. Another man with a slightly pudgy stomach, wearing jeans and a pullover shirt was nearing the front. As she glanced in her rearview mirror, she spotted another man approaching from the rear, while a fourth was headed straight for her door.
It was too late to panic now or even try to close her window. Something was going on and she was right in the middle of it. She’d have to wait and see what they wanted. A quick glance at the bus told her it had only three cars waiting in front of it.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
Melanie’s heart stopped. A rich husky drawl accompanied those three little words. Like honey dripping off a honeycomb it was so thick and husky.
The voice’s owner pulled a cord from around his neck and allowed a badge to hang over the front of his blue shirt. A cop? The others must be too. Their badges were most likely concealed beneath their shirts. But where wer
e their guns? Did they have any?
Of course they do, Melanie. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not there. It would only take one swift hand movement for those guns to be in full view and a threatening automatic would be staring her point blank in the face.
Great, undercover agents. Just stay calm.
“Is there a problem?”
Duncan flashed a smile then raised the dark glasses from his eyes. Melanie felt as though he was taking a closer look at her green eyes. She’d been told before that their light green shade reminded people of cats’ eyes. She noticed how his fingers twitched. Was he imagining how it would feel to run his fingers through her blond hair? He couldn’t be! Get a grip, Melanie. He probably doesn’t even like women in ponytails and jeans! A quick look into his eyes made her wonder if she could be wrong, but he didn’t seem to notice. He’d leaned a little closer to the window and was giving the inside of her car a thoughtful stare.
“Could you tell us why you’re sitting here? Are you meeting someone?”
There was that husky voice again. This time it was downright sexy. Melanie could feel her toes practically curl in her tennis shoes. And those clear blue eyes, sensual, bedroom eyes. Wow, where had he been all her life? Working with cops, Melanie. All the good ones are cops and married, and out protecting the world.
“I could.” She smiled. “Actually, I’m meeting someone.”
“I see.” Those two little words sounded deeply skeptical.
“Honest. Two someones to be exact. If you turn your head you’ll see a school bus edging down the hill. From the looks of things, the state trooper is talking to the driver now. I know the driver. His name’s Paul. I told the children I’d pick them up here, near the store today. They don’t like bouncing all over the place while the bus drops off the other children. They asked me to pick them up at our usual pickup spot.”
At the mention of children, he looked disappointed, but why would something like her having children bother him? Ignoring her thoughts, Melanie repeated her question.
“Now, I will ask again. Is there a problem?”
“We’re checking for drugs.”
“Drugs. Oh, I thought it was one of those license and tag registration checks. Should I get out of the vehicle so you can search me? I mean my car.” She shook her head. Watch it Melanie. He’ll think you’re sending him signals. But he’s making my toes curl. No one has ever done that with just his voice.
Melanie thought he might be thinking of searching more than her vehicle. Stop it. You’re imagining things, Melanie. But she wasn’t wearing a wedding band, and his glance had darted over her left hand. To divert her overactive imagination, Melanie smiled. Perhaps he’d think she was a divorcee with children.
“Officer?”
“You look honest enough.”
“I don’t mind, if it’s standard procedure.”
“No.” Duncan glanced at the other men, explaining, “She’s waiting for the school bus. Got kids on there.”
Married huh? He could almost hear their minds turning.
Duncan turned back to Melanie. “You have a nice day, ma’am. Didn’t mean to frighten you by walking up to your car.” He noticed the bus stopping nearby, and watched as two kids got out, a boy and a girl.
The young boy ran toward them carrying some kind of instrument. He stumbled over a rock and fell in the dirt.
“Oh Matthew,” Melanie said, jumping out of the car and heading his way, but the officer beat her to it.
“He’s okay. Just anxious to get off that bus, weren’t you, Matt? I heard your mother call you Matthew.” Duncan rubbed the top of Matthew’s hair as he pulled the boy to his feet. The kid had a head full of brown hair. And blue eyes. Must have gotten those from his father.
“Aunt Melanie’s not my mom.”
She was their aunt. “I thought…”
“Are you a policeman too?” Duncan thought the boy appeared to be about eleven. “I want to be a cop when I grow up. Of course, Aunt Melanie is going to protest when I carry a gun. She doesn’t even let me have a play gun. I can talk to her until I’m blue in the face, and she still won’t listen.”
“Stubborn, huh?”
“At times.”
“Matthew, why didn’t you call me today and tell me you needed me to pick up your guitar? I would have driven to the school.”
“It’s okay, Aunt Melanie. I was supposed to bring it home last Friday, but it slipped my mind. Besides, the girls like it when I carry my instrument.”
“Yes, Aunt Melanie. The girls like it when he carries his instrument,” Duncan mimicked with a grin.
