Secrets She Kept

by Debra Webb

  He’d do the rest.

  Without another thought clouding his brain or instinct, Hunter dropped the phone and replaced it with his weapon. In one movement, he cranked on the engine and stomped on the accelerator.

  The van roared to life and barreled toward the barn door. As it crashed through and splintered the wood, he got a glimpse of Dani’s face, eyes and mouth wide open. Jeffrey had rolled up onto the hood.

  Hunter didn’t relent, as he kept his foot firmly on the gas pedal. He heard a scream. A thud. A crunch.

  He didn’t hear any gunshots.

  When the van reached the other side of the barn, Hunter bolted from the driver’s seat. A twinge of fear brushed across the back of his neck when he didn’t see Sue or Drake across the room where they’d been when he started his assault, but he had to neutralize the enemy first.

  He kicked aside the debris and wreckage in the barn and stumbled upon Jeffrey, his crumpled body thrown up against some heavy machinery, his head at an odd angle. Hunter felt for a pulse—there was none.

  As he turned from Jeffrey’s dead body, he almost tripped over Dani’s legs protruding from beneath the van’s wheels. He crouched down, his gaze meeting her lifeless eyes, still wide-open. He growled, “And that’s for my son.”

  “Hunter? Is it safe?”

  Sue’s voice calling out to him sent a rush of warm relief through his body, and for the first time that night, his rigid muscles lost a little of their tension.

  He lurched to his feet and spotted her across the room, standing on a tractor, Drake clutched to her chest.

  “It’s safe. They’re both dead.”

  They started toward each other at the same time, and for the first time, Hunter wrapped his arms around his son, safe in his mother’s arms.

  Epilogue

  Ned dangled Sue’s badge in front of her. “You’re not out of the woods yet, Sue. Hunter took out several of Walid’s cell here in DC, but we don’t know how many are left and if they’re going to be out for revenge.”

  As Sue hung her badge around her neck, she glanced at Hunter. “And we still don’t know who the mole is—but we can all agree there is one.”

  Ned ran his finger along the seam of his lips. “The intel stays in this room...and with The Falcon’s replacement.”

  “Who is?”

  Hunter touched her hand. “I guess you’ll never find out. You’re off undercover duty.”

  “Your choice, right, Sue?” Ned raised his brows at her.

  “Absolutely. I have a son to raise. Even my father’s good with that.”

  “We’ve got plenty of analysis duty for you right here at home, but we’re extending your leave for a little bit longer.” He held up his hands. “For safety reasons only.”

  “That’s fine. I need a break, and I know exactly where I’m going to take it.”

  Hunter extended his hand to Ned. “Thanks for guiding Sue through the process of coming out from under her undercover assignment.”

  “Once we got The Falcon’s notes, it was easy.” Ned crossed his arms. “Do you think you can get Major Denver to come in now?”

  “I doubt it. He wants assurances before he surrenders, and the army is not ready to offer him those assurances yet.”

  “The Falcon made it clear that Denver’s investigation was dovetailing with hers.”

  “Until the mole can be ID’d, I think Denver will remain in hiding.”

  Sue hitched her bag over her shoulder. “We’d better get going. Our son is with Peter right now and probably has him climbing the walls.”

  Sue and Hunter collected their son from her coworker and exited the building, with Drake cuddled into Hunter’s arms. After Hunter had saved them from the scary barn with the scary people, Drake had been clinging to his father as if he’d known him all his life.

  They drove back to her place and Sue hesitated on the threshold. Her space, her life had been violated and the terrorists she’d been tracking for over three years were still out there...and Hunter had another deployment around the corner.

  Hunter returned from his brief survey of her condo and nodded. “All clear.”

  Sue put Drake down and tousled his hair. “I think we should order pizza—one cheese and one with everything on it.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Hunter patted his stomach.

  Drake scampered to the packed suitcases in the corner of the room and tackled one. “Mama going?”

