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  Deadly Threat

  SCVC Taskforce Romantic Suspense Series, Book 13

  Misty Evans

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Ready for more?

  PNR & UF by Misty/Nyx Halliwell

  Meet Misty

  Letter from Misty

  Deadly Threat, SCVC Taskforce Romantic Suspense Series, Book 13

  Misty Evans

  © 2021

  ISBN: 978-1-948686-47-1

  Print ISBN: 978-1-948686-48-8

  Please Note

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

  The reverse engineering, uploading, and/or distributing of this eBook via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

  Acknowledgments

  It takes a village… In my case, sometimes it takes even more than that to help me create a story like Mia and Malachi’s. I outlined this book nine months ago, but when I sat down to start typing, it wasn’t the right story. Not even close.

  I panicked. The book had a deadline and I needed a whole new plot. Then my friend, Karen, gave me the opening during one of our enormously fun Zoom chats. She didn’t even realize it—nor did I at the time—but when I sat down to start the story the next day, determined to get at least one chapter done, bingo. Karen’s words came pouring out of Mia’s mouth. Thank you, my friend, for being a source of inspiration without even knowing it!

  My eye has been having issues and I was six chapters in when my doctor told me I needed to limit my screen time. I do everything on the computer, and I was already weeks behind on this story because we were house hunting, my sons had come to visit, and other things kept popping up. Elisa, another friend and often an early reader, jumped right in to help. A rush job, I dictated as fast as I could and she transcribed just as quickly. Thank you, Elisa!

  While writing the story, my editor and friend, Patricia, lost her beloved cat, Tazmania. Taz was a delight and I wanted to honor her, so I named Mia’s cat after her. Thank you, Patricia and Taz, for being part of the SCVC Taskforce series.

  Along with Taz, I needed information on therapy and emotional support animals. An author and friend, JB Lynn, supplied me with important details, since she has a therapy dog. She also kept me going when I felt like the story might kill me before I finally got through the draft. “You’ve finished a story before, you can do it again,” she counseled. She was right (like always).

  Nearing the climax of the story, Malachi argued with me about his injury. (Yes, I talk to my characters.) I had it all planned out, but it would leave him unable to compete in a competition near and dear to his heart, and he tried to talk me into making him a Jason Bourne-type character who could get up and walk away with barely a scrape. My medical expert, Maria Mercedes, confirmed that the injury would require surgery, put him out of commission for a long time, and would require extensive physical therapy afterward. Thank you, Maria, for your advice and sharing your knowledge with me. If you’d like to read the interview I did with Mia and Malachi after the story, please join my official reader group here: www.facebook.com/groups/223349495973783/ OR email misty@readmistyevans with MALACHI as the subject and I’ll send it to you.

  As always, I have so much gratitude to my readers who keep me inspired, especially my official Facebook fan group who picked the title of this story. It was as if some of you knew I needed a pep talk during the two months of work it took to draft it, and your emails and comments gave me a lift every day. Just so you know, I save every piece of fan mail I receive, and love hearing from all of you.

  There are others who contributed to story details, kept me fed, made sure I showered, and helped polish the story to make it shine. My husband, my cover artist, my assistant, and my editors deserve so much credit, and I thank you all. Hard to believe this is the 13th book in the series!

  I hope you enjoy the story!

  Misty

  One

  Threats, Mia Livingston had discovered, were everywhere.

  Including those from her older sister.

  “You’ll never find your soulmate at the library,” Amber chastised, her voice serious, even as she smiled and winked on screen, teasing. “You like those big, muscular jocks, sis. They don’t get those bodies with their head stuck in books.”

  Mia grabbed her messenger bag and slung it on, maneuvering the phone and her arm through the strap. Her twelve pound terrier-mix bounced on her paws at the door, knowing they were going out. “I have a job. Professor Coggins needs info on ancient Egyptian medicines.” Plus, Mia had no interest in finding her soulmate. They didn’t exist, in her opinion, and relationships were off the table for her. Like, forever.

  “Have you heard of the internet?”

  Her sister was a Grade A smartass. “Believe it or not, there are older texts on the subject that no one has ever scanned and put on the World Wide Web.” She rubbed Taz’s head making the gingery undercoat shine through as she passed the tiny, aged feline lying in the sunny front window of the small apartment. The wide stripes of her tiger tabby coat rippling, the old girl purred and blinked at Mia, a paw gently patting her hand, as if saying thank you. “We’re lucky the university library can access these editions for us.”

  “You’re hopeless.” Amber flopped down in the high-backed seat at her office.

  “And you need to get laid.” Mia clipped the non-retractable leash on Ladybug’s harness and double-checked the vest with the certifying agency’s logo on it. “Whenever you start chiding me about my love life, it’s a sure sign you need to work on yours.”

