by Alexa Grace
"Yes, you are. The topic wouldn't have come up if I wasn't pregnant. You've had two years to ask me to marry you, but you didn't. You barely had time for me with all the football practices and games."
"You said you understood how important football was to me."
"I know how important football is to you. I also know how much it means to you to have a chance at pro ball."
"Marry me."
"The answer is no. I think this pregnancy was a test of our relationship and we failed miserably. You freaked, and I made the stupid decision to hide it from my parents. Even worse was the decision I made to give the baby away."
"Honey, you have to reconsider. I looked everywhere for you."
"I don't trust you to be there when the going gets tough, Paul. I'm sorry, but I don't. Things may change in the future, but right now I can't see me being with you any time soon. I'm taking my dad up on his offer to move home, have the baby and possibly raise him or her there. If you want to see the baby and have a relationship, I'm all for that. It's up to you."
It was six o'clock the next morning and Jennifer was fast asleep when her dad crept into the hotel room. Tim took off his jacket, put his revolver in a drawer, and hung up his holster. He looked at her and thought of how angelic she looked in sleep, just as she had as a child. His baby was all grown up now and soon would have a baby of her own.
Suddenly his cell phone sounded, piercing through the quiet room. Jennifer stirred and opened her eyes and watched him as he answered.
"Shit, I forgot all about you guys. Are you at the lake? No kidding. Did you call a tow truck yet? Okay, I'll be right there."
"What was that about, Dad?"
"I forgot all about the scuba team searching for evidence in Monroe Lake this morning. They just found your car. I'm going out to meet them."
"No you're not." She pulled herself out of bed, still dressed in the jeans and shirt from the night before. "It's my car they found and I'm going. I know exactly where the lake is. Besides, you better get some sleep. Sometime later today, we need to tell Mom about my pregnancy."
"Talked me into it," he said as he headed for the shower.
At Monroe Lake, bright beams of sunlight cut through the trees surrounding the sparkling blue lake. It was a beautiful morning for being outside doing anything besides looking for evidence that might lead to a missing person — alive or not.
Blake Stone stood watching the rest of his team walking out of the water toward the shore and didn't notice Jennifer pulling in a parking space near the boat dock. The men pulled off their diving suits as he had done and threw them on the shore.
Blake reached down in the water for the rope tied to their boat and looped it around a wooden dock post.
Jennifer watched Blake from the distance as she walked toward him on the dock. He was obviously the one in charge. He carried himself with a commanding air of self-confidence. She watched his powerful, well-muscled body move with grace as he helped a man in a scuba suit out of the boat.
"I can't tell you how freaking glad I was that we found her car but didn't find Jennifer Brennan down there," Blake said to the man standing next to him.
"And I can't tell you how freaking glad I am that you found her car but didn't find Jennifer Brennan down there."
Hearing the feminine voice, he spun around and at first thought he was seeing things. Standing in front of him, very much alive, was the young woman in the photo his sheriff had given to him.
Blake put his hands on his hips and said, "You're alive. And you're even more beautiful than your photo, Jennifer Brennan."
Michael Brandt called an emergency meeting for one o'clock and his office soon filled as Tim, Frankie and Lane arrived and took their seats at his conference table.
Michael started the meeting. "The three of you did an outstanding job apprehending two men who would have taken more lives and sold more babies, if you hadn't. I can't thank you enough."
Frankie swelled with pride, as she smiled at Lane.
But there is additional work to be done if we want to successfully prosecute them and keep their asses in jail where they belong," Michael began. "I want this case tied up with a neat little bow. I want the evidence to be so air-tight they have no defense. So while we're waiting for the rest of the forensic evidence to come in, there are some things that need to be done."
The sheriff nodded in agreement and turned to Frankie. "Frankie, I'd like you to stay on the op for a while. I know how good you are at finding people. Find David Chamber's wife. She's disappeared, undoubtedly trying to get away from him since he put her in the hospital a couple of times. Find her and discover what she knows about David's whereabouts and behavior the day of both murders."
Frankie nodded. Of course she'd stay on the op until David Chambers and Dr. Caine received the punishments they deserved.
"Another one for you, Frankie, is to interview every employee of the Forever Home Adoption Agency, as well as the pregnant women living in his apartment house. See if they have some valuable information for our case."
"Will do," Frankie responded.
"Just one more thing. If you don't already have cell records for David Chambers on the day of each of the murders, get them. Check his cell tower history to pinpoint his whereabouts." She made a mental note to call her contacts as soon as she could. If the cell tower showed David's location to be in or near Kramer the days of the murder, it was strong evidence for the prosecution.
