Silent Night Suspect

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Silent Night Suspect Page 20

by Sharee Stover


  “I like your low expectations of celebrations. I live on a trooper’s salary.”

  She winked. “Good thing for you, I’m accustomed to thriving on a budget. However, I should have Zander’s pension and life-insurance benefits soon, and I can pay off all my debt.”

  “Zander came through,” Slade commented.

  “He did.” A peace replaced the hurt that had once reigned in her heart when she discussed Zander. She took another bite then and, eager to change topics, said, “I’m excited to find a new apartment.”

  “Just make sure it has a very short-term lease.”

  Butterflies danced in her stomach.

  “Do your plans also include a wonderful future with a certain Nebraska state trooper?” Slade pulled her closer, his breath warm against her cheek.

  She sighed in contentment. “Definitely.”

  “Good.” Slade leaned in, his lips parting slightly.

  “Merry Christmas!” Trey exclaimed, bursting through the door with Sergeant Oliver and Joe Gilade.

  Asia giggled and sat back, ears warm. She busied herself cutting another piece of dessert.

  “Worst timing ever,” Slade mumbled. “Christmas is tomorrow, bro.”

  Trey laughed, and the group dragged over chairs, joining them. “Asia invited us.”

  She shrugged, grinning, and stuffed a bite of cinnamon roll into her mouth.

  Sergeant Oliver seemed to be the only one who understood they’d interrupted a moment. “Why don’t we place our orders,” he suggested, ushering Jonah and Trey to the counter.

  “As I was saying...” Slade scooted closer and lifted her chin, claiming Asia’s lips with a wordless promise for their future.

  And her outlook had never looked brighter.

  EPILOGUE

  Three months later...

  Asia grinned, absorbing the beauty of the spring day and taking in the landscape of rolling hills surrounding the lake. Slade parked beneath the trees coming to life with new green leaves. The scenery was brilliant against the cerulean sky adorned in marshmallow clouds.

  A wooden sign near the entrance read Misty Lake Park.

  She tugged her favorite fuzzy sweater tighter, excited to venture into the park. The temperatures were chilly, but fresh grass had sprouted after the long winter, and she was eager to enjoy the outdoors again.

  Asia glanced at the cement path that wound among the assortment of blooming foliage. Squirrels chattered, running between trees, and the sunlight shimmered off the lake, mirroring images.

  Slade turned off the engine, then faced her with a boyish grin on his handsome face. “We’re here.”

  “This is beautiful.” She exhaled. “Who knew a spring day in Nebraska could be this gorgeous?”

  “This is by far one of my favorite places.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Really? Then why haven’t we ever been here before?”

  “I was saving it for something special.” His caramel eyes twinkled with conspiracy. Slade helped her from the vehicle, then hefted out the basket from the back seat. “Is it too cold for a picnic?”

  “Are you kidding? We’ve got sunshine and fabulous weather, and it’s cool enough there aren’t bugs,” she said with a wink.

  “I love your rationalizations.”

  She pivoted slowly, taking in the entirety of the place, awed by the beauty all around her.

  “Are you planning on standing there all day?”

  “I’m enjoying the view.”

  “If I pass out from hunger, you’ll have to carry me.” Slade handed her a blanket.

  “We can’t have that.” She tucked her arm in the crook of his, and they strolled through the picturesque park.

  “What a neat idea,” Asia remarked, leaning over a short wooden post and reading the plaque displaying the type of tree. “This one is a dwarf Autumn Blaze maple.”

  “The park specializes in tree preservation. It’s actually very educational.”

  “Once you retire from the patrol, you can work for the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission as a tour guide.” She laughed.

  “At least I’d still have a uniform. I hate picking out clothes.” He chuckled.

  “I love a man in uniform.” Asia planted a kiss on his cheek.

  They walked nearer to the lake, alive with ducks quacking in an intense discussion. A man jogged by with a black Labrador at his side.

  Slade grew unusually quiet, but they were comfortable with one another. Every moment no longer needed conversation.

  He led her to a grassy area where tall cottonwoods with trunks bigger than both of them hovered above, providing a canopy in lavish shades of green.

  “Does this work?” he asked, setting down the basket.

  “Looks good to me.”

  He spread out the blanket. “Sure it’s not too cool for you?”

  “Not at all.” Asia laid out their meal of fried chicken, biscuits and coleslaw. “Everything is perfect.”

  She sat beside Slade as he layered her plate with food. “Why are you so quiet today?”

  “Just taking everything in.” He leaned in, kissing her full on the lips. “But I agree, this is wonderful.”

  “It’s probably more beautiful in the summer,” Asia said, before biting into a piece of chicken.

  “The Fourth of July is the best. They have a huge celebration here.”

  “Really? I’d love to see that.”

  “Done.” He grinned. “Although, I must admit, I like winter.”

  “You do? I didn’t think anybody over the age of ten liked winter,” she teased.

