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Targeted For Murder
Elizabeth Goddard
MOUNTAIN PURSUITWith his dying breath, Hadley Mason's fatally shot father reveals he's a CIA agent…and a bounty has been placed on both their heads. Heeding his urgent warning to disappear and trust no one, Hadley flees into the Oregon wilderness, but she can't shake the string of hired killers on her trail. So when a fearless and too-handsome wilderness guide comes to her rescue, Hadley has no choice but to put her life in Cooper Wilde's hands. The former Green Beret vows to protect her, but beyond steep gorges and treacherous terrain, a ruthless man will stop at nothing to see her dead.
MOUNTAIN PURSUIT
With his dying breath, Hadley Mason’s fatally shot father reveals he’s a CIA agent…and a bounty has been placed on both their heads. Heeding his urgent warning to disappear and trust no one, Hadley flees into the Oregon wilderness, but she can’t shake the string of hired killers on her trail. So when a fearless and too-handsome wilderness guide comes to her rescue, Hadley has no choice but to put her life in Cooper Wilde’s hands. The former Green Beret vows to protect her, but beyond steep gorges and treacherous terrain, a ruthless man will stop at nothing to see her dead.
Trust no one.
But her father hadn’t met Cooper Wilde when he’d said the words. Could he have known she’d be tracked into the heart of the wilderness? He’d given her no instructions on how, exactly, to stay hidden. All she had in her toolbox were implements to help her disappear.
And now, this one guy…
In a way, Cooper was the missing piece in her backpack. He was a weapon—the most capable person she’d ever met.
“You’re risking your life by sticking around,” she warned him.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
She averted her gaze. “Okay, if you’re going to stick around—” Was she really saying this? “—then, you should know what you’re getting into.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
Hadley climbed out. Cooper slid into the driver’s seat. Shifting into gear, he steered the Jeep onto what barely counted as a road.
“I’m listening.”
“What?”
“You were going to tell me what I’m getting into.”
She sat for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts and figure out where to begin. He seemed to take her hesitation for reluctance, because he said, “I promise, you’re safe with me. Your secret is safe with me.”
ELIZABETH GODDARD is an award-winning author of more than twenty novels, including the romantic mystery The Camera Never Lies—winner of a prestigious Carol Award in 2011. After acquiring her computer science degree, she worked at a software firm before eventually retiring to raise her four children and become a professional writer. In addition to writing, she homeschools her children and serves with her husband in ministry.
Targeted for Murder
Elizabeth Goddard
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Lord works righteousness and justice
for all the oppressed.
—Psalms 103:6
This story is dedicated to my parents, Barbara and Robin. Thank you for believing in me, for always encouraging me to reach for my dreams and to never give up.
Acknowledgments (#ulink_5c5641b5-3bf4-5ce5-98f2-cc7742323425)
This writing journey continues to amaze me as I travel roads that put me in contact with other writers, brilliant people whom I could never imagine I would brainstorm with on a monthly basis or meet with for a cup of coffee. Every time I spend time with writing friends, I come away realizing I’m a better writer for it. How truly blessed I am. So I want to say thanks to all my new writing buddies, and my longtime writing friends, as well. I couldn’t have written so many stories without you! And a special thank-you to my dear friend, Shannon McNear, who now only lives five hours from me! Yes! We can meet once in a while for that cup of coffee in person. All these years of virtual chatting and God has blessed us with some face-to-face time outside of conferences. I appreciate my editor, Elizabeth Mazer, so much for allowing me to write such fun stories. And as always, my agent, Steve Laube, has been a rock for me, always there to encourage and support me when I need him.
