Cynthia Cooke - Peter's Return

If their ransom was paid.

Don’t think like that, she told herself, but she was alone in the world. She swallowed her despair; she’d dealt with her parents’ car accident years ago, but Peter was another matter.

She’d lost touch with her ex-husband. It had been a long time. If he’d discovered she was gone, would he come looking for her?

FAITH ON THE LINE:

Two powerful families wage war on evil…and find love

ADAM’S PROMISE—

Gail Gaymer Martin (LI #259)

FINDING AMY—

Carol Steward (LI #263)

GABRIEL’S DISCOVERY—

Felicia Mason (LI #267)

REDEEMING TRAVIS—

Kate Welsh (LI #271)

PETER’S RETURN—

Cynthia Cooke (LI #275)

PROTECTING HOLLY—

Lynn Bulock (LI #279)

Ten years ago, Cynthia Cooke lived a quiet, idyllic life, caring for her beautiful eighteen-month-old daughter. Then peace gave way to chaos with the birth of her boy/girl twins. Hip-deep in diapers and baby food and living in a world of sleep deprivation, she kept her sanity by reading romance novels and dreaming of someday writing one. She counts her blessings every day as she fulfills her dreams with the love and support of good friends, her very own hunky hero and three boisterous children who constantly keep her laughing and her world spinning. Cynthia loves to hear from her readers. Visit her online at http://www.cynthiacooke.com.

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This book is dedicated to my special friends,

Rosanne Falcone and Margaret Dear, for all your help and support on

this story and to my family for rearranging their summer to fit into

Mommy’s writing schedule. You are the best! I love you!

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean

not on your own understanding; in all

your ways acknowledge Him, and He

will make your paths straight.

—Proverbs 3:5-6

Peter Vance—His dangerous CIA job and the almost-fatal explosion destroyed his marriage and sent him deep underground for the past three years. But running into Emily at Baltasar Escalante’s estate can blow his cover…and get them both killed.

Dr. Emily Armstrong—Peter’s ex-wife is not the adventurous type…so why is the lovely doctor in Venezuela working for Doctors Without Borders?

Baltasar Escalante—The drug lord will do anything to comfort his dying son, including kidnap doctors to ease the boy’s suffering.

Snake—Escalante’s henchman helps Emily—but for what reason?

Dr. Robert Fletcher—The other doctor from Vance Memorial abducted with Emily. Will he live to see his wife and sons once 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

Letter to Reader

Caracas, Venezuela

Dr. Emily Armstrong grabbed onto Dr. Robert Fletcher’s shoulder. “We’ve been kidnapped!”

Robert’s lips twisted in amusement as he patted her fingers. “Let’s not be dramatic, Doctor.”

Emily withdrew her hand and leaned back against the seat. “I should have known the moment I saw this black monstrosity of a vehicle with its leather seats and tinted windows that we were in trouble. Only bad guys and government agents drive these things. I know—I was married to one.”

“Really?” he said dryly. “I always find it amazing that before the marriage we’re Mr. Perfect, Mr. Wonderful, yet after—”

“Not a bad guy,” she corrected. “A government type.” She screwed her lips into a don’t-you-know-anything expression, leaned in closer, and lowered her voice. “CIA, if you must know.”

“I’ve heard,” Robert replied. “The illustrious missing Peter Vance. Heard he gave it all up and headed for the woods to find himself. What was that, three years ago? You must have done quite a number on him.”

Emily snorted, though a pang shot through her. “Peter loved his work, loved the danger. I couldn’t see him giving it up for anyone, not even me.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and watched the South American city pass by.

“Why give it up? You seem like a girl who likes a little danger in her life.”

Emily turned from the tinted window as high-rise apartments gave way to ramshackle shacks, and brushed her long blond hair behind her ear. “Who, me? I don’t do danger.”

It was Robert’s turn to snort.

“What?” she demanded, not sure how he could possibly get the impression from her boring, nothing-ever-happens-to-me life that she could be the type of woman who liked danger.

“If I believed that, even for a second, then you’d be home right now in your safe little apartment, in your idyllic American town and not on your way to a primitive Venezuelan clinic.”

Emily lifted her chin in indignation. “I said I don’t like danger, I didn’t say I don’t like helping people. When Kate Montgomery told me about the condition of the poor children living in the barrios, how could I not agree to come down here and help?”

“Even after what had happened to Adam?”

“Adam’s shooting was an extraordinary circumstance. Dr. Valenti was a desperate man who got himself addicted to painkillers. Otherwise, I don’t believe he ever would have tried to steal drugs from the clinic. But you’re right, whatever he got himself into, he got in too deep. Thank the Lord he’s a bad shot and Adam survived. In any case, Dr. Valenti was caught and extra security measures at the clinic have been put into place. We shouldn’t have to worry about anything like that happening again.”

Robert looked grim. “Unfortunately, Valenti was killed in jail so we’ll never know the truth of what was behind it all, or who.”

“You’re looking for conspiracies where they don’t exist,” Emily said matter-of-factly. “Nothing else could possibly go wrong.” But even as she said the words, she realized she was worried. Something didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what was bothering her. The town? The car? The driver? “Unless of course we’ve been kidnapped. You know kidnappings are very popular in this region.”

Robert’s shoulders shook with an unsuppressed chuckle.

“I’m glad you find me so amusing,” she said and leaned forward to speak to the driver. “How much longer to the clinic? I thought it was just outside Caracas.” She glanced out the window. “We’ve been outside of Caracas for a while now.”

The man didn’t respond, just continued driving as if she weren’t even there. She couldn’t say she liked his looks much, all dark and swarthy with a large coiling red-and-black snake tattooed on his arm.