  “I don’t prefer driving in whiteout conditions, but I love when snow blankets the ground. It’s like God’s way of providing nature a big do-over.”

  “I’ve never thought about it that way.” Asia considered his words. “A do-over in life would be nice. There’s so much I would’ve done differently.” She glanced down, feeling the weight of his eyes on her.

  “I wouldn’t redo anything.”

  Asia looked up. “Really? Nothing?”

  Slade tilted his head, chicken leg in hand. “Well...maybe a few things. But I’ve learned a lot of lessons from my mistakes. I’m not sure they’d have as solid an impact if they’d come easily. I know it’s made me appreciate the gifts in my life so much more. I can honestly say many of my hardships have bloomed into blessings.”

  “I forgot how philosophical you get,” Asia teased, wanting to change the subject.

  Would she ever appreciate the adversities she endured and call them blessings? Zander had tried to correct his mistakes and died in his efforts. Still, his valiant attempt and the truth about his intentions had freed her heart, and ultimately saved her life.

  They ate their fill, chatting about nothing in particular while sharing portions with a curious and brave squirrel. The day couldn’t have been more perfect, and Asia was a little sad to see it end.

  They worked together packing their leftovers and cleaning up their picnic.

  “You know what? Leave it for now,” Slade said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “But shouldn’t we—” She gestured toward the basket.

  “It’ll be fine. I don’t think the squirrels are strong enough to carry it up to their tree.”

  Asia laughed and took his hand, the gesture so natural and comfortable.

  They strolled through the park to an iron bridge. Below, a stream led from the lake to a smaller pond on the other side. They paused to watch turtles poke their heads out of the shallow water.

  Slade slid his arm around her waist, turning her toward him and tipping her chin. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Heat rushed up her cheeks. Her stomach flip-flopped like it did every time Slade looked at her the way he was now.

  His eyes darkened, soaking her in as if
he could read right into her soul. “You’ve had my heart since kindergarten.”

  “Can a kindergartner really be in love?” she quipped, suddenly nervous.

  He shrugged. “I was. You had the cutest pigtails.”

  “I remember you pulling them.”

  “I wasn’t as suave back then. I’ve improved my moves and discovered a few things over the years.” He brushed her lips softly, and warmth swirled inside her again.

  “Oh yeah, what’s something you’ve learned?”

  “I let you go once, but I’ll never do that again. I’d fight an army for you.” He slid a stray hair away from her cheek.

  “You’ve more than proven you’re battle worthy.”

  “Asia.” He reached into his pocket and produced a small black box.

  She sucked in a breath.

  Slade opened the box and revealed an antique diamond solitaire. “This was my grandmother’s ring. My dad saved it for me and said I’d know when the right one came along.” He withdrew the ring and held it between his thumb and forefinger. “Asia, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She studied him, and her throat tightened. Speak. Silent seconds ticked by. She was taking too long. He’d think she was going to say no.

  Doubt shadowed Slade’s face, and he glanced down. “Um...maybe this—”

  Finally, Asia raised herself onto her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. The scent of his aftershave floated to her, filling her senses. “Slade Jackson, I’d love nothing more than to be your wife.”

  He exhaled loudly, pressing his hand against his chest. “Did you pause for effect?”

  “Suspense heightens the moment,” she said with a shrug.

  Slade laughed. “Somehow I have a feeling life with you will never be boring.”

  “I promise a lifetime of adventure.” Asia claimed his lips and released her heart into his capable hands.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, look for Secret Past by Sharee Stover.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Fatal Flashback by Kellie VanHorn.

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you’ve enjoyed Asia and Slade’s adventures in Silent Night Suspect.

  These characters are especially dear to me because they’ve carried such heavy burdens for so long. Asia’s perceptions have tainted the way she sees everyone, even God. Slade realizes extending a tiny olive branch leads to his own healing.

  If you’re carrying a heavy burden or feeling like the storm is never going to pass, I hope you find encouragement in Asia and Slade’s story. Rest assured, you’re never alone in the Lord and good can come from even the worst circumstances.

  I love hearing from readers, so please find me on my webpage at www.shareestover.com, or email me at [email protected].

  May the source of all our hope bless you,

  Sharee Stover

  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.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired Suspense every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

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  Fatal Flashback

  by Kellie VanHorn

  ONE

  Cold water roared through her clothes, swirling over her head and through her hair, dragging her back into consciousness. Instinctively she struggled for the surface and as soon as her head cleared the water, she coughed and gasped in a few precious breaths, wiping at her stinging eyes.

  In the fading daylight the banks of the narrow river filled the horizon, impossibly high to her right but leveling out on the left. Sparse brush and skinny cottonwood trees lined the sandy river’s edge.

  Not a soul in sight.

  Something sharp—a submerged log, maybe—jammed into her ribs. She cried out in pain but was rewarded with a mouthful of dark river water. Coughing it out, she turned against the current and kicked for the bank.

