“The decoys aren’t what they seem.”
When a gunshot victim dies in front of Betsy Michaels, his last words make her a killer’s next target. The undercover agent investigating the murder is none other than Mark Webber, the man who’d broken her heart. Now she has to trust him with her life.
Mark feels duty bound to protect Betsy from the drug smugglers responsible for his partner’s death. Yet every time he looks at her, he’s reminded of the choices he made that hurt Betsy to the core. And despite their rekindled attraction, this time the danger isn’t just to their hearts.
The near accident with the car had left Betsy with more than a few scrapes and scratches. Her skin prickled in fear at the thought that she’d almost been run over.
She’d never felt that scared before, and she hoped she never would again. Her inability to respond to the immediate danger baffled her. Why hadn’t she jumped out of the way instead of standing in the street like a frightened animal, not knowing which way to turn? If it hadn’t been for Mark, she might be dead now.
She stopped at the door of Mark’s car and stared back at him. No matter what she thought about Mark on a personal level, she had to admit his law enforcement training had served him well. He had reacted like a trained professional, and she owed him a debt of gratitude. Maybe her gratitude would help her overcome the hurt he’d inflicted on her in the past. Then again, maybe nothing could change how she felt. Only time would tell.
SANDRA ROBBINS
a former teacher and principal in the Tennessee public schools, is a full-time writer for the Christian market. She is married to her college sweetheart, and they have four children and five grandchildren. As a child, Sandra accepted Jesus as her Savior and has depended on Him to guide her throughout her life.
While working as a principal, Sandra came in contact with many individuals who were so burdened with problems that they found it difficult to function in their everyday lives. Her writing ministry grew out of the need for hope that she saw in the lives of those around her.
It is her prayer that God will use her words to plant seeds of hope in the lives of her readers. Her greatest desire is that many will come to know the peace she draws from her life verse, Isaiah 40:31. “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint.”
Fatal Disclosure
Sandra Robbins
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace,
whose mind is stayed on thee: because he
trusteth in thee. Trust ye in the Lord forever:
for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.
—Isaiah 26:3–4
To my family,
whose encouragement keeps me writing
Contents
ONE
A shriek much like the distress cry of a black-crowned night heron pierced the morning quiet.
Atop one of the tall sand dunes at Springer’s Point, Betsy Michaels turned from studying the ocean below and peered behind her at the gnarled oaks of the maritime forest, the last one on Ocracoke Island. A shout from somewhere beyond the forest’s edge echoed on the cold wind, and she squinted at the sandy trail leading back through the trees.
She listened for a few seconds and then relaxed. It was only the wind blowing through the trees. She turned back toward the ocean but whirled around again when the crack of two rapid gunshots split the early morning air.
Anger replaced the fear she’d felt moments ago. Guns weren’t allowed in the 120-acre protected sanctuary of the North Carolina Coastal Land Trust. She unzipped her fanny pack and pulled out her cell phone. Before she could punch in the number of the Ocracoke sheriff’s office, a man stumbled from the thick growth of the forest and reeled toward her.
Blood covered the front of his shirt. He held out a hand toward her. Terrified, Betsy took a step backward. The man hobbled another step before he sank to his knees. “P-please…” he mumbled “…h-help me.”
Betsy hesitated a moment, then rushed forward. Horrified, she grabbed his arms and eased him to the ground.
“I’ll call the sheriff’s office for help.” She punched in the first number of the island headquarters where her brother and brother-in-law worked as deputies.
He grimaced with pain and tried to raise his head. “Caught