Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set

by Addison Fox, Cindy Dees, Justine Davis

  As if they’d been brainwashed by Tate to do nothing but carry out his orders.

  For all her upset at how Tate had played her, there was a bigger part of Sadie that recognized those same lifeless eyes and automatous countenance could have been her if she’d ended up with Tate Greer. Much as it pained her to imagine it, the thought also gave her strength.

  And much needed purpose.

  The door swung open and Barney walked in. He barely glanced at her as he crossed the room to set a plate of food on a small table. Sadie could see the outer room beyond the door, and wasn’t sure if it was an accident that Barney had left the door open or a small offering from the universe, but decided worrying about it only wasted time.

  She had to move.

  So with speed born of desperate purpose, she did.

  * * *

  Tripp raced toward Sand Springs Lake, located on the outskirts of Grand Rapids. It was known around the state as a summer destination, with a variety of kids’ camps populating the perimeter as well as a canoeing outfit that had become quite a draw in recent years. Despite a swelling population when the weather warmed, the entire area remained fairly isolated in the winter.

  As each mile ticked past, Tripp vacillated between the satisfaction that he was right, and he’d get Sadie back, and the horror that if he was wrong he’d only add more time to the hours she’d been missing without discovery.

  Just like Lila.

  Tripp shook his head.

  It was nothing like Lila.

  Nothing at all like knowing someone he’d cared for had been gunned down in cold blood by someone with a vendetta. Not against the pregnant woman at the end of the bullet, but against the man she’d loved, cared for, and had chosen to spend her life with.

  Tripp scrubbed a hand over his face, the two-day-old beard scratching against the tips of his fingers.

  Focus. Don’t let the memories come. Don’t listen to the lies they weave beneath the truth you know.

  Wasn’t that what his therapist had told him? The professional he’d finally given in and gone to see at the urging of his chief, Andrew Fox. He’d given it an honest shot, despite his skepticism, but in the end, other than a few coping mechanisms for times of extreme stress, Tripp could hardly call the sessions time well spent.

  What could a therapist do, really? A criminal Tripp had put away, but whom the justice system had set free on a technicality, had gunned down his pregnant fiancée. Instead of coming after Tripp to settle the score, the bastard had found another way.

  One far more meaningful and destructive.

  Other than coping day to day through life, there wasn’t anything else to do.

  That was why he had to help Sadie. He’d made a promise to her family. Moreover, he’d made a promise to her and each and every member of the GRPD when he’d sworn he’d fight to protect them.

  And if there was that small matter of how he’d always noticed her, a small shot of attraction he refused to act on simmering just beneath the surface, well, he’d accept it. Use it, really, to keep himself focused.

  Because damn it, he was getting her back.

  His cell rang, penetrating the urgent thoughts. He hit the Bluetooth button on his steering wheel just as he made the last turn onto the two-lane road that led to Sand Springs Lake. “McKellar.”

  “Where the hell are you?” Detective Emmanuel Iglesias’s voice shot through the car’s speaker. “Michaela just told me you put out a call for backup.”

  Although playing a hunch, Tripp hadn’t been foolish enough to go in alone and had called Dispatch before leaving. But he had refused to wait around for anyone to join him. Every second was precious and Sadie didn’t have any to waste.

  “I did.”

  “Out to Sand Springs Lake? You think that’s where Sadie is?”

  Tripp had endless respect for the detective, but also knew he was on sensitive ground. With Emmanuel planning a wedding to Sadie’s sister Pippa, he wanted to give them hope without overpromising.

  Even if he felt this hunch clear down to his marrow.

  “It’s a hunch, but it’s a good one. I triangulated all of Capital X’s victim drops over the past five years. And there’s a lot to be said for an isolated lake in winter.”

  “Damn it.” Emmanuel swore again, harsher this time. “She’s been under our damn nose for two days?”

  “That’s what I’m betting on.” Tripp slowed and cut his lights. He’d get out and walk if he thought it would help, but the area around the lake was big enough he’d waste precious time on foot versus risking the possibility of someone seeing or hearing a random car.

  “Listen. I need you to work with Michaela on the coordination with the team. She’s working on it but we need more cops on the perimeter if these jerks cut and run.”

  “There are three entrances to the lake area.”

  “Then let’s get going and put teams on all three.”

  Tripp cut the call, his sole focus on what was visible through his front window.

  The hollow husk of a summer camp came up on his left. The main building came first; a long, nondescript structure silhouetted by the moon. Small cabins were also discernible in the distance beyond the main outbuilding. Although the location was private, Tripp ruled it out for now. Based on Capital X’s former crimes, he figured they’d need a private place of their own to shake down their victims. Squatting in an existing structure—even in the off-season—would risk unwanted attention.

  He rolled down his window as he drove on, the dirt path going a long way toward muffling his approach. Despite the temperature, he wanted a shot at hearing anything that might carry on the cold night air. The path took him on a curving route around the perimeter of the lake and he passed the turnoff for one of the entrances Emmanuel had mentioned. GRPD didn’t have men in place yet, but he had confidence in Iglesias that they’d be there.

