Rocky Mountain Pursuit

IDENTITY: CONFIDENTIAL

Everyone believes agent Jase Bradford is dead—everyone but Reyna Peterson. Only he can protect her now that someone wants the information her CIA husband died to secure. As the one member of their spy team not killed, Jase must remain in the shadows. Yet when Reyna leads the enemy right to his mountain refuge and blows his cover, Jase risks his life for hers. As his best friend’s beautiful widow scales the walls around his heart, whether out of loyalty or love, he makes it his duty to secure her safety. But when their pursuers trap them in the snowy Colorado mountains, will it become his final mission?

“You’re all I have.”

Despite Reyna’s words, his patience neared the breaking point. “Tell me who they are.”

“I don’t know.” Then she slumped forward, as if she couldn’t take any more. “They came to my house and threatened me. They said my husband had taken something they wanted. Jase, I think these men killed him. And now they’re after me. We need to get out of here.”

The noise of approaching vehicles grew louder. As much as he needed to know more about the danger she’d brought to his door, if they didn’t leave soon there would be no way out.

He led her into the night. “Take my hand. We can’t risk using the flashlight. Stay quiet. Noise carries for miles up in these mountains.”

She clasped his hand. The tremors in her gave away her fear, and his heart went out to her.

It might be the worst mistake of his life, but he believed everything she’d told him. He’d do whatever it took to protect his friend’s widow…or he would die trying.

MARY ALFORD was inspired to become a writer after reading romantic suspense greats Victoria Holt and Phyllis Whitney. Soon, creating characters and throwing them into dangerous situations that test their faith came naturally for Mary. In 2012 Mary entered the Speed Dating contest hosted by Love Inspired Suspense and later received “the call.” Writing for Love Inspired Suspense has been a dream come true for Mary.

Rocky Mountain Pursuit

Mary Alford

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

—Isaiah 40:31

To the men and women of our armed forces

who risk their lives daily so that we might

enjoy the freedom that we do today.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your sacrifice.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

PROLOGUE

A thunderous rap on her front door jerked Dr. Reyna Peterson’s attention from the letter she’d been reading seconds earlier. Her heart slammed against her chest at the ominous tone of the knock. It was almost eleven at night and she wasn’t expecting company so late.

The pounding grew louder and more demanding. Whoever was out there wasn’t going away. Reyna shoved the letter into the pocket of her robe, flipped on the outside light and inched the curtains apart. Three extremely menacing-looking men dressed in suits stood on her front porch. She didn’t recognize any of them.

If it weren’t for the unsettling contents of Eddie’s letter warning her this moment might come, Reyna might not have thought anything unusual about the men on her porch. But now, coupled with the events leading up to her husband’s death, she wasn’t so sure.

She glanced around the living room as the banging was followed by an angry voice, demanding, “Open the door, Dr. Peterson. Now. Federal agents.”

Don’t trust anyone from the government, Eddie had warned in the letter.

The door rattled in someone’s grasp. Were they going to break the door down? Her chest constricted with fear. Reyna grabbed the phone to call 9-1-1, but what the man said next had her ending the call before she placed it.

“This is about your husband, Dr. Peterson, and what he stole from his country. If you don’t want to be charged as a coconspirator to treason, I suggest you open the door.”

Every instinct inside of her warned against it, but in her heart she knew she had to find out what they were accusing Eddie of stealing, because she had a feeling she knew already.

“Please, Lord, protect me,” she whispered under her breath. Her fingers shook as she slowly unlocked the dead bolt. Before she could open the door, the men burst inside without invitation. The door hit Reyna in the shoulder and sent her stumbling backward. She almost lost her footing.

Now she was truly terrified. Three strange men were in her house and she was alone.

“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just barge in here without invitation—”

“We can,” interrupted the man who had spoken earlier. He was obviously the leader.

“Who are you?” Her voice wobbled over every syllable. Truth be told, she was shaking all over. Their intimidating stance petrified her and they were obviously armed. She could see a gun tucked inside the leader’s jacket.

He dug in his pocket and pulled out a badge. “Agent Martin. Intelligence.” He flashed it briefly in her face, but she was so rattled she didn’t have time to read his name much less verify the details he’d given her.

“It’s late, Agent Martin. Why are you here?”

He moved threateningly closer and into her personal space. Reyna took an involuntary step backward and the edge of his mouth quirked upward in obvious satisfaction. “I told you this is about your husband.”

“My husband is dead...”

Agent Martin’s steely glare showed no reaction. “Your husband is dead because of his allegiance to a terrorist organization. Your husband was a traitor.”

His words struck like blows. “That’s not true!” she exclaimed.

The smug grin on Agent Martin’s face confirmed he had something to back up those words. “I assure you it is. Peterson took a laptop containing highly confidential government documents and we want it back.”

