Wyoming Undercover
Page 24
“When will this occur?” someone asked from the crowd.
“As soon as the tests can be completed,” a tall man in a dark suit answered. “We will be gathering samples from both parents and children and will rush these through.”
“How did you come to learn that the cult had these children?” someone else asked.
“This man,” Sheriff Jones said quickly, speaking before the FBI agent could. “His name is Jack Moreno and he’s a private investigator.”
Jack stepped forward, explained how he’d been hired, and how he’d been knocked out and woken up inside the cult. “Divine intervention, maybe?” he asked with a rakish grin that made Sophia’s heart skip. “I had lots of help from some friends I made inside.”
“Those responsible for the abductions have been brought into custody. A hearing will take place tomorrow to determine if bail can be set.” The agent took a deep breath. “That’s it for now. That concludes our news conference.”
Then Jack, Sheriff Jones and the men in dark suits left the room.
When the announcer came on, gushing over the exciting news, Deirdre grabbed the small, black square and turned off the TV.
“Interesting, isn’t it?” she asked. “I know the others will have lots of questions. I have answers. Let’s go talk with them.”
“You go. I’m going to stay here,” Sophia said. “I need a shower and a nap.”
“I understand.” Deirdre turned to Rachel. “You need to come with me. I want you to hear what I have to say. Everyone, you included, has a decision to make.”
* * *
On the way back to town, both Jack and Sheriff Jones were quiet, each lost in their own thoughts.
“What do you think will happen to them?” Jack asked. “I got to know a lot of people when I was inside. They’re good people.”
“Who knows? The compound is registered to a corporation.”
“Was COE incorporated?”
“Not that I know of.” Sheriff Jones shrugged. “This corporation was formed before the cult came into existence. It’s called E&D Development, Inc. Ezekiel and his first wife, Deirdre, are full owners. They must have intended to eventually develop that tract of land. Since my educated guess is that Ezekiel is going away for a long time, I think it all depends on what Deirdre decides to do.”
The sheriff dropped Jack off at the motel.
He pushed away his exhaustion and went looking for Sophia. As the elevator doors opened on her floor, he heard women’s voices and laughter coming from a room at the end of the hall. Following the sound, he entered the crowded room, searching for Sophia.
“She’s not here,” Rachel said, materializing at his side. “She wanted a shower and a nap, so she’s probably asleep in her room.”
“Here,” Deidre said, handing him her key card. “I’m planning to sleep here with the others, so you two will have the room to yourself.” Then, to Jack’s surprise, she winked at him. He grinned and thanked her, turning to go.
Several of the other women noticed him, calling out greetings. He waved and nodded before making a quick exit.
He knocked three times on Sophia’s door, trying not to worry when she didn’t answer. She might still be in the shower or napping. Finally he used Deirdre’s key card to unlock the door. Luckily, Sophia hadn’t thought to use the chain.
The dark room meant she’d probably fallen asleep. He thought of where Ezekiel had hit her with his cane and decided against crawling under the covers with her. Instead he went into the bathroom and quietly closed the door before washing up for the night.
When he finished, he removed his shoes and darkened the room before opening the door so he wouldn’t wake her. To his surprise, she’d sat up in bed and turned the bedside lamp on.
“Hey,” she said softly. “I saw your talk. You did well.”
Carefully, he lowered himself to the edge of the bed and kissed her, a quick brush of his mouth against hers. “Thanks. How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” she admitted. “But relieved, too. Deidre’s decided she and the others are going back to COE. She’s going to try to take over leadership and make the group into what it was supposed to be.”
“Really?” But as he thought about it, he realized he wasn’t surprised. “What about you?” he asked, trying for nonchalance. “What are you planning to do?”
She didn’t speak at first, which scared the hell out of him. When she finally did, her answer wasn’t at all what he expected.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“No.” The word burst from him. “You can do as you choose now. No one—not even me—has the right to tell you what actions to take. You can make your own decisions, Sophia.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Fire flashed in her dark eyes. “I’m talking about us, Jack Moreno. It’s time for you to tell me the truth. Do you truly care for me, or was that all just to get me to help you leave COE?”
He stared. “I can’t believe you just said that. You know how I feel. I’ve showed you in a thousand different ways.”
“Maybe. But, Jack, sometimes a girl needs to hear it, too.” Hope shining from her face, she watched him, waiting.
Had he never truly told her? He thought back, trying to remember, before realizing what he had or hadn’t done didn’t matter. She needed to know now.