  Sue’s eyes stung and she sniffled through her smile. “You’re coming with me this time, cupcake. I already told your aunt and cousins, and maybe they can visit us. We’re going to Hunter’s home in Colorado. He even has horses.”

  Drake skipped to Hunter and threw himself at his legs. “Horses.”

  Hunter scooped him up in his arms and flew him around the room a few times before settling on the sofa with him in his lap. Hunter touched his nose to Drake’s. “You’d like a daddy, wouldn’t you, Drake?”

  Drake nodded and grabbed the buttons on Hunter’s shirt. “Daddy.”

  Sue put a hand over her heart. It was as if he already knew.

  “Well, I am your daddy. Is that okay? You can call me Daddy instead of Hunter. All right?”

  Drake snuggled farther into Hunter’s arms, burrowing against his chest. Still hanging on to the shirt button, he said, “Daddy.”

  “I guess that’s settled.” Hunter rested his chin on top of Drake’s dark hair, a look of serene satisfaction softening the hard line of his jaw.

  “And after Colorado? After your deployment?”

  “I’m still gonna be Drake’s dad...and your man, if you’ll have me.”

  Sue meandered to the sofa where her two guys, her two heartbeats, cuddled together. She sank down next to Hunter and rested her head on his shoulder.

  “If I’ll have you? My concern is the other way around. I abandoned you. Lied to you. Kept your son from you and lied again.”

  “And I still love you. What does that say about me?” He pressed his lips against Drake’s temple.

  “That you’re loyal and forgiving and a little bit crazy.” She rubbed her knuckles against his chin. “You did crash headlong into a barn.”

  Dragging his fingers through her hair, he said, “My life was in that barn. My family. And I’m not gonna give up on my family—not now, not ever.”

  And just like that, Sue had her job, her man and her son back in her life.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Fugitive by Nichole Severn.

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  The Fugitive

  by Nichole Severn

  Chapter One

  Raleigh Wilde.

  Hell, it’d been a while since deputy United States marshal Beckett Foster had set sights on her, and every cell in his body responded in awareness. Four months, one week and four days, to be exact. Those soul-searching light green eyes, her soft brown hair and sharp cheekbones. But all that beauty didn’t take away from the sawed-off shotgun currently pointed at his chest. His hand hovered just above his firearm as the Mothers Come First foundation’s former chief financial officer—now fugitive—widened her stance.

  “Don’t you know breaking into someone’s home is illegal, Marshal?” That voice. A man could get lost in a voice like that. Sweet and rough all in the same package. Raleigh smoothed her fingers over the gun in her hand. It hadn’t taken her but a few seconds after she’d come through the door to realize he’d been waiting for her at the other end of the wide room.

  It hadn’t taken him but a couple of hours to figure out where she’d been hidin
g for the past four months once her file crossed his desk. What she didn’t know was how long he’d been waiting, and that he’d already relieved that gun of its rounds, as well as any other weapons he’d found during his search of her aunt’s cabin.

  “Come on now. You and I both know you haven’t forgotten my name that easily.” He studied her from head to toe, memorizing the fit of her oversize plaid flannel shirt, the slight loss of color in her face and the dark circles under her eyes. Yeah, living on the run did that to a person. Beckett unbuttoned his holster. He wouldn’t pull. Of all the criminals the United States Marshals Service had assigned him to recover over the years, she was the only one he’d hesitated chasing down. Then again, if he hadn’t accepted the assignment, another marshal would have. And there was no way Beckett would let anyone else bring her in.

  Beckett ran his free hand along the exposed brick of the fireplace. “Gotta be honest, didn’t think you’d ever come back here. Lot of memories tied up in this place.”

  “What do you want, Beckett?” The creases around her eyes deepened as she shifted her weight between both feet. She crouched slightly, searching through the single window facing East Lake, then refocused on him.

