Terri Reed - Covert Pursuit

“If it wasn’t a body, then what? Drugs? Weapons?”

The woman wasn’t going to relent, was she? “The Colombian drug cartel has a pipeline to the U.S. through the Keys. Arms dealers are a dime a dozen, especially around the Gulf of Mexico.”

Detective Angie Carlucci peered at him with suspicion in her eyes. “You’re not a simple boat captain. Who are you?”

For her own good, he couldn’t reveal his identity. If she kept pushing, she’d find out how dangerous things could get. “Trust me, you’ll be safer if you pretend you didn’t see anything.”

“No can do. I’ve sworn an oath to uphold the law.”

Jason shook his head with exasperation and admiration. The woman was a spitfire determined to do the right thing. He couldn’t blame her. But she had no idea what kind of hornet’s nest she’d stumbled into.

That meant it was up to Jason to keep Detective Carlucci safe.

At an early age Terri Reed discovered the wonderful world of fiction and declared she would one day write a book. Now she is fulfilling that dream and enjoys writing for Steeple Hill. Her second book, A Sheltering Love, was a 2006 RITA ®Award Finalist and a 2005 National Readers’ Choice Award Finalist. Her book Strictly Confidential, book five of the Faith at the Crossroads continuity series, took third place in the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award, and Her Christmas Protector took third place in 2008. She is an active member of both Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers. She resides in the Pacific Northwest with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children and an array of critters. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, gardening and playing with her dogs.

You can write to Terri at P.O. Box 19555, Portland, OR 97280. Visit her on the Web at www.loveinspiredauthors.com, leave comments on her blog at www.ladiesofsuspense.blogspot.com or e-mail her at terrireed@sterling.net.

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They shall call my name, and I will hear them;

I will say, it is my people; and they shall say,

The Lord is my God.

—Zechariah 13:9

Though writing is a solitary endeavor nothing is done in a vacuum. Thank you Leah, Lissa and Ruth for walking through this with me. Thank you to my editors Emily Rodmell and Tina James for believing in this story and in me.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

January

“Agent down!” Immigration and Customs Enforcement Special Agent Jason Buchett yelled as he scrambled on hands and knees across the hard-packed earth of the New Mexico desert to reach his fellow agent and best friend, Garrett Smyth.

The light of the full moon revealed blood gushing from a neck wound just above the flak vest guarding Garrett’s chest. The well-aimed shot was meant to inflict both pain and death. A fact pounding through Jason’s horrified mind as he applied pressure to the wound. Sticky, warm liquid oozed between his fingers.

All around them the exchange of gunfire rang in the night air, friendly fire from the agents advancing and enemy fire from Picard’s men coming from the windows and recesses of the large villa outlined by the moon’s glow.

Jason and Garrett were part of the team sent in to raid the elusive illegal arms dealer’s fortress.

And they’d been expected.

The latest intel suggested that their primary target wasn’t even there. This had all been for nothing.

“Come on, Garrett, don’t do this to me. You gotta hang on!”

Garrett’s tanned, hard-lined face showed pain but he managed a weak smile. “Yeah, make it about you.”

“Not today, brother. Today it’s about you living. You have to live!”

Jason’s heart twisted. Terror throbbed in his veins. He couldn’t lose his friend.

Please, Lord, spare him. I’ll do anything, anything You ask!

Garrett had been Jason’s anchor during the rough years of his mother’s illness and death. And after Serena had broken off their engagement, Garrett had pulled Jason out of the bottle, effectively saving not only his career, but his life.

The light in Garrett’s blue eyes dimmed, sending fresh panic and despair roaring over Jason. “Garrett!”

“Keep up the good fight,” Garrett said, his voice warbled. “I’ll see you in Heaven.”

“Garrett, don’t you die!”

Garrett’s eyes closed and his body seemed to sigh as he went limp in Jason’s arms. Death claimed him.

Jason hung his head. Tears of sorrow and rage gathered in his eyes. The burn of a building roar of anguish tore through his chest. Ignoring the risk to his own life, he threw back his head and let loose an agonizing sound until his dry throat hurt.

In a voice filled with determination and fire, he vowed, “No matter how long it takes or what it costs, I will bring down Felix Picard!”

The only trouble was he didn’t have an ID on Picard.

He had absolutely nothing.

June

The setting sun decorated the sky over the ocean with streaks of red, gold and hints of the midnight that would soon overtake the perfect powder-blue of a summer day in Florida. Light bounced off the waters of the Gulf of Mexico and bathed Homicide Detective Angie Carlucci’s restless nature in soothing warmth. She didn’t mind the humidity she’d been warned about.

Staring out at the serene horizon, she searched for signs of the brewing storm the weatherman had predicted. There were none that she could see.

Sitting on the deck of her aunt’s vacation cottage a stone’s throw from the shelled beach of Loribel Island, she tried to unwind against the cushioned backrest of a wooden Adirondack chair and propped her feet on the railing. Inactivity made her antsy.

There wasn’t even a television to veg out in front of. And no cable even if she wanted to buy a TV. She’d already tried going online. But noooo. No Internet. Not even a wireless connection she could piggyback on. At least her cell phone picked up a random signal now and again. The roaming charges were going to be murder on her phone bill.

She let out a long-suffering sigh and wiggled her red-tipped toenails, the result of her mother’s insistence she have a spa day before leaving Boston on vacation.

Angie had to admit she rather liked the way the polish made her feet look. Small and dainty. So unlike how she normally felt.

Bored, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply of the fresh salty air, tasting the brine of the ocean, savoring the feel of moisture and heat on her skin.

Come on, relax.

The problem was she didn’t see any purpose in a vacation. So she worked more hours than needed, so she didn’t have a social life to speak of, that didn’t mean she wasn’t content with her life. It was everyone around her who thought she needed to take time off.