Tim looked across the table at Lane. "Lane, I know this was your first big case. I want you to know I'm proud of the way you handled yourself. I know Michael is too. We have one more important thing for you to take care of. Follow the money to the Caymans. The bank there is not being very cooperative. We need you there in person. Follow the money so we can make a connection between the selling of the babies and the money the doctor received."
"Yes, sir," said Lane.
"I also want you to look for banking records that show Dr. Caine putting large sums of money in David's account following each murder. Take as long as you need in the Caymans. I have money in my budget for the trip."
Frankie's heart sunk at this news. Depending on how cooperative the bank would be, Lane could be away for weeks.
The group was standing up, ready to leave, when Michael's desk phone rang.
"Are you serious? Damn it, I didn't know Anne was having contractions or I never would have scheduled this meeting here. Is the ambulance just leaving? Okay. I'll meet her at the hospital!"
"Anne? Is she having the baby?" asked Frankie.
"Make that — babies. She's been on bed rest the last two weeks and didn't want you to know.
"Why not?" She was incredulous. Frankie didn't think she and Anne had secrets from each other.
"She said you wouldn't let her continue with the computer work she was doing for your company while you were gone. She said she'd go insane on bed rest with nothing to do."
"It just hit me. Did you say 'babies', as in plural?"
"Yes, there are two of them." He smiled at her as he hurried to the door.
"Michael, wait up. I've got a deputy downstairs to take you!" Tim said as he ran after him.
Hours later, Lane and Frankie walked into Anne's hospital room with a pink gift bag along with a blue one filled with baby presents. Anne was holding their baby girl, Melissa Anne, while Michael held his namesake, Michael Jr.
Frankie crept up to Anne, hugged her neck and kissed her cheek. "Wow! They are so beautiful." She stroked the baby in Anne's arm across her cheek.
Anne held the tiny infant girl wrapped in a soft pink blanket out to Frankie. "Please hold her. Melissa wants to meet her God-Mom."
"God-Mom, are you serious? Daisy will kill me."
"No chance," said Michael. "Daisy is on cloud nine and hasn't come down since we asked her to be 'Grammy'."
Frankie took the small bundle from Anne's arms and sat in a nearby chair to cuddle her, inhaling the sweet baby smell of her hair.
&nb
sp; Lane watched Frankie. She was glowing and was definitely a woman who was meant to hold babies. And if he had his way, she'd be holding as many of his as she wanted.
On the way to the airport, there were so many things Lane wanted to say to Frankie, but they were rushing like crazy to make his flight. It didn't seem like the right time. In the driver's seat, Frankie raced to the departure curb and skidded to a stop. She jumped out to help with his luggage. He grabbed his heavy suitcase before she could and placed it on the curb.
He gathered her up in his arms. "Back there in the doctor's basement, I forgot to tell you something."
Frankie was confused. "What?"
"I love you back." With that he raced inside to catch his flight.
Lane was in the Caymans for two weeks. They were two long weeks for Frankie. Each night seemed worse than the last. She couldn't seem to sleep without Lane's warm body next to hers. She tossed and turned, until she finally gave up and read a book or watched television.
She'd moved her things out of the house in Bloomington. Tim hired people to thoroughly clean the house, especially her bedroom where she fought with David. She boxed the few things left by Lane and put the boxes in her guest room.
Frankie had travelled to Bloomington almost every day to interview Forever Homes Adoption Agency employees. A couple of nurses who had important knowledge agreed to testify as long as they wouldn't be prosecuted for their involvement.
She searched for David's wife and couldn't find her. She came to a dead end at the Nashville hotel. The great difficulty she was having finding her made Frankie think the woman had professional help and was in hiding.
With each day that passed, her confidence in her relationship with Lane slipped. She had not heard from him. If he was going to back out of their relationship, now was as good a time as ever. She was beginning to wonder if she'd ever see him again.
Fifteen days had passed and she was in the kitchen making a pitcher of iced tea when she heard her doorbell. She swung open the door and found Lane holding a very large black puppy in his arms. Surprised and filled with joy, she moved aside for him to enter.
"How did you get here from the airport? And is that my Giant Schnauzer puppy you're holding?"
Lane wrapped his one free arm around her neck and kissed her soundly.
"Michael picked me up at the airport. I asked him to bring this little buddy with him so I could give him to you."
He put the puppy on the floor and it bounded to Frankie and gave her puppy kisses all over her face when she bent down to him. She laughed with delight. "Isn't he beautiful?"
"Yes, and he likes to ride in the car," said Lane. "I bought him a collar. Baby, you might want to check to see if it is too tight."
