Cynthia Reese - Sweet Justice

Title Page Sweet Justice Cynthia Reese www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author CYNTHIA REESE lives with her husband and their daughter in south Georgia, along with their two dogs, three cats and however many strays show up for morning muster. She has been scribbling since she was knee-high to a grasshopper and reading even before that. A former journalist, teacher and college English instructor, she also enjoys cooking, traveling and photography when she gets the chance.

Dedication To my lovely gal pals—Leslie, Bobbi and Fran. Thanks for talking me down from the ledges. Acknowledgments Acknowledgments 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 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY Extract Copyright Kathryn Lye and Victoria Curran are the best editors on the planet—this book wouldn’t have been possible without them. I also owe a huge debt to my Harlequin Heartwarming sister Karen Rock, who patiently brainstormed with me to work out the lives of the Georgia Monroes. For technical help, thanks goes to Sergeant Tommy Windham and all the firefighters at the City of Dublin, Georgia’s Fire Department. Dr. Jean Sumner first gave me the idea of what injury Katelyn might suffer in a fire. Eric Carney and Stacy Watson graciously taught me what burn victims endure during rehab. All mistakes are mine! Inspiration also came from the Love family—they’ve shown me what a wonderful thing a big family can be. My critique partner, Tawna Fenske, as well as my readers, Jessica Brown, Wright and Dusty Gres, Kandice Williams, and Lee and Kathy Cheek, helped me tremendously. And to my husband and my daughter—I owe you loan-shark big for putting up with my MIA self.

Acknowledgments Acknowledgments Acknowledgments 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 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY Extract Copyright Kathryn Lye and Victoria Curran are the best editors on the planet—this book wouldn’t have been possible without them. I also owe a huge debt to my Harlequin Heartwarming sister Karen Rock, who patiently brainstormed with me to work out the lives of the Georgia Monroes. For technical help, thanks goes to Sergeant Tommy Windham and all the firefighters at the City of Dublin, Georgia’s Fire Department. Dr. Jean Sumner first gave me the idea of what injury Katelyn might suffer in a fire. Eric Carney and Stacy Watson graciously taught me what burn victims endure during rehab. All mistakes are mine! Inspiration also came from the Love family—they’ve shown me what a wonderful thing a big family can be. My critique partner, Tawna Fenske, as well as my readers, Jessica Brown, Wright and Dusty Gres, Kandice Williams, and Lee and Kathy Cheek, helped me tremendously. And to my husband and my daughter—I owe you loan-shark big for putting up with my MIA self.

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

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

BLACKNESS.

A solid wall of blackness.

Andrew Monroe crawled farther into the darkness, the grit of the floor biting into his knees, the heft of the fire hose under his right arm. His left hand secure on Eric Russell’s turnout gear, the only way he even knew his fellow crewmember was ahead of him.

And the girl they were trying to find? Who knew where she was? Or was she even here?

Eric had called out to her, but the only noise that penetrated the darkness was the rasp of their own breathing.

Captain had said that her roommates weren’t sure the girl, Katelyn, was still in the house—if you could call the tumbledown two-story much of a house. It seemed to go on forever, just room after room. It was like so many of the big old homes in this college town—taken over by students in search of cheap rent, and who cared if the place was nothing more than a firetrap?

The roommates, Cap said, weren’t even sure this girl, Katelyn, had even come home the night before. No one had seen her since yesterday afternoon.

She was probably out for an early-morning run or getting coffee or had slept over at a friend’s—at least, she was if she was lucky.

Whether she was in here or not, it was Eric and Andrew’s job to clear the structure and make sure no one was still in the house. So they started at the bottom, intent on working toward the stairs.

Eric moved forward, and Andrew crawled behind. He heard Eric’s muffled call for Katelyn again, then his waiting silence.

Only the sound of their air packs answered. Andrew’s heart sank. This was a mess, and he could sense time was running out for her if she was in here. She was just a college kid.

Nobody needs to die that young.

Eric pulled up short, and Andrew almost crashed into him. He stayed still, listening. Yeah—there it was again, ahead and above them...on the stairs?

A girl screaming. Even through his mask and the rest of his gear, Andrew could hear the panic in her voice.

Why do they always go up?

Was she coming down the stairs? In this smoke? She’d be dead—better for her to stay where she was until they could get a ladder setup outside, pull her from one of the upstairs windows.

He felt more than heard her as she dashed back and forth across the landing above their heads.

Hasn’t anyone taught you to get on your knees in a fire? Sheesh. You’re like a jackrabbit up there. Slow down, otherwise you run out of air. Get to a window.

Had Eric heard? Andrew signaled to Eric, who was in charge of their two-man sweep team. They needed to radio the captain. As the guy in charge, that was Eric’s call to make.

Once the girl was safe, Captain could assess whether it was worth the risk to save this heap of junk.

Eric and Andrew’s history of teamwork paid off. Andrew sensed that his buddy had either heard the girl himself or realized that Andrew had.

Eric moved—for his radio? To tell Andrew to make the call?

Andrew didn’t have the time to figure it out, because in the next breath, the floor next to Eric gave way. Hot air belched upward, along with a cloud of blackness tinged with an unearthly glow from the flames beneath them.

His buddy would have dropped into that glow if Andrew hadn’t had a hold of him. Even so, Eric slipped, his hands scrabbling for purchase, his feet digging into part of the floor that still held. Andrew tightened his grip on him, praying that the floor wouldn’t give way beneath them.

C’mon, c’mon, hold still!