“I love you, Sophia.” He held her gaze. “With all of my heart. And if you’ll have me, I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you by my side.” And then he held his breath, eager to hear her response.
“Was that a proposal, Jack?” she asked, a smile playing around the corners of her lips.
“Yes.” He bit out the single word, worried because he’d just realized she’d never told him she loved him, either.
“Then my answer is yes, of course.” Her smile became a grin so full of love and joy that his breath caught in his chest.
“Good.” Though he ached to kiss her, he didn’t. Not yet. “Sophia, sometimes a guy needs to hear the words, too.”
She laughed then, putting her arms around his neck and drawing him close, careful to avoid her injured shoulder. “I love you, my Jack. Today and tomorrow and forever and always. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, as well.”
He claimed her lips then, kissing her until they both were breathless.
“Come to bed,” she invited him, pulling back the covers just enough for him to see the huge, purple and yellow bruise on her shoulder. “Come to bed and prove it to me.”
Regretfully, he shook his head, shifting his body to hide his arousal. “I can’t take the chance of hurting you,” he told her. “Let me see your leg.”
“It looks bad,” she admitted, carefully lifting the sheet to reveal another horrible bruise. “There’s a lot of swelling. I couldn’t get up to go get ice, which is what I need to do.”
“Put your dress back on,” he ordered. “I’m taking you to the ER to have that looked at.”
She didn’t move. “I thought you said nobody, including you, could tell me what to do,” she teased.
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Please, Sophia. We need to get that taken care of and make sure there’s no serious injury. The quicker we can get you fixed up, the sooner we can make love. And—” he added the last, just in case that wasn’t incentive enough “—you can’t wear a wedding dress with your shoulder looking like that.”
His comments made her laugh. She held out her hand and he helped her up off the bed and into her dress. She winced a couple of times, even gasped when the material of her dress settled around her shoulders. “Let’s go,” she said. “I’ve got a wedding to plan.”
* * *
The hospital doctor insisted on X-rays and then, once he’d ascertained that nothing had been broken, wanted to file a police report.
He kept eyeing Jack as if he thought Jack had done this, but a quick call to the sheriff had cleared things up.
When Sophia told the doctor Jack had been shot in the leg, Jack was examined, too. But Dr. Drew had done a fine job of stitching up the wound.
In the end, she was released with a prescription for painkillers and some anti-inflammatories, and was told to rest for at least twenty-four hours.
“I’m glad we’re both going to be all right,” she told Jack on the way to the car.
“We will,” he answered. “As long as I have you by my side.”
* * *
“In all my entire life, I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous,” Sophia declared four weeks later, smoothing down the seed-pearl-encrusted, formfitting white gown.
Rachel laughed, hugging her carefully before handing her the veil. “You said that when Jack was taking you to meet your parents for the first time,” she reminded her. “This little old ceremony can’t be nearly as nerve-racking as that.”
“Want to bet?”
“Sophia, you have everything you always wanted. You’re about to marry a man you love and who loves you back. You found the family you were always missing, and they clearly adore you. You should be celebrating rather than stressing.”
Slowly, Sophia nodded. Rachel was right and her words lightened her mood.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “Instead of worrying about tripping and falling or tearing my dress, I need to focus on what really matters.”
A few minutes later a beaming Deirdre knocked on the door. “They’re about to begin,” she announced. “I’d honestly forgotten how much fun a normal, traditional wedding could be, even if it’s not at a church like the Sanctuary.”
Deirdre had returned to the compound, along with half of the former residents, to begin the long process of healing. Other children—Theodore, Benjamin and Samantha among them, had also been reunited with their parents, and some adults had begun the wide-eyed process of learning about the outside world. Dr. Drew had been found in hiding and was beginning his own recovery.
Cassandra, Enalia and Hallie entered, giggling like schoolgirls. They grabbed Deirdre and Rachel and hurried away, since the wedding party would enter the room first.
The ceremony was being held in a beautiful, old reception hall that had once been a saloon and now specialized in weddings. Sheriff Jones had booked it, refusing reimbursement.
“Are you ready?” a deep, masculine voice asked. Ralph Edwards, her birth father, waited outside the door. He’d been thrilled when Sophia had asked him to walk her down the aisle.
As long as she lived, she’d never forget how she’d felt inside meeting him and her birth mother, Sharon. They’d all cried, Sophia even more when she’d learned they’d been searching tirelessly for her for over twenty-two years. They’d known she was alive, Sharon had exclaimed, smiling tenderly through her tears. Not once had they even allowed themselves to consider the possibility that she wasn’t. She and Sharon even looked alike, a fact that bemused Sophia.
