Runaway Read online

  Runaway

  Cascade Mountain Manhunt

  Mia London

  Susan Sheehey

  Contents

  Other Novels

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  A Message from the Authors

  Other Novels

  About the Authors

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  Copyright © 2020 Mia London & Susan Sheehey

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the publisher.

  * * *

  ISBN: 978-1947874176 (E-Book)

  978-1947874190 (Paperback)

  * * *

  Publisher: Amepphire Press

  11923 NE Sumner St, Ste 766015

  Portland, OR 97220

  * * *

  Edited by Sharon Pickrel

  Formatted by Leigh Stone

  Cover design copyright © Romance Novel Covers Now

  * * *

  Published in the United States of America

  To our faithful and loyal readers.

  The voracious readers.

  The vacation readers.

  The bathroom readers.

  We do this for you.

  Enjoy!

  Runaway

  Romantic Suspense Series, Book 1

  Sweet-and-sassy Skye in a small mountain town yearns for the adventures in her mystery and suspense novels, but a DEA cyber-security specialist on the run may be more action than she can handle.

  Cascade Mountain Manhunt Series

  Runaway

  Renegade

  Other Novels By Mia London

  Sweet Escape Series

  Dry Spell

  Hot Spell

  Cold Spell

  * * *

  Undeniable Series

  Undeniable Fate

  Undeniable Love

  Perfect Series

  Perfect Seduction

  Perfect Surrender

  Life To The Max

  Wanton Angel (Prequel to Life To The Max)

  Beyond Lace (Hard Men of the Rockies 4)

  * * *

  Accidental Tryst

  Other Novels By Susan Sheehey

  Sweet Escape Series

  Dry Spell

  Hot Spell

  Cold Spell

  * * *

  Royals of Solana Series Boxset

  Prince of Solana

  Jewel of Solana

  Crown of Solana

  Royal Wedding novella

  Knights of Texas Series

  Tell Me What You Want

  Tell Me What You Crave

  Tell Me What You Need

  Tell Me What You Feel

  Audrey’s Promise

  * * *

  Summer Heat: Imperfectly Yours Anthology

  “None of this adds up, Monroe.” DEA Assistant Special Agent in Charge John Bordowski sat across the table, his arms crossed.

  Reed buried his head in his hands. The air conditioner buzzed in the upper corner louder than the fluorescent lights overhead. He’d been sitting in this uncomfortable chair in the El Paso debriefing room for three hours. His partner’s killer was getting farther away with every second. “What more do you want? I’ve told you everything I know. I’ve given you every single file on all my hard drives.”

  “What about the ones in the safe house you two were using?”

  “The cartel suspects caught up with me, and I had to bolt. I got here as soon as I could shake them. I’ve given you all the backups I have.”

  “Did you?”

  Reed looked up, his eyes narrowing at his boss’ accusatory tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re hiding something. This timeline doesn’t make sense. In a three-year operation against the Cabello cartel, the only thing you can show for it is a bunch of useless surveillance files and a dead partner.”

  Reed winced. This couldn’t be happening. Only three days ago, Joe was alive. If only he’d gotten to that damn warehouse a minute sooner. One fucking minute.

  He dropped his head, staring at the table’s metal surface covered in scratches. He and Joe had been partners for years. He’d learned everything about the legal side of law enforcement from him. But they were more than partners. They were friends and brothers. They’d celebrated holidays together, played sports and worked out together, and got drunk together. They’d lived in the same damn tiny safehouse for three years straight.

  That was all gone in the blink of an eye.

  Reed could still hear the echo of the gunshots, and see Joe collapse to the ground like a ragdoll.

  Reed drew his weapon, but his killer was quicker and ran before he could get off a shot. Shortly followed by rubber tires squealing on the asphalt.

  He held Joe as long as he could. Joe! Joe! Where the hell is backup?

  The scene replayed in his head a million times. The metallic smell of the blood, the last second when he’d looked into Joe’s eyes before they closed. He’d tried to plug the wounds and stop the bleeding, but it was useless. Blood was everywhere.

  Joe! Hang on!

  He wanted to put his fist through a wall. He glared at Bordowski. His boss was right about one thing. Joe’s recent behavior didn’t make any sense. His partner had been meticulous in his reports, a stickler about filing them on time. “I don’t understand. He and I were in constant contact, in lockstep this entire investigation. Except for the last few days, I’ve known his every move, and he knew mine.”

  “Is that so? Then care to tell me why Joe hadn’t filed a single report in more than a month?”

