Fearless. Diana Palmer

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      MILLS & BOON

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      In memoriam:

       James M. Rea, Attorney-at-Law

       My first boss

      Contents

      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

      1

      “I WON’T GO,” GLORYANNE Barnes muttered.

      Tall, elegant Detective Rick Marquez just stared at her, his dark eyes unyielding. “Hey, don’t go. No problem. We’ve got a body bag just your sized own at the medical examiner’s office.”

      She threw a wadded up piece of paper across the desk at him.

      He caught it with one lean hand and raised an eyebrow. “Assault on a peace officer…”

      “Don’t you quote the law to me,” she shot back, rising. “I can cite legal precedents from memory.”

      She came around the desk slowly, thinner than she usually was, but still attractive in her beige suit. Her skirt flowed to midcalf, above small feet in ankle-strapped high heels that flattered what showed of her legs. She perched herself on the edge of the desk. Her high cheekbones were faintly flushed from temper, and something more worrying. She had very long, light blond hair which she wore loose, so that it fell in a cascade down her back almost to her waist. She had pale green eyes and a wide forehead, with a perfect bow of a mouth under her straight nose. She never wore makeup and didn’t need to. Her complexion was flawless, her lips a natural mauve. She wouldn’t win any beauty contests, but she was attractive when she smiled. She didn’t smile much these days.

      “I won’t be any safer in Jacobsville than I am here,” she said, trotting out the same old tired argument she’d been using for the past ten minutes.

      “You will,” he insisted. “Cash Grier is chief of police. Eb Scott and his ex-mercenary cronies live there, as well. It’s such a small town that any outsider will be noticed immediately.”

      She was frowning. Her eyes, behind the trendy frames of the glasses she occasionally wore in place of contact lenses for extreme nearsightedness, were thoughtful.

      “Besides—” he played his trump card “—your doctor said…”

      “That’s not your business.” She cut him off.

      “It is if you drop dead on your desk!” he said, driven to indiscretion by her stubbornness. “You’re the only witness we’ve got to what Fuentes said! He could kill you to shut you up!”

      Her lips made a thin line. “I’ve had death threats ever since I got out of college and took a job here as an assistant district attorney,” she replied. “It goes with the work.”

      “Most people don’t mean it literally when they threaten to kill you,” he returned. “Fuentes does. Do I really have to remind you what happened to your co-worker Doug Lerner two months ago? Better yet, would you like to see the autopsy photos?”

      “You don’t have any autopsy photos that I haven’t already seen, Detective Marquez,” she said quietly, folding her arms across her firm, small breasts. “I’m not really shockable.”

      He actually groaned out loud. His hands moved into his pockets, allowing her a glimpse of the .45 automatic he carried on his belt. His black hair, almost as long as hers, was gathered in a ponytail at his nape. He had jet-black eyes and a flawless olive complexion, not to mention a wide, sensuous mouth. He was very good-looking.

      “Jason said he’d get me a bodyguard,” she said when the silence grew noticeable.

      “Your stepbrother has his own problems,” he replied. “And your stepsister, Gracie, would be no help at all. She’s so scatterbrained that she doesn’t remember where she lives half the time!”

      “The Pendletons have been good to me,” she defended them. “They hated my mother, but they liked me.”

      Most people had hated her mother, a social-climbing antisocial personality who’d been physically abusive to Glory since her birth. Glory’s father had taken her to the emergency room half a dozen times, mumbling about falls and other accidents that left suspicious bruises. But when one bout of explosive temper had left her with a broken hip, the authorities finally stepped in. Glory’s mother was charged with child abuse and Glory testified against her.

      By that time, Beverly Barnes was already having an affair with Myron Pendleton and he was a multimillionaire. He got her a team of lawyers who convinced a jury that Glory’s father had caused the injury that her mother had given her, that Glory had lied out of fear of her father. The upshot was that the charges against Beverly were dropped. Glory’s father, Todd Barnes, was arrested and tried for child abuse and convicted, despite Glory’s tearful defense of him. But even though her mother was exonerated, the judge wasn’t convinced that Glory would be safe with her. In a surprise move, Glory went into state custody, at the age of thirteen. Her mother didn’t appeal the decision.

      When Beverly subsequently married Myron Pendleton, at his urging, she tried to get custody of Glory again. But the same judge who’d heard the case against Glory’s father denied custody to Beverly. It would keep the child safe, the judge said.

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