by Tanya Stowe
“Agent Harris speaks very highly of the man.” Her father’s tone was approving.
“I can’t wait to meet him and thank him.” Her mother gripped her hand. “If anything had happened to you, Drina...”
Drina didn’t quite know how to handle this new, emotional side of her mom. She hesitated, but just for a moment before she decided to do what seemed natural. She leaned forward and pulled her mother in for a tight hug.
“I can’t wait, either, Mom. He’s very special,” she murmured.
They exchanged a quiet look, and a smile flitted over her mother’s lips.
“Well, I for one will be very glad to get on a plane and put all of this behind us.” Her father sounded flustered, out of his element.
Drina sighed. “I’m not sure I’ll be going back with you.”
“What do you mean, not going back?” Now her father sounded even more flustered.
“I’m not sure what’s in my future, Dad. I’ll have to wait and see. Besides, Agent Harris says I might not have a job to go back to. In fact, he’s offered me a position with the CIA.”
“The CIA? They almost got you killed. Surely...”
Her mother placed a calming hand on her father’s arm.
“Whatever you decide will be fine with us, Drina. You know what you’re doing.”
The softly spoken words silenced Drina’s father and filled Drina with unexpected pleasure.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Of course you do. Of course. We’ll support whatever decision you make.”
It was tough for her father to step out of control mode, but Drina appreciated his effort.
“We’ve booked a suite at a hotel. We’ll be staying here for a while. Is that all right?”
Drina smiled. “Yes. It’s more than all right. That’ll be wonderful.”
“Good. Why don’t you get dressed, and we’ll check you out of the hospital.”
“First I have to find Cal and talk to him.”
“We’ll wait in the lobby.”
Her mother tugged her father out of the room. He still seemed to be floundering in unfamiliar territory, and his unaccustomed awkwardness made Drina smile. He needed a good shake-up because there were many changes ahead of them.
Determined to find Cal, she climbed out of the tall hospital bed and pulled on her new jeans and T-shirt. She’d just removed the tags from her new socks and was slipping into her shoes when someone knocked.
“Come in.”
Cal stood in the doorway. He wore new clothes, too—jeans and another of the waist-hugging, long-sleeved T-shirts he seemed to favor. He looked healthy and strong, except for the white bandage across his forehead and that one stubborn dark curl that curved against the white patch.
Relief surged through Drina and she hurried toward him, her shoelaces flopping on the tile.
Wrapping her arms around his slender waist, she said, “At last. I was beginning to think something was wrong. I tried to see you, but they wouldn’t tell me where you were.”
Cal allowed her to hug him for a moment before he grasped her arms and gently eased her back. “I know. I asked them to keep you away.”
“What...?” Drina’s question came out in a whisper. “You didn’t want to see me?”
“Of course I did. But I thought... I thought you needed a little space, some time apart, time to think.”
“To think...about what?”
“Drina, the kind of experience we just went through...sometimes danger like that can mess with your mind. Shock and fear can make you think and feel things that aren’t real.”
Drina stepped back. “Not real?” She shook her head. “When I saw Carter pushing you into his car...I fell apart...fell to my knees. I begged the Lord to help me, to save you. He answered my prayers, Cal. Peace filled me. That was the most real experience of my life.”
She stepped forward and placed her palms flat on his chest. His heart pounded against her fingertips. “I’ve placed my life in His hands, right beside yours. I can’t wait to learn more, to see where He takes us.”
Cal’s handsome features were unreadable, and her thoughts clouded with despair. “Unless...are you telling me you don’t feel the same way?”
He grasped her hands. “Not a chance, Drina Gallagher. You said, ‘I do.’ I’m not letting you get away without trying to make that true.”
Drina smiled. “Are you sure? They tell me I’m a challenge. I don’t follow protocols. I don’t even know the rules.”
His lips lifted in one corner with the wry twist Drina had come to love. Sliding strong, capable hands over her hips, he pulled her closer. “I’m sure I’m the right man to further your education. We covered music. I think we’ll move on to the cinema.”
Curling her fingers around his neck, she pulled his lips close to hers. “Good. Let’s start with Superman.”
* * * * *
If you liked this book, try these other danger-filled
Love Inspired Suspense stories:
DEEP WATERS by Jessica R. Patch
HIGH DESERT HIDEAWAY by Jenna Night
WILDERNESS REUNION by Elizabeth Goddard
DEAD RUN by Jodie Bailey
Available now from Love Inspired Suspense!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com
Keep reading for an excerpt from SHATTERED LULLABY by Laura Scott.
