Deadly Relations (29 page)

“
Where’s Damon?”

“
In the living room, unconscious.”

Blake rushed to the table to help Jennifer remove the remaining duct tape from Megan’s wrists and ankles. When Blake tried to pull her into a sitting position, she slumped back to the table.

“
He’s injected her with Rohypnol,” Jennifer said, as she placed her ear near her mother’s face. “Her breathing has slowed. She needs medical treatment, Blake. Mom has a heart condition.”

They both heard a commotion in the living room, but before they could respond, Damon appeared in the doorway with his arm tightened around Tim’s neck, and a gun pointed at the sheriff’s head.

Both Jennifer and Blake stiffened, but refused to lower the guns they pointed at Damon.

“
Let my father go,” Jennifer demanded. “Let him go now!”

“
Go to hell, Jennifer. I don’t take orders from a bitch,” Damon growled in return. “Put your guns down on the floor, or Daddy gets it. Then Mommy.”

With her finger on the trigger guard, Jennifer held her weapon in the firing position. She moved into the firing stance, with her feet shoulder-width apart and her left foot a step past her right, her dominant eye focused on Damon’s head. “Not going to happen, Damon. My gun stays where it is. Let go of my father.”

At an impasse, Damon’s eyes darted from Jennifer to Blake and then back.

Just as Jennifer inserted her trigger finger into the trigger guard, Tim delivered a punishing elbow jab into Damon’s rib cage, then he dropped to the floor. Recovering quickly, Damon aimed his gun at Tim, but before he could pull the trigger, a bullet from Jennifer’s gun slammed into Damon’s head.

Tim pushed Damon’s body off him, and checked his pulse. “He’s dead.”

Blake took the gun from Jennifer’s shaking hands and slipped it in the back of his waistband. He then pulled Jennifer into his arms and held her until she stopped trembling.

Tim whipped out his cell phone. “Andy, get that copter back here! My wife needs to be taken to the hospital.”

<><><>

Frankie and Lane had a “Thank-God-Its-Over” cookout on a beautiful spring day. Anne and Michael Brandt were already there, as well as Tim and Megan Brennan, when Blake and Jennifer parked in the driveway. In the backyard, Lane hovered over his top-of-the-line gas grill that Frankie surprised him with on his last birthday, as Tim supervised the grilling of the steaks. Frankie pointed to a huge cooler filled with ice, beer, wine coolers, and sodas, telling Blake and Jennifer to help themselves.

Michael and Anne sat in patio chairs on the lawn, watching the kids play with the dogs. Little Ashley scrambled after a ball thrown for the Giant Schnauzers, Harley and Hunter, to chase, inspiring five-year-old Michael Brandt, Jr. to lecture her on the fine arts of playing catch with dogs. When Ashley’s face puckered up and tears filled her eyes, Michael Jr.’s twin, Melissa, hugged the little girl and told her she could chase the ball if she wanted to. Michael Jr. shrugged his shoulders to demonstrate his frustration, then joined his dad to debate the subject.

Frankie asked Megan about her hospital stay.

“
The Rohypnol slowed down my breathing, so they gave me some oxygen and treated me with activated charcoal. I hate hospitals. I couldn’t wait to go home. I don’t know what all the fuss was about. I’m fine.”

“
Is it true about Rohypnol? That it causes you to forget what’s happened?”

“
I can’t remember a thing that happened after Damon Mason entered our home,” Megan replied. “I’m disappointed I missed all the exciting parts, like the ride in the helicopter to the hospital.”

Tim joined them and said, “Personally, I could have lived without remembering all the exciting parts.”

“
Yeah, me, too,” said Blake. He glanced at Jennifer and wondered why she’d been so quiet all day. He put his arm around the back of her chair and stroked her arm gently with his fingers.

Lane looked at the couple and asked, “So you two both have a week’s vacation. What are you going to do with it?”

“
We’re flying to Florida to see Carly, and I want to introduce Jennifer to my parents,” Blake said.

Jennifer added, “I can’t wait to see Carly and get some sun. Florida beaches are beautiful.”

“
Is your counseling finished?” Tim asked Jennifer. Per policy, all officers involved in a shooting were required to attend counseling sessions.

“
Yes, Dad,” she answered.

“
How’d it go?”

“
I’ll tell you what I told Dr. Shields. I don’t for a minute regret shooting that vicious killer.”

Tim hugged his daughter and said, “You saved our lives that day.”

“
Dad, there’s something I want to do for Brianna’s little girl, Amanda.”

“
What’s that?”

“
I want the money in the trust fund that Paul Vance left me to go to her,” Jennifer said. “I want Amanda to grow up, go to college, and do all the wonderful things in life that I’m sure Brianna wanted for her.”

Michael spoke up. “If that’s what you want to do, I’ll help you make it happen.”

<><><>

After an impromptu softball game, where Jennifer skidded into home base for a home run, the party broke up and everyone headed home. Blake parked the SUV in front of Jennifer’s house and followed her inside. He noticed her scraped knee was bleeding, so he bounded up the stairs for the first aid kit.