  Reed’s mouth went dry. He’d seen his partner write up dozens of reports, right up until the last day he’d seen him. “That can’t be right.”

  “Odd, wouldn’t you say? I thought the same thing.” Bordowski rolled his pen back and forth on the table between his fingers. “A fifteen-year veteran of the DEA, previously diligent about filing all his other reports, decided to stop sending them in. Not likely. So what’s the more probable scenario? That they’re getting deleted from our system, which can’t happen without top clearance, way above my paygrade. Or perhaps by a very…gifted…hacker.”

  Reed blinked, finally making the connection. He barely comprehended the implication floating in the air. “You think I deleted his reports from the system?”

  Bordowski gave him a knowing stare. “One who is very familiar with our systems and security protocols.”

  A new realization hit him in the face like a vat of freezing acid. “This isn’t a debriefing, is it?”

  His boss leaned his arms on the table. His expression harsh and unforgiving. In all the years Reed had worked for him, he’d never seen him like this. “I know what you did for a living before Joe brought you into the DEA as a cybersecurity analyst. He said you were the
best he’d ever seen. That you can find anyone, that’s why we hired you, despite your record. Then just before Joe’s murder, magically, you couldn’t find him.”

  “He turned off his car’s geolocator and his phone.”

  “He did? Or did you do it for him?”

  It took everything he had not to spit in his boss’ face. “He did it.”

  “Then why did he go silent?”

  Reed restrained himself from growling at the man, and his voice dropped. “You don’t think I haven’t asked myself that question a thousand times? He wasn’t acting right those last few days. Joe said he wanted to follow a lead on his own. He told me forty-eight hours max. Then he just walked out. The next I heard from him was that night. He texted me to come help him.”

  “Where you tracked his phone to the warehouse? The phone he’d shut off.”

  His heart hammered fast, threatening to crack his sternum from the inside out. “He’d turned it back on by then. When I showed up, I saw him talking to two men. One shot him three times in the chest, then ran off. Why aren’t you chasing them?”

  “Because you’re the one with Joe’s blood on your hands. Literally.”

  Reed glanced down at his open palms. Dried blood was still under his nails. From where he’d held Joe in his arms, kneeling on that cold, concrete floor as his partner bled to death. He hadn’t managed to wash off the stains beyond a cursory attempt in a gas station bathroom.

  He’d never regretted his previous life as a black-hatter, a cybercriminal by the time he was sixteen. That’s where he gained all the cybersecurity knowledge he now used for the right side of the law. He viewed those years on the other side as necessary industry knowledge and how to crack into uncrackable systems and networks.

  But his boss throwing it back in his face and using it as a way to pin Joe’s death on him? There was no way the DEA would do that. Not to one of their own. Or at least he thought he was one of them.

  Bordowski watched him, studying him, like a scientist observing a lab rat.

  Had he been a lab rat this whole time?

  “You think I killed my partner?” he asked, barely audible. His head pounded. This couldn’t be real.

  “You’re the only one who knew where he kept all his files. They’re all gone. You were the last person to see him alive. You were the last person to leave that warehouse where he was killed. You’re the prime suspect.”

  Now the vat of acid climbed up his throat. “Why would I kill Joe?”

  “Did you miss your old life as a cybercriminal? Figure being a DEA agent was too boring? Perhaps Joe caught you. You had to cover your tracks, so you set him up. To get taken out by the very men you were investigating.”

  Reed shook his head. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I would never do that to Joe. I owe him my life.”

  “Yes, you do.” His nostrils flared. “Joe was one of our best men. Now, he’s dead because of you.” Bordowski’s mouth twitched with hatred.

  A long pause settled between them as the events of the last few hours sank into his mind. The DEA was dropping it all on his shoulders.

  His boss reached into his back pocket and pulled out a set of handcuffs. “Hold out your wrists.”

  He could barely breathe. His lungs caved in on themselves, refusing to expand. He’d risked his life to throw off the cartel thugs trying to kill him for witnessing the murder. Voluntarily returned to the DEA field office to get help in avenging his partner. After everything he’d done and everything he’d seen, and all the years spent next to and learning from his mentor, they thought Reed was the murderer.

  “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Monroe,” Bordowski urged. He stood, pushing back his chair with the back of his knees. “If you surrender quietly, I will do everything I can to help you.”

  He glanced behind him. Two more DEA agents came in. No doubt to escort him to holding. Whereas a suspected cop-killer, he’d never see the light of day again. Which meant his boss’ offer was nothing more than a hoax. To get him to yield. To confess. For something he didn’t do.

