Running Target

She escaped right into danger...

A Coldwater Bay Intrigue novel

A routine patrol turns deadly when marine deputy Bree Carrington’s boat is sunk by men carrying illegal weapons. Fleeing a barrage of bullets, she’s suddenly rescued by DEA agent Quinn Strand—her ex-boyfriend. Quinn’s return threatens more than Bree’s heart…because he’s the one the men are really after. As criminals hunt her to get to him, can Quinn and Bree take down a drug ring?

ELIZABETH GODDARD is the award-winning author of more than thirty novels and novellas. A 2011 Carol Award winner, she was a double finalist in the 2016 Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense, and a 2016 Carol Award finalist. Elizabeth graduated with a computer science degree and worked in high-level software sales before retiring to write full-time.

Also by Elizabeth Goddard

Coldwater Bay Intrigue

Thread of Revenge

Stormy Haven

Distress Signal

Running Target

Texas Ranger Holidays

Texas Christmas Defender

Wilderness, Inc.

Targeted for Murder

Undercover Protector

False Security

Wilderness Reunion

Mountain Cove

Buried

Untraceable

Backfire

Submerged

Tailspin

Deception

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Running Target

Elizabeth Goddard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09640-9

RUNNING TARGET

© 2019 Elizabeth Goddard

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Quinn grabbed her. “Be careful.”

Was he worried about her sprained ankle, or warning her to keep away from him?

She stepped closer. She couldn’t help herself. She might never see him again. Never know if he survived the hit men after him. Bree could hardly breathe.

“Please, Quinn. Let me put you into protective custody.” Maybe she’d be the one to watch over him. Don’t even go there.

He grinned. How she’d always loved that grin. “Nice try, Bree. You know why I can’t.”

“I know what you’ve told me, but I think it’s just your excuse to stay in hiding. To keep people at a distance. To keep me at a distance.”

He leaned in closer. Once again her lungs stilled, but she didn’t need oxygen. She needed Quinn. But she would never let herself love him—he would only leave. He was leaving now.

“There’s no other way, Bree. If the men after me find out about you, that I care about you, then...”

Her pulse ratcheted up. She knew what he didn’t say.

She’d become a target.

Dear Reader,

I’m so glad you had the opportunity to read Running Target. I hope you enjoyed the story. The characters each had to make some hard choices that I hope you’ll be able to relate to, though maybe you haven’t been chased by drug runners with machine guns, or maybe you haven’t had to choose between your job and keeping someone you love safe. Still, the choices we face every day don’t seem all that much easier.

I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t know how to trust in the Lord. I pray if you don’t already trust in Him, that you’ll learn to do just that, and soon.

If you’d like to find out more about my books, you can visit my website at www.elizabethgoddard.com.

Many blessings!

Elizabeth Goddard

Deliver me from mine enemies, O my God: defend me from them that rise up against me.

—Psalms 59:1

To Jesus. You’re my all in all.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

“Don’t move!” Deputy Bree Carrington aimed her newly issued Glock 22 fifteen-round semiautomatic pistol at three men standing in the twenty-four-foot fishing boat.

Though she had the authority of the law behind her, and had trained for a day such as this, her palms slicked and heart pounded.

Inside, she shook.

Still, she allowed her training to kick in, keeping her weapon aimed and level. She never wanted to have to use it, but a sick feeling stirred in her gut—today could be the day when she would have no choice. She pointed the Glock at the three muscled men wearing scowls. Men who made the boat look too small. Men who carried more powerful weapons than she did. Powerful and illegal.

If they got their hands on those...

Well, she couldn’t let that happen.

On this hotter-than-usual summer day, sweat beaded at her temples and back.

Next to her, Deputy Jayce McBride tethered the vessels together.

Bree and Jayce had been patrolling the river when she’d spotted them—just three men out on a boat whose motor had failed on them.

Bree had headed toward them to assist, though the men had insisted they needed no help. But it gave her an excuse to stop and check them out. That’s when they had tried to hide that they were transporting illegal arms—machine guns. One guy had grown twitchy and thought he could grab a weapon and take her out. She’d been faster and held them all at gunpoint. If she hadn’t, both she and Jayce would be dead.