His comment made the boy laugh. “I like him. Can he come home and share pizza with us? Remember, tonight is Friday.”
“Sounds good to me.” Duncan caught Melanie’s wavering glance.
He studied her from head to toe. Just what he’d thought—blue jeans, and one stunning figure that filled them out wonderfully. He could tell by those indecisive eyes that she didn’t want any company tonight, especially not the company of an FBI agent, or any agent for that matter. He recalled how she’d looked his badge over, but he hadn’t informed her which agency he worked for. That intense look in those piercing eyes of hers told him it didn’t matter. In her book, he was still some kind of a cop, no matter which badge he carried.
“Not tonight, Matthew. He’s a busy man checking all those cars. He’s not a puppy that needs to be dragged along home with us so it can eat.”
“Of course he’s not a puppy. He’s more handsome than a puppy. And he needs to take time out for supper.” It was thirteen-year-old Tiffany speaking. She was grinning from ear to ear, and drooling over the agent.
Melanie shook her head. What had gotten into the kids? It’s not like they had never seen an officer of the law before.
“Matthew! Tiffany! Get in the car. We need to get home.”
“It’s an SUV,” Matthew corrected.
Melanie pointed her finger at it. “Just go.”
Matthew shook his head as the agent handed him the guitar.
“Is she always this way?”
“Not really. She’s usually a lot of fun. She just doesn’t date. Her birthday is coming up. She’ll be thirty.” Matthew’s eyes widened. “She doesn’t even have a boyfriend.”
“I heard that Matthew Dunbar,” Melanie exclaimed as she moved toward the vehicle.
Duncan noticed the way her hips swayed back and forth in her snug-fitting jeans and felt like howling They fit her like a second skin but weren’t tight enough to be unfashionable. She was wearing a yellow cotton blouse that showed her shapely chest quite well. A quick glimpse out of the corner of his eye hadn’t mistaken her sexy figure when she’d jumped out of the vehicle to rush to Matthew.
“Thirty isn’t over the hill, Matt. Some women want to wait until they’re sure.”
“My mom didn’t wait. She got married young, but daddy left her after I was born. Said he didn’t want us.”
Duncan hated to hear that. Dead-beat dads. He hated every single one of them. “So where is she now? Working? Is that why your aunt gets you off the bus?”
“No, Mom is on her honeymoon.” Tiffany joined in the conversation. “Aunt Melanie drove down from Tennessee to watch us while Mom is away.”
“Tennessee?”
“Yes. She works in Nashville.”
Duncan rubbed his chin. Hmm … Nashville. Not too far from Gatlinburg.
Matthew walked closer to the agent. “Tiffany, I want to talk to him. You go on with Aunt Melanie. Us men want to speak to each other.”
Tiffany rested a hand on her hip. “Men? You are eleven.”
Melanie stood by the vehicle with her arms crossed. “Come on, guys. Get the lead out.”
“She sure is a drill sergeant.”
“She’s nice, Mister. Honest. What’s your name?” Matthew asked. “And can I see your badge up close?”
“Name’s Duncan McGregor.” Duncan let Matthew take a long look at
his badge.
Tiffany hugged her books to her chest. “Duncan McGregor sounds so sexy.”
“Tiffany Dunbar!” Melanie scolded. “What would your mother say?”
“Please, Aunt Melanie, I’m only looking for someone for you.”
“Get in the vehicle. I can find my own man, thank you.”
“You haven’t had any luck yet, ma’am,” Duncan stated grinning slightly.
“Agent McGregor, is it?”
He nodded.
“I appreciate you helping to carry Matthew’s instrument.”
“Tell him he can come over for pizza. Please, Aunt Melanie. I want to hear about being an agent.” Matthew took hold of Melanie’s hand.
“Maybe another night, okay Matt?” Duncan said, once again rubbing the top of Matt’s head.
“You’ll never see us after today,” Matthew said with a touch of disappointment in his voice. He dropped his head. “Just like my dad. Something must be wrong with me for him to leave right after I was born. Now even you don’t want to come over.”
Duncan squatted and looked into Matthew’s eyes. “Listen to me. I never want you to say anything like that again. You hear me. If your father left right after you were born, he must have had a reason.”
“Mom said he told her he wanted no more kids. I thought men liked to have sons. Not my dad.”
“I think he was crazy for leaving a fine boy. And one day when you become that policeman or special agent, he’s going to be sorry he left. Any man would be proud to have you as a son. I sure know that I would.”
Matt’s eyes lit up. “You would?”
“You bet!” Duncan handed him a card. “Here, whenever you want to talk to me just give me a call.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. We might even get together next Friday for some pizza.”
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