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Dear Reader,
I have a funny story to tell about Mojave Rescue. My husband was an electronic warfare engineer. So you can see where I got my inspiration for Drina’s occupation. Many years ago he took me on a tour of the air force base where the rocket stands are located. They were in disuse and rusting and very spooky. I thought it would be a great location for a mystery. My husband agreed and said he would be glad to help me with details.
It took me six months to come up with a story I thought would work...about top secret plans for a satellite that would orbit the earth and shoot down any missiles coming into US air space. I even had a great name for it...Star Wars.
I enthusiastically told my idea to my husband and asked his advice. He promptly told me the idea wouldn’t work and he couldn’t help me. In fact, he didn’t think I should write the story. Frustrated and confused, I dropped the idea. Two weeks later the paper announced that the president had signed a bill to fund a new program called Star Wars where a satellite would shoot down missiles.
They had renovated the rocket site test stands and my husband had been videotaping those tests for the previous month. If I had written that story, no one would have believed that I came up with the idea on my own and his job would have been in jeopardy!
My husband is retired now. We sold our home in the Mojave and have moved into a motor home to travel. With his career behind him, I felt safe enough to create a new story set in the Mojave. Many aspects are different but one detail is the same...that eerie place on the hill called the rocket site. It seems appropriate that my first story with Love Inspired Suspense should be set in the place I called home for over thirty years.
Tanya Stowe
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.
You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.
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Shattered Lullaby
by Laura Scott
ONE
Lacy Germaine woke to the sound of heated arguing. For a moment, she buried her head into the pillow in an effort to drown out her parents’ fighting.
And then she remembered—her parents were long gone, both killed in a car crash several years ago. Abruptly, she sat bolt upright on the futon, her heart thundering in her chest.
One of the voices belonged to her sister, Jill, but who was she talking to?
Lacy leaped out of bed and went over to check on her three-month-old nephew, Rory, who was still sleeping, but not for long, considering the harsh tones coming from the next room.
At first the voices were low and angry but still incomprehensible. It didn’t take long for the deeper male voice to rise. “Tell me the truth! Now! Or I’ll kill you and the brat, too!”
Lacy sucked in a harsh breath, understanding with sick certainty that her sister’s worst fears had become reality. Jill’s husband, David Williams, had returned home.
And he was ambushing her sister after midnight.
Reacting instinctively, Lacy lifted her nephew from the crib and grabbed the long shawl-type wrap, winding it around and around, swaddling the baby snugly against her body. Then she fumbled for her cell phone and dialed 911.
“What’s your emergency?”
“Domestic violence at 1671 Elmwood Lane,” she whispered into the phone. “Hurry!”
“Please stay on the line,” the woman responded calmly.
Lacy wanted to yell that this was her sister’s life at stake! But of course she didn’t.
“I can’t. He’ll hear me.” Lacy disconnected from the call. She needed both of her hands free in order to manage the baby.
Her brother-in-law obviously didn’t know Lacy was there, staying with Jill to help out over spring break. If he found out Jill wasn’t alone...
She couldn’t finish the thought.
“No, please...”
Lacy hated the idea of Jill begging for mercy. Her sister had confided that she was filing for divorce from her husband because his anger and verbal attacks scared her.
Clearly, Jill had been right. Lacy was getting a firsthand idea of how frightening her brother-in-law could be.
“Please don’t do this...” Her sister’s voice was full of tears.
Bang! Bang!
No! Lacy gasped, her heart lodging in her throat. Dear God, what had David done?
There was nothing but silence after the gun went off, forcing Lacy to assume the worst.
Jill was dead. Shot by her own husband.
And if his threat was to be believed, Rory was next.
Lacy jammed her cell phone into her purse, slung the strap over her shoulder and shoved her feet into her running shoes. Where was the diaper bag?
In the kitchen.
Knowing she couldn’t dare pass her sister’s room to get the bag, she eased out from Rory’s bedroom and darted around the corner in the opposite direction to go into the living room. She needed to get Rory out of the house, far away from his armed and dangerous father.
Thankfully, the patio doors slid open without a sound. She eased through into the mild April spring air. Relieved it wasn’t too cold, she crossed the concrete patio until she reached the damp grass.
Grateful for the lack of snow, Lacy didn’t hesitate, running around the house and toward the road. Her car was parked less than a block from her sister’s home, on the opposite side of the street, and she hoped she’d make it to the vehicle before David realized the baby was gone.
Mud squished beneath her running shoes. The warm spring weather had melted what was left of the snow, leaving mush behind. She slipped, then steadied herself.
