Susan Peterson - Hard Evidence

Yeah, right, I thought. Lie number one. “Can’t say I feel the same way,” I said.

He ignored my dig. “I’m glad they found you. I was worried when I heard you were out trying to find some poor sucker who took a wrong turn.”

Lie number two. Jack O’Brien never worried about anything other than himself. “You’re not welcome here, O’Brien. Do us both a favor and leave.”

I’d hoped to see a flicker of hurt in those beautiful eyes, but none appeared. He stared back at me with the gaze that used to make my body hum with an all-consuming need.

“I simply came by to check up on Charlie.”

“So you checked. Time to leave.”

He raised a single dark eyebrow, but didn’t move. “You look good. Mountain air seems to agree with you,” he said, as if we exchanged such pleasantries every day. “Things going okay for you?”

“Just fine. Thanks ever so much for asking.”

He waited, the stillness of his body putting me even more on edge. I didn’t bother asking him how he’d been. There wasn’t any need. No one asked about the condition of perfection.

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

This July, Intrigue brings you six sizzling summer reads. They’re the perfect beach accessory.

* We have three fantastic miniseries for you. Film at Eleven continues THE LANDRY BROTHERS by Kelsey Roberts. Gayle Wilson is back with the PHOENIX BROTHERHOOD in Take No Prisoners. And B.J. Daniels finishes up her MCCALLS’ MONTANA series with Shotgun Surrender.

* Susan Peterson brings you Hard Evidence, the final installment in our LIPSTICK LTD. promotion featuring stealthy sleuths. And, of course, we have a spine-tingling ECLIPSE title. This month’s is Patricia Rosemoor’s Ghost Horse.

* Don’t miss Dana Marton’s sexy stand-alone title, The Sheik’s Safety. When an American soldier is caught behind enemy lines, she’ll fake amnesia to guard her safety, but there’s no stopping the sheik determined on winning her heart.

Enjoy our stellar lineup this month and every month!

Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For my brother, Sam, who has lived through adversity and pain and come through it with his honor and integrity intact.

May you find the peace, love and understanding you seek in this rough journey through life.

A special thanks to Christine Wenger for all her help with the “ins and outs” of Syracuse, New York. Any mistakes are purely the fault of the author’s.

A devoted Star Trek fan, Susan Peterson wrote her first science fiction novel at the age of thirteen. But as a hopeless romantic, Susan had to figure out a way to combine falling in love with a lifetime pursuit of total logic. After pursuing careers in intensive-care nursing and school psychology, Susan finally found the time to pursue a career in writing. An ardent fan of psychological thrillers and suspense, Susan combined her love of romance and suspense into several manuscripts targeted to the Harlequin Intrigue line. Getting the go-ahead to write for this line was a dream come true for her.

Susan lives in a small town in northern New York with her son, Kevin, her nutball dog, Ozzie, Phoenix the cat and Lex the six-toed menace (a new kitten). Susan loves to hear from readers. E-mail her at SusanPetersonHI@aol.com or visit her Web site at www.susanpeterson.net.

Jack O’Brien—An ex-cop turned paramedic, Jack harbors serious guilt about his testimony against his foster father on charges of bribery.

Killian “Chili Pepper” Cray—Shocked when her former flame Jack O’Brien testified against their beloved foster father, Killian left Syracuse and vowed never to return.

Charlie Orzinski—Beloved foster dad to troubled teens for much of his life, he is now in a deep coma following a suspicious hit-and-run accident.

Handler Ortega—Local crime boss who’ll do whatever it takes to get back vital information stolen from him regarding his criminal dealings.

Jeannette Renault—Former lover of Handler Ortega, and now married to a wealthy cardiac surgeon. Does this seemingly innocent suburbanite know more than she’s willing to tell?

Craig Gibson—Charlie’s lawyer, a man found murdered in Charlie’s apartment.

Caroline Pratt—Gibson’s law partner and known to represent Handler Ortega in a variety of shady legal matters.

Sweetie Pie—Charlie’s nasty, mangy Maine Coon cat. Now Killian’s responsibility.

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

Epilogue

If there was one thing I never expected to have to do in this lifetime, it was to stand over Charlie Orzinski and worry about whether he was going to live or die. Mainly because I’ve always believed Charlie was indestructible, the ultimate Man of Steel.

But the fact that he was in the I.C.U. of Crouse Hospital in Syracuse, N.Y., unconscious and hooked up to every machine known to modern man, showed me just how wrong I was. The trauma docs had given him less than a sixty-percent chance of survival.

Personally, I was betting Charlie had an ace or two up his sleeve, but something about the gray pallor of his craggy face told me death was a real possibility. And that was a possibility I wasn’t prepared for. One I’d never be prepared for.

I reached down and slid my hand into his. His stillness frightened me more than the machines clustered around the bed. They seemed to diminish him, making his massive body, with its bull neck and linebacker shoulders, look small and insignificant beneath the stark white of the hospital sheets.

According to the nurses, he hadn’t moved in three days. Not for the day it took the hospital staff and police to identify him and not the following two days it took them to contact the only people alive who truly loved him, a ragtag pack of former foster kids Charlie and his wife Claire had raised over the years.

I was the last of the kids to get word, mainly because they had to send someone into the backwoods of the Adirondack Mountains to reach me. As a deputy sheriff from Essex County, N.Y., I’d been out traipsing through the wilds of the Adirondacks, trying to locate some NYC hump who had escaped from Ray Brook Minimum Security Prison.

Most of us had figured the idiot had counted on heading back to the city and his woman, but somewhere along the line, he’d taken a wrong turn. A dangerous wrong turn. He’d ended up stumbling deeper and deeper into the remotest mountainous areas of the Upper Adirondacks.

Winter had hit the north country early and I had figured we’d find the poor SOB frozen to some tree, solid as a Good Humor Popsicle. He probably wouldn’t be worrying about how much time he had to serve back at the Ray Brook Country Club.