Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Dana Mentink (good fiction books to read .txt) 📕

on foot, but how could she get anywhere with her ankles taped together? She’d need to come up with a better scheme than that.

She didn’t get the chance.

“Hands behind you, back to the pole.”

“What? Why?”

“Do it.”

“And if I don’t?”

She pointed the gun at Laney’s belly. “Please don’t make me.”

A ball of terror exploded, leaving her dizzy. Her baby…their baby. She had no choice but to comply. Hardly able to draw breath, she backed up to the pole and Irene fastened zip ties around her wrists, securing her to the pole.

“I figure Beckett might need proof that you’re okay before he hands over the stuff. If he forces my hand, I’ll bring him close enough to see you before…”

Before she killed him, then her.

“Don’t hurt Beckett,” she screamed as Irene walked away. “Haven’t you done enough to him already?”

Irene stopped for a moment. Then she continued to walk away without looking back.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Jude pulled on a rubber glove, reading from the note Rita had fastened to the papers.

Beckett,

I am sorry. I decided I don’t want to be involved anymore. I will call you to tell you where I hid this packet, but if something goes wrong, I hope you’ll find it.

The short story is, I ran into Pauline by chance at the drugstore in our hometown. She was photocopying papers, worried, stressed. They spilled all over the floor and she scooped them up and ran. I got only a peek while I helped her gather them, enough to see a doctor’s name and make out that it was screenshots of a chart, two copies of each. I didn’t think much of it, but when Pauline was murdered, I paid closer attention. I wondered if she’d copied two sets of that screenshot before she confronted whoever killed her; blackmail, I guessed, with a dose of caution.

No papers or photos were found in her possession or her home, according to the police, so that made me think she’d stashed them someplace. What better location than a tiny hotel in the middle of a great big desert? I already told you I had dreams of becoming the hotshot reporter, breaking the Pauline Sanderson story wide open. Well, I found the papers, all right, behind the wardrobe in Pauline’s room, plus a bonus supply of prescription drugs I assume to be destined for the black market. I knew Doc Irene was the killer. Who would have thought that?

I was on my way to show you the bundle when I overheard you two telling Irene that you thought I was looking for the proof. I lost my nerve right then. I am sure Irene caused the fire in my hotel room. That was enough for me. Between Kenny and Irene, I am hanging up my investigative hat. Hopefully, I will be calling you with this info. If not, then I hope you will find it someday on your own. You don’t deserve what happened to you. Neither did Pauline.

Rita

Jude shook his head. “Rita didn’t make it out of town fast enough. Irene must have driven her off the road after she left the auto shop.”

“That would explain why Irene missed her morning appointments.”

“Forced her into her trunk and restrained her somehow, but she managed to get that call out to you. Later that night, Irene drove her to the woods and killed her, left her car there and your hat.”

Jude took photos of the papers and the pills, eased them back into the envelope and slid it into a plastic bag from his back pocket. When he laid it on the seat, Beckett snatched it up.

Jude frowned and offered a manila envelope instead. He grabbed some old maps from Beckett’s truck and shoved them inside. “The heft will fool her for a few moments. Figured you wouldn’t want to hand over the real proof, right? The pictures are only a backup. We’ll want the originals and the pills to make the case against her.”

“If she suspects, she might bolt without telling us where Laney is.”

Jude stared out the window at the long, flat road ahead. “Beck, you know that Irene might have killed her already.”

“No,” he grated out. “I don’t believe that. I can’t. Laney is her insurance that I will hand over the packet.”

“I need you to be prepared. We cannot hand over this proof. If we do, two murders might go unpunished.”

And possibly a third and fourth, if Irene killed Laney and the baby. He gritted his teeth.

“I’ve got the park police on standby,” Jude added. “If Irene gets away, we’ll dispatch search teams and helicopters. They’ll find Laney. It’s what they do.”

He shook his head. “I will give Irene anything she wants to protect my wife and baby.”

“You can’t do that. Unless we get that proof, you’ll never be free of suspicion.”

“I don’t care. They have to live and thrive. That’s it. That’s all.”

“They will,” he said quietly.

If it isn’t too late already, Beckett read in his tone. His phone buzzed and he snatched it.

“I’ll meet you on the Salt Pan trail,” Irene said. “Turn off your car and get out and stand in the middle of the path. You’d better be alone.”

“I want to talk to…”

“Do it.” The connection ended.

Beckett felt dizzy with fear.

“That location gives her easy access to the main road,” Jude said. “She’s probably planning to kill you both and take off, not stick around and let Laney go.”

“Her plan’s gonna change.” His body felt as though it was slowly becoming stone. He could endure anything, survive any pain or physical trauma, whatever, if Laney and the baby lived.

Jude held out a palm. “Beck, you have to give me the proof.”

Beckett shook his head. “Do what you have to, Jude. Arrest me—this time I deserve it maybe for disobeying the law, but I am asking you to give me the chance to save my family. Will you give me that, cousin?”

The only sound for a long moment was the wind blowing grit against the windshield. Jude shifted in