Moving Target - Softcover

McCray, Cheyenne

 
9780312937645: Moving Target

Inhaltsangabe

Two years after the Russian mafia had brutally murdered her entire family, Ani King is in hiding, protected by the Witness Security Program, but when her cover is blown, only Deputy Marshal Daniel Parker stands between her and certain death, as she prepares to testify in a trial that would be devastating to her enemies. Original.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Cheyenne McCray writes the Night Tracker novels and the Armed and Dangerous series, among others. She grew up on a ranch in southeastern Arizona. She has been writing ever since she can remember, back to her kindergarten days when she penned her first poem. She always knew one day she would write novels—she wanted to create worlds that readers would get lost in, just as she had always gotten lost in her favorite books. “Growing up I read, read, and read,” she says, “and grew up to write, write, write.” She has three sons and two dogs. A true Arizona native, she loves the desert and all of the sunshine and beautiful sunsets that go along with it.

Von der hinteren Coverseite

In Cheyenne McCray s second breathtaking novel of romantic suspense, the threat of danger is all too real and so is an irresistible passion

COMING OUT OF THE DARK

Ani King left her entire life behind when the Russian mafia brutally murdered her family. The Witness Security Program has kept her safe for two years, but with one simple phone call her cover is destroyed and there is only one man left who can save her.

AND IN FOR THE KILL

Protecting the brave, beautiful Ani became more than just a job a long time ago for Deputy Marshal Daniel Parker. And now, just days before the trial where she s slated to give a damning testimony, the criminals who want her dead are on her trail. To keep Ani safe, Daniel has to keep her close and her enemies closer. Because soon there s nowhere for Ani to hide but in his arms.

MOVING TARGET

Suspenseful, edgy, and red-hot sexy. Cherry Adair, New York Times bestselling author

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Excerpt

Who wouldn’t go out on a limb to help a child who was fighting for his life?

“Can you please help us, Ms. King?”

Ani’s gaze shifted from the desperate man and woman to the almost perfectly intact fourteen-centimeter-high bronze and gold statue of Tyrion III. With reverence she held the piece that came from the tiny country of Masia. She studied the art as early morning sunshine poured into the antique shop’s fifteen-foot-high windows, highlighting the statue’s delicate gold inlays.

If she wasn’t mistaken—and she was pretty sure she wasn’t—the statue was from the twenty-second dynasty, circa 900 b.c. She’d seen only one other like it, and it was in the Brooklyn Museum in New York.

Formerly an art curator for a major metropolitan museum in New York City, Ani now ran a dinky antique shop in Bisbee, Arizona. The Witness Security Program wouldn’t allow her to be in the same field as she’d been in before, but at least the U.S. Marshals had put her into an environment she could relate to. Even if most of the “antiques” in the place were junk.

But this . . . this was a priceless treasure.

A lead weight settled in her belly. It was likely also a very illegal treasure. It was against the law for any artifact to be taken out of the country where it had been excavated unless bequeathed to a museum.

Ani looked to the husband and wife who had brought her the artifact to ascertain its value. It was early morning and the Harrisons had been waiting for the shop to open to talk with her. They wanted to see if they could sell the statue to help pay medical bills for their son, a burn victim, and get him to a top-notch center that could treat burns of such magnitude. The mere thought of what the child was going through made her own twisted scars itch from the small of her back to her shoulder blades.

Ani barely kept her hands steady as she settled the small statue into the intricately carved ebony box Mr. and Mrs. Harrison had brought it in. The velvet-lined box itself looked to be of some value. It smelled of aged wood and dust, but was in beautiful condition.

“Where did you get this artifact?” Ani asked the couple, wondering how something so priceless and illegal had ended up in Bisbee.

“My older brother just arrived from Montana.” Mr. Harrison shuffled his feet and glanced down before looking back up at Ani. “He gave it to us to see if we can sell it to help our child.” The hollow-cheeked, emaciated Mr. Harrison fidgeted, then stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. “Our great-grandfather was an archeologist.” His voice was scratchy as he spoke. “This statue was passed down through our family. His other findings went to museums and Masia.”

