Her Christmas Protector. Geri Krotow
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Her Christmas Protector - Geri Krotow страница 6

Название: Her Christmas Protector

Автор: Geri Krotow

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Короткие любовные романы

Серия: Silver Valley P.D.

isbn: 9781474036283

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ her practice had been murdered two weeks ago, simply because she was a woman and a Protestant minister, Zora had known she had to take the mission. Louise had been seeing her for over a year and had been the kind of woman Zora hoped to become. Wise. Compassionate. Generous.

      Her killer could not go unpunished.

      Forcing herself to ease her grip on the wheel, Zora looked out over the dark and quiet farm fields that surrounded the property she’d chosen to make home two years ago. The area had promised safety, a place to stop running. The farmhouse had fit her desire for a slower pace of life, a respite from the grind that a military career demanded.

      Bryce’s presence, his stare, had unnerved her earlier. Of course she’d recognized him immediately—he’d been the only boy she’d ever let get close to her when she’d moved to Silver Valley as a twelve-year-old. Make that the only person, save her adoptive parents.

      Her real parents.

      And then she’d let Bryce down, broken their childhood friendship in the worst way. She’d left Silver Valley and never spoke to him again. Complete silence, no explanations. It’d been too risky to let him into her life completely. She’d believed she was protecting him from the worst parts of herself. She’d entered the naval academy without a backward glance at Silver Valley or Bryce.

      Until tonight. He’d matured, grown handsome as she’d known he would. Seeing him again made her wonder why she’d been so awful to him, why she hadn’t at least written to him over the years and apologized for her behavior. It always came back to the fact that she’d never explained why she’d left the way she had. Revealing her reasons would mean revealing her past. And that would be too painful, too complicated.

      By his reaction tonight she knew he still remembered her on some level. He might not have figured out it was her under the wig and bulky bulletproof vest, but she had no doubt that he would, eventually.

      He’d remember.

      Bryce had always figured out what was bothering her, how to make her laugh on an otherwise dreary winter day during high school exam week. He’d been the best friend a girl like her could have hoped for—funny, kind and respectful. He’d never made her feel he wanted to be any more than friends even when the sexual pressures of their teenage years had confronted them on a daily basis.

      The headlights swept her long driveway as she drove up to her old, small farmhouse. She noted that her front porch light was out. She hadn’t had to change a bulb since she’d moved here, and seeing the darkness of the porch gave her the creeps. She parked and opted to walk around the well-lit right side of her house to use the back entrance. She had no close neighbors so she didn’t have to worry about explaining her wig. It was one of the many advantages of buying a home outside of a conventional development.

      The back of the house was dark, too, and she waved her arm high to activate the motion detector light.

      Nothing happened. No light.

      Butternut’s sharp bark from within the house made her stop in her tracks. The German shepherd never barked when she came home. And those weren’t playful barks—Butternut was trying to warn her.

      A twig snapped in the inky night in front of her an instant before something slammed into her chest, throwing her backward into darkness.

      * * *

      Bryce ran the rest of the way up the dirt driveway to the farmhouse. His gut had told him tonight wasn’t going to go smoothly, and it wasn’t only because he suspected Colleen Hammermill wasn’t who she said she was.

      He’d heard gunshots while he was on duty exactly four times in his ten years with the SVPD. Two were when hunters had been in an off-limits area and one was when he’d fired his own weapon to take out a convenience store robber who’d shot a cashier and then pointed his gun at Bryce.

      The fourth was ten seconds ago, in the dark fields surrounding the farmhouse he’d followed Colleen Hammermill to. Superintendent Todd had given him her address when he’d texted him after the ceremony.

      “Need backup, Cherry Creek and Skyline Drive. The old Shropesbury farm.”

      He shoved his phone back into his chest pocket and kept running, weapon drawn. He’d explain to his boss later why he’d made the decision to follow the “chaplain” home.

      The house was dark but the side of the structure was lit as a dog barked incessantly, probably inside. He scanned the surroundings as he approached but found no one near the house. No one running away, either.

      A still figure lying on the ground came into view as he crested the top of the drive. Sirens grew closer but they weren’t here yet. He did a rapid check of the shrubs and trees around the house for an assailant.

      Once he was satisfied there wasn’t a shooter in the immediate vicinity, he went to help the chaplain. Backup would scour the woods around the farm later. She was conscious but looked confused as she struggled to sit up.

      “Hang on, are you hit?”

      A pale, feminine hand brushed her chest at heart level.

      “My vest...”

      “I’ve got it.” He lifted her school jacket up, revealing a tight-fitting T-shirt underneath. It was stretched over a bulletproof vest.

      Holy shit. No way was this woman only a minister.

      The glint of metal peeked from a hole in the shirt. The shooter had aimed for her heart.

      “You’re okay. You still have your Kevlar on. Good going.” He eased her back and was relieved she didn’t fight him. She had to be on the verge of being in shock and the EMTs couldn’t get here soon enough as far as he was concerned.

      As he laid her back, her red hair caught his eye, right at her temples. Where her wig was sliding off.

      Her wig.

      He removed it the rest of the way. Thick, lustrous red hair spilled into his hands.

      “Zora.” He breathed out her name before he could stop himself.

      “Bryce, I’m undercover.”

      “For who?”

      She closed her eyes, shielding him from the pale green irises he remembered too well.

      She stayed silent, but was still breathing.

      Did the shooter want “Colleen the chaplain” dead, or the girl—no, woman—he’d once dreamed of spending the rest of his life with?

      * * *

      “You don’t need to know what she was doing, Bryce. All you need to know is that she helped us draw out the Female Preacher Killer. Unfortunately, we didn’t catch him.” Superintendent Colt Todd spoke matter-of-factly, refusing to answer Bryce’s questions.

      “We’re still not certain if it’s a he or she, and I disagree, Superintendent Todd. This is my assignment and that was my patrol last night. I have a right to know who’s working with me.”

      “You know as well as I do that there are some cases we need a little extra help on, Bryce. And I appreciate СКАЧАТЬ