Deceived (Unlikely Heroes Book 3)

by Leslie Georgeson

  DECEIVED

  Unlikely Heroes Book 3

  Leslie Georgeson

  Copyright 2015 Leslie Georgeson

  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author.

  * * *

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  About Leslie Georgeson

  Other Titles by Leslie Georgeson

  Connect With Leslie Georgeson

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’ve got a gun trained on you, lady. Turn around real slow.”

  Meg froze. She didn’t recognize the male voice that came from somewhere behind her. Her heart thundered. Her gaze darted around the late evening forest with its many shadows. The only possible weapon was the shovel that leaned against the fence to her left, about six feet away. Slowly she turned away from the corral fence where she’d been watching her horses finish their dinner. She inched toward the shovel as she faced the stranger.

  A quick assessment of the intruder revealed dark blondish hair cut military short, piercing blue eyes, and a large, intimidating physique that could easily overpower her. He held what looked like a Taser which he pointed at her. Gun? Hardly. Though it would be effective in subduing her.

  “If you come along quietly, I won’t have to use this thing.”

  Like hell. She wasn’t going anywhere with this creep.

  Meg kept her gaze locked on the man’s hard stare. He was law enforcement, she had no doubt. But not a good guy. Her gaze drifted down to the Taser.

  “Did Larry send you?” she asked, though she already knew. She inched a little closer to the shovel.

  The stranger’s finger twitched over the Taser’s trigger. He didn’t answer.

  “Whatever he’s paying you, I can pay more if you go away and leave me alone. My husband’s a millionaire, which I’m sure you already know.”

  Hesitation flickered in the man’s eyes. “How much you talking?”

  “How much is Larry paying you? I’ll double it. No, I’ll triple it.”

  The man shook his head. “He’ll kill me if I don’t bring you to him.” He waved the Taser at her. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Meg had no intention of becoming incapacitated by the Taser. She would never become anyone’s captive again.

  She inched a little closer to the shovel. She could reach it now if she was quick. But the laser beam of the Taser rested on her lower abdomen. He could easily pull the trigger before she reached the shovel. She had to distract him.

  “I can pay you enough that you can take your family and leave,” she offered. “Go wherever you want. Some place where Larry will never find you.”

  Indecision flickered across his face.

  Meg lunged for the shovel.

  Wrapping her fingers around the handle, she swung the shovel at the man’s hand, knocking the Taser to the ground. The man cursed. He leapt back, holding his injured hand against his chest. Then, lighting quick, he reached for the handgun attached to his side.

  Meg didn’t hesitate. She swung the shovel at his head with all her might.

  A sickening thud resounded through the forest.

  The man grunted, then toppled forward.

  Right on top of her.

  Meg cried out as they hit the ground, the shovel flinging from her hand and crashing into the dirt.

  Pain slammed into her skull as her head cracked onto something hard.

  Then everything went black.

  * * *

  Shrill wailing sounds pierced the silence of the night.

  Meg groaned. She opened her eyes.

  The sirens grew louder.

  Closer.

  Insistent.

  She bolted upright. Dizziness swam in her head. Pain throbbed through her skull, intensifying at the back of her head.

  She moaned. Pressing a hand gingerly against the painful lump, she flinched and pulled back when her fingers came away sticky with blood. She drew in several deep breaths while the dizziness slowly faded. Meg glanced down at the heavy weight squishing her legs. She cringed at the man sprawled atop her. She shoved and kicked until the body rolled off her. She shuddered.

  Meg glared across the darkening forest toward the main highway where red and blue flashing lights flared in the distance, no more than a few miles away.

  They were coming fast. She didn’t have much time.

  She had to get rid of the body.

  Now.

  She had no doubt they were coming her way. The man must have called in his location before closing in on her. Or someone had witnessed their struggle in the woods. She glanced around through the shadowed forest. The sun was almost behind the mountains now. Dusk had fallen some time ago. Just a faint haze of light trickled into the forest floor. Shadows loomed everywhere. What looked like a tree trunk or a shrub or a fallen log could actually be a person crouching down, watching her.

  A chill crept down her spine. There could be more of them hiding in the forest. Out there waiting…

  The hair sprang up on the back of her arms. Meg jerked into action, rising from the forest floor. How long had she been lying in the forest, passed out with the brute’s body on hers? She glanced down at the man again. Was he dead? She hoped so.

  She noticed the shovel on the ground near the edge of the corral. She bent and picked it up, propped it back against the fence. She didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention to it. If the man was dead, then she’d killed him, and the shovel was the murder weapon.