Blake found the first aid kit in her bathroom medicine cabinet where she said it would be. He pulled it from the shelf, and then closed the cabinet door. Somehow the kit slipped from his fingers and plopped into the small waste basket next to the sink. He plucked the kit from the waste basket. That’s when he noticed something and froze. There was a small plastic tube with the words “pregnancy test” written on its side. Pregnancy test? Slowly, he reached back into the can and held the plastic tube up so he could read the results.

<><><>

Jennifer heard him walk into the room, his footsteps heavy and slow. She turned to see if he had the first aid kit and what she saw sucked the air out of her lungs, as if she’d been punched in the chest.

Blake stood in the doorway holding her plastic pregnancy test tube between his index finger and his thumb. His eyes were glistening and his expression bore a seriousness she’d never seen before.

“
I’m not going to ask you why you didn’t tell me. I’m not even going to ask you how long you’ve known. But I am going to answer the questions you haven’t asked.” He tossed the plastic container onto the end table and moved a step toward her.

“
Yes, I want this baby,” he continued. “Yes. I can’t think of anything I want more than our little boy or girl.”

“
Blake, I...”

“
There’s more that I want. I want you, this baby and me to be a real family. I want a house with a picket fence and a swing-set in the backyard. I want a front porch with a swing so we can sit out there and talk about our days, and make plans for our future.” His large hand took her face and held it gently. “I want to spend my days knowing that I will spend my nights with you and our kids.”

“
I love you so much, Blake.”

“
Honey, I’m crazy about you. I want to marry you, Jennifer. I want us to make that lifetime commitment and keep it.” Blake paused for a second. “Will you marry me? Will you trust me to be the man who will always be there for you?”

In one forward motion, Jennifer was in his arms where he held her snugly, kissing her hard.

“
I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’.”

<><><>

If you liked
Deadly Deception
, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book too by recommending it to your friends, family and book clubs and/or by writing a positive review on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Goodreads or Smashwords.

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[email protected]
. I’d like to
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Thank you.

Alexa Grace

P.S. If you should find a mistake. I always strive to write the best book possible and use a team of beta readers as well as an editor prior to publication. But goofs slip through. If something slipped past us, please let me know by writing to me at
[email protected]
. Thank you.

Alexa Grace

Book One of the Deadly Trilogy

Available Now
 

Book One of the Deadly Trilogy

He may offer her only chance at survival.

But will she survive the passion that rages between them?

Anne Mason thinks she’ll be safe living in the Midwest building a wind farm. She may be dead wrong. Someone is dumping bodies in her corn field and telling Anne they are gifts—for her!

As the body count rises, Anne realizes a cold-blooded serial killer is patiently waiting and watching her every move. And he won’t stop until he ends her life. It is clear there are no limits to this killer’s thirst for revenge or how far he will go to get it.

Anne is not at all pleased to learn that her new next-door neighbor is county prosecutor Michael Brandt — the same man who represented her ex in her divorce proceedings.
He is the last person Anne can trust, but may offer her only chance at survival from a psychopathic killer. But will she survive the passion that rages between them?

Excerpt
from
Deadly Offerings

Anne peered into her refrigerator. Not a piece of junk food in sight. She opened the freezer. How could she be out of ice cream at a time like this?

She had to get out of the house. Tonight bad memories hung over her like a thundercloud. She relived the humiliating divorce hearing over and over, becoming angrier each time.

She tried to sleep. No success. She got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jean shorts, a black glittery Lady Gaga tank top and her Reeboks. She’d go for a drive to clear her head. It was close to midnight but with any luck, she’d find someplace open to stock up on junk food.

She backed her SUV out of the garage, shoved the gear to drive and moved down the street, windows down, the breeze whipping her ponytail about her face. She drove down Route 40 until she reached a section of fast food restaurants, bars and a mini-mart. The mini-mart didn’t look busy so she parked in front.

She grabbed a shopping basket and strode down an aisle of the store picking up Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Butterfinger candy bars, tortilla chips, a jar of salsa, and a quart of soda as she went. She moved to the refrigerator case and eyed the selection of ice cream. She pulled out a couple of cartons of Ben & Jerry’s Red Velvet Cake then headed to the teenaged cashier whose eyes were plastered on her long legs.

She paid for the items, whirled around and slammed into the hard chest of a tall man entering the store. Her items tumbled from the bag. The salsa jar rolled across the store as did the bottle of soda. The man uttered “sorry” as he bent to help her pick up the items. He picked up the salsa and put it in her bag. He moved down the aisle to get the soda that had rolled under a freezer then turned toward her. In a black leather jacket and snug faded jeans, he was one of those men that radiated testosterone. And wasn't it just her luck, or lack of, that Michael Brandt, her jerk ex-husband's attorney was heading toward her holding her soda, sending her a dazzling smile that sent her stupid heart racing. She yanked the soda bottle out of his hand, thanked him and resisted the childish urge to kick him in the shin. Instead, she rushed out of the store.

She opened the back of the car to place the groceries inside. She pulled a Butterfinger bar out of one of the bags and got into the front seat. As she opened the candy bar, she glanced at Michael Brandt, still inside the store, who was now staring at her with an odd expression on his face, hands on his hips.