Dangerous Secrets Series by RM Alexander Book Tour and Giveaway :)
Never Again
Dangerous
Secrets Book 0.5
by
RM Alexander
Genre:
Romantic Suspense
Failure
isn't an option…
Ken
Shepherd's witness is murdered, leaving him to want more than just to
arrest the criminals and walk away. A career change to the Witness
Security Program gives the opportunity to help people who made bad
decisions find a second chance. But will high expectations lead to
happiness or is death lurking around the corner? Never isn't as far
as it seems in this action-packed prequel to the Dangerous Secrets
series.
Rush
hour. Why did it have to be rush hour?
Ken
Shepherd groaned as he darted and zagged through the Denver traffic,
horn blaring as he screeched by passing cars. Nearby drivers swerved
in a panic as he tore past, but they didn't have a reason to be
afraid. Specialized training taught him how to drive, and how to stay
cool under pressure. He
zipped in between a gray sedan and navy van. No problem with the
driving although he felt anything but cool. Instead, perspiration
beaded his forehead as Ken checked the time. It'd been ten minutes
since the call came through, and every passing second could be the
difference between life and death for the witness.
How
things got so out of control… Local patrol had been assigned to
keep Nate Dunnican safe. If he died, someone would have to answer for
the failure. Ken's
eyes narrowed, questions playing over in his mind. Why he got the
call was a mystery, and how Nate got the private number a bigger one.
Ken wasn't the man's attorney or his protector. As an FBI agent,
Ken's job had been arresting Nate, bringing him in to face the
charges. From there, Nate's case had been turned over to other agents
who arranged for him to rat on his organized crime buddies. So why
would he come back to Ken? Ken's
jaw set in a cold, hard line. It didn't matter. The call didn't
bother him nearly as much as the fear in Nate's voice.
"I'm
going to die," he had said, "I'll die if you don't come
here now." Something
in the words screamed of truth: the desperate, raw kind that ripped
at a man's core and stripped him bare. The chill clung to his
bones and, though Ken knew he shouldn't care, no one would ignore
that kind of terror. Ken
sped through the last red light, gritted his teeth, glanced at the
clock again. Fifteen minutes since the call. Nate hadn't said if
anyone else was in the house, or where the threat was coming from,
but fifteen minutes was long if someone wanted to kill him. The turn
of a dime, a single second, and the key witness would be dead. If he
made it time, Ken thought, the plan was to get Nate through the
night. After the trial, Nate would leave the city for good. Ken
gripped the steering wheel. Agents thought the substantial risk of
bringing him back to New York could be managed. Clearly, they were
wrong. A
mixer truck barreled into the intersection and Ken tore at the wheel
as he swerved and narrowly missed a collision. He grumbled and
stomped the gas pedal as he glanced in the rearview mirror. The truck
skidded to a stop behind him and avoided hitting another car by a
fraction of an inch. Any other time, Ken would have stopped and
checked on everyone, but there was no time for that now. Nate
waited. Ken
pulled into the post-war neighborhood. For the most part, a quiet
suburb with little crime. A decent place to hide a safe house where
witnesses could feel a sense of security. But there were always
exceptions to every rule, and Ken searched for hints of those
exceptions as he raced past two blocks of homes. The
car jolted forward as Ken threw it into park in front of a tiny brick
bungalow. He glanced around. No one on the streets, no apparent
threat. He pulled the sidearm from his holster and stepped onto the
sidewalk. The small brick home appeared quiet enough. Maybe Nate
panicked with what he was about to do the next day in coming
face-to-face with men who would rather he was dead than ever see the
inside of a courtroom. It was a possibility. Ken
headed up the walkway, careful, gun in hand. His long legs took the
two concrete steps in one stride to a small, open porch. Back against
the brick exterior, Ken peeked through one window into a small living
room furnished sparsely with a couple of lawn chairs and a small
television. No people. He shimmied a few inches to another window.
Empty dining room littered with clothes, garbage, no furniture, no
people. Ken
knocked on the door, "FBI. Open the door." No answer.
"Nate, open the door or I'm coming in." He
waited for an answer, then kicked open the door, the molding
splintering from around the deadbolt. Passing
the two front rooms he viewed through the front windows, Ken rounded
the corner into a galley kitchen as a gun fired. Nate Dunnican
dropped to the floor at Ken's feet, gray matter and blood spraying
the kitchen. Ken fell back behind the wall. "FBI, drop the
weapon!" No
response.
