Chasing Secrets

When a witness becomes a target…

Can this K-9 track down the killer?

After Karenna Pressley stumbles upon a ruthless drug dealer trying to drown her best friend, she’s on his hit list—and out of places to run. Her ex-boyfriend, K-9 officer Ray Morrow, is determined to keep her safe with his drug-detecting spaniel, Abby. But with danger stalking them, will their reunion be a chance for a fresh start or the end for them both?

True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn

HEATHER WOODHAVEN earned her pilot’s license, rode a hot-air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, parasailed over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black-diamond ski trail in Aspen, and snorkeled among stingrays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one. She channels her love for adventure into writing characters who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.

Also By Heather Woodhaven

True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn

Chasing Secrets

Twins Separated at Birth

Undercover Twin

Covert Christmas Twin

Calculated Risk

Surviving the Storm

Code of Silence

Countdown

Texas Takedown

Tracking Secrets

Credible Threat

Protected Secrets

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Chasing Secrets

Heather Woodhaven

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90710-5

CHASING SECRETS

© 2020 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 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.

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Ray’s K-9 spaniel, Abby, began to whine…

He stopped for a second and watched her. Had she found more drugs?

She barked, looking straight at Ray as if wanting him to follow her. He let the leash loose. She barked again and headed for the living room.

A faint beeping reached his ears. He followed Abby back into the living room only to find Karenna, arms wrapped around herself, staring at the back of the kitchen wall.

The paint began to blister and pop with brown spots. “Ray? I think the apartment next door is on fire.”

The fire next door had to be a trap, a way of getting Karenna into the open.

Did they face death inside or outside?

TRUE BLUE K-9 UNIT: BROOKLYN

These police officers fight for justice with the help of their brave canine partners.

Copycat Killer by Laura Scott, April 2020

Chasing Secrets by Heather Woodhaven, May 2020

Deadly Connection by Lenora Worth, June 2020

Explosive Situation by Terri Reed, July 2020

Tracking a Kidnapper by Valerie Hansen, August 2020

Scene of the Crime by Sharon Dunn, September 2020

Cold Case Pursuit by Dana Mentink, October 2020

Delayed Justice by Shirlee McCoy, November 2020

True Blue K-9 Unit Christmas: Brooklyn by Laura Scott and Maggie K. Black, December 2020

Dear Reader,

When I was invited to write an installment of this exciting K-9 series, I wholeheartedly wanted to get the research right. I’d have a question about a detail of Abby’s work life and hours later my family would find me watching K-9 videos, having forgotten the initial question on my mind.

I must thank my local police. I requested to interview a K-9 officer and was invited to a demonstration. When I arrived, I found the entire team of officers and K-9 partners of all different specialties ready to show me their impressive skills and training regimen. The team allowed me to look inside their vehicles and pepper them with questions. They offered me so many ideas on how they would respond in Ray’s situation. They really helped me breathe life into my characters and make the story richer.

I enjoy hearing from readers. You can find me on social media or sign up for my newsletter at heatherwoodhaven.com.

Blessings,

Heather Woodhaven

A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.

—Proverbs 16:9

To my editor, Emily Rodmell, and my fellow LIS authors. Thank you for sharing your encouragement and wisdom!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Karenna Pressley searched the area, ignoring her gut feeling that this was a waste of time. So far, there was no sign of Sarah.

She hated walking alone, even in Prospect Park—her favorite place in Brooklyn. She tugged her jacket zipper higher. At the rusted lamppost, she turned onto a less traveled path that led to the south side of the lake.

The park provided a nature haven in the city with almost six hundred acres of beauty, but even on a crowded day, she could find isolated spots. This evening the crowds weren’t a problem thanks to the rainstorm that had passed through an hour ago. The sun still shone but wouldn’t stay in the sky for more than a couple more hours, and the May breeze held a cold bite, despite being in the sixties.

Karenna would’ve preferred to meet up at a restaurant after work, but Sarah Mayfair had insisted upon “their bench,” a place they used to meet after high school to discuss whatever drama the day had given. A lot had changed over the past decade, but she would always consider Sarah her best friend forever, even if they no longer wore the tarnished necklaces as proof.