Twenty yards, fifteen, ten. A loud thud from inside the house caused her to misstep, and this time she fell, one knee hitting the ground. Clutching the baby to her chest, she braced herself with one hand on the ground, surprised to feel a hard ridge beneath her fingertips. Some sort of key. Instinctively she picked it up and shoved it into the pocket of her hoodie as she leaped up to her feet.
Still holding the baby close with one hand, she fished in her purse for her car keys.
Five yards. Three. She was going to make it! Using her thumb, she pressed the key fob to unlock the driver’s-side door. The car made an extraordinarily loud beeping noise, front and rear lights flashing. She winced, hoping David wouldn’t hear. As if the car wasn’t loud enough to broadcast her escape, Rory began to cry.
“Hey! Stop! Get back here!”
David’s irate shout had her hunching her shoulders, half expecting to be hit with a bullet squarely in the back. Somehow, she managed to yank the driver’s-side door open and to slide in behind the wheel. There was just enough room to maneuver with Rory bundled against her. She shut the door, jammed the key in the ignition and hit the accelerator, speeding away from her sister’s house.
Lacy took a quick right and then a left, leaving the normally quiet neighborhood, expecting to hear the wail of sirens at any moment.
But there was nothing.
She’d called 911 for help, hadn’t she? So where were the Milwaukee Police? How long would it take for them to show up?
What should she do? Even if the police would be there at any moment, Lacy didn’t want to stop. What if David followed her? Every instinct she possessed told her to keep going, to put as much distance between herself and Rory’s father as possible.
Think, Lacy, think! Where was the closest on-ramp? There! She found the sign and quickly took the ramp heading northwest, deeply afraid that David wasn’t far behind.
No way would she allow him to lay one finger on Rory.
She would protect the baby with her own life if necessary. And she really, really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Driving through the night, she kept her eyes peeled on the rearview mirror. She wished she could remember what kind of vehicle David drove, but she’d been focused only on escape, nothing more. She couldn’t actually remember seeing any type of car, but David had to have driven to Jill’s house in something. Her sister’s house wasn’t near a bus route.
Rory was still crying, signifying he was either hungry or needed his diaper changed, or both.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” she whispered in a soothing voice. Logically, she knew she should head to a police station, but nothing about this night made any rational sense.
And her sister’s warnings echoed in her mind.
David’s fellow police officers always cover for him; they believe whatever lies he’s told them about me. Not one of them can be trusted.
At the time she’d thought Jill was being paranoid, but after this, she believed her sister had been right all along.
In fact, Jill had died because of it.
Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. Lacy swiped them away, knowing she needed to be careful. In an effort to relax, she turned on the radio, searching for a soft jazz station, hoping the music would help calm Rory.
His crying had subsided to soft hiccupping sobs, the sound tearing at her heart. Keeping one hand on the wheel, she stroked his back as she drove, feeling guilty over not having him in a proper car seat. Driving with him in front of her
was dangerous, but not as bad as staying behind where his father might try to kill him. Once again, her desperate need to flee wavered.
Should she turn around, go back to the police? But what if they were David’s buddies? What if they didn’t believe her?
If David succeeded in getting custody of Rory, what would prevent him from killing his son, the way he’d killed his wife?
No, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go back there. She had to wait until morning. There’d be plenty of time to find officers in another district far away from the one where David worked, who would listen to her side of the story. Surely they would believe her.
A weird beeping sound came from the radio, but before she could reach over to change the station, she heard the announcement of an Amber Alert.
“Missing three-month-old boy, Rory Williams, believed to be in a blue sedan belonging to his aunt, Lacy Germaine. The woman who took the child is in her late twenties and has long blond hair. Please call the Milwaukee Police Department if you see anyone matching this description.”
Lacy tightened her grip on the steering wheel, feeling sick to her stomach. How was it possible that there was an Amber Alert so soon? Why would the police be looking for her and Rory? What had happened at her sister’s house when the police had arrived? Had David played the role of grieving husband and father? Had he found a way to place the blame for what had happened to Jill on someone else?
On her?
She hadn’t prayed in a long time, since before her parents had died. But desperate times called for extreme measures so she sent up a quick request, hoping God would care about an innocent baby.
Help me keep this child safe.
A sense of calm settled over her, slowing her breathing, but she still needed a plan. She took the next exit on the freeway and began searching for a convenience store. Rory began crying again and she knew she couldn’t wait a moment longer. She needed diapers and formula, both essentials in caring for an infant. Good thing she still had one of Rory’s bottles in her purse from their earlier outing to the park.