Now to keep them alive.

That sick feeling continued to churn her insides. This wasn’t the way the day was supposed to go.

Minutes before they’d seen the boat in distress, she’d been planning to turn around. It was Stevie’s birthday. He was turning five. She and Dad had planned a party.

Jayce, along with his wife of two years, Cindy, and their baby, Taylor, were coming, too.

Instead, she and Jayce were facing off with men who would kill them without a thought.

A chill crawled over her. These criminals had cold, brutal eyes. They were the kind she had never seen before in her line of work in Coldwater Bay. They didn’t have the expected look of fear or dread when confronted by law enforcement. Specifically, marine division deputies.

“You two—” she gestured toward the broken outboard motor “—get down on your knees and put your hands on your head.”

Jayce would have to step between the unsteady boats.

It wouldn’t take much for these guys to shake things up. Rock the boat. Jump into the river that was trying to carry their anchored boat away.

Jayce stepped across and then positioned himself behind the remaining man standing. Cuffed his hands behind his back. Carefully, Jayce ushered him across to the sheriff’s department boat and re-cuffed him to the rail so he couldn’t go anywhere.

Meanwhile, Bree kept her weapon aimed at the other two. She’d contacted Dispatch to report their status and tell them that she and Jayce were bringing the men in. She hadn’t asked for backup. Backup wouldn’t help them in this situation, so far from reinforcements. There were only five full-time marine division deputies, and one of them was off duty today. The other two were on the other side of the county.

She kept her breaths even and steady, staying calm despite the unusual circumstances. Most of the time patrolling the waters was a matter of keeping people safe—performing rescue operations or assisting vessels in distress—not arresting three men who were up to some seriously bad business. If she had to guess, it involved much more than transporting illegal arms. Drug dealers liked big guns, too.

Jayce positioned the second man so that he could cuff him, too. The man bolted to his feet and twisted around to head-butt Jayce. Blood spurted from Jayce’s nose.

They wrestled for the weapon and a shot was fired but missed both men. Still, the guy disarmed the deputy.

“Jayce!”

Bree’s heart slammed against her rib cage. She fired her weapon at the perp. He grabbed his midsection and dropped the gun, so Jayce picked it up. Her pulse roared in her ears—or was that the ringing sound triggered after firing the weapon?

The uncuffed man who had been sitting scrambled up behind Jayce and caught him off guard.

“Behind you!” She couldn’t get a shot in without hurting Jayce.

Before Jayce could react, the man took his weapon away from him and shot him point-blank. He fell back into the water.

Jayce!

Though stunned with profound grief, Bree fought off the shock that would make her immobile.

She fired her weapon at the shooter but missed. In return, he fired off multiple rounds at her as he tried to get to the front of the boat and the machine guns. She dived for cover behind the seat, which was not much cover at all. She couldn’t let him get to those guns or it would all be over.

He lunged for the machine guns and she stood to fire.

A shot landed against her chest. Pain exploded, despite the Kevlar she wore under her uniform. She’d bemoaned wearing the Kevlar on hot days, never expecting she’d need it or the life jacket she’d forsaken. She fell back into the river...

And sank beneath the surface. Held the shallow breath she’d caught while more bullets sprayed the water.

Machine gun bullets.

Snap out of it or you’re going to drown like your brother! His son, little Stevie, needs you!

The current carried her away from the boat and the spray of bullets.

Jayce had gone into the river, too. Was there any possibility he was still alive? He was also wearing Kevlar. She could hope. After all, like him, she’d been shot and was still alive. Somehow they both had to survive this.

Bree bobbed to the surface and sucked in a breath.

Why weren’t the men leaving? Why weren’t they escaping in the sheriff department’s boat to flee upriver?

A slow-dawning realization squeezed her lungs.

They were searching for her and Jayce, that’s why. They had to make sure the two deputies—the two witnesses—were dead and couldn’t describe the men who had attacked them.