He motioned to the two men with him and they began searching the room, tossing her personal possessions everywhere.

Reyna couldn’t believe what was happening. “What are you doing? You have no right to search my home without my permission.”

The men continued with the search as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Not only do we have the right to search your house and confiscate anything suspicious, we also have the authority to take you into custody without giving you so much as the privilege of a phone call if you don’t cooperate. Do you want to be charged as a traitor?”

Reyna struggled to draw air into her lungs.

“Where’s the laptop, Dr. Peterson?” Agent Martin asked impatiently. “I’m sure your husband told you where he hid it. We need it now—otherwise, I can only assume you are as guilty as he.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But she did. Eddie’s letter had detailed where she should go to find the laptop. It had been by God’s hand that she’d received the letter from Eddie’s father that very afternoon. Ed Sr. told her he’d found it tucked away in a drawer with a note informing him to send it to Reyna if something were to happen to Eddie.

Agent Martin practically snarled at her in response as the two men rejoined them once more. They shook their heads.

Martin moved closer, inches from her face, his eyes seething with anger. “Enough games. Tell me where it is, Doctor. I’d hate to have to haul you in to make you talk. We have ways of getting information out of people and I promise you won’t like it.”

She shivered at his all-out threat. He wasn’t even trying to hide it now.

“Believe me, Doctor, these charges are real, and you’re going to want to get in front of them if you ever hope to have the chance at seeing the light of day outside of a prison cell.”

As she looked up at him, Reyna realized she didn’t trust anything he said. There was more going on here than what Agent Martin was telling her.

“I don’t have a laptop and you’re wrong about my husband. Eddie wasn’t a traitor. He loved his country...” She stopped when the two men came and stood behind her. She could feel their hot breath on her neck. They were going to arrest her.

“You’re lying.” Agent Martin surmised as he continued to pin her with his gaze.

Reyna lifted her chin. “No, I’m not.” Her fingers rested on the letter in her pocket, confirming that Eddie did at one time possess the laptop in question. If they searched her and found it, they’d make good on their promises and she might never have the chance to prove her husband’s innocence. “I know my rights, Agent Martin, and I happen to still have friends at the CIA. They’ll come looking for me. You can’t arrest me without charging me.” She silently prayed he didn’t call her bluff. After a handful of seconds ticked by in a silent standoff, Agent Martin finally nodded to the two men behind her and they strode over to the door.

“You have two days to bring us the laptop, Doctor. Otherwise, we’ll be back and you’ll face the consequences. Serving a life sentence for treason will be the least of your worries.”

Agent Martin slammed the door behind him and Reyna rushed over and slid the dead bolt back into place. She slumped against the door and onto the floor, her legs no longer able to support her.

After she drew in a handful of calming breaths, she could think clearly once more. She needed help. The type of help Eddie had explained in his letter. If anything happens to me—if they come for you and threaten you—go to Defiance, Colorado. Find my former colleague, Jase Bradford.

But finding Jase Bradford was going to prove a near impossible task since he’d supposedly died from his battle injuries three years earlier—in spite of Eddie’s insistence that Jase wasn’t actually dead.

Reyna killed the lights, crawled over to the window and glanced outside. A black Suburban was parked down the street from her house. They weren’t leaving. They were going to watch and see if she led them to the laptop. She couldn’t let that happen.

She got to her feet and raced to her bedroom. Taking down her old suitcase, she threw as much stuff as she could fit into it and then slipped out the back door. She didn’t dare risk using her vehicle. They’d be looking for it. She’d have to borrow her neighbor and good friend Sara Dawson’s car if she stood any chance of staying out of prison long enough to retrieve the laptop and find Jase Bradford.

As Reyna walked out into the humid Texas night, it scared the daylights out of her to think that she was risking her freedom, if not her life, on locating a man who the entire world believed was dead.

ONE

Reyna’s breath stuck in her throat. She clutched the steering wheel in a death grip to try to keep the tiny car from sliding off the ice-encrusted road. She was way out of her comfort zone. Truth be told, she had been since the nightmare first began.

She slowed to a snail’s pace as an onslaught of ice and snow clung to the windshield, making visibility next to zero. The storm had continued to intensify since she’d been up on the mountain. She had never felt more terrified or alone than she did at this moment, yet turning back wasn’t an option. Behind her lay almost certain prison time—or worse. Agent Martin had all but promised as much. Still, no matter what lay ahead, she had to find out the truth. Was Jase Bradford dead or alive? Reyna believed her life might depend on the answer.