She ducked underneath a low-hanging branch. A few rain droplets managed to hit the back of her neck, the cold moisture sending a shiver down her spine. The thick foliage above filtered out the majority of sunshine, casting shadows across the walkway. Her hearing heightened at the sudden change in lighting. She squinted up the path, hoping to see Sarah already at the bench ahead.

Empty.

If Sarah stood her up yet again, they would have words. Karenna hadn’t seen her in months. Sarah’s go-to excuse lately was “unexpected plans” with her mysterious boyfriend, a guy named Marcus. Clearly, Sarah had given up their pact of sisters before misters. Karenna was finally supposed to meet the mystery man tonight, so she forced herself to keep an open mind. Maybe she’d like him in person.

A couple argued in the distance, out of sight, past the tree line. One of the voices sort of sounded like Sarah’s. Birds squawked, as if scolding them for disrupting the peace. Karenna reached the bench and attempted to brush off the raindrops. The arguing stopped but a splash followed.

Keeping her flats more on the grass than the mud proved a balancing act as she ducked through the branches to get to the bank.

A man, tall, well-dressed, with perfectly coiffed hair and black sunglasses stood in an awkward posture on the slanted bank leading to the water with his left foot on—

“Sarah!” The scream tore from Karenna’s lungs.

Even though she couldn’t see the face underneath the water, she recognized the red boots her friend always wore on special outings. His foot held down her chest, Sarah’s entire head submerged in the water, her arms and legs flailing uselessly. The man’s face turned her direction.

“Get off!” Karenna rushed at him, whipping her purse his direction. She aimed for his head, but the bag bounced off his back and hit the ground. She shoved him with both hands and he stumbled backward.

Karenna turned and grabbed one of Sarah’s flailing arms and tugged, pulling her up. Sarah gasped and coughs racked her body, mud and water dripping from the back of her head and shoulders.

A force like a wrecking ball slammed Karenna sideways into a tree trunk. Waves of pain rushed across her ribs and down her spine. Her heart raced as her chest seized, unable to take a breath momentarily. Her eyes stung with tears at the realization he’d knocked the wind out of her until finally, mercifully, she could breathe again.

“No! Not her!” Sarah stumbled her way. The man spun, placed his hand on the side of her face and propelled her backward. She hit the ground with such force, her body went limp.

Karenna pulled in another breath to scream but his hand clamped over her mouth. She fought to get her bearings, but he dragged her with his other impossibly strong arm toward the water. With one shove, he slammed her back against the mud, the sharp angle of the bank allowing gravity to do the rest of the work. She forced herself to gasp before he slammed his shoe on her chest.

Cold water rushed over her forehead and then her entire face. She fought to raise her head but couldn’t lift it far enough to break the surface. The little breath left in her lungs tried fighting its way out of her mouth from the pressure his foot placed on her lungs.

Karenna knew not to thrash against him—she’d run out of oxygen faster if she did—but instinct refused to cooperate with logic as she twisted and kicked against him. She tried to reach his foot with her left hand.

Her lungs burned and her neck began to spasm, begging for her mouth to open. Her right hand reached out desperately, sand and pebbles digging under her fingertips. She grabbed blindly at a handful and tossed it wildly, hoping it would go in his direction. The instant the mass left her hand, she grabbed more and threw again.

The pressure on her chest increased. She grabbed again and flung a handful of pebbled mud. Her other hand found a larger rock and she pulled against the suction of the wet earth to loosen it and threw as hard as she could.

The weight left Karenna’s chest. Her stomach groaned from the exertion as she lifted her head out of the water and drew in a giant breath. Coughs racked her body and sparks of red-hot pain shot through her temples, promising a future headache.

He still stood over her, as he threw off his sunglasses and wiped at his forehead and eyes.

Her left hand reached for something to help pull her fully upright, but she could only grab more of the mixture of mud, sand and pebbles. “Help!” Her scream came out in a desperate screech followed by another sharp inhale. She couldn’t gulp enough air to satisfy her stinging lungs.

The man’s chin had bright red streaks mixed with mud dripping on his chest. One of the rocks she’d thrown had done the job, but he was still standing. He bared his teeth and rushed at her, both fists out, aiming for her shoulders.

She screamed as loud and hard as she could, scooting backward into the water. If she could get past his reach fast enough, she might be able to swim away.

