Jack LaCroix was the most unsettling human being she’d ever met.
“What do you want?” She looked into the disturbing depths of his eyes.
“I know you don’t trust me.” He stepped toward her. “But I need your help.”
She’d forgotten how tall he was. A year ago, she’d been taken in by his muscular physique and that reckless glint in his eye. Tonight, the cold reality of what he’d done blurred the sweet memory of how good things had once been between them. Landis raised her chin and met his gaze. “You should have considered the consequences before you committed murder.”
“I’m sure this is going to throw a wrench into your undying faith in the criminal justice system, but I didn’t kill Evan. Someone set me up.”
“I’ve heard this before. I didn’t believe it then. I don’t believe it now. Nothing has changed.”
“Everything has changed,” he said quietly. “I can prove it now.”
Dear Reader,
This year may be winding down, but the excitement’s as high as ever here at Silhouette Intimate Moments. National bestselling author Merline Lovelace starts the month off with a bang with A Question of Intent, the first of a wonderful new miniseries called TO PROTECT AND DEFEND. Look for the next book, Full Throttle, in Silhouette Desire in January 2004.
Because you’ve told us you like miniseries, we’ve got three more for you this month. Marie Ferrarella continues her family-based CAVANAUGH JUSTICE miniseries with Crime and Passion. Then we have two military options: Strategic Engagement features another of Catherine Mann’s WINGMEN WARRIORS, while Ingrid Weaver shows she can Aim for the Heart with her newest EAGLE SQUADRON tale. We’ve got a couple of superb stand-alone novels for you, too: Midnight Run, in which a wrongly accused cop has only one option—the heroine!—to save his freedom, by reader favorite Linda Castillo, and Laura Gale’s deeply moving debut, The Tie That Binds, about a reunited couple’s fight to save their daughter’s life.
Enjoy them all—and we’ll see you again next month, for six more of the best and most exciting romances around.
Yours,
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Editor
Midnight Run
Linda Castillo
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knew at a very young age that she wanted to be a writer—and penned her first novel at the age of thirteen. She is the winner of numerous writing awards, including a nomination for the prestigious RITA ®Award, the Holt Medallion and Golden Heart. She loves writing edgy stories that push the envelope and take her readers on a roller-coaster ride of breathtaking romance and thrilling suspense.
Linda spins her tales of love and intrigue from her home in Texas, where she lives with her husband and four lovable dogs. Check out her Web site at www.lindacastillo.com. Or you can contact her at P.O. Box 670501, Dallas, Texas 75367-0501.
To my editor, Kim Nadelson, for seeing the magic
and helping to make this story a reality.
You have my admiration and heartfelt thanks.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Fate had a twisted sense of humor, Jack LaCroix decided when the first shot rang out. Branches slashed at his clothes and face as he sprinted through the dense brush and low-growing trees. His prison-issue boots pounded through the mud in a rhythm that had pushed his body to the limit for what seemed like eternity. Behind him, the hounds were so close he could hear their frustrated baying over the sound of his own labored breathing.
He’d always considered himself a lucky man. At least up until a year ago when Lady Luck turned on him and bared her fangs. Damn, he wished he’d remembered how capricious she could be before trying a crazy stunt like breaking out of prison. If only he could charm her into keeping the dogs off him long enough for him to reach the river.
Desperation hammered through him as he calculated how far he had yet to go. Two hundred miles separated him from freedom. From justice. From the truth. A bitter laugh escaped him as the odds of his getting away struck him. Even if he made it to the river, he still faced his biggest obstacle yet. The only person who could help him believed he was a murderer.
Panic reared inside him at the thought. Everything he’d ever worked for or believed in—his very life in fact—hinged on whether he could convince her to help him. If she refused, or if they caught him before he reached her, he would be sent back to prison. He couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not when he’d already ventured beyond the point of no return.
Plummeting down a steep embankment, he reached the flood plain of the river. Hope curled through him when he heard the sound of rushing water. He picked up speed and ran blindly in the darkness, stumbling over rocks and stumps, no longer feeling the branches cutting his face or the rain that pelted him.
He stopped at the edge of the clearing, listening, his breaths rushing out in great white puffs. Behind him, the dogs howled in an eerie bloodlust symphony. The rain-swollen river loomed beyond the trees, the black, swirling water teasing him with the seductive promise of escape.
Every muscle in his body tensed as he stepped into the clearing. He could barely hear the dogs over the frenzied beating of his heart. He was in plain sight now, an easy mark for any government-paid sharpshooter looking to cut a notch in the butt of his rifle. Crouching, he started for the river, knowing fully if fate decided to dupe him again, she would win for good.
White-hot pain streaked through his left shoulder. An instant later the clap of a rifle shattered the air. He heard himself cry out as the impact of the bullet spun him around. Clutching his shoulder, he lost his footing and tumbled down the muddy bank. Shock tore through him when he realized he’d been shot, then again as the icy water enveloped him.
Damn, he didn’t want to bleed to death in this godforsaken river. Not like this. He didn’t want to die like a criminal.
An eerie calm descended. Instinctively, he began to swim. The dogs couldn’t scent him here, he thought as the current tugged at him. He wouldn’t leave any footprints. The trackers would find blood on the bank. Hopefully, they’d think he succumbed to the cold and drowned. With a little help from Lady Luck, he might just live long enough to see daybreak.
With the thrill of victory still humming through her veins, the last thing Landis McAllister wanted to deal with was the weather. She could handle a few snow flurries. Even an inch or two on the roads didn’t bother her. It was when Mother Nature went overboard and dumped two feet of the stuff that she questioned the wisdom of mountain living.
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