Protective Custody

Protective Custody

by Wynter Daniels

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Overview

Witness to a murder, but no one will believe her…

Shocked by the brutal crime she witnesses through the window of her small office, Megan Jackson calls the police and is devastated when they question the truth of her story. With no body and no evidence of a crime, she’s written off as a nutcase.

Megan suspects the killer saw her face. Terrified, she calls the only person she can trust—her ex-boyfriend and former police officer, Will McCoy.

Despite a devastating breakup, Will jumps at the chance to help the woman who broke his heart. When the killer ramps up the stakes, Will is forced to take her into hiding—where the passion they once shared reignites, deeper and hotter than ever. But can Will keep Megan alive long enough to win back her heart?

56,000 words

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781426891595
Publisher: Carina Press
Publication date: 05/09/2011
Sold by: HARLEQUIN
Format: NOOK Book
Sales rank: 517,950
File size: 262 KB

About the Author

Wynter Daniels lives in Florida with her husband of more than twenty years and their two college age children. After careers in marketing and the salon industry, Wynter’s wicked prose begged to be set free. She has authored more than two dozen books for several publishers. You can find her at http://www.WynterDaniels.com

 

Read an Excerpt

"Watch out for ghosts and goblins. It's awfully dark out there." Megan's new client tipped his chin toward the glass door in the reception area. "I'll wait for you. I don't mind."

Megan glanced at the clock and inwardly groaned. Almost 9:00 p.m., no sense holding him up any longer. "Go home. I'll be fine, thanks. I bet your kids are still up and want to show you all the loot they got trick-or-treating."

She shook his hand and waved as he left. With the onset of snowbird season just around the corner, extended workdays were becoming the norm. She'd been at the office nearly twelve hours, finalizing leases, taking calls, showing property and writing up this last-minute listing, and she still had to shut down the computers and the copy machine.

Her growling stomach reminded her she'd worked through lunch, so she snatched a few pieces of candy corn from the bowl on her secretary's desk. Maybe the shot of sugar would give her the jolt she needed to finish up. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could grab dinner and put her feet up.

After shutting off the electronics and the lights, she entered her office and reached for the pull cord on the miniblinds, mindful of the paper skeleton hanging from it, but movement in the storefront across the street stilled her hand. The building had been vacant for months, since the gift shop had moved to the mall, but there were definitely two people in the display window—a man and woman. She leaned closer for a better look, and her breath fogged the glass.

The woman was young, maybe the man's daughter. No, her skin was darker than his, perhaps Asian. He had thick dark hair and was tall and bulky. His back was to her, but there was no disguising the vicious slap he dealt the woman's face or the brute force he used to yank her long dark hair, jerking her head sideways. The woman backed away, shaking her head. He smacked her again, and she stumbled backward, covering her face.

Bastard. Megan gritted her teeth. She should march over there and stop him, but getting in the middle of a lovers' quarrel or family spat could be dangerous. Her ex-boyfriend had the battle scars to prove that interrupting a domestic assault could be dicey, even for professionals. No, she should call the police. Will would know what to do.

She turned and picked up the phone on her desk but stopped when the man closed his hands around the woman's neck, strangling her. The woman cowered and struggled to escape.

Megan banged on the glass. Oh God, no. Couldn't be.

The woman punched and pummeled him, but her slim frame was no match for his bulky strength and broad shoulders. Her strikes didn't faze him.

Megan pressed closer to the window, unable to look away, transfixed by the terror in the woman's dark eyes.

The woman shook violently, flailing her arms, fighting for her life.

Oh my God! I have to help her.

Megan's hands trembled, and she dropped the handset. She couldn't tear herself away from the gruesome spectacle.

The woman's movements slowed, and her head leaned at an unnatural angle to her shoulder. He must have broken her neck. She went limp, slumped against him, then slid down the man's side and dropped to the floor, out of sight.

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