  “You know me too well.” Amber twirled, looking away from the view outside. Downtown San Diego, with its blue skies, high rises, and a few trees, now framed her head. The buzz of some machine sounded in the background and she grimaced. “I hate gyms. I also hate all this noise. I need to get out of here in order to work.”

  The mayor’s office was getting a remodel, and soon Mia’s sister would have to move temporarily from her semi-posh digs into another space during the renovation. “Come to the library. We have knowledge.”

  Amber laughed. “I may take you up on that.”

  It would be so good to see her in person. The thought made Mia smile. “But you like muscles and sweaty guys,” she reminded her. Just like I do. “The gym is where you find such creatures, so suck it up.”

  “Says the sister on her way to the cave-like archives of a library.” Amber made kissy noises at the dog. “Give her a hug for me.”

  Mia checked she had Ladybug’s certification and proof of insurance; it was force of habit more than anything else. She always had the documents, but seeing them before she left the safety of her ho
me helped keep some of the anxiety at bay. “She misses you. We all do.”

  “Let’s have dinner tonight.”

  Mia faltered at the threshold, Ladybug halting as well, to cock her head. Mia took a deep breath, checked both ways, then stepped through. The canine followed and Mia pulled the door shut. Her hand rattled the knob, making sure it had locked. It had, but she checked again. “That’s not a good idea.”

  Her sister sighed, the kind that sounded like she’d pulled it all the way up from her toes. “Mia, he’s dead. Let’s celebrate.”

  Mia hurried down the hall, the stink of stale beer and old carpet filling her nose. She hated this place, but who would look for her here? That’s how she planned to keep it.

  There was no one out and about yet in the building. She didn’t glance at the screen as she headed for the stairs, Ladybug’s small paws keeping pace. “I’m not celebrating a man’s death,” she said in a low voice.

  The dog looked up at her and whined. Then she stopped, putting her body in front of Mia, so she couldn’t take the next step. Mia faltered.

  “He kidnapped, tortured, and nearly killed you,” Amber reminded her. As if she needed such a thing. A well-manicured fingernail tapped on her desk. “I’m glad Marcher’s dead, and now you’re free of him and what happened. No more hiding. I want to be able to see you whenever I want, and tonight we’re lifting a glass to your freedom.”

  The words reverberated through her—kidnapped, tortured, killed. The old alarm bells went off, Mia’s pulse jumping. No, no, no. Not now.

  Ladybug pawed at her leg and whimpered again. The sides of the stairwell seemed to close in on them, threatening to squeeze the air from Mia’s lungs. She stopped, sitting down hard on the cool metal steps. “I can’t do this right now.” Ladybug climbed into her lap and began licking her face. She could barely whisper. Her throat was closing up. “I have to… I have to go…”

  Suddenly understanding that she’d triggered an anxiety attack, Amber panicked. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you. Please don’t hate me. I thought you’d be happy, MiMi.”

  The nicknamed flowed like water over Mia’s taut nerves. Ladybug, as usual, did her job, pressing her strong, warm body against Mia’s chest and continuing to lick her.

  Seconds ticked by. She focused on her breathing, like her therapist told her to. Mentally imagined open fields and wildflowers. Her fingers tangled in the terrier’s fur, soft and wiry at the same time.

  Her throat began to relax. The walls receded an inch. She took a breath, then another.

  Amber’s voice was distant, faint. Mia continued to breathe, dropped her face into Ladybug’s fur. The walls fell back, the suffocating anxiety with them.

  Her lungs expanded. The ringing in her ears subsided. Ladybug barked gently, as Mia lifted her face and blinked.

  “Talk to me,” Amber said. “Do you need an ambulance?”

  Better but still shaking, Mia drew a deep breath and looked at her sister’s horrified face onscreen. “I’m…okay.”

  “No, you’re not. Forget the library. Go back to your apartment. I’ll call Dr. Jeeves.”

  Mia squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. She hadn’t had an attack in ages, and certainly not one that had come on so quickly. Tilting her head down to rub her face against Ladybug’s once more, she forced her voice to sound stronger. “Don’t.” She lifted her head and put extra emphasis on the words. “I’m okay.”

  There was no way she’d let Damon Marcher have power over her, especially in death. He’d been convicted, thanks to her testimony, but had tried to control her from prison. She’d been in witness protection before and after the trial. Bars or no, he’d been able to keep his men looking for her, wanting to use her against her sister.

  She’d been his pawn for too long in the past seventeen months. Even after Mia had been rescued, even while under the U.S. Marshals’ protection, she’d been in hiding and it sucked.

  Now, with the leader of the Quattro Gang dead, and their group in tatters, Mia Livingston was mere history to them.

