Yuletide Protector (The Precinct: Task Force, 6, Band 1462) - Softcover

Buch 21 von 23: The Precinct:Vice Squad

Miller, Julie

 
9780373697298: Yuletide Protector (The Precinct: Task Force, 6, Band 1462)

Inhaltsangabe

HIS STAR WITNESS RECEIVES THREATS INSTEAD OF CHRISTMAS CARDS IN USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR JULIE MILLER'S MINISERIES THE PRECINCT: TASK FORCE 

As the lone surviving victim who can put her attacker away in prison, heiress Bailey Austin becomes the key to the D.A.'s case against a notorious criminal. As lead detective, Spencer Montgomery must prep her for trial. But he becomes her personal protector when she starts receiving terrifying "gifts" meant to scare her away from testifying. 

Spencer is a cop on the fast track to making captain one day, if he can keep his emotions in check. But as the stalker's threats escalate, he can't deny that Bailey has thawed his icy heart. Her courage touches him in ways no other woman has, and reminds him that she's more important to him than any investigation.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

USA TODAY bestselling author Julie Miller writes breathtaking romantic suspense. She has sold millions of copies of her books worldwide, and has earned a National Readers Choice Award, two Daphne du Maurier prizes and an RT BookReviews Career Achievement Award. For a complete list of her books and more, go to www.juliemiller.org.

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December

"That's him. I recognize his voice. The build's right and the eyes are the same. He's the man who raped me."

Bailey Austin braced her hand against the chilly window that separated her from the suspect and decoys lined up in the adjoining room at KCPD's Fourth Precinct headquarters and closed her eyes. They all wore black clothes and surgical masks over the lower half of their faces. But she didn't need a visual to relive the sounds and smells and every violent, humiliating touch that had changed her life more than a year ago.

"Shut up!" A fist smashed across her cheekbone when she'd dared to beg him to stop. Pain pulsed through her fractured skull, swirling her plastic-covered surroundings into a dizzying vertigo that made her nauseous. Her stomach was already churning from the stingingly bitter smell of vinegar and soap on the washcloth he was bathing her with. As if he could simply wash away the pain and shock and violation of what he had done to her. Bound and battered, helpless to struggle against him, she tried to blank her mind against the unspeakable things he was doing to her. "I'm the one in charge here, you filthy thing," he needlessly reminded her.

Dark eyes swam in and out of focus from the grotesque black-and-white mask he wore. "Please…"

"Close your eyes and that mouth, or I'll put the hood on you again." She squeezed her eyes shut, dutifully doing what she could to save herself more punishment. "Do exactly what I tell you," he warned her, scrubbing away any evidentiary trace of himself or the crime scene from her body, "and maybe I'll let you live."

Bailey had been one of the lucky ones. She'd survived.

But she hadn't been able to erase the memory that night, and she couldn't now. Even with a simple recitation from a Kansas City travel brochure, she recognized his voice—so bitter and devoid of caring. "That's him," she repeated, opening her eyes to see a uniformed officer stop and cuff the black-haired man she'd identified. When he peeled off his mask, she recognized his face from the business and society pages of the Kansas City papers. "Brian Elliott is the man who… He's the Rose Red Rapist."

District Attorney Dwight Powers stood beside her at the one-way window. "You'll testify to that in court? You'll point him out to the jury?"

She swallowed the emotions that rose in her throat. Despite all logic that told her she was invisible to him here in the look-at room, Bailey hugged her orange wool coat tighter in her arms and backed away from the glass when her attacker turned and looked in her direction. She nodded, transfixed by the cruel eyes, warm with color and yet so cold. There was something wrong with that man, something sick or disconnected inside his head. A brilliantly successful businessman, charming on the surface, yet twisted, damaged, inside. And he'd taken all that rage, all that self-loathing out on her. As if she'd been the cause of his pain. Even through the glass she felt his hatred aimed squarely at her.

She could feel his hands on her all over again, her arms pinned above her head, his body on top of hers, and she shuddered.