Contents
Cover (#ud21946fa-ec86-5990-94c8-32f17e1c76dd)
Back Cover Text (#uf07f36cf-180e-59da-8076-d030bbdf787a)
Introduction (#udd562f8d-fa39-50a9-9f36-d6c7bb5bea99)
About the Author (#u89933e34-6904-5f40-92e0-a12b569b65a5)
Title Page (#u1970c218-bfeb-58fb-b527-4906ddf40c6b)
Bible Verse (#u4fc89cf3-7eae-55d3-8f38-cef5f6635d4d)
Dedication (#u9e0d2741-0845-5e59-a636-7ffcfa37fa2c)
Acknowledgments (#ulink_73396c1a-fc52-583d-9a82-9cc76e78db4a)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_b6e35c97-cb56-54bb-9bd3-61defaf593c4)
CHAPTER TWO (#ue3fcc860-2bda-56b1-8100-40ea6dadb481)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_3168c27a-57a4-531f-98b8-8af6f5b2afb8)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_bf445792-d42f-53d3-8ca3-f5b29466949b)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_92c083c3-ddd0-5392-b762-e3c6c3c2f41f)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#ulink_c470b5da-7593-57e0-b0c8-951808d0846c)
Portland, Oregon
9:30 a.m. Saturday, October
Hadley Mason rubbed Butterfinger’s soft fur, gently urging her neighbor’s cat back inside. She’d agreed to feed and love on the tabby Persian for Teresa. An easy enough task, except for—a sneeze tickled her nose. Thankfully, Teresa would be home tomorrow.
Stepping into the carpeted hallway between the artist loft apartments, she pulled Teresa’s door closed behind her and moved to her own.
Then froze in her steps.
Hers was ajar.
Frowning, she eased it all the way open and peeked inside, assessing the situation. She wasn’t normally fearful but sometimes a girl had to be cautious, especially since she lived in the newly refurbished building that served as an artist community in a run-down part of town. Should she call the police? No...not yet. Not if there was any chance she might have accidentally left the door open herself.
But she really didn’t think she had.
Stepping across the threshold, she glanced around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Her surreal paintings of animals in different environments covered the walls and would normally set her at ease.
But not now.
“Is someone here?”
“Hadley...” Coming from the dining room across the apartment, the voice sounded strained.
“Dad!” Hadley rushed through the foyer, past the kitchen and into the small dining alcove. With his business travel schedule, she wasn’t supposed to see him again until Christmas in a couple of months. What a nice surprise. And she would have said as much except when she saw him sitting in the shadowed corner chair, she hesitated.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Her father wore his typical polished business suit but it was crumpled. His posture was slumped and his usual bright eyes were bloodshot as they studied her.
“Hadley, please sit down.”
Fear slithered up her throat. Her father was all she had in the way of family. She never knew her mother, who’d died when she was born.
“What’s going on?” She asked the question in a daze. “Why are you here?”
“Please.” He gestured to the chair.
Hadley slowly obeyed, never taking her eyes from his pale features. The sweat beading his forehead. “Daddy,” she whispered. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He leveled his pained gaze at her, struggling, battling with his words. Then he gave a subtle shake of his head. “I never meant for any of this to happen. For you to be dragged into this.”
“Dragged into what? You’re scaring me.”
“There’s not much time. I need you to listen carefully.” He fought for breath. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m an agent...with the CIA.”
Hadley frowned. Snorted a laugh. But that was preposterous. Wait...was he serious? “You’re not a financial analyst?”
“No, that’s just my cover.”
She had to have misunderstood. “As in...wait...are you telling me that you’re a spy?”
Unbelievable.
“Yes. I just wanted to make the world a safer place for you, sweetheart...but instead I’ve brought danger to your door. I’m so sorry.” He slumped farther into the chair.
“Dad!” Hadley rushed to him and grabbed his hand. “Should I call a doctor? What should I do? Tell me and I’ll do it!”
“There isn’t time.”
“I don’t understand.”
She hated the tears blurring her vision. He wasn’t making sense, so she needed to be the strong one—to get them through this.
But then he lifted his suit jacket away from his body, revealing a blood-soaked towel pressed against his chest and what would have been a crisp white shirt. Only then did Hadley notice the blood dripping to the Persian rug, which hid the crimson color well.
Her heart plummeted.
“I’m calling 911! You need an ambulance.”
He grabbed her arm, held her tight, surprising her with his strength.
“You’re going to bleed to death if I don’t call for help.”
