Always Watching
Authors: Lynette Eason
Tags: #FIC042060, #FIC042040, #FIC027110, #Bodyguards—Fiction, #Celebrities—Fiction, #Stalkers—Fiction, #Suspense fiction, #Mystery fiction, #Christian fiction
© 2016 by Lynette Eason
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
Ebook edition created 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâfor example, electronic, photocopy, recordingâwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-4550-2
Some Scripture used in this book, whether quoted or paraphrased by the characters, is taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.⢠Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.
www.zondervan.com
Some Scripture used in this book, whether quoted or paraphrased by the characters, is taken from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright 1952 [2nd edition, 1971] by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Published in association with Tamela Hancock Murray, The Steve Laube Agency, 5025 N. Central Ave., #635, Phoenix, AZ 85012
“Lynette has written another fast-paced bookâlace up your tennis shoes and grab a water bottle. It's a race against death.”
â
DiAnn Mills
, author of
Deadlock
“Eason's
Always Watching
had me âalways reading' until I devoured it. Riveting suspense, complex characters, and a twisty, turning plot kept me up until I finished it at 2 a.m. This is one of the best romantic suspense novels I've read in a long time. Highly recommended!”
â
Colleen Coble
, author of
The Inn at Ocean's Edg
e and the Hope Beach series
Praise for the Hidden Identity series
“Being the first novel in a brand-new series, all that can be said for this author is that she certainly started out with a âbang'! For any reader looking for âedge-of-your-seat' thrills, this series is the perfect gift.”
â
Suspense Magazine
on
No One to
Trust
“The author doesn't let up until the end, making
No One to Trust
extremely difficult to set down. I enjoyed her Deadly Reunion series, but this book surpasses those by far, and I hope this is only a glimpse of what we can expect from the Hidden Identity series. Fans of Eason's and readers of Christian suspense will definitely want to check out this new series. I, for one, cannot wait to get my hands on the next installment.”
â
Fiction Addict
on
No One to Trust
“Readers will be on the edge of their seats till the final chapter.”
â
Publishers Weekly
on
Nowhere to Turn
“Eason has written an exciting nail-biter that readers are sure to enjoy.”
â
Booklist
on
Nowhere to Turn
“The third book in Eason's Hidden Identity series starts off with action and doesn't let up until the end. Fast-paced and intriguing, the romance between Jackie and Ian develops naturally. The mystery is not easy to figure out; even astute readers may be fooled.”
â
RT Book Reviews
, 4 stars on
No Place to Hide
As always, this book wouldn't be possible without the love and support of my family, so I dedicate it to you. Jack, Lauryn, and Will, I love you like crazy.
THURSDAY EVENING
The music played in the background while the charity's benefactors finished their dinner. A few danced, some chatted. Others looked slightly bored with the whole thing.
But one person caught her eye.
She watched the elegantly dressed female from across the room. She fit in nicely with the crowd, blended well. But stood out in one regard.
“He's mine,” she whispered. “He's mine and you can't have him. Go away.” No one knew what it had taken for her to get here tonight. No one knew the work she'd put in to making sure she was at this event. No one. And no one was going to ruin it either.
So what should she do? She had seen the woman following him, watching him, her eyes tracking his every movement, never leaving him alone. Even following him to the bathroom and back. Oh, she was discreet. She never made a move to approach, but she watched.
Her heart thumped in time with the upbeat music. How could
she get him to see her? Truly see that they belonged together and had belonged together . . . forever?
Grudgingly, she admitted that the woman was pretty. Dark hair and eyes. Just the kind of woman he would be attracted to. “Well, you can't have him.” She paused to draw in a deep breath and take another bite of her orange-glazed duck.
It would be fine.
She chewed, swallowed, and looked up. And met the eyes of the woman across the room. She dropped her gaze back to her plate. Why was she looking at her? Did she see something? Could she know what she was thinking?
Another deep breath. Of course not. She couldn't get stupid now. She glanced at the man who'd stolen her heart. And some fat cow at his side. Why had he brought her? She reached for her glass.
“Are you all right? You look like you're agitated.”
She nearly choked on the sip of tea. “Agitated?” As good a word as any, she supposed. She placed the glass back on the table and forced a smile. “No. I'm just fine, thank you.”
“Good, I'm glad.” He took the seat next to her. “You look beautiful tonight.”
She swallowed, despising the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”
“I'm glad you could make it.”
Was he? She glanced at the woman across the room again. “I wouldn't have missed it.” Good, she was getting her composure back.
“Of course not. You deserve this.”
She stared at him. “I do?” Then blinked and gave a small laugh. Thankfully, it came out low and amused, not coarse and nervous like she felt.
