Lynette Eason - Threat of Exposure

Of course Brock was with her, but still…

Just as he was about to step back inside his own hotel room, Gisella appeared in the doorway next to his. “You all set?” he asked.

She looked up to meet his eyes, and his blood pumped a little faster. She had beautiful, big brown eyes. Eyes that made a man want to act like a brainless sap and get lost in them. He blinked. “You bet.” She gave him a funny smile. “You?”

He nodded, then said, “But sleep with your gun close by. These locks are pitiful.”

She gave him another soft smile that made his heart do things it hadn’t done in a long time. He gulped and ordered himself not to be attracted to her.

It didn’t work.

TEXAS RANGER JUSTICE:

Keeping the Lone Star State safe

Threat of Exposure—Lynette Eason, May 2011

grew up in Greenville, South Carolina. Her home church, Northgate Baptist, had a tremendous influence on her during her early years. She credits Christian parents and dedicated Sunday school teachers for her acceptance of Christ at the tender age of eight. Even as a young girl, she knew she wanted her life to reflect the love of Jesus.

Lynette attended the University of South Carolina in Columbia, SC, then moved to Spartanburg, SC, to attend Converse College, where she obtained her master’s degree in education. During that time, she met the boy next door, Jack Eason, and married him. Jack is the executive director of the Sound of Light Ministries. Lynette and Jack have two precious children—Lauryn, eight years old, and Will, who is six. She and Jack are members of New Life Baptist Fellowship Church in Boiling Springs, SC, where Jack serves as the worship leader and Lynette teaches Sunday school to the four-and five-year-olds.

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Arise, O Lord,

in your anger; rise up against the rage of

my enemies. Awake, my God; decree justice.

—Psalms 7:6

To my son, Will,

who has a very strong sense of right and wrong. May

you grow in the Lord, stand strong

and be an advocate for justice.

I’m so proud of you and I love you more!

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LETTER TO READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

DEA agent Brock Martin stared at the man behind the gun. The man who was supposed to be his informant. The man who’d sold accurate information to him over the last year. A man who Brock hadn’t come to trust, but had come to rely on.

The cold January wind blew across his face, but that wasn’t what caused his violent shudder. “What are you doing, Lenny?”

One minute they were talking like always, the next, the weapon had appeared in Lenny’s hand almost before Brock could blink. The move had been totally unexpected and Brock drew in a deep breath, ready to draw on all of his hostage negotiation training.

Then Lenny gave a smile that chilled his blood. “I got a better offer from Harry Lowe. He decided you’ve caused him enough grief and lost profit.”

Harry Lowe. A big-time drug dealer along the Mexico- Texas border. Brock had been working this area between Juarez, Mexico, and El Paso, Texas, a long time. But one small slipup and he could die.

Lenny’s cold eyes and steady hand holding the weapon said Brock had slipped up.

In a major way.

Dread and fear clawed its way into his chest. He swallowed hard trying to figure out how he’d ended up in this predicament. “Lenny, come on, man, you don’t want to do this. Everyone at the station knows I’m meeting with you. And they’re waiting for me to get back with whatever you have for me.”

A nervous twitch of Lenny’s left eye told Brock that it didn’t matter. The man’s hand trembled as he stared down the barrel.

Right now Lenny was more scared of not doing what Harry Lowe wanted than he was of going to jail for murder.

Not a good situation for Brock.

More fear and no small amount of self-disgust curled through his gut. He’d gotten careless. Now, it seemed it might be his night to die. He’d always wondered how it would happen. How he would go. If he’d be ready.

He wasn’t.

But now it seemed in this small church parking lot, hidden in the shadows of the trees, he was going to face his maker.

God, please…

His mind formed the prayer even as he calculated the odds of successfully jumping Lenny. He realized he would have no chance of tackling the man or reaching for his own weapon, now on the ground to his left, before Lenny pulled the trigger.

So he had to make a choice. Jump Lenny and take his chances or bolt for cover and hope Lenny’s aim was off.

Bad odds all around.

Lenny sniffed and aimed the gun point-blank at Brock’s head. “Sorry, dude, but a man’s gotta do what a…”

“Put the gun down, Lenny!” the voice came from Brock’s left behind the trees. Lenny jerked, whipped the gun toward the voice, and pulled the trigger.

Brock darted to the bumper of his vehicle, wishing he hadn’t kicked his weapon quite so hard when Lenny had demanded he drop it. It glinted under the streetlamp ten yards away, mocking his incompetence.

Then he heard the pop of another bullet and felt the buzz as it careened past his cheek to plant itself in the asphalt beside him. God, get me out of this, please. I’m not ready to face You yet.

Adrenaline pumping, he rolled for cover even as he heard the discharge of another weapon, the howl of pain and the thud of a body hitting the asphalt.

Running footsteps echoed behind him as he lunged for Lenny, who now lay face down, and kicked his gun from his outstretched hand. Brock flipped the man, then planted a knee in his would-be killer’s back as he swiped the cuffs from his belt.

Through gritted teeth, Brock muttered, “You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of a law enforcement officer. You have the right to remain…” He broke off as a pair of boots stepped into his line of vision.

With Lenny’s hands securely fastened behind his back, Brock allowed his eyes to travel north from the boots, up a pair of jean-clad legs to a belt fastened around a slim waist he could probably span with his hands. He let his gaze wander on up to the white shirt with a badge.

A badge with a star inside it. Right over the wearer’s heart. She held her weapon ready and steady.

When he finally reached his rescuer’s face, he knew in his gut exactly who’d saved his life.