  Her skull throbbed again, a sharp sting that momentarily blinded her. Dizziness spiraled through her head. She grasped the nearest tree trunk and leaned into it, drawing in deep breaths.

  The sirens grew louder, closer.

  They were almost here. She had to do something about the body.

  Now.

  The man’s huge, bulky frame would be next to impossible to move on her own.

  Unless…she glanced at the horses in the corral, barely visible in the fading light.

  Pushing away from the tree, Meg stumbled for the barn. She snatched a halter from a hook on the wall, hanging it over her shoulder. Sh
e hefted Prince’s saddle from its stand and hurried back outside, fighting back a sudden wave of nausea.

  Meg paused, drawing in deep, calming breaths. Prince eagerly approached, while Mystic Lady scurried away at the sight of the saddle. Typical. The mare wouldn’t have been Meg’s first choice for this assignment anyway. Mystic Lady was more flighty than the gelding and less reliable.

  Prince obediently lowered his nose. Meg slipped the halter over his elegant head. She led him out of the corral and looped the lead rope over the fence post. Her hands shook as she tossed the saddle blanket onto his back, then hefted the saddle up. Meg adjusted it, tightened the cinch.

  The sirens grew annoyingly louder, the shrill wails making Mystic Lady snort and race away from the fence. Prince stood still, his ears cocked, but he gave no indication that he was disturbed by the noise.

  A rope! She needed a rope.

  Meg stumbled back to the barn, fighting back the dizziness and the nausea that had settled into her stomach. She snatched a lariat off the wall. Meg darted back outside.

  The main road lit up with red and blue flashing lights as the law approached.

  Dammit, they were almost here!

  Meg wrapped the rope around the man’s feet, pulling it tight. Then she dallied around the saddle horn several times. She urged the gelding into the woods toward the river, breathing deeply to keep the nausea at bay. The horse followed through the dark forest, tugging the body behind him. Prince’s ears twitched back as the body shuffled after him, but he didn’t bolt, even when the body banged into fallen logs and tree stumps.

  At last they reached the bank above the water. Meg glanced back toward her little cabin in time to see the lights of several vehicles racing into her gravel driveway.

  Shit!

  She pulled on the gelding’s halter until the horse dragged the body up by the bank.

  “Good boy, Prince.”

  She patted the gelding’s neck and left him ground tied as she raced back to the man’s body. When she slipped the rope off the man’s feet, one of his shoes came off. Meg snatched the shoe up. She tossed it in the river. Leaning her back against the body, Meg gathered her strength and pushed, trying to shove it downhill toward the water.

  It didn’t budge.

  Voices echoed through the forest.

  They were coming!

  Her heart slammed into her ribs. Trying again, she pushed backward with all her might, using her feet as leverage. The body moved slightly.

  Meg grunted and kept pushing backwards with everything she had.

  At last the body tumbled down the small incline and splashed into the river. Meg stood, her muscles aching from the strain of pushing the big man into the water. Her head throbbed. But the nausea had passed. Doing her best to ignore the pain, she hurried back to Prince and picked up his lead rope in time to see several flashlights darting around her back yard. Damn, they were fast. Had they heard the splash? She hoped not.

  Praying the current had sucked the body downriver, because she didn’t have time to make sure the man wasn’t lying in plain view, Meg turned back toward the house with her horse, pulling on Prince’s lead rope to get him to hurry.

  Her cellphone shrilled like a fog horn, loud and clear and directing the cops through the darkness right to her.

  Shit!

  Meg fumbled with the phone, digging it from the pocket of her baggy jeans. She glanced at the screen.

  Curtis.

  She had to talk to him. It could be important.

  She swiped the screen.

  “This is not a good time,” she whispered into the phone. “Make it quick.”

  “Larry broadcast a bounty on you this morning. Ten grand to whoever brings you to him alive and unharmed. There will be men hunting you.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Too bad it had come too late. She disconnected the call and stuffed the phone back in her pocket.

  “Sheriff’s Department!” a voice shouted through the trees. “Hold it right there! Hands in the air!”

  She froze, raising her hands where they could see them. Her heart pounded. Meg squinted against the bright flashlight that shined in her face.

  Don’t let them see how terrified you are.

  “State your name and business out here!” the voice commanded.

  Her name? Who was she pretending to be now?

  “Kim Johnson,” she said, recalling the name on her fake driver’s license, her voice sounding weak even to her own ears. “I l-live here. Please don’t shoot.”

  “Keep your hands where we can see them.”

  Several people approached through the thick underbrush, rudely shining their flashlights in her face. When they reached her, they fanned around her, a big guy in front, and several other officers moving around to the side and behind the horse. She could make out the outline of their bodies but couldn’t see their faces clearly.