“I’m ready,” she said, blinking back tears as she took his arm.
As they walked down a long hallway, music began to play. She lifted her head, taking the measured steps she’d practiced, on her way to begin her new life with the man she loved.
* * * * *
If you loved this suspenseful romance,
look out for Karen Whiddon’s next book,
available Spring 2018!
And be sure to check out Karen’s previous books:
THE TEXAN’S RETURN
RUNAWAY COLTON
“Claiming Caleb” in
ROCK-A-BYE RESCUE
TEMPTATION OF DR. COLTON
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Operation Notorious
by Justine Davis
Chapter 1
“I’m sending him to you. Make up something you need him for.”
Quinn Foxworth blinked, and frowned at his phone. “What?”
“Fight info’s en route. You’ve got six hours to come up with something. Good luck.”
“What am I supposed—”
He stopped when he realized he was talking to dead air. He lowered the phone, staring at the screen that told him the call had lasted eighteen seconds.
Funny, it seemed shorter.
He turned to his wife, Hayley, who had come out onto the deck with two mugs of coffee and was now looking at him curiously.
“Charlie.”
“Ruh-roh,” she said with exaggeratedly widened eyes as she handed him his coffee.
“Yeah.”
He wrapped his hand around the mug. It was due to rain by this evening, and he’d come out to scan the clouds. The warmth of the coffee was welcome against the chill of the shifting season.
“Dare I ask?” Hayley said after taking a sip from her own morning brew.
“Gavin’s on his way here.”
“Our Gavin? De Marco?” Her brow furrowed. “Do we need him?”
“No.”
“Then why—”
He offered her his phone. “Call Charlie and ask.”
She laughed. “No, thank you. So she didn’t say why?”
He shook his head. “Only that it was life-and-death that he get out of there.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Whose?”
“No clue. Maybe he’s just driving Charlie crazy.”
“Now that,” Hayley said with a grin, “is a frightening thought.”
Quinn laughed. “For you? I don’t believe it.”
And he didn’t. The first time she’d met his fearsome sibling, and gotten that up and down, assessing, calculating look that intimidated less hardy souls, Hayley had never wavered.
So you’re the one who thinks she can tame my brother?
I don’t want him tamed. I love him as he is. And he loves me. So if you hurt me, you hurt him. Don’t.
Charlie had blinked, stared, then burst into laughter. She’ll do, little brother. She’ll do.
Indeed she would. Forever.
“Well,” Hayley went on after a moment, “if something’s really eating at him, one of us should be able to get him to talk.”
A quiet woof turned both their heads.
And simultaneously, they laughed at their dog, Cutter.
“You can, is that what you’re saying?” Hayley asked the clever animal.
Cutter’s plumed tail wagged, and his amber-flecked dark eyes gleamed with amusement. Given the dog’s history, Quinn wouldn’t put it past him to have even the man who had once been the most famous attorney in the country spilling his guts to him.
And then the dog’s expression changed, and his head swiveled around, looking north. Never one to waste time, he trotted off to investigate whatever had caught his attention.
“Good thing all the neighbors know him,” Quinn said.
“And we don’t live in a city of leash laws,” Hayley added.
Once they’d realized what they had on their hands, they had introduced Cutter to all of those neighbors. Most were receptive to a trained watchdog who would look out for all of them as part of his home duties. The dog was respectful of the older neighbors, gentle with the young children, playful with the pets in the zone he’d mapped out for himself, and somehow realized that the rather reclusive residents on the corner didn’t care for dogs and kept his distance.
“Maybe he can help Gavin,” Hayley said.
Quinn grimaced. “Sure. Because Gav is so good about accepting help.”
“Because he doesn’t trust anyone. Except Foxworth. Cutter is part of Foxworth. Besides there’s one thing he can be surer of with Cutter than anyone.”
Quinn lifted a brow at her. “Which is?”
“Cutter,” she said seriously, “will never, ever lie to him.”
And that, Quinn thought, was the key to Gavin de Marco. He would tolerate much, never blinked at the grimness and unfairness he sometimes encountered in his work for them but, with very good reason, he refused to put up with liars.
And now he was going to get therapy from a dog. A dog Gavin didn’t quite understand yet. But he would. He’d have no choice.
Quinn nearly grinned at the prospect.