The uninjured criminal freed the one man who had been cuffed and got their motor running, after all. Maybe they didn’t want to take time to transfer their stashed weapons. Either that or they didn’t want to be seen in a sheriff’s department boat and draw unwanted attention. The boat slowly headed downriver, the men searching the water for the deputies. Underwater, she fought the current and headed for a muddy eddy. Bree’s feet found purchase on the pebbled bottom. Catching her breath, she slid forward into the mud. Rolled in it to camouflage herself. She simply couldn’t swim away fast enough, even with the river current.

Fear strangled her, making it hard to breathe. Tears choked her throat. She kept her eyes closed as the boat approached. She heard the shouts.

“Find the woman deputy!”

“She’s dead. She can’t hurt us.”

“She isn’t dead. She was wearing a vest. I saw her come up for air. The man is dead. Forget him.”

Tears mingled with the mud on her face.

Oh, Jayce...

She should have prevented his death. If she’d handled this better, they would be taking in three men and possibly make it home in time for a birthday party. A milestone celebration.

No one would know what happened to them if she didn’t survive. Though it took colossal strength, she shook off her grief to be revisited when she was safely away from the murderers.

The sheriff’s department knew roughly where they were. But Bree couldn’t stay here and wait for the cavalry. She had to move deeper into the wilderness country. Another boat approached, and it wasn’t someone from the sheriff’s department. She feared for anyone approaching the men—their lives were at stake.

Then when she heard the conversation between them, she understood that those in the approaching boat were more of the same men. Partners in crime.

She held her breath and sank deeper into the mud.

Oh, God, help me!

From her hiding spot, she saw the men transferring to the bigger boat and carrying over the man she’d shot but hadn’t killed. She watched to see what they would do next. Oh, God, please just let them leave.

Two men hopped onto her boat, then back to the larger boat. They laughed and shouted. An explosion resounded. They’d blown a hole in the hull. Bree watched in horror as the boat she and Jayce had brought upriver sank. The evidence they’d even been here was now hidden away.

Then across the river, she spotted Jayce climbing up onto the riverbank. Her heart surged with hope. You’re alive.

He rolled over onto his back. Pressed his hand against his chest and to the side. It came away with—was that blood? He was injured, but the Kevlar had still likely saved his life, just like it had saved hers. Only she wasn’t bleeding from a bullet. They’d spot him if he didn’t move, and he wouldn’t live long if they saw him. They thought he was dead. She had to draw their attention away so they wouldn’t find him.

Bree drew in a couple of breaths. You can do this.

She rolled over and slowly crawled out of the mud. The boat was a mere twenty-five yards from her. Then she made a show of standing up, hoping they would spot her before she ran into the woods.

A shout resounded on the river.

It worked. She ran for cover as bullets pelted the trees. Her only chance was to put as much distance as she could between them, but more importantly, she would give Jayce a chance to survive. Since he was injured, his odds of survival were already slim, so Bree would draw the men away from him.

She ran until she was out of breath, then she dropped to her knees and crawled over rambling mossy roots, well-hidden for the moment within a copse of Sitka spruce and western hemlock. She leaned against a thick trunk and wiped the mud from her face with her arm.

Bree knew the rivers like she knew the lines on the palms of her hands. But the woods? The wilderness area? Not so much. Would her fellow deputies be able to find her? Would they even know the danger they faced in searching if Jayce wasn’t able to get to safety and warn them? Other deputies could get shot. Or worse. Die.

Either way, if he didn’t stop the bleeding, Jayce might die before he could get to safety or someone found him.

She tried her radio. The shot to her chest had somehow damaged it. Or was that the mud or water? Whatever the case, it wasn’t working. Her cell was on the sinking boat along with her Glock. It was more likely one of the men took it as their own. She had no weapon, no means of communication, a bleeding partner and no way out without putting more people in danger. As a deputy, she was a complete and utter failure.

Worst of all, this situation was completely her fault. Jayce was injured and they were both in mortal danger because of her decision to press on. Jayce had wanted to turn back as the day waned. Why hadn’t she listened?

Shouts drew her attention. Her heart rate jacked even higher.

They had left the boats and were hunting her.

Be safe, Jayce...