Approaching voices grew louder. People! The man froze, only inches from the waterline, but his murderous glare never wavered. He spun, grabbed the sunglasses off the bank, and bolted, running through a grouping of trees and away from the oncoming group of loud park-goers.

Karenna’s entire body began to shake, even as she strained to flip over to her hands and knees. She crawled across the mud. People had heard her. Help was coming.

Her teeth chattered, water rushing down the sides of her face. She reached the sparse grass, looking up expectantly for her rescuers to burst through the trees.

Nothing.

She crawled toward Sarah, still limp on the ground. Her hand reached her friend’s arm, cold and clammy. Where was the help?

The pounding in her head started. She fought to focus and think straight, but the ground kept moving. Had anyone heard her? Were they ignoring her, thinking she was playing a game?

“Help!” The attempt to scream again was somewhere between a squeak and a whisper. Her heart stopped beating for half a second. Their attacker might realize no one had paid attention and come back to finish the job.

Her cross-body purse, covered in mud, lay next to a puddle five feet away. Her shaking fingers fought with the zipper pull until it finally gave way. She shoved her hand into the damp bag. Please still work. Her hand wrapped around the phone, mercifully dry but sporting a cracked screen. She tapped the emergency call feature.

Seconds seemed to pass before the ringing started. Karenna leaned over Sarah’s face. She couldn’t tell for sure that she was breathing until she noted a small rise and fall of her chest. “Wake up, please,” she croaked.

Karenna’s eyes burned as she heard a voice come through the phone.

“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

“My friend is unconscious. Someone tried to kill us.” The tree branches to her right moved, despite the still air. “I think he’s coming back to finish the job.”

Officer Raymond Morrow grabbed his K-9 partner’s favorite toy, a rope with a ball on the end, swung it, and tossed it as far as he could. Abby, an English springer spaniel, rocketed through the tall grass. He marveled at her speed. As the field variety of the breed, her legs worked much like the bow of an arrow. With every leap, they pulled inward with tension and then released with power, shooting her across the grass of Prospect Park. Her semi-docked tail had white fringe on the end and resembled a waving flag, making it easy to keep his eyes trained on her. Abby deserved a play break between patrolling for narcotics before they finished their long shift, and the respite served as the only time Ray could allow his mind to drift and process cases.

Recently, a double murder had brought a cold case back to the forefront for the Brooklyn K-9 Unit. Last month, a three-year-old girl’s parents had been killed at their home while she’d played outside, and the MO was remarkably similar to a twenty-year-old unsolved case involving two of Ray’s coworkers. Siblings Penelope and Bradley McGregor worked for the unit, Penny as a records clerk and Bradley as a detective. Their parents’ killer had left no leads except some DNA collected from a watchband. The NYPD had run the DNA dozens of times through the years. All attempts came up empty. No matches in the databases.

Something had been nagging at the back of Ray’s mind, though, something he couldn’t latch onto, frustrating him to no end. He felt certain one of the true crime shows he’d watched in past years held the key, but he couldn’t remember which one. To be fair, he’d consumed copious amounts of crime stories, paying particular attention to mistakes other cops made so he wouldn’t follow suit.

Golden light filtered through the trees surrounding the grassy field. Abby swiftly grabbed the ball, the rope hanging from her soft mouth as she bounced back toward him. Bits of mud left over from the rain peppered the tops of her paws. She’d need a bath.

His radio sounded. “Attempted homicide. Prospect Park—”

Rapid-fire responses burst through the speaker. Ray was on the Windsor Terrace side of the park, but he’d left his patrol car on the Park Slope side and could get there within minutes. He chimed in that he’d assist.

“Time to go to work,” he told Abby. The spaniel dropped the ball at his feet and waited for him to hook the leash back on her harness. In the distance, the Peristyle, a park shelter that looked transplanted from Ancient Greece, held a group of picnicking park-goers. Abby didn’t so much as give them a second glance. Her bubbly demeanor changed as they rounded the corner. The earlier rain had heightened her tracking skills. Instead of washing scents away, the high moisture actually trapped and held scents closer to the ground. While she wasn’t quite alerting, she seemed to be heading toward a less-traveled trail that disappeared through the bushes.

A quick burst of sirens in that direction confirmed Abby’s instincts. They split off the path and spotted an ambulance parked next to a bench. Abby pointed after them. Were there drugs involved in the attempted homicide? Knowing Abby’s narcotics specialty, he had to wonder. He strode ahead and followed after the paramedics through a tight grouping of bushes and trees.