Ani studied him, her heart breaking apart for the family. “I can’t do anything with this piece. It’s illegal to possess an artifact from Masia unless it has been donated to a museum.”

Mr. Harrison cleared his throat. “In a secret drawer at the bottom of the box is a letter from Masia’s King Aronan awarding the statue to my great-grandfather. It was a gift of appreciation for discovering the tomb of Tyrion III.”

Ani raised an eyebrow. Mr. Harrison stepped forward and showed her an almost invisible indentation in the wood at the bottom of the box. She pushed the catch, and a drawer slowly opened.

Nestled inside more velvet lay a yellowed parchment. She withdrew it and carefully unfolded the parchment, which felt rough and brittle between her fingers. She scanned the page and her belly did a little flip. A letter from King Aronan himself awarding the priceless treasure to James Harrison for the exact reason the younger Mr. Harrison had said. It was stamped with a red wax seal and the letter looked as authentic as the statue. The letter by itself would be worth a fortune.

Ani looked up from the paper and met Mr. Harrison’s pleading gaze. She tried to keep her voice from wavering with excitement. “I know a collector who might be interested in purchasing this artifact. If you’ll give me two weeks, I’ll see what I can do.” In two weeks she’d be done with her testimony, the trial would be behind her and she’d feel safer contacting someone from her former life.

“We don’t have that much time.” Mr. Harrison interrupted her thoughts as he looked from his wife to Ani. “We only have enough money left to pay for a few more nights at the motel we’ve been staying in since our home burned to the ground.”

“Do you think that statue will bring enough to pay Jamie’s medical bills?” Mrs. Harrison asked, her brown eyes bright with unshed tears.

Now? Could I do it now? The trial’s already started—it’s as good as over in a few days. Why couldn’t I help this poor boy? Isn’t it the right thing to do?

Heart aching even more for the family, Ani said, “I can’t promise anything, and the statue and letter will have to be authenticated. But I think this may be of some value.”

More than you can imagine.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrison looked at one another then back to Ani. “Please find out as soon as you can,” Mr. Harrison said.

Ani had been in the Witness Security Program for almost two years—two quiet, uneventful years. She had the contacts from her past life to help these people, and her gut told her she should. Definitely the right thing.

“I’ll do my best.” Ani slipped the parchment into the drawer and shut it, then put the lid back on the wood box and extended it to them.

“No.” Mr. Harrison waved it off with a pained expression. “You’ll need the statue to make this happen for our boy, Ms. Carter.” She could see in his eyes how strong his love was for his son. The treasure meant nothing compared to Jamie’s welfare.

Ani offered him a smile even though her soul was wrenched in two for the little boy. “Let me get you a receipt.” She set the box on the counter. “And call me Ani, please.” She’d been Ani Carter for two years, and the name rolled easily off her tongue. But she still couldn’t think of herself as anyone but Anistana King.

Even though they usually recommended keeping the same first name, the U.S. Marshals couldn’t allow her to use hers, Anistana, because it was too unusual. But they did allow her to use an abbreviation of it.

Once the Harrisons were gone, Ani braced her hands on the glass countertop and stared at the ebony box. It had gold inlay within the carvings. Likely it was as old as the letter, over a century.

Priceless.

A fortune.

All that little boy would need to cover his treatment, but . . . did she really dare call George Hanover?

“I have to,” she said aloud. “I can’t live with myself if I don’t.”

Two years was a long time for her to be off the radar, but Hanover was a good guy. He wasn’t part of the Russian Mafia—and it wasn’t likely the Mob had contacted her old clients. It had been so long, and the Mob probably didn’t know about Hanover anyway. George would buy the piece, and if she asked him to, he’d keep his mouth shut. She’d be careful. She’d go about this the right way, and she’d be able to help Jamie Harrison before she went to New York City to...

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ISBN 10:  0739491733 ISBN 13:  9780739491737
Hardcover