Ken
eased around the corner and met the even gaze of a man in his early
twenties, far older and meaner in street years. Dressed in sagging
jeans and a black shirt, he was nothing more than a street runner
doing the dirty work for an organization he didn't understand. "Drop
the weapon!" The
man responded with narrowed eyes and an icy grin, then raised the gun
level with Ken's chest. Ken
opened fire and the man sunk to the floor with a vacant stare. He
raced to Nate's side. There was no reason to think the witness may be
alive, but Ken knelt and pressed two fingers against the carotid
artery. No pulse. He sunk to the floor next to the body and shook his
head. The young man was dead. All hope for a better future stolen by
a single bullet and a lifestyle the average American fought hard to
bury under the carpet. Sirens
blared outside the home and Ken stood, backed away from the body and
returned to the sparse living room. With hands in his pockets, Ken
shook his head. He should have waited for backup. Not that additional
man power would have saved Nate, but protocol was protocol for a
reason. The boss was going to have a good firm slap on the wrist
ready when he returned to the office. He
glanced down at Nate's body, and then at the man lying opposite of
the witness. Two young lives, extinguished. Now the first responders
would take over, sort through the why's and how's, and what happened
next. For
his part, he'd go to court and testify the witness died. With Nate
gone, the mafia would slink back into the shadows, pull more young,
impressionable children into a life of guns and money and death.
Trapped. Ken
provided the customary statement and left the house in time for the
coroner to carry out two body bags. A
slow ride back to the office gave Ken a chance to think. Reflect.
Nate Dunnican could have been better protected than the services
provided by local police. Witness Security would have been a far
better option, one no one ever brought to the table. But,
as he pulled into the U.S. Marshal parking lot, Ken's mind shifted
from Nate to a decision he'd toyed with in the past. Investigating
and arresting criminals was a challenge but not as fulfilling as he'd
thought it would have been when he entered the bureau ten years
earlier. He yearned to make a difference, to see witnesses like Nate
Dunnican have a fighting chance to start over. To have better
options. Maybe
it was time for a career change.
Until Tomorrow
Dangerous
Secrets Book 1
When
everything is taken from you, all you have left is what comes
next...
The
perfect career became the perfect nightmare. Now the only solution is
for Colton Paine to leave his life behind to enter the Witness
Security Program. Though he has many regrets, abandoning Savana
Wyler, just as she's entering remission from cancer—and before he
has a chance to tell her he loves her—rips his heart out. But
Colton will do whatever it takes to protect her, even leave
forever.
Relocated
to a tiny northern Washington tourist town, Colton fights to regain
his footing in a new life constructed of lies. Haunted by thoughts of
Savana, he breaks the rules and keeps track of her. When the same
people who want him dead appear on Savana's news broadcasts, it
becomes clear leaving wasn't the answer.
Convinced
Savana is left unprotected, Colton abandons WitSec in a desperate
attempt to save her. But did his impetuous actions endanger them
both?
Tomorrow
was never more uncertain.
Colton
sat at the table with a pen in hand and glanced at the duffel bag
waiting at the door. Precious time ticked away—if he was going to
leave, every second mattered. The explosion minutes before ensured
law enforcement would be banging on the door soon and, once they
came, there would be no getting away.
With
a heavy breath, he placed pen to the paper, and then lifted it off.
Going home could mean death, but as he tapped the pen on the table,
other options seemed limited. With a heavy breath, he quickly
scribbled down the words he would leave behind.
I
consider myself a smart man. Not brilliant. Not Ivy League,
genius-scoring, Einstein-equal kind of smart, but, you know. Smart.
I
also consider myself a good man who admits to making mistakes. I
became involved with the wrong people, was driven by the buck. And
the biggest mistake I made was putting those I love in danger. That,
and never telling her I loved her before it was too late.
We
do that, don't we? We never realize the importance of someone or
something in our lives until that someone is gone. There's a reason
that parable exists.
And
if you want me to be completely honest with you, I do have regrets. I
regret ever meeting Red, ever seeing the dollar signs instead of the
questions, or his reasons for coming to someone so freshly assigned
to managing accounts. I regret my ego driving the bus instead of my
head. But I don't regret anything as much as I regret not telling her
I loved her.
Just
don't tell anyone else I said so.
Colton
folded the paper in half and left it on the table, stared at it for a
couple seconds with consideration. A chance existed that the wrong
person would find the note. There was some risk in leaving the note
behind.
Good
thing he was a gambling man.
He hurried to the door, snatched the bag from the floor, and ran outside to the canoe.
He hurried to the door, snatched the bag from the floor, and ran outside to the canoe.
RM Alexander is an author of romantic suspense. With driven characters who suffer the worst kinds of betrayals, RM's novels promise a good read with unexpected twists and turns.
When
she's not writing, RM spends time with her husband and two children.
She loves to travel, especially to Walt Disney World, and is addicted
to orange juice and Ghiradelli chocolate. She is often found on
Twitter and Facebook chatting with other authors and readers.
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