  For now, all Tripp could do was focus on Sadie.

  Unbidden, a memory of coming upon her one evening came to mind. He’d run down to CSI himself to check on some ballistics results he needed and she’d been dancing around the room, oblivious to anyone else. He’d been captivated, happiness seeming to flow from her as she bopped along to whatever noise filled her earbuds.

  He’d backed away, wanting her to have her privacy instead of possible embarrassment at being discovered by the boss, but the memory had stuck with him.

  And the feeling of standing, for the briefest moment, in all that bright, vivid sunlight.

  Willing that she’d find that happiness again, Tripp pressed on, the leafless trees allowing him to navigate easily with only the moon. A blast of frigid December air blew through the window but he ignored it. Chill was a small price to pay if it got him to Sadie.

  It was only as he navigated another bend in the road that he heard it.

  The unmistakable sound of a gunshot ricocheting through the clear night air.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sadie screamed as she caught sight of Tate, standing over Fred’s body. The grisly scene had her stomach leaping into her throat and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks for her crime scene training. It couldn’t erase the fact that her ex-fiancé was standing over the body of a man he’d just killed, but it did go a long way toward helping her keep a steady head.

  A fact that nearly vanished when Tate swung the gun toward her. “Going somewhere?”

  “You surprised?”

  She had the slightest moment of triumph as she saw genuine shock cross his face before it winked out. Just like any bit of decency or goodness he might have once possessed.

  With the shock gone, it left room for that cold sneer she resented with everything she was. “When did you grow a spine?”

  How had she missed this?

  And in what world was there a human who thought Sadie Colton lacked a spine? Yet even as the thought
flashed in her mind, she had an answer ready to rise up and meet it.

  She’d done that. She’d been so enamored of finally having her “true love” that she’d sublimated everything about herself for him.

  It was such a useless, circular path, yet she found she couldn’t stop treading over it again and again. How had she been so incredibly blind to who this man was?

  A liar. A cheat. And now confirming what she’d already suspected, a killer.

  “I’ve had one. You’ve just been too busy crushing me beneath your boot that you never took the time to look.”

  Tate’s sneer—and the slow, lascivious slide of his gaze down her body and right back up—had her skin prickling in disgust. “I looked plenty, baby. And I never heard you complaining.”

  “Why did you kill him?”

  That sneer turned even darker, twisting the face she’d once found bad-boy handsome into something downright devilish. “He’s useless. And he let himself be followed here. I just got word disp—” he broke off, saying no more. Only Sadie didn’t need more.

  “We’re not exactly hard to find. You think you’re the only person who knows about Sand Springs Lake?” Her gamble was rewarded with Tate’s near growl as he stared down at Fred.

  “The bastard give you that information, too?”

  “I figured it out all on my own. You didn’t take me that far. Where else is this secluded this time of year? And who’s working inside the GRPD for you?”

  For the second time in a space of minutes, Tate’s gaze flashed with that mix of surprise and something just a tad bit more. She wouldn’t go as far as to say respect—he clearly wasn’t capable of feeling that for anyone—but there was something there.

  And Sadie took heart that maybe Tate might have the slightest indication he’d underestimated her.

  Well aware she had little to lose, Sadie kept on pushing. “How do you manage to find people to work with you if you go around shooting them for telling you the truth?”

  “I shot him for incompetence. The truth was just an inconvenience.” That subtle sense he saw something new in her seemed to hover between them once more before he added, “And with the right tech, baby, you don’t need to find squealers anymore.”

  Sadie eyed the gun still leveled at her chest, even as she filed away that tidbit for the GRPD. “Would you mind putting that down?”

  “I very much mind.”

  Any shred of smug satisfaction she might have felt evaporated, faced with the very real knowledge Tate cared as little for her as he had for Fred. Up to now, she’d believed she was an asset to him, but she might have been overestimating the degree to which their former relationship might influence his decision to keep her alive.

  “It dawns on me that you’re uniquely positioned to help me out, despite Fred’s incompetence,” he said.

  That gun never moved, nor did Tate’s gaze.

  “And how would I do that?”

  “What does the GRPD know about Capital X? And—” Tate leaned in closer “—what does your brother know?”

  She knew he meant Riley and his role running Colton Investigations. Riley had earned a place of respect from the GRPD, his willingness to work with them and support their efforts going a long way toward fostering a good working relationship between the two.

  Because she’d let him into her life, Tate knew that, too.

  And the fact that he was asking meant his “all seeing” tech wasn’t quite as mighty as he’d want it to be.

  An aggressive bark from another part of the house drew her attention and was enough to remove Tate’s scrutiny. He swore before moving toward the other room in the direction of the dog. “I’ll be right back.”

  Although her instinct was to stay as far away from the gun and that ominous sound as possible, after two days, Sadie still didn’t have a good sense of the house. The chance to learn a bit more of the layout wasn’t something she could pass up.

  Besides, she’d prefer to avoid staying anywhere near Fred’s body.