Her eyes darted fearfully to the rearview mirror. What if the men watching her house had somehow managed to follow her here to Defiance, Colorado? She couldn’t let them find the laptop and then kill her before she had the chance to clear Eddie’s name and prove her husband had been murdered. To keep that from happening Reyna had devised a plan. After she’d called the hospital to let her supervisor know she would be taking an extended leave of absence, she had left the laptop in a secure storage facility in Eldorado, Colorado. Then she’d sent a letter to Sara letting her know where to find it if something were to happen to her.

Reyna scrubbed her hand over her weary eyes. The frantic thirteen-plus-hour drive from Stevens, Texas, to Defiance had taken its toll. She was exhausted beyond belief. Thinking clearly took more strength than she had. She’d hit Defiance a couple of hours before darkness descended and just as the edge of the storm arrived.

Maggie, the woman working the night shift at the diner, told her there were only four houses up on Defiance Mountain and none of them belonged to a Jase Bradford. Still, Reyna pressed on because she was all out of options. She believed Eddie had been murdered for what he’d discovered on the laptop. If she wanted to stay out of prison long enough to prove that, then she’d need Jase Bradford’s help to unravel the contents of the files hidden there.

Reyna leaned forward in her seat. She’d driven past three of the houses already and there were clear signs no one had been home in quite some time. One house remained. The last one up was almost at the top of the mountain, according to Maggie, and the storm wasn’t showing any sign of letting up.

She could now barely see the hood of the car, much less the road. The conditions were deteriorating quickly and she had no idea how much farther the car could make it.

Even facing all those dangers, her biggest fear was that Eddie had been wrong and the man buried in Arlington National Cemetery was indeed Jase Bradford. After all, they both had attended his memorial service at Langley. Everyone including the CIA acknowledged Jase was dead.

Why then had Eddie been so convinced in the weeks before his death that Jase was still alive?

She eased down on the gas pedal and the tires spun on the slick gravel, spewing debris against the underside of the car. Since she’d moved from DC back to her childhood home, Reyna had grown accustomed to mild winters. Nothing in Stevens, Texas, had prepared her for this.

The tires finally caught, the car lurched forward, and Reyna remembered to breathe. The road continued its upward spiral broken only by a series of switchbacks that snaked around the side of the mountain. Her heartbeat pounded a frantic rhythm in her ears when she reached another ninety-degree bend. She’d been at it for over an hour and had only managed a quarter of a mile.

Up ahead, the headlights flashed across the left side the road. It appeared to slough off a good foot from the edge. It was pitch-black out and she had no idea how steep the drop-off was. A fall would almost certainly result in major injuries...or death. If she did survive, hypothermia would set in quickly. She’d be dead by morning.

Reyna nudged the car along. She had almost reached the end of the switchback when she felt the vehicle slide on black ice and inch closer to the side of the mountain. Panicking, she jerked the wheel hard in the opposite direction. The small car skated backward some twenty feet. As a result, the tires lost their tenuous grip and slithered closer to the edge.

She floored the gas and the vehicle wrenched forward, swerved sideways and headed straight for the drop-off. Reyna screamed and tried to turn the wheel but it was useless. It moved freely in her hands. She had lost control.

Reyna closed her eyes and prayed with all her heart. She didn’t want to die up here. Not alone like this. Not without proving Eddie’s innocence.

“Please, Lord, no.”

The car spun 360 degrees a couple of times until the front tires slipped over the edge of the mountain and were suspended in midair. The car rocked a couple of times and then stopped. Reyna slowly reached for the door handle. If she could just open the door, she could leap out before it was too late.

She tentatively lifted the handle; the vehicle tilted back and forth from the simple movement. An eerie silence surrounded her. The car hung in place for a second longer and then tipped forward. Reyna barely had time to scream again before the tiny car hurled itself headfirst over the side of the mountain.

* * *

Davis Sinclair stomped hard on the brakes of his battered SUV and somehow managed to keep from spinning out on the slippery road. The first storm of the season had hit hard and fast. It was barely September and already the storm had dumped a foot of snow in a matter of hours. It had piled up on the gravel road leading to his house.

He had been so focused on getting back home through the wintry mix that he hadn’t noticed the skid marks on the road until he was right on top of them.

Someone else had been up his mountain.

The new-fallen snow covered most of their tracks. Still, he hadn’t become aware of them until now, and that concerned him most of all. He was slipping. He’d been gone from the CIA too long.

A familiar fear coiled deep in the pit of his stomach. There would be no reason for anyone to come this far up the mountain. Especially in these conditions.

Davis squinted through the cracked windshield at the skid marks that started about twenty feet in front of him. That wasn’t the part that worried him. It was the direction they were heading. Straight off the side of the mountain.

Was this just some innocent traveler lost in the storm, or the moment he’d feared for three years?

