“Drink up.”
“Thanks.” She downed the medicine and watched the action play out on the gravel driveway of the Prices’ property. Riggen and Detective Rosche stood in a huddle with Lieutenant Carr. Every few moments, one of them would look her way. She was about to climb down from the ambulance gurney and limp over to them when Carr clasped Riggen’s shoulder and nodded him toward her.
“That’s my cue to leave.” Devon slipped away a moment before Riggen popped his head inside.
The man she loved with all her heart grasped the frame and hovered on the edge of entry. “Can I join you?” His gaze never strayed from her face. They both knew her answer would give him entry to more than just the vehicle.
Warmth filled her at the look in his eyes and she wiggled one finger to beckon him inside. Smiling, he pulled himself into the small space and closed the door.
She scooted over on the gurney to make room for him before patting the wrinkled vinyl. Every sense went on high alert when he lowered himself beside her. Her heartbeat quickened. She angled her head to see his face, ignoring the pain that sparked down her back. “I’m sorry about Trevor.”
Riggen’s face clouded and his hand searched hers out. When he had twined their fingers together, he spoke. “It’ll be a long time before I can process everything. Trevor was the only family I had.” He choked on the words and stared at the ceiling, blinking rapidly.
“That’s not true,” she whispered. She squeezed his hand. “You have Lucas.” She stopped. Be strong and courageous. “And me.”
He turned to her and ran his free hand across her new bandage. “What you said back at the shed...”
She nodded. “I meant it then and I mean it now. I love you.”
He opened his mouth and closed it. Swallowed. Opened it again. “I’ve sorted things out with God, Lizzy. I have His forgiveness, but I don’t want to move on without yours.” He raised her bruised hand to his mouth and dropped gentle kisses across each knuckle.
Shivers chased themselves up her arm and through her body.
Leaning even closer, he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Before Iraq, I didn’t understand love. I put my fear before your needs.” He shook his head. “Now I know that real love runs full-throttle toward sacrifice, in service to others. Can you forgive me?” He stopped. Swallowed again. “And will you allow me to love you and Lucas with that type of love?”
A sense of belonging washed over Liz with Riggen’s questions. She leaned her head against the shoulder that felt like home and breathed a deep breath of possibility. “I can’t think of a more exciting adventure.”
EPILOGUE
One month later...
Liz stood back and watched Emily put the finishing touches on the American Travel booth. The International Travel and Trade Convention was about to kick off and her team had just pulled off the perfect opening-day launch.
Closing her eyes, she centered her thoughts on the One who had made it all possible. For the Lord thy God... He will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. How faithful He had proved Himself to be.
Arms circled her waist from behind. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”
A squeal of joy burst from her before she could stop it and she swiveled in Riggen’s arms. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t want to miss your first official team project.” The stubble on his chin scraped across her cheek. She stood on tiptoes to kiss the defined line of his jaw. His arms tightened around her at the touch of her lips to his skin and he dipped his head to catch her mouth with his own.
When they finally came back up for air, he whispered in her ear, “I brought you a surprise.”
“Better than this?” She rested in his arms, eyes closed, heart happy.
Something tugged at the hem of her pencil skirt. She looked down. “Baby boy!”
Lucas leaned into her legs and wrapped his tiny arms around her. She grinned at Riggen. “This is a surprise. He should be at preschool.”
At the mention of school, both Prices tilted their heads, their cowlicks flopping to the side. Her heart melted.
“We played hooky.” Riggen winked at Lucas and the boy giggled.
“Wooky.” Lucas tried to mimic his hero. He’d been staying with Riggen in Manitou Springs while Liz spent a week in California, prepping for the convention. From all accounts, her men were enjoying every moment of getting to know each other.
She had a sneaking suspicion Lucas might be a tad bit disappointed when she came home to Colorado a day early. But she wasn’t going to miss Riggen’s promotion ceremony at the Manitou Springs PD for anything.
The man was made for serving and protecting, so she had used her industry connections to find and hire a team who could take over the day-to-day of Price Excursions. Riggen could keep the business he loved while still working the job he loved.
“That’s not all, though.” Riggen nodded over her shoulder.
She turned. Kat and John approached. At the look on Kat’s face, Liz’s heart warmed. What was that softening her sister’s eyes? Approval? Love?
John wheeled to a stop next to her and nodded at the booth. “Looks great.”
“Sure does.” Kat offered a tentative smile and took a step toward Liz. Liz closed the gap before her sister could take a second and encased the older woman in a hug.
Then her phone beeped, reminding her the show would start in five minutes. She waved her hands at her family, shooing them off. “I’ve got to get my team situated. Give me half an hour and I’ll come find you.”
“Dad’s gonna show me the camel.” Lucas was breathless with excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to see into the animal enclosure that dominated the Middle East section of the conference layout.
At her raised brow, Riggen winked and nodded. “Thought I’d show him what the Middle East looks like, give him a glimpse of where his old man used to live.”
