Hidden Witness (Return to Ravesville, 1, Band 1604) - Softcover

Buch 1 von 4: Return to Ravesville

Long, Beverly

 
9780373698714: Hidden Witness (Return to Ravesville, 1, Band 1604)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373698712 ISBN 13: 9780373698714
Verlag: Harlequin Intrigue, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

Their marriage was fake. How he felt about her was anything but… 

Detective Chase Hollister knows the perils of protecting a witness. He's got the bullet wound to prove it. But getting shot is nothing compared to his next assignment: fake marriage. Gorgeous fake wife. Living together 24/7 in a fake house. All to protect witness Raney Taylor from a very real assassin. As Chase and his new "wife" set up house, he realizes there's something very genuine about his smoldering attraction to Raney. Then her safety is threatened and his every protective fiber goes on alert. Suddenly, although their wedding may have been a sham, Chase knows there's nothing fake about his feelings for this witness…

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Beverly Long"s writing career has spanned more than two decades and twenty novels. She writes romantic suspense with sexy heroes and smart heroines. She can often be found with her laptop in a coffee shop with a cafe au lait and anythiing made with dark chocolate by her side.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chase Hollister heard his cell phone ring and used his forearm to pull the pillow that he slept half-on and half-under closer around his ears. It rang four times and clicked over to voice mail. Thirty seconds later, it started ringing again.

"Damn," he muttered, tossing off the pillow. He glanced at the number, saw that it was his brother and reached for the phone.

He pushed a button. "I have not had any sleep for twenty-eight hours," Chase said. "This better be good."

"Brick is dead," Bray said.

Chase sat up in bed. He hadn't heard the man's name in over eight years. Hadn't spoken it himself for much longer. "How?"

"Car accident. His sister was with him. They had a double funeral two days ago."

Chase had met his stepfather's older sister once, maybe twice. He recalled that even as a teenager, he'd known there was something odd about her. That family had a bad gene pool.

"Anybody else get hurt?" Chase asked.

"Nope. One car. Only Brick and Adelle in it. They were on their way to Brick's doctor's appointment."

He lay back down. He didn't care about the details. "I'm going back to bed."

"I got a call from Mom's attorney," Bray said. "The house is ours."

In one smooth movement, Chase swung his body out of bed. His bare feet hit the soft rug first, then the polished hardwood. He walked down the short hallway and into his kitchen. The blinds were up and he was naked. He didn't care. He needed coffee. "That doesn't make sense. Brick had a son. I assume the man is still alive."

"I'm not sure but it's a moot point. When Mom died eight years ago, the house was in a trust for us. Brick had been granted lifetime use. The attorney said that we should have been made aware of that upon Mom's death but it was a slipup."

The irony was not lost on Chase. They could have fought the lifetime-use thing and booted him out of there. He'd have been on the outside looking in, kind of like Chase had been whenever Brick got a wild hair and locked him out.

He dumped some coffee in a filter, poured water in the coffeepot and flipped the start button. He didn't put the pot on the burner. Instead, he held a cup directly under the streaming coffee.

"You've got to go there and see what we need to do to get rid of the place," Bray said.

Chase jiggled the cup and hot liquid burned his hand. "No way," he said. "You go, you're the oldest."

"I would if I could. I'm three weeks into a new assignment. I can't pull out now."

"Cal will have to do it. We're older, we can make him." Chase added the familiar taunt, knowing there was nothing easy or familiar about his relationship with Cal.

"He's out of the country."

Cal had spent most of the past eight years out of the country. That was what navy SEALs did. For the past six months, following his discharge, he'd been working as a contractor. That was what his business card said. Chase supposed it could be true if the new breed of contractor was trained to blow up the bad guys, disarm bombs and generally screw with the enemy. "Well, I don't care if he's on the moon. I'm busy, too, you know. I've only been back for a week."

"How is the leg?"

Functional. Still not up to full strength. "Fine," Chase said.

"I thought you were going to be out for six weeks," Bray prodded. "You went back at four."

"We're short staffed."

"Aren't we all? I was especially impressed when your name popped up on one of my search engines. Then, when I dug a little deeper, I realized you were busy being a hero on your second day back."

Chase didn't answer. He'd hated the photo, the article, the attention. Hadn't considered that it went beyond the print edition.

"'Detective Chase Hollister, one of St. Louis's finest, keeping the streets safe for the rest of us,'" Bray recited.

His brother did his own part to keep the streets safe. Working undercover for the DEA wasn't easy. He would have hated the attention, too. But now he was picking a fight in hopes that Chase, wanting to end the conversation, would agree to take care of things. It wasn't going to work.

"Listen, Bray. It's simple. I'm not going back. The house can rot for all I care," he said. Chase hung up and tossed his cell phone onto the granite countertop. The noise echoed through the quiet apartment. Then he stood in his stainless-steel kitchen and sipped his coffee, burning his tongue in the process.

Ravesville, Missouri. Two hours southwest of St. Louis. A little town in the middle of the country, undisturbed by major highways and big box stores. A place where everybody knew their neighbor, talked about them freely and dropped everything when they needed a hand. It was the kind of place where a kid got on his bike at eight o'clock on a summer morning and didn't come home until dinner. The kind of place where there were community-wide chili dinners and pancake breakfasts and people stuck around to clear the tables and wash the dirty dishes. It had been home. And he'd been a happy enough kid.

And then everything had changed the summer his dad died. Chase had been fourteen, just about to enter high school. And as bad as his dying had been, it had gotten worse two years later when his mother had remarried and Brick had become his stepfather.

There probably wasn't a meaner man in the entire state. Why he'd married a woman with three teenage boys when he didn't appear to like kids was a mystery. He was estranged from his own son, who was quite a bit older than the Hollister boys. Chase could only remember meeting him once.

When the phone rang again less than five minutes later, he picked it up, ready to give his brother an earful. At the last second, he realized it was his partner's number. The man should have been sleeping, too. He'd been awake the same twenty-eight hours.

"Yeah," Chase said.

"The boss called. He just heard from the chief," Dawson said. "Somebody used the Florida witness in the Malone case for target practice."

He and Dawson hadn't worked the Malone case but the man was suspected of murdering three Missouri women about a year ago, one of whom was the chief's godchild. Harry Malone was currently locked up in the county jail awaiting trial and everybody in the St. Louis Police Department, from the janitor up, had an interest in the case. "That doesn't make sense. That woman should have been sealed up tighter than your wallet."

"Funny."

"Was she injured?"

"No. Lorraine Taylor got lucky."

Then, it was the second time she'd gotten lucky. He wasn't sure of the details but through the grapevine he'd heard that she'd somehow managed to get away from Harry Malone. She'd told the cops about the pictures of the dead women that Harry Malone had proudly shown her and the admission Malone had made about killing the women. She'd been able to lead them back to the apartment where she'd been held. Unfortunately, by that time, Harry and his pictures were gone. But her DNA had been in several places in the apartment and she'd had injuries consistent with her story.

But Harry had been careful and there was no physical evidence linking him to the Missouri murders because there were no bodies.

Even so, based on the information that Lorraine Taylor had provided, Harry Malone had been picked up and charged with...

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Verlag
Harlequin Intrigue
Erscheinungsdatum
2015
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373698712
ISBN 13 
9780373698714
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
224
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Product Safety Manager
enquiries@harpercollins.ie

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