The tree canopy was thick, making the woods dark and eerie. Fury and a lot of fear pushed her from the trunk and she ran deeper into the thick temperate rain forest. The scent of pine and mossy earth enveloped her. She pushed off tree trunks as she trekked, propelling herself onward, and climbed over boulders, making her way up the mountain.

Daylight waned, and she’d soon run out of light.

Bree paused to catch her breath. Had she lost the men yet? She couldn’t take a chance and had to keep pushing to make her way to safety.

If she kept close to the river and followed it west, she would eventually find a town. But the way it twisted and turned through the mountains, that would take her twice as long as a straighter path toward Coldwater Bay.

What did she know? She knew the river, that’s what. Not the woods.

If only she could wait here for rescuers, but men were hunting her. That was out of the question.

She stumbled on a root and fell. Pain ignited, spreading through her ankle.

“Well, that’s just great,” she whispered. She wished she could shout, but she knew better than to give herself away.

She pushed to stand on it. Once again, pain knifed through her. She collapsed. Really?

Could things get any worse?

Bree let the tears come. The fear and the tears.

Either the men would locate and kill her, or she would die before she could make it out. No one would find her before it was too late. All that determination she thought she had crumbled as if detonated.

If those men knew how to track, then it wouldn’t be long before they found her. But she didn’t have to make it easy for them.

She pushed herself into a tree hollow. Brought her knees to her chest. Temporarily safe, she let the tears flow again and thought about her small family. Dad would be worried. He knew her job often kept her late, but she would never miss Stevie’s birthday party. At the very least, she would let him know what was going on if she was going to be late.

Oh, God, please let me make it out of this alive, for Stevie’s sake! He can’t lose someone else. Please help Jayce make it back to his family.

Bree’s sister-in-law, Stevie’s mom Narelle, had died in a car accident before he’d even turned a year old. That had nearly crushed them all, and she and Dad had rallied around the child and her brother, Steve.

But she would always carry a measure of guilt for the way Steve had died three years ago. She had been on duty that day. Her first week in the marine division. She’d been the one to encourage Steve to enjoy a day on the lake. She was the first one to come upon the accident and find that her brother had drowned.

She let that image run through her now, play-by-play. Quinn Strand—her brother’s best friend—holding Steve in his arms.

She didn’t blame Quinn but she would always associate him with her brother’s death. So even if she still had some unresolved feelings for him, nothing could come of them now. It would all have to stay in the past, where it belonged.

She’d dated the guy in high school—secretly, because Steve had always warned away all her boyfriends. She’d had a serious crush on him then. She’d hoped he had feelings for her, too, that they were working toward something, but then after graduation, Quinn had just disappeared. She’d heard he’d joined the service. Then he’d come back to Coldwater Bay one summer after he’d discharged. Things between them had picked up where they’d left off. He’d been gone far too long, and she’d missed him. He was someone she thought she could fall for.

He’d been driving the boat when the tragedy occurred. Though it had been considered an accident and he hadn’t been held negligent, every time she thought of Quinn it reminded her of Steve’s death.

Afterward, he left again.

Even if she could forget that he was part of the accident that killed Steve, he was the guy who left her twice without so much as a goodbye. Without so much as an “It’s me, not you, Bree.”

If only he wasn’t the only guy who made her heart pound. Even if someone else could, she wasn’t willing to subject herself to the risk of being left again. She’d put that idea, the dream of raising Stevie with a husband, having more children, far from her.

There had to be something truly wrong with her for Quinn to leave her like that. She wasn’t worth fighting for. Not worth loving.

So she’d put everything into loving Stevie and making the best family she could for him.

But if Stevie lost Bree tonight, then what?

God, do You hear me? Stevie needs me.

Exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she let herself doze off. Might as well rest while she could. Maybe she would have enough fortitude to push through the pain of her ankle after she rested.

Bree woke up to complete darkness.

Darkness and voices that echoed off the trees.

Quiet footfalls closed in.

They’d found her. Terror threatened to take her survival instincts away, but she steeled her resolve. She would fight them if they found her. If she could just outlast them...