  It was time they were the same for her.

  She would never be anyone’s pawn again, and she knew how to protect herself now. Didn’t mean she didn’t still have unusual fears and triggers, but she had to get over them, one way or another.

  As she focused on continuing to breathe slow and steady, her sister stayed quiet and let her and Ladybug do their routine. When the last of the restriction left her lungs, she set the dog aside and stood. “There. All better.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Amber stated again.

  The words scratched like sandpaper against her skin, not because she blamed her sister. Not one bit. The fact that Mia wasn’t the kickass person she used to be was what irritated her. That Amber would ever feel the need to apologize for anything did, too. “Please don’t,” she said, gripping the handrail. “It’s not your fault. I have to be able to talk about it.”

  The fact she couldn’t even hear Marcher’s name without freaking out meant she wasn’t doing as well as Dr. Jeeves believed. As well as Mia, herself, had hoped.

  Which meant it was time for a session, but her next wasn’t for two weeks.

  She started down the stairs again, focusing on Ladybug’s harness and the white Therapy Dog designation stamped on it. She didn’t want to take time from her new assignment to squeeze an emergency visit in. I can handle this.

  “Can I please make this up to you tonight?”

  “I have a meeting.” The words flew out of her mouth before she even registered them. It was the perfect excuse, though. There was always a PTSD/peer group gathering at the Catholic Church not far from Amber’s office on Tuesday evenings.

  Meeting, it is. That might be enough to keep her from losing it until her appointment with Jeeves.

  Amber nodded, expression desperate. “Afterward. I’ll pick you up.”

  Mia hit the landing. Could she really see her tonight? Was she really free? “That’s not necessary.”

  “It’s at the church, right?”

  “Are you keeping tabs on me?”

  Amber looked slightly abashed. “I know the time and location of all the peer support groups meeting in the area.” Big surprise. “I know you’d prefer the other members don’t see me, in order to protect your identity. If it makes you feel better, I’ll park a few blocks down.”

  Mia shifted back and forth on her feet. It had been so long. Marcher was dead. Could she reclaim this part of her life and see her family again? “I don’t know.”

  “Baby steps. It won’t be easy resurfacing after the last year and a half, but you can do it. I know you can. My dream of having you beside me is possible. We’re focusing on the future, not the past, okay?”

  The future. Once, Mia knew hers would be by Amber’s side, all the way to the Oval. While Mia had never been a fainting wallflower, she’d never desired the pursuit of fame and power like her sister did. Yet, she’d always supported her. Since high school student council, Mia had written Amber’s speeches, coordinated her campaigns. It was a dream job, assisting her to the mayor’s office.

  Damon Marcher had ruined that.

  If only I hadn’t gone out that night…

  Mia opened the exit door, bright sunlight and the smell of fresh cut grass clearing the stagnant stairwell from her senses. Blaming herself wasn’t the answer. “The future, right.” She wouldn’t celebrate the violence of Marcher’s death, but maybe it was time to release what happened, as Amber was encouraging her to, and find her liberation. I’m done being a victim. Done being afraid. “I’ll think about dinner. Let me see how today goes. Text me later.”

  “Are you sure you can handle going out right now?”

  Mia forced a smile as she and Ladybug crossed the street to the WeGo ride waiting for her. She felt as safe at the university library as she did in her own place. The shelves of books, the scarred tables, the dry paper smell. She loved it. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Call me if you need anything
,” Amber told her, still looking worried, but trying to hide it. “Or if you find your soulmate amongst those worn out stacks of forgotten tomes.”

  Mia stuck her tongue out and disconnected. Later, once she was done with Coggins’ research, she’d think about dinner. It felt good to at least entertain options.

  “How are my girls?” Sue asked, reaching over the seat to pat Ladybug when Mia climbed in.

  “She’s great.” A date with the library was better than anything these days. Maybe she wouldn’t need the meeting tonight after all.

  “Ready?” Sue shifted into gear.

  Ladybug set her front paws on the door handle and stared out the window. “You know it. I have a good feeling about today, Sue. Let’s go.”

  Her good feeling evaporated twenty minutes later when she coasted through the library, Ladybug at her feet, and a stack of old books weighing down her hands. She was prepared for a few blissful hours lost in the books, then she’d have Sue go through the drive-through at South of the Border, her favorite Mexican place, to pick up a tasty lunch on the way home.

  When she rounded the corner, heading for her favorite table, she pulled up short.

  Threat! Threat!

  A man was sitting there.

  No one ever sat in this section of the library at this table but her.

  Headphones in and fingers pecking at the keys of a thin laptop, he didn’t notice. She scanned him from head-to-toe, Ladybug glancing between the two of them.