“Have fun,” she laughed. Stooping next to Lucas, she tickled his belly and whispered in his ear, “Be careful, sweet boy. Camels spit.”
His giggles followed her all the way back to her booth.
Within minutes of the show opening, the American Travel booth was a hive of buzzing activity, thanks to the vision she had set and executed. She was sending Kimberly a video of the client participation when Emily rushed to her side.
Liz stuffed her phone into her skirt’s pocket, concern chilling her at Emily’s breathless state. She reached out and touched Emily’s arm. “What is it?”
Emily pointed to the Middle East section of the convention center. “You’ve got to see this.”
Liz jogged to the area, visions of an injured Lucas giving her feet wings. But when she rounded the corner of the aisle, she stopped short. In front of her was Lucas’s camel, with Lucas and Riggen on its back.
The ungainly animal swayed forward, moving from one side to the other in a dance. The crowd parted, watching with fascination as Riggen and Lucas approached her. The camel stopped a few feet from where she stood.
“You once told me that blood doesn’t make family.” Riggen’s voice was clear, his eyes locked on hers. He stopped the camel mere feet from her and wrapped an arm around Lucas. “I agree.”
Slowly the camel bent one leg until it was down on one knee. Gasps sounded from the stunned crowd and she bit her lip between her teeth, not even trying to stop the tears pooling in her eyes.
Lucas, beaming from his perch in his father’s arms, pulled a small, square box from his pocket and handed it to his father. Riggen kissed his son’s head before flipping the box open. A solitaire diamond twinkled under the convention center’s chandeliers, each facet shining with a lifetime of promise.
Riggen pulled the ring from the box and held it toward her. “Love makes family. You, Elizabeth Hart, are my love, my life, and my family. Would you make us the h
appiest men on earth by also becoming my wife?”
She closed the remaining distance to them, the camel nosing her wet face as she slipped past its head. Holding her shaking hand toward Riggen, she opened her mouth. Her yes bubbled from deep inside and spilled out in an answering affirmation of love.
Riggen slipped the ring onto her finger and a roar of approval rose around them. He grasped Lucas in his arms and slid down from the camel’s back.
They stopped in front of her and she wrapped her arms around both of her men as the animal lumbered away.
Nuzzling her face into the soft hollow below Riggen’s ear, she whispered for him alone, “I love you, Rig.” She leaned back and cradled his face between her hands. “There’s nothing more important than family.”
* * *
If you enjoyed this book, pick up these other exciting stories from Love Inspired Suspense.
Scene of the Crime by Sharon Dunn
Covert Cover-Up by Elizabeth Goddard
Fugitive Chase by Jenna Night
Forgotten Secrets by Karen Kirst
Everglades Escape by Kathleen Tailer
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com.
Keep reading for an excerpt from Scene of the Crime by Sharon Dunn.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for joining Liz and Riggen on their adventure through abandonment, betrayal and learning to trust again. It’s my hope that you enjoyed walking with them as they wrestled with questions such as: Does God punish me for my sins? Will I run toward God’s salvation? What does being strong and courageous look like?
Liz and Riggen’s reunion played out in beautiful Manitou Springs, Colorado. Everything about Manitou is breathtaking, from Rainbow Falls (aka Graffiti Falls) to Pikes Peak to the famous Incline. Each of these locations was featured in the story, providing a breathtaking backdrop for conflict, danger and reconciliation.
I’d love to connect and hear your stories. I can be reached by email at [email protected] or on social media (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter). Don’t forget to join my newsletter at www.stephaniemgammon.com for a behind-the-scenes exclusive, and stop by my blog to visit these topics more in-depth.
Stephanie
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Scene of the Crime
by Sharon Dunn
ONE
Brooklyn K-9 Unit officer Jackson Davison opened the back of his SUV where his partner, Smokey, was crated. Eager to work, the chocolate Lab wagged his tail and jumped down at Jackson’s command.
Jackson studied the arch of Grand Army Plaza and, beyond that, Prospect Park.
“Let’s go find a body,” he said. Trained as a cadaver dog, Smokey was part of the Emergency Services Division for the recently formed Brooklyn K-9 Unit.
Jackson clicked Smokey into his leash and took off at a jog toward the memorial. The vendors around the arch were still selling food, though the crowds were smaller than earlier in the day.
A call had come into Dispatch that someone had seen a body in a cluster of trees not too far from the arch. The caller had not identified him or herself and had hung up before giving any details.
Jackson and Smokey ran toward the trees that bordered the entrance to the park. The botanic garden was closed for the day but plenty of people rested on the lawn and utilized the paths as the sky turned gray on this cool September evening.
The leash remained slack. Smokey hadn’t alerted to anything, though he kept his nose to the ground. The call could be a total hoax, Jackson knew, but the K-9 Unit would of course respond. The nature of the call bothered him. From the information the dispatcher had given him, the caller had not stayed on the line or provided any information other than a vague location. If the call was genuine, why not identify yourself and why hang up?