  In a gut-wrenching daze, he complied. The warm metal clamped down on his clammy skin, the clicking noise echoing in his brain.

  “I never thought I’d see you like this,” his boss muttered like a parent scolding a child. “Joe thought so highly of you.”

  He stood and absent-mindedly let the agents escort him out of the room and down the hall. Faces passed by him in a blur, some in shock, others angry. But that didn’t match the level of shock and anger within himself.

  Joe’s killer was going to get away.

  They were blaming Reed for it.

  This was not the DEA he knew. This was not the justice he worked for tirelessly. They’d once considered his expertise in cybersecurity a highly valued asset, and now they were using it to condemn him.

  It didn’t matter how innocent he was—he’d get locked away forever. And Joe wouldn’t get the vindication he deserved. The whole thing made him want to fuck this whole thing and rage against authority. Just like his younger days.

  But his mentor had convinced him he was better than that. To fight for what was right. What was just.

  Staring at the metal cuffs on his wrists as he was escorted down the hallway, he would not let this be the end. This is not how Joe’s legacy would end.

  If the DEA wasn’t going to search for Joe’s real murderer, then Reed had to do it himself.

  But he had to get out of these cuffs first.

  He saw the sign overhead for the restrooms. “I’m going to throw up.” He feigned a gag.

  “Don’t give me that,” the agent beside him said. “Grow a sac.”

  Reed feigned a louder gag.

  The other agent sighed. “I really don’t want that shit in my car.”

  “Fine,” the first one sighed and directed him to the bathroom. They stood outside while Reed dashed inside and pretended to make vomiting noises. He searched around for an exit point. Another door or an air duct. A small window in the corner let in additional light. He might be able to fit through it. If only he could get the handcuffs off.

  He searched the bathroom for something to pick the lock. He dug in the trash and found a paperclip. In a few seconds, he had the metal off his wrists, thanks to a trick Joe had taught him. Then he shoved the trash can under the window to get a boost. With a few more vomit noises and toilet flushes to keep the agents at bay, he climbed on top of the trash can and squeezed himself through the window.

  Which let him out into a gated parking lot for DEA personnel. A guard manned the entrance’s security station. Beyond the fence line was a small strip mall with a few stores, including a cafe on the corner with an outdoor patio. The dry air and strong dirt smell filled his senses. He never expected to welcome the dust hitting his face.

  Reed acted as naturally as he could as he strolled through the parking lot right up to the guard. “I’m going to grab a bite from across the street. Want anything?”

  The guard gave him a strange look but smiled. “Yeah, a turkey panini and soda.”

  “You got it.” Reed continued past the gate with sure, confident steps. Hopefully, he looked calmer than he felt; his heart rate still harder than a jackhammer.

  If he was considered the prime suspect in Joe’s death, the only way to clear his name was to bring in the real killer. Since the DEA wouldn’t do it, he’d have to go it alone. With the cartel after him, too, he’d have to move fast. Luckily for him, he knew how to disappear.

  Eleven Months Later

  * * *

  Skye flipped the magazine page from behind the diner’s counter. Faster Way to a Bigger Behind was the headline of the next article.

  “What! Are they crazy? Who wants a bigger butt?” She reached behind, running a hand over her backside, smoothing her waitress uniform. She closed the magazine and tossed it in the trash, and then pulled out her detective thriller novel.

  “Skye!” Ralph called from the kitchen. The round man could b
arely tie his apron around his waist, and his bald head reflected the overhead fluorescent lighting. He could be a stodgy SOB, but deep inside, he was a teddy bear. A crotchety, lonely teddy bear.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you make more coffee?”

  Seriously? She’d been doing this damn job for over five years—geez! Had it been that long? She knew when to make coffee. But frankly, it didn’t matter. The damn diner was empty.

  “I’m too swamped serving all the full tables,” she called back with a sigh. She flipped to her bookmarked page. She’d already read it several times, but at least it would be more interesting than the crap in that magazine.

  I have enough boredom in my life to make monks cry.

  “Haha, you’re a real comedian,” Ralph replied and left her to her book.

  Suddenly the bell over the front door rang. Probably Tom and Sylvia for their blue-bird brunch routine every Friday. Without setting down her book, she poured two cups of coffee for the regulars. “Is it prune juice or iced tea today?”

  A tall man in jeans and a T-shirt approached the counter. Not her regulars. The stranger slipped off his aviator sunglasses.

  “Is it sweetened?” he asked, answering the question clearly not intended for him.