They surrounded a woman, seemingly unconscious on the ground. She looked vaguely familiar. Abby did a little dance, her nose forward, and then sat, which meant she’d caught the scent of a narcotic. Before he could acknowledge her passive alert, his eyes drifted to the other woman being interviewed by a patrol officer who’d beat him there.

Ray’s mouth went dry. Five years had passed since he’d last held her in his arms. Her soaked blond hair, dripping onto the yellow emergency blanket wrapped around her shoulders, looked darker, but he’d recognize those pale blue eyes even if ten or twenty years had gone by.

Karenna Pressley—the woman he’d once thought he’d marry—shivered in place, her hands rubbing her bare forearms. The patrol officer looked over his shoulder and acknowledged him with a nod, and Karenna followed his gaze. Her mouth opened in recognition, but she said nothing.

What had happened here? His gut turned hot as he remembered it was an attempted homicide. His breath grew shallow. If anyone had hurt her—

The other officer, with the last name Holloway on his uniform, approached Ray.

“I found her guarding her friend with a rock and a stick,” Holloway said in a hushed tone. He relayed a horrific story about a man attempting to drown her friend and then, in turn, trying to drown Karenna instead. Ray glanced over at the unconscious woman again. Now he knew why she’d seemed vaguely familiar. She was Karenna’s best friend.

Holloway gestured toward the grouping of bushes and trees surrounding them. “Ms. Pressley had the feeling the guy would want to come back and finish the job. She had barely survived his attempt to kill her when loud park-goers startled him and he fled. Whoever attacked her and the friend, a Sarah—”

“Mayfair,” Ray finished for him through gritted teeth. Barely survived?

“You know her?”

“Acquaintance. I know Karenna.” Every muscle tensed as he thought about what would’ve happened if the attacker had succeeded.

Holloway studied his face for a minute before he nodded.

A wiry paramedic leaning over Sarah’s form looked up at Karenna. “Did she have drugs in her system?” the man asked.

“What?” Karenna rushed toward them. “No, I told you. He was trying to drown her when I found them. I went after him and he pulled her out and threw her down.”

“You said she was breathing when he pulled her out?”

“Yes. She was fully conscious, but he threw her down hard. She went limp.”

The other paramedic frowned. “Verbal and motor are no response. Pupils pinpointed. Blood oxygen level, heart rate and breathing abnormal…” Her words were meant for her partner, but, given the look they shared, the paramedics thought there was more to the story. Maybe Sarah had overdosed before the attack.

Once again Abby did her little front paw dance and strained her nose at a purse five feet away. “Is that Sarah’s purse?” Ray asked her.

Karenna jolted slightly, as if she’d forgotten Ray was there for a second. “Yes. I mean I think so.”

The other officer gave an almost indistinguishable nod for Ray to take over.

“Find,” Ray said softly. Abby took one bound to the purse, touched her nose to it and sat back, her tail wagging and her mouth seemingly in a smile.

“Good girl.” He pulled out the special toy he only used as a specific reward for a find. Abby popped it in her mouth and flopped down, happy. Ray slipped on gloves to protect himself from potential harmful substances and picked up the purse.

Inside was an empty prescription bottle without a label. He lifted it for further examination. “It’s possible she had a dangerous level of narcotics in her system.”

The paramedic eyed the bottle for half a second while he continued to prep Sarah to be moved to the backboard.

“You don’t know that.” Karenna pointed at Abby. “It could be a prescription medicine your dog alerted on. It could’ve been her boyfriend’s—”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yes, I was supposed to meet Sarah’s boyfriend today.”

“Is he the one who attacked you, then?” Ray took a wallet out of the purse and opened it. “What’s his name?”

“Marcus. I—I already told the other officer I don’t know for sure if it was him. I’ve never met Marcus before, but I was supposed to today.” She closed her eyes tight and bit her lip for a second. “His last name is escaping me.”

“Don’t worry,” Ray said softly. He continued down his mental checklist of items in the purse. “No phone.”

“I couldn’t find her phone, either,” Karenna said. “I looked while waiting for help to arrive. I thought maybe she’d have a photo of him on it and then I’d know for sure. I think the attacker took the phone with him.”