  “What are you doing out here?” the guy in front asked, his flashlight still shining in her face.

  “My h-horse got away a little while ago and I just caught him and was bringing him back,” Meg lied. “What’s going on?”

  “We received a 911 call from a man saying someone was trying to kill him at this address,” the man in front told her in that same commanding voice.

  Meg held back a snort of disbelief. They’d gotten it all wrong. She was the one who’d been threatened. She was the one whose life was in danger.

  Fear clenched her chest. What if the man wasn’t dead? What if she’d only knocked him out? What if he crawled out of the river and came back for her?

  Meg shivered. When the stranger had threatened her earlier, he hadn’t been on a cellphone. So how had he called 911? Had he called the cops while she’d been passed out on the forest floor? Then why was he still out cold—or dead—when she woke? Had someone else called? If so, who? Was someone else out there in the forest? Watching?

  She shivered.

  Meg couldn’t see any of the cops’ faces in the dark, but they could easily see hers since they were all shining their lights at her. Could they see how terrified she was? She cringed inwardly. Her every instinct screamed run! But she couldn’t outrun them. She would be a fool to even try.

  “I haven’t seen anyone out here,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “But you’re welcome to look around. Maybe whoever called got the address wrong.”

  Though she couldn’t see his face, she felt the piercing stare of the big man in front of her. Felt his gaze boring into her. Scrutinizing her. She had a feeling he didn’t believe her lies.

  “The house to the north is vacant,” he said. “I know, because I just bought it. And the people who live south of you are vacationing in Europe until the end of the summer.”

  “Oh.” Heat crept into her cheeks. So much for convincing them to check the neighbors’ houses. The only other houses out here were farther down the road.

  She sucked in a breath as the man’s words sank him. He was going to be her new neighbor? That was just what she didn’t need: a cop living next door.

  Her heartrate kicked up. Her breath caught.

  Oh God, let that body be gone by now. I don’t want to go to jail.

  “Do you have any weapons on you?” the man asked.

  She shook her head. “N-no.”

  “What about the horse?”

  She snorted out a humorless laugh. “You think my horse is armed?”

  The man wasn’t amused. Meg could sense it even though she couldn’t see his face. She imagined if she could that he’d be scowling.

  “Andrews, Michaels, keep searching the area. Jones, take the horse. Check the saddle for weapons.”

  The man named Jones reached for Prince’s lead rope. Meg reluctantly let go of the rope, hoping the cops wouldn’t hurt her horse. The other two officers moved away, searching through the underbrush with their flashlights.

  Meg felt the man in charge’s gaze studying her again. “Ma’am, keep your hands where I can see them.”

&nbs
p; Meg’s heart raced. If he handcuffed her, she’d be helpless. At his mercy.

  Just like before.

  Control it, don’t let the terror overtake you.

  Despite her fear, she lifted her arms, holding her hands high. If she was compliant, they would have no cause to harm her. No cause to handcuff her.

  He lowered the flashlight and reached for the handcuffs on his belt.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong!” She reared back, away from those terrifying handcuffs. Her shoe tangled with a fallen branch, tripping her. Meg fell back into the underbrush, scraping her palms on the ground.

  The flashlight beam swept her from head to foot. The man made no attempt to assist her, just waited while she scrambled to her feet and brushed the dirt off her jeans, rubbed her sore palms. “You can’t arrest a person without probable cause,” she whispered, warily keeping her distance from the guy.

  He hesitated, his hand dropping away from the handcuffs. “No, but if I have reasonable suspicion to believe criminal activity may be afoot, I can temporarily detain you while I investigate the matter.”

  Huh? Meg swallowed hard. This guy knew the law. He was smarter than most cops she’d known. Assuming he was a legit cop.

  “S-show me your badge. I want proof that you’re law enforcement. And I can’t see your face,” she added. “How do I know you’re not a criminal pretending to be a cop?” Embarrassed by the quiver in her voice, she lowered her gaze. She imagined her terror was written plainly across her face.

  He didn’t speak for a long moment. Meg could feel him assessing her in the dark while he continued to shine the light in her face. Would he comply? Or would he just tackle her and handcuff her and haul her off like a common criminal?

  Meg held her breath as she awaited her fate.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “All right,” the cop said at last. He lowered the flashlight away from her face. Meg breathed a sigh of relief. She heard him moving around, then moments later he thrust a badge under her chin and shined the flashlight on it. She glanced down. It looked official. But that didn’t mean it was. She leaned closer and read the man’s name: Zachary Sullivan, Sheriff.

  The word Sheriff beamed out at her like the flashlight in her face. The breath snagged in her throat.