  She crawled out onto the sand, tiny rocks biting into her palms, and pushed through the reeds growing at the water’s edge. Collapsing onto a clear patch of ground, she struggled to catch her breath. What on earth had happened? Where was she?

  The back of her head throbbed like she’d smashed it into a rock. Worse, though, was the way her brain felt like cotton fluff, disoriented and unfocused.

  She squinted into the last fading rays of light, one cheek pressed down on the cool sand. As the initial blackness receded, her senses clicked slowly into place. The tall reeds stood like sentinels between her and the flat, glossy stretch of dark river water, barely visible in the dying sunlight. She shivered as a light breeze drifted over her drenched clothes.

  Sitting up slowly, she pressed a hand to the throbbing place on the back of her head. When she pulled it away, a red, sticky film coated her fingers.

  Her heart jumped in her chest. If only this horrible groggy feeling would go away, she could figure out where she was. What to do now.

  Some distance to her right, the river disappeared into a deep canyon with jagged cliff walls rising on both sides. From the way the current ran, she must’ve fallen in back there, before the cliffs became impassably steep.

  That way was west—the last bit of sun was still visible dipping down behind the rim of the canyon, sending streaks of pink and orange through the distant clouds.

  In the other direction, to the east, the landscape flattened out and groves of cottonwood trees grew along the riverbank. No sign of civilization for as far as she could see.

  How did she end up here, in the middle of nowhere?

  “Ashley,” she said softly, more to reassure herself than anything else. “My name is Ashley. Thompson?”

  She rolled the last name around on her tongue. Sounded right.

  Somewhere through the haze in her brain, she remembered that something terrible had happened—something related to why she was here, wherever here was. But she couldn’t remember for the life of her what it was—only that it hurt, so badly her stomach clenched into a tight, aching knot.

  She pressed her hands to her temples, her forehead, her eyes, trying to calm her pounding heart. Panicking wouldn’t solve anything or help her remember.

  Something hard dug into her hip as she sat with her legs to one side. Fumbling in her pocket, her hand closed around the smooth, cold and heavy object, then dropped it onto the sand.

  A gun.

  She slid backward, staring at the dark weapon lying there like a rattlesnake ready to bite.

  Law enforcement. That had to be it. She stared down at her clothing, as if her soggy black pants and white blouse could explain everything. Even though it’d been in her pocket, she had a holster. The gun had to be hers. Legally, she hoped.

  And the clothes seemed familiar enough. At least they fit. She struggled to remember anything—her last meal or her last ride in a car or her last day at work—but there was nothing. Just a vast, blank space in her mind, as if someone had siphoned away her entire identity beyond her first name. How was it possible she had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there?

  And what on earth was she supposed to do now?

  Her lips parted to utter a prayer, but she checked herself almost instantly because, along with that certainty about her name and the sense that something terrible had happened, came the knowledge she wasn’t on speaking terms with God.

  She shivered. Night was coming and she had no idea where to go. The thought of wandering around looking for help in the dark was horribly u
nappealing.

  She crawled back toward the gun and picked it up, tentatively at first, but as her hand closed around it, a familiar sense of security washed over her. She clung to that tiny bit of comfort and clasped her knees to her chest, staring out across the desert. Hoping against reason that help would come.

  * * *

  Logan Everett walked across the parking lot to his Jeep. The meeting with the river ranger and the border patrol agents had taken longer than he’d expected, and the sun had begun its final descent behind the Mesa de Anguila to the west.

  He could still get in a good chunk of the drive back to Panther Junction before the onset of total darkness, but he had a nagging feeling something was wrong.

  That black sedan that had turned around in front of the general store—he had seen it from the window during their meeting—had headed down toward Santa Elena Canyon a good hour ago, and it hadn’t returned. Granted, it was hard to tell from his vantage point inside the Castolon ranger office, but it had looked like the driver, a woman, was alone.

  Now that it was almost dark, she shouldn’t still be there. She couldn’t drive that sedan on the dirt road up to Big Bend National Park’s west entrance at Terlingua and, as far as pavement went, the canyon was the end of the line.

  Logan exhaled a long breath that matched his never-ending day. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to check. He had learned that the hard way. He trusted his instincts—they hadn’t failed him yet—and if it turned out she was fine, or not there anymore, at least he’d be able to sleep tonight knowing he’d made sure.

  An image flashed into his mind—a man’s body in a ranger uniform, half a mile off the trail. Vultures circling above in the 110-degree heat. More than circling.

  Logan shuddered. No, he was not going to think about Sam. Not now.

  Please, Lord, he prayed, keep this woman safe.

  The Santa Elena Canyon parking lot lay in deep shadow by the time he pulled in. The lot was empty except for the black car, its driver conspicuously absent. Logan parked and got out, pulling a flashlight from the Jeep’s glove compartment.

 

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