Smokey kept his nose on the path as they passed joggers, bicyclists, couples pushing baby strollers. With a jerk on the leash, Smokey veered off deeper into the trees. Jackson’s heartbeat revved up a notch. Smokey had picked up on something.
Jackson commanded Smokey to sit so he could unclick his leash. He patted the Lab on the chest, the signal that he could let his nose do its thing. “Find.”
Smokey took off into the deep brush and through more trees. The Lab could find remains that were years old and buried. Most civilians didn’t want to think about the five stages of smells of a body after death or the different types of odors Smokey was trained to detect. Tonight would be easy for the Lab, given it was a body above ground. Jackson had no idea how long it had been in the park or the state of decomposition. Or even if there was a body.
Jackson focused on how finding bodies often gave loved ones closure in tragic situations. It wasn’t a job for the fainthearted, but it was meaningful. And working with Smokey had brought a renewed sense of purpose into Jackson’s life after his breakup with his fiancée.
Smokey disappeared into some bushes where an abundance of gold and red leaves hung on the foliage. Jackson pushed branches out of the way, searching for his partner in the waning light. He could hear the dog moving through the undergrowth, yipping excitedly. They were close.
Jackson caught movement out of the corner of his eye: a face in the trees fading out of view. His heart beat a little faster. Was someone watching him? He could hear people on the paths some distance away, but this part of the park in the deep brush was not where most people wanted to be unless they were up to something. The hairs on the back of Jackson’s neck stood at attention as a light breeze brushed his face. Even as he studied the foliage, he felt the weight of a gaze on him. The sound of Smokey’s barking brought his mission back into focus.
When he caught up with his partner, the dog was sitting. The signal that he’d found something. “Good boy.” Jackson tossed out the toy he carried on his belt for Smokey to play with, his reward for doing his job. The dog whipped the toy back and forth in his mouth.
“Drop,” Jackson said. He picked up the toy and patted Smokey on the head. “Sit. Stay.”
The body, partially covered by branches, was clothed in neutral colors and would not be easy to spot unless you were looking for it. Plus, it was getting dark. Another hour or so and someone wouldn’t see it unless they stumbled over it, which made Jackson wonder how the caller had known it was there.
He keyed his radio. “Officer Davison here. I’ve got a body in Prospect Park. Male Caucasian under the age of forty, about two hundred yards in, just southwest of the Brooklyn Botanic Garden.” He stepped closer to the body and shone his flashlight on it. “Looks like a bullet wound to the chest. We’re going to need a forensics team here.” It was too much to hope that someone had died of natural causes. Every death was hard for him.
Dispatch responded, “Ten-Four. Help is on the way.”
Jackson clicked off his radio. He studied the trees just in time to catch the face again, barely visible, like a fading mist. He was being watched. The person wore a hood that covered part of his or her face. “Did you see something?” Jackson shouted. “Did you call this in?”
The person turned and ran, disappearing into the thick brush.
Jackson took off in the direction the runner had gone. Radioing for backup would slow him down. As his feet pounded the hard earth, another thought occurred to him. Was this the person who had shot the man in the chest? Sometimes criminals hung around to witness the police response to their handiwork. The caller and the killer could be one in the same.
Pulling his weapon, he hurried in the direction the hooded figure had gone, knowing that Smokey would stay with the body.
He came out into an open area where a dozen or so people were having a barbecue and playing guitar and bongos. The revele
rs stopped their activity and stared at him: a normal reaction to seeing a cop with a gun. Jackson caught a flash of motion in his peripheral vision and resumed his pursuit. He could hear the watcher in the bushes up ahead though he did not catch a glimpse of him. He came out on a path that was mostly deserted. Several runners disappeared over a hill and then he was by himself.
Jackson tuned his ears to the sounds around him. The wind rustling the dried leaves on the trees, music and voices in the distance. He studied the trees in sectors, not seeing any movement. His attention was drawn to a garbage can just as an object hit the back of his head with intense force. He swayed and blinked. Pain radiated from the base of his skull. He heard metal tinging as something was thrown into the garbage can and then the pounding of retreating footsteps. He crumpled to the ground and his world went black.
Minutes or hours later, he didn’t know which, his eyes fluttered open and he winced at the bright light shining in his face.
“Hey, there,” said a singsongy female voice.
Jackson shaded his eyes. “Get that thing out of my face.”
The flashlight was clicked off. “Sorry, I was checking your pupils to see if they were dilated.”
He kind of liked the voice. It reminded him of the nonjudgmental woman who gave directions in his truck GPS. When he’d first moved to New York two years ago, from Texas, that voice had been a comfort as he’d tried to navigate a new city.
He looked up into her face with his eyes still half closed, fearing another dose of blinding light. Soft eyes, blond curls and dimples. Only the forensic suit and booties gave her away. She looked more like a kindergarten teacher than a tech. He’d seen Darcy Fields, the forensics specialist, at a distance when she came into K-9 headquarters or to work a crime scene, but he’d never talked to her.
She leaned back, resting on her knees. “You’re the officer who called in the body, right?”
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