His heart drummed in his ears as he grabbed a flashlight along with his Glock and shoved the Jeep’s door open against the howling wind. The freezing air mixed with sleet robbed him of his breath. Instinct had him panning the area for unseen trouble. Was it a setup? Had his identity been blown? It could be someone dead set on eliminating the threat he still posed. Old habits died hard. Three years, and he still hadn’t broken his.

He shook off the past with effort and trudged through the additional snow that had fallen since he’d left home.

The flashlight’s beam picked up a small car perched about ten feet over the edge. Another three feet to the left and the car would be halfway down the mountain by now. As it was, it had laid bare a five-foot-wide stretch of dirt once covered in heavy brush and small trees, before coming to rest in a grove of aspens.

Davis shoved the Glock inside his jacket pocket, braced his right foot against one of the mangled tree trunks and shone the flashlight’s beam on the ground. Putting one foot against available trunks and another on an exposed rock, he slowly made his way down to the car.

He could see the driver—a woman—leaning forward in her seat, her head almost touching the steering wheel, the seat belt the only thing keeping her upright. The airbag hadn’t deployed. He couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive.

He yanked at the door. The woman moaned and Davis breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her, and watched as she struggled to focus on him. He noticed a quarter-sized red spot on her forehead that had the makings of one nasty bruise.

Davis moved closer and she shrank away, terror written on every inch of her face.

“No,” she said at last. “I don’t think so. It happened so quickly. I thought I had made the turn and then...” She fumbled with her seat belt.

“Hang on a second. Don’t try to move until we’re sure you’re not hurt.”

She didn’t listen and, instead, scrambled to undo her restraint. The woman was obviously suffering from shock.

The latch freed and Davis caught her before she could fall forward. His arm circled her waist and she froze. He lifted her out of the car and set her on her feet. The moment she was safely on ground, she pushed his hands away and distanced herself from him. It was clear he made her nervous.

The storm around them was no comparison to the one raging in her startling emerald green eyes. It had been a long time since he’d seen such panic. Was it just because of her near-death experience or fueled by something more?

Her light brown hair, once tied into a ponytail, was now mostly escaping. The first thing to strike him as unusual was that she seemed familiar. Impossible. They’d never met before; he was almost certain of it.

Davis realized he was staring and quickly pulled himself together. Too much time spent alone, obviously. “We need to get you out of here. The storm’s not easing any. Can you walk?”

She took a tentative step forward. “Yes, I think so.”

“Good.”

He gazed up at the sky. The weather conditions were definitely worsening and he had a decision to make. He couldn’t leave her here and the car didn’t appear drivable. But there was another option. He could take her back into town and deposit her at the hotel then wait out the rest of the snowstorm from Maggie’s Diner.

His was the only house past the last curve. No one came this far up the mountain by accident. So what brought her here? Old fears from his past life slowly crept in. She didn’t appear to be a threat, but he’d learned the hard way not to depend on appearances. Bad people came in innocent-looking packages, and in the spy business, you never let down your guard.

“What were you doing up here on the mountain in this storm anyway?” he asked through narrowed eyes, carefully gauging her reaction.

“I’m...searching for someone.”

Her body language told him she wasn’t being completely honest and he needed answers.

“There’s no one up here but me, so let’s try this again. Who are you and why are you really here?”

Her gaze collided with his, and he lost his equilibrium for a second. Even scared to death and as cagey as a trapped bear, she had the type of beauty that took his breath away. He hadn’t thought of another woman in such a way since Abby, and it bothered him that a total stranger could illicit such thoughts.

“My name is Reyna Peterson and I have told you the truth,” she retorted, bristling at his tone. “I am trying to find someone. A friend of my husband’s.”

She was married. A simple gold band on her left hand seemed to confirm her story, but he couldn’t let go of the doubts. “Oh yeah? What’s the friend’s name?”

She hesitated, evidently torn between answering his question and keeping her secrets. His internal radar pegged the top of the chart.

She cleared her throat. “Jase Bradford. His name is Jase Bradford.”

Shock and disbelief threatened to buckle his knees. He hadn’t heard that name in years. He had long ago buried the person he’d been back then.

Somehow, Davis managed to get coherent words to come out of his mouth. “There’s no one by that name around these parts. Your husband is mistaken.” A hard edge crept into his tone as it always did whenever he thought about the past.

Reyna stared at him in a way that conveyed she either didn’t believe him or didn’t want to.

“Eddie was so sure I would find him here...” she murmured, almost to herself.

Eddie. Eddie Peterson? No, not possible. He couldn’t have heard right. “Your husband’s name is...Eddie?” He latched on to the name as a distraction because it felt as if someone had slugged him hard in the chest. With the exception of his former handler, Kyle Jennings, Eddie was the last remaining member of the Scorpion team still alive. Eddie wouldn’t be trying to make contact with him without good cause. And why send his wife? Had something happened to his former comrade?