  So she followed Tate, not caring if it pissed him off. She needed as much information as she could get and sitting around like a wilting flower was not that way.

  Tate had moved into a larger combined kitchen and living area, his attention momentarily focused on the dog. The German shepherd was gorgeous but dangerous-looking. A reality that only heightened when the dog caught sight of her, his ears perking as his lips quivered with clear threat.

  Sadie was so shocked to see the dog holding still at Tate’s command, the words were out before she could stop them. “Since when do you have a pet?”

  Tate kept the dog in place, but shifted his attention to her. “One more thing you don’t know about me because you weren’t meant to know. But Snake and I go back a long way.”

  “You named your dog Snake?”

  Tate’s flat expression wasn’t amused. “What does the GRPD know about Capital X?”

  Sadie considered how to play this. While she wasn’t proud of her time with Tate, she had learned how to handle him. She could only hope that she knew enough tactics to buy herself a bit more time.

  “You’ve been tracking them for months, securing intel off your informants. You likely know more than they do.”

  He hesitated for the briefest moment and Sadie sensed her compliment had hit the mark. Tate wasn’t going to back off, but the subtle distraction was a help.

  Every moment counted.

  And she made the most of this one. Through the kitchen, visible beyond the dog, was a door. The heavy wood had a glass-paneled top half. She could see no bars or trappings through the panes to suggest it was further blocked by an outer door.

  That door had to be her goal.

  “I want to know what you know.” Tate had dropped the gun during the interaction with the dog but he quickly lifted it again. “Now!”

  “I don’t know anything.”

  The gun never wavered as Tate moved closer. “You were never straight with me. Always hiding behind your family and their connections and the big bad badges at the GRPD.”

  “I wasn’t the one who spent our entire relationship lying.”

  “Oh no?”

  His audacity—the fact that he could stand there and suggest she hadn’t been honest with him—was a joke. “You got with me for no other reason than to ferret out information you could use for your criminal activities. I never meant anything to you.”

  “Not like you ever gave me anything. You and your brothers and sisters are so tight. Colton Investigations.” He nearly spat the name. “You’re thick as thieves, only you’re all so damn pure you’d never put a hand on a piece of anyone’s gold.”

  “While I’d hardly apologize for that to anyone, I’m sure as hell not going to apologize to you.”

  Sadie had no idea where it was coming from—especially with that gun still in dangerous range—but she simply couldn’t stand there and take it any longer. Maybe a month in a safe house, with nothing to do but ponder all the ways she’d lost part of herself to Tate Greer, was finally finding its due.

  And maybe she might even get a few of those pieces she’d given away back.

  “What the hell do you know, Sadie!” The harsh shout spilled out of Tate like a violent waterfall. The dog never moved, but she sensed the tense set of his body—ready to leap at the slightest signal—even as Tate stepped closer.

  Sadie knew she should keep her gaze on the gun but she was unable to look away from the veneer of sheer hate that covered Tate’s face. The dog whined beside him, a small growl that affirmed all she suspected about the animal’s training. And still, that gun remained leveled at the center of her chest.

  A hard slam echoed through the house along with a rush of winter air as the door in the kitchen flew open. Despite the gun, her gaze shifted to the door and the possibility of a new threat, only to find Barney stomping
into the kitchen.

  “Cops found us.”

  Tate swung around to face his other goon as Sadie saw another man tromp into the kitchen. He was as big as Fred had been, with hulking shoulders and a lethal-looking semiautomatic hanging from one meaty hand. Although Sadie had minimal exposure to the black market weapons trade in Michigan, she’d reviewed enough crime scenes and studied enough wounds to know what that type of weapon did to the human body.

  An involuntary shiver skated down her spine as she weighed what she had to do.

  Tate was shouting at Barney over the announcement there were cops, and the new henchman was adding his perspective, suggesting how to handle the threat. All three men were right there—along with their weapons—but so was the open door.

  While she knew it was a suicide mission to try to run, it was still a better option than staying put.

  With one final glance at the door, Sadie focused on the dog. He’d stayed in the position Tate had put him in, his training so absolute he hadn’t moved. Sadie hoped that rigid training would be enough to give her the head start she needed.

  Without giving herself one more moment to think, she bolted, her unerring focus on the door and the freedom just beyond.

  * * *

  Tripp held his position, the small copse of trees about fifty yards from the house his hiding place. The crystalline air had aided his listening in on the argument being waged inside the house, while also giving him time to assess their firepower and position.

  He knew Sadie was in there.

  He might not be able to see her, but he knew she was there. He’d heard her, her sweet voice floating through that cold night air. She’d been kidnapped and locked away by a madman, but what he’d been able to make out had held steady and solid. Tripp fought that sense of helplessness—the one that kept threatening to drag him under like a massive wave at the beach, complete with deadly undertow—and kept his attention on the house. This wasn’t the same as losing Lila, he reminded himself over and over.

  It. Wasn’t. The. Same.

  Instead, he needed to find a way in. But based on the two goons he’d already seen enter, he knew he was outnumbered.