  Looking for a way out? Or to see if he’d come with backup? Dried grass, changing leaves, mountains and an empty dock were all that were out there. The cabin she’d been raised in as a kid sat on the west side of the lake, away from tourists, away from the main road. Even if he gave her a head start, she wouldn’t get far. There was nowhere for her to run. Not from him.

  “You know that, too.” He took a single step forward, the aged wood floor protesting under his weight as he closed in on her. “You skipped out on your trial, and I’m here to bring you in.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” Countering his approach, she moved backward toward the front door she’d dead-bolted right after coming inside but kept the gun aimed at him. Her boot hit the go bag she stored on the kitchen counter beside the door. “I didn’t steal that money. Someone at the charity did and faked the evidence so I’d take the fall.”

  “That’s the best you got? A frame job?” Fifty and a half million dollars. Gone. The only one with continuous access to the funds stood right in front of him. Not to mention the brand-new offshore bank account, the thousands of wire transfers to that account in increments small enough they wouldn’t register for the feds, and Raleigh’s signatures on every single one of them. “You had a choice, Raleigh. You just chose wrong.”

  “Beckett...” She slowed her escape. Her fingers flitted over the gun as her expression softened. “You know me. You know I didn’t do this. Find Calvin Dailey, the foundation’s CEO. I told him everything when I discovered the funds were being sent offshore. I’ve been trying to contact him for weeks. He must’ve gone into hiding when the news about my arrest hit the media, but he can clear my name.”

  “I’m afraid Calvin Dailey can’t help you right now. Seems your boss left his house without about a half a gallon of his own blood. Local police haven’t found the body yet, but I don’t think that’s a coincidence, considering you just revealed he’s the only other person you told about the missing money.” He locked his jaw against the fire burning through his veins, the easygoing marshal gone. Beckett lowered his hand from above his holster and took another step. “You think you know a person. Then one day you wake up and see them on the morning news getting arrested for embezzlement.”

  “Calvin’s...dead?” Shock dropped her bottom lip. Real dangerous. Either Raleigh Wilde was one hell of an actress, or she honestly hadn’t known her former colleague had most likely been murdered. Shock bled to resolution and wiped the confusion from her gaze. She secured the butt of the rifle against her shoulder. Just as he’d taught her. “I didn’t kill him, and I didn’t embezzle that money. I’m not going to prison. I can’t. Not now.”

  There was the woman he’d let into his life, the one with vengeance in her eyes and her middle fingers raised high. The one who’d stood up to the mugger who’d tried stealing her purse on a Portland street until it’d gotten to the point Beckett had to intervene before she punctured one of the bastard’s lungs with her high heel. The one who’d thanked him for his help by intertwining her fingers with his and showing him what real desire looked like. He’d never forget that woman. Too bad she’d never existed in the first place. Instead, he’d gotten involved with a criminal, but she wasn’t going to manipulate him again. “That’s up to the judge, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call me that.” The words left her mouth between gritted teeth. “You lost the right to call me ‘sweetheart’ when you disappeared after my arrest.”

  “And here I was thinking you’re the one who broke us up.” He pulled a set of cuffs from the back of his holster, shards of reflected sunlight bouncing across her face. “I’m bringing you in.”

  “I’ll give you one chance to walk away, Beckett.” She racked the shotgun, her expression softening slightly. “Please. For both our sakes, don’t make me pull this trigger. Turn around and pretend you never found me. It’s better for everyone if I stay lost.”

  “You’re going to shoot me now, is that it?” It was possible. Honestly, how well did he really know her? They’d been together six months before she’d gotten arrested. Sure, she’d let her past slip out every once in a while, but, it turned out, nearly everything he’d known about her had been a lie. The deeper he’d dug into her life, the more he’d realized how stupid he’d been to trust her. People didn’t change. Once a criminal, always a criminal.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to survive.” The shadows across her throat shifted as she licked her lips and swallowed. “This isn’t just about me anymore.”