“You do. I think you deserve to have whatever makes you
happy.” He smiled and his white teeth flashed bright in his tanned face.
She tilted her head. “Are you flirting with me?” Because if he was, he was out of luck. Her heart was already taken.
He chuckled. “Would you like to dance?”
“You want to dance? With me?”
“I asked, didn't I?”
“Then I'd love to.” Maybe
he
would see and would take note. She rose and placed her hand in his. Then glanced back at the woman across the room. The other woman's eyes were back on Wade.
The fury renewed its desire to come out, to spill over onto the woman. But she held it back.
“Is there a problem?” her dance partner asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You seem tense.”
“I'm fine.”
He nodded in the woman's direction. “You don't like her?”
She stiffened. “I don't know her.”
“At least you didn't pretend to misunderstand who I was talking about. I like that.”
She was in control. She could handle this. She smiled up at him. “Forget her. I already know what you do. Why don't you tell me something about yourself that I won't read in the papers.” She listened with one ear while her gaze drifted back to the woman who couldn't seem to keep her eyes off Wade. Yes, it might be time to do something about her. But that was fine. She'd killed for him before, she'd have no trouble doing it again.
EARLY FRIDAY MORNING
2:46 AM
Madelyn McKay swept her eyes over the radio station door, down the length of the building and back, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. She kept the car running, only slightly concerned about the gas she was wasting. It was sweltering outside even at this time of night, and she wasn't going to bake. The air conditioner blew in her face and helped keep her awake.
“August in the South. Gotta love it,” she muttered and turned the volume up a notch on the radio.
She had to admit, even though she had no trouble sleeping at night, her client's soothing voice could have lulled her into sweet dreams if she'd been suffering from insomnia.
As far as she was concerned, Wade Savage had the perfect radio voice. Sweet, smooth . . . and silky. But more important, he sounded like he really cared. More than once Maddy had reached for the phone, thinking she'd call in and ask him a question. Professionalism held her back. But she really liked his voice.
As did everyone who listened. Including one rabid fan. Wade's stalker. A stalker who seemed to be escalating the hunt.
That was why Maddy found herself sitting in her car watching the building and everyone entering and leaving. Which wasn't anyone at this time of night. Wade was in the building alone. Maddy had her laptop mounted on a special dash stand, allowing her to monitor every area that had a camera on it. Her computer screen was divided into six squares with a view of the six areas. The back door, the front door, Wade sitting at the console speaking into the microphone, the door to the storage room in the back of the building, and the two hallways.
She wished she could see down the back of the building. The station was part of a strip of businesses, but held the coveted end spot in the row. None of the other businesses were open. Night-lights glowed from behind the glass doors, the employees long gone.
Patching in to the station's security system had been ridiculously easy. After this case was over, she planned to help the station upgrade its software and firewall. Until then . . .
Maddy checked her watch one more time. Wade had left the charity dinner and bolted to the station to do the show. He would be finished with it in about another fifteen minutes, then she would follow him home, report in, and go home to get a good night's sleep.
So she could do this all over again tomorrow. Boring? A bit. But she liked it that way. She thought Wade had looked tired, though. But who wouldn't be, keeping his schedule?
A flash of light shot through the driver's window, then was gone. She sat up straighter and looked in the direction the light had come from. When nothing else happened, she didn't relax. Instead her nerves began that little hum they did whenever she
needed to be on alert. Aware. The light flashed again, farther away and not hitting the car, but still there.
Ignore it? She continued her rhythmic tap on the steering wheel, debating. Then grabbed her phone and sent a text requesting some backup. She didn't know if she'd need it or not, but it never hurt to be prepared. Maddy had a good view of the front door of the radio station from her strategic position. She'd backed up and parked next to the building just across the lot from the building Wade had entered almost three hours earlier.
When the light swept across the front of the station doors, Maddy's pulse picked up speed and her nerves hummed faster.
Her fingers curled around the handle of the driver's door.
The glass to the passenger window exploded. Maddy ducked, flinched away from the shards hitting her, reached for her weapon. Felt a prick in her upper arm. Looked down to see a small dart sticking out. She grabbed for it and pulled it out. What? Her head began a slow spin and nausea climbed up the back of her throat. Weakness consumed her and she felt the darkness start to grab at her consciousness. She fought it, struggled to get her fingers wrapped around the door handle, her only thought to get out, get help. But her eyes wouldn't stay open. Her phone. She needed her phone to call for help. But her hand was too heavy. She couldn't lift it.
She forced her eyes open and saw a masked figure slide into the passenger seat, the knife glinting in her attacker's right hand.
“Why?” she whispered.
Felt the blade against her throat.
Then nothing.