Frankie inserted her finger between the collar and the puppy's fur, sliding it completely around the collar until she stopped. She had touched a cold, metallic object dangling from the buckle. She bent down to look closer. Fastened to the collar was the most beautiful diamond engagement ring she'd ever seen.
Unable to speak, she threw herself into Lane's arms. He held her so close, it was hard to breathe.
"So you're saying 'yes', right? Because if you're not, I've got a whole lot of persuading to do, and we can get started right now in your bedroom."
"Yes, Lane. Yes. Forever. Yes."
# # #
Dear Reader:
If you liked Deadly Deception, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book too by recommending it to your friends on Goodreads or by writing a positive review on Amazon.
If you do write a review, please send me an email at [email protected]. I’d like to give you a free copy of Deadly Offerings or my next book Deadly Relations as a way of thanking you.
Thank you.
Alexa Grace
Turn the page for more sizzling romantic suspense from
Alexa Grace
Deadly
Offerings
Book One in the Deadly Trilogy
Available now on www.Amazon.com
Deadly Offerings
Book One in the Deadly Trilogy
He may offer her only chance at survival.
But will she survive the passion that rages between them?
Anne Mason thinks she’ll be safe living in the Midwest building a wind farm. She may be dead wrong. Someone is dumping bodies in her corn field and telling Anne they are gifts—for her!
As the body count rises, Anne realizes a cold-blooded serial killer is patiently waiting and watching her every move. And he won’t stop until he ends her life. It is clear there are no limits to this killer’s thirst for revenge or how far he will go to get it.
Anne is not at all pleased to learn that her new next-door neighbor is county prosecutor Michael Brandt — the same man who represented her ex in her divorce proceedings. He is the last person Anne can trust, but may offer her only chance at survival from a psychopathic killer. But will she survive the passion that rages between them?
Excerpt from Deadly Offerings
Anne peered into her refrigerator. Not a piece of junk food in sight. She opened the freezer. How could she be out of ice cream at a time like this?
She had to get out of the house. Tonight bad memories hung over her like a thundercloud. She relived the humiliating divorce hearing over and over, becoming angrier each time.
She tried to sleep. No success. She got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jean shorts, a black glittery Lady Gaga tank top and her Reeboks. She’d go for a drive to clear her head. It was close to midnight but with any luck, she’d find someplace open to stock up on junk food.
She backed her SUV out of the garage, shoved the gear to drive and moved down the street, windows down, the breeze whipping her ponytail about her face. She drove down Route 40 until she reached a section of fast food restaurants, bars and a mini-mart. The mini-mart didn’t look busy so she parked in front.
She grabbed a shopping basket and strode down an aisle of the store picking up Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Butterfinger candy bars, tortilla chips, a jar of salsa, and a quart of soda as she went. She moved to the refrigerator case and eyed the selection of ice cream. She pulled out a couple of cartons of Ben & Jerry’s Red Velvet Cake then headed to the teenaged cashier whose eyes were plastered on her long legs.
She paid for the items, whirled around and slammed into the hard chest of a tall man entering the store. Her items tumbled from the bag. The salsa jar rolled across the store as did the bottle of soda. The man uttered “sorry” as he bent to help her pick up the items. He picked up the salsa and put it in her bag. He moved down the aisle to get the soda that had rolled under a freezer then turned toward her. In a black leather jacket and snug faded jeans, he was one of those men that radiated testosterone. And wasn't it just her luck, or lack of, that Michael Brandt, her jerk ex-husband's attorney was heading toward her holding her soda, sending her a dazzling smile that sent her stupid heart racing. She yanked the soda bottle out of his hand, thanked him and resisted the childish urge to kick him in the shin. Instead, she rushed out of the store.
She opened the back of the car to place the groceries inside. She pulled a Butterfinger bar out of one of the bags and got into the front seat. As she opened the candy bar, she glanced at Michael Brandt, still inside the store, who was now staring at her with an odd expression on his face, hands on his hips.
She heard movement in the back seat then felt something hard slam against her face. The candy bar flew out of her hand and landed on the floorboard.
“Drive.”
She looked in the rearview mirror and gasped; a sliver of panic cut through her. A man in a black ski mask was slammed against her seat thrusting a gun in her face.
Coming Soon — Deadly Relations
Book Three in the Deadly Trilogy
She races against time to find a serial killer before he strikes again.
The most important case of her career could be her last.
A serial killer of young women
hides in plain sight in a quiet county in the Midwest. He hides behind a friendly face that inspires trust, a personality that is charming and persuasive, and a rage to kill.
Detective Jennifer Brennan knows from personal experience that an abduction is the equivalent of a nuclear blast to a family. So when three young women go missing and are found murdered on her watch, she vows to find the killer — or die trying.