  Beckett stuck his hand in his jeans pocket and pulled out the rounds he’d taken from the gun. Pinching one between his thumb and index finger, he held it up for her to see. “How are you going to shoot me if the gun is empty, Raleigh?”

  She faltered, her green gaze lowering to the weapon.

  Beckett dropped the cuffs and the rounds and lunged. Ripping the rifle from her grip with one hand, he unholstered his own weapon and aimed with the other. In less than two breaths, he had his fugitive. The shotgun hit the floor, jarring her instantly. Nice to see there were still some things that could get through that carefully monitored exterior. “Now I can guarantee you this gun is loaded.” He motioned her to the left with the barrel of his service weapon. “Cuffs. Now.”

  “You’re making a mistake. If Calvin was killed as you said, whoever stole that money is cleaning up loose ends. He’s the only one I told about the missing money. Who do you think they’ll come after next?” Raleigh crouched, picked up the handcuffs and secured one over her wrist. The cords between her shoulders and neck flexed tight as she moved. She straightened, facing him, her light vanilla scent making its way deep into his lungs. “You take me in, you’ll only make it easier for his killer to find me.”

  He ensured the cuffs were tight enough she couldn’t squirm loose, his fingers brushing the inside of her wrist. An electric jolt shot up his arm in response. Hell. He’d forgotten what it was like to touch her, how his body had always craved hers. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest, his lungs pressurizing with the air stuck in his throat. Six months. That’d been all the time he’d needed to fall for her, she’d been that addictive. He’d run to help when some purse snatcher had tried to take off with her bag, but, in reality, she’d been the one to save him that day. She’d changed...everything, given him hope he didn’t have to spend the rest of his life alone. Until he’d learned who she really was. Learned it’d all been one long con.

  The cuffs ratcheted into place, the clicks loud in his ears as he secured her hands in front, and reality bled into focus. Justice. Integrity. Service. He’d sworn to uphold the law when he’d become a marshal, and the woman in front of him wouldn’t change that. No matter how strong her gravitational pull. Or how clever her l
ies. “No, Raleigh. The mistake was trusting you from the beginning.”

  “I’m not going back.” She stared out the window over his shoulder, almost lost, green eyes ethereal. Seconds ticked by. Then, in an instant, her gaze snapped back to his, and his instincts screamed in warning. Raleigh wrenched away from him, then kicked him square in the gut. “Not until I clear my name.”

  His head hit the old wood mantel above the fireplace—hard—and he went down. The cabin blurred in his vision as he struggled to his feet; the only illumination came from a beam of sunlight through the now open front door. It was enough to give him direction. The go bag from the kitchen counter was gone. He pressed his free hand to the back of his head, then glanced at his fingers. Blood. Pain spread fast through his skull. Damn, that woman had powerful legs. Beckett charged out the door, gun up, finger on the trigger. He blinked against the brightness glinting off the lake and shook his head to clear the soft ringing in his ears. “Raleigh!”

  Movement registered along the lake’s shore about fifty feet to his left. Cuffed, she sprinted toward a thick line of trees behind the cabin, all that soft brown hair trailing behind her.

  Beckett pumped his legs hard. The sun had already started hugging the mountains. If she evaded him long enough, there was a chance she’d disappear forever. That wasn’t an option. Raleigh vanished into the tree line ahead of him. Loose rocks and fallen branches threatened to trip him up, but he only pushed himself harder.

  His heart thundered behind his ears as shadows enveloped the small dirt trail ahead. Too many damn places for an ambush. He slowed, sweat beading in his hairline, and forced the adrenaline pumping through his veins to cool. His training kicked in, instincts on high alert. Raleigh might be a criminal, but she wasn’t a trained law-enforcement officer. Any family she’d ever had had turned their backs on her a long time ago, and her friends had been advised to keep their distance by counsel. She couldn’t hide from him. At least, not for long.