"This is a dubious identification at best, Powers, and you know it." Shaking off the nightmare crawling over her skin, Bailey turned away from the glass as Kenna Parker, Brian Elliott's articulate defense attorney, started earning her expensive fee. The taller woman clutched her leather attache in her fist and looked down with sympathy. "I'm sorry for what you've gone through, Miss Austin. But if the district attorney here puts you on the stand, I can promise you that my cross-examination won't be pleasant. If you're certain my client is your attacker, then why didn't you identify him sooner? He's a known figure in Kansas City society."

"I didn't know him. Not personally." Bailey's gaze darted up to meet the blond woman's faintly accusatory question. "I identified him by voice. And I did recognize his eyes as soon as I saw them again. Once he was arrested, I picked out his mug shot from a group of several suspects."

"You had a head injury, didn't you? Perhaps your memory isn't as clear as you'd like it to be."

Before Bailey could form the appropriate words to defend her competence as the prosecution's star witness, Harper Pierce, the family attorney her parents had insisted accompany them down to Precinct headquarters this morning, interrupted.

"Is that a threat, Kenna?" he challenged.

The woman smiled up at the attorney in the three-piece suit. "Of course not. I'm good enough I don't need to make threats." With a polite nod to everyone in the room, she turned on her Italian leather pumps and headed out the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go talk to my client. Chief Taylor?"

Mitch Taylor, the Precinct commander who blocked the door, folded his arms across his barrel-chest. "My people made a good arrest, Ms. Parker. They pulled a dangerous man off the streets."

"Did they?" She waited until he stepped aside to let her pass. "Or did they just find a convenient scapegoat so you could close your investigation and get the press off your back?"

Everyone in the tiny room turned their heads at the onslaught of voices and bright lights that greeted the lady attorney as soon as she stepped into the hallway. Reporters.

"Ms. Parker. Is your client a free man?"

"Will he still be out on bail?"

"Did the witness identify him as the Rose Red Rapist?"

"Who is the witness?"

Bailey clutched her stomach as a wave of nausea churned inside her. They were closing in like vultures.

"Oh, my."

Dwight Powers braced his hand beneath her elbow. "Mitch," he warned.

"I'm on it." With a curt nod, Mitch stepped into the hallway. With a booming voice that made Bailey tremble, he took charge of the surging crowd. "This is a police station, not gossip central. Kate Kilpatrick, our task force liaison to the press, will answer your questions downstairs."

"Is that Brian Elliot?" a woman asked. "Could we talk to him?"

"My client is being released on bail, and we'll be making a formal statement later," Kenna promised.

"Joe! Sarge!" Bailey ducked behind the D.A.'s broad back as Chief Taylor called for backup. "Get them out of here. I'm not putting on a press conference for that scum. The reporters can talk to Elliott outside, once we get his ankle bracelet back on him."

"Yes, sir." A dutiful voice from the hallway hastened to do his chief's bidding. "Ms. Owen. Mr. Knight. This way, people. I'll escort you down to the front door."

As soon as Chief Taylor closed the door behind him, Bailey's mother, Loretta Austin-Mayweather, spoke from the back of the room. "I don't like that woman. Do you think Kenna Parker staged that harangue of reporters to frighten Bailey?"

With the reporters' protesting voices reduced to a murmur, the D.A. released his grip on Bailey. "It's a possibility. She'll use every weapon in her arsenal to prove reasonable doubt to the jury. And since a lot of our case rests on your daughter…"

Bailey's chin popped up when he turned his eyes on her. Forcing herself to take easy, calming breaths, Bailey nodded. She had to do this. "Don't worry, Mr. Powers. You can count on me."

Loretta glanced up at the distinguished...

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9780373747832: Yuletide Protector (The Precinct: Task Force, 6, Band 1462)

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ISBN 10:  0373747837 ISBN 13:  9780373747832
Verlag: Harlequin Intrigue Larger Print, 2013
Softcover