Susan Sleeman - Thread of Suspicion

FALSELY ACCUSED!

When someone sabotages former navy SEAL Luke Baldwin’s “unhackable” software, there’s more than his reputation at stake. Faced with treason charges, Luke turns to Dani Justice, a computer expert and skilled investigator. She’s eager to dive into the challenging case…until she uncovers a devastating connection. The hacker framing Luke has a personal, deadly history with Dani. Luke’s code of honor and his growing feelings make him resolved to protect the sweet, strong woman he knows is more vulnerable than she’d admit. But what good is his training or determination against an enemy who can hack into any system and find them wherever they hide?

The Justice Agency: Family and law enforcement go hand in hand

“What are the chances that the police will have the hacked computer?” Luke asked.

“Very low, and—” Dani paused to meet his gaze to ensure he was listening “—even if we do find it, I have no proof that you didn’t use this laptop then discard it yourself.”

He fisted his hands. “Then what do you need to clear my name?”

Good question. “At this point, I don’t see anything that will clear your name short of finding the real hacker.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat. He peered at Dani, and the agony in his eyes made her draw in a breath at his vulnerability. She should probably heed the evidence or lack of evidence, but despite nothing pointing to his innocence, she didn’t think he was guilty.

Or was she just hoping that the man who sparked something inside her that she’d thought long dead was innocent of a terrible crime like treason?

SUSAN SLEEMAN

grew up in a small Wisconsin town where she spent her summers reading Nancy Drew and developing a love of mystery and suspense books. Today she channels this enthusiasm into hosting the popular internet website TheSuspenseZone.comand writing romantic suspense and mystery novels.

Much to her husband’s chagrin, Susan loves to look at everyday situations and turn them into murder-and-mayhem scenarios for future novels. If you’ve met Susan, she has probably figured out a plausible way to kill you and get away with it.

Susan currently lives in Oregon, but has had the pleasure of living in nine states. Her husband is a church music director and they have two beautiful daughters, a very special son-in-law and an adorable grandson. To learn more about Susan, please visit www.SusanSleeman.com.

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To every thing there is a season and a time for every purpose under the heavens.

—Ecclesiastes 3:1

Acknowledgments

Thanks to:

My family—my husband, Mark, who doesn’t cringe when I ask for help.

My daughter Emma for helping me plot and edit this book, and Erin for your continued support.

Elizabeth Mazer—your insight and editing take my writing to the next level.

Ron Norris—retired police officer with the LaVerne Police Department. You provide me with police, weapon and military details on a timely basis. Any errors in or liberties taken with the technical details Ron so patiently provides are all my doing.

And most important, thank You, God, for reminding me that Your timing is always perfect.

To the brave men and women of the military. Thank you for your heroic service to our country.

Contents

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

EPILOGUE

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

Luke Baldwin’s training as a Navy SEAL warned him he was in trouble. To pay attention, be still and take precautions. But darkness clawed at his senses, keeping him from fully waking and heeding the warning.

Hoping to get his bearings, he concentrated on the sounds unfolding around him. Cars whizzed by. Horns honked. If he were home in bed where he should be, he’d hear the quiet of suburban life, not Portland’s bustling traffic.

Digging deeper, he managed to pry his eyes open and look around. He sat behind the wheel of his battered Jeep Wrangler tipped at an angle in the ditch with the hood pressed against an enormous Oregon pine. Thick underbrush had swallowed up his car and spindly pines swayed overhead in icy winds.

“What in the world?” He shook his head to clear his mind. Razor-sharp pain stabbed between his eyes. He let the lids fall, hoping to end the blinding intensity. Nausea curled his stomach and burned up his throat as the damp cold of winter seeped to his bones.

How had he ended up in the ditch?

C’mon, Baldwin, think.

He breathed deeply, letting oxygen rush to his brain and stem the nausea. Clarity tugged the edges of his mind, then suddenly it all came flooding back.

He’d been driving home in the wee hours of the morning to grab a quick shower before today’s demonstration of his company’s software. The roads were slick with rain, and fog hovered over the pavement. Driving too fast for the conditions, he’d felt his car start to slide. He’d pumped the brakes. The pedal had sunk to the floor with no resistance. His car had left the pavement, slipping into the ditch and ramming the tree. With no airbags, his head had slammed into the wheel and everything had gone black.

His ancient Jeep had failed him again. Of course it had. It was on its last legs and needed replacing. He should get a better car. One with reliable brakes and airbags. Not happening, though. He’d poured all of his money into his company.

Wait. Company. What time is it?

He glanced at his watch: 1030 hours.

No! Couldn’t be. He’d be late for the demonstration.

He released his belt and dug out his cell phone. Dead.

“No, no, no!” He pounded the wheel, the lancing pain slicing up his arm and into his already throbbing head.

Just what he deserved for failing his staff. His software company vied for a multimillion-dollar military contract today at 1100 hours. He could kiss the money and his company goodbye if he didn’t show up.

Not an option for a SEAL, even a former one.

He forced open his door, the bent metal groaning and creaking. He stumbled out. Rain spit from the gray winter skies, dampening his mood even more. He grabbed fistfuls of grass and pulled his aching body up to the winding road leading into Portland. He waved at cars, hoping to flag one down, but they sped past as if he were invisible. He’d have to hoof it down the hill to the coffee shop where he got his caffeine fix every morning. They knew him and would let him use their phone.

He hunched into his jacket to fight the wind whistling down the hill and jogged down the road. Ignoring the pain pulsing through his body, he settled into the zone he’d often found as a SEAL after silently dropping behind enemy lines. His mind floated free, and oddly, his father’s voice rang in his head.