SEAL’s Redemption by Leslie North

20

Logan got out of his truck as quietly as he could, the open front door of Hope’s place gaping at him like an open mouth. He had his gun with him, locked and loaded, ready for whatever he might find in there. His gut churned.

Please, God, let Hope be okay! Do whatever with me. Just let her and the baby be okay.

He inched around the side of the house to the corner of the porch, gun drawn and safety off. He knew the cops were on the way, but he also knew what a mess the roads were out there. Clarissa Jones was smarter than any of them had given her credit for, choosing her timing for this attack wisely.

Back to the wall, he skirted the front windows then leaned his head inside, weapon first, to scan the living room. No one there. He stepped inside and quickly surveyed the area. No sign of Clarissa or Hope. He checked the kitchen next then headed down the hall. That’s when he heard the voice, and his heart sank.

“Little slut, trying to steal my husband,” Clarissa said, her high-pitched voice jagged as broken glass. “I was just going to give her a talking to, make sure she understood that she needed to keep her filthy hands to herself. I didn’t plan for her to trip or hit her head—but it did solve the problem she presented.” A cackle of insane laughter. “Didn’t find out until afterward she was his daughter. Desmond never told me. He should’ve told me. I’m his wife.”

Jesus.

Slowly, Logan crept down the hall, gun at the ready, feet silent. The last thing he wanted to do was startle Clarissa and have her start firing wildly, especially since Hope was nearby. She’d said she could climb out the window, but he didn’t even want to think about what kind of injury that might do to her and the baby, so…

One foot in front of the other, agonizing seconds ticked by, and he winced when he heard what sounded like a kick to the guest room door. Clarissa must’ve narrowed down her search to there. Not good. Not good at all.

He finally reached the turn in the hallway that led to the bedroom and leaned against the wall, concealing his presence.

Clarissa was still chattering away about God knew what. Logan had stopped listening, his mind focused on the task at hand as it always did on a mission. Get in, neutralize the threat, rescue Hope. Except when he leaned slightly to assess the territory, he realized that there was no way he could get a clear shot at Clarissa without exposing his location.

Shit.

Okay. Fine. If that’s what it took, he’d do it. Better him getting shot than Hope. He stepped forward and swiveled to face Clarissa’s back. He hadn’t really taken the time to get a good look at her up until now, but as always happened in the heat of the moment, details seared themselves into his brain.

She was wearing a twin set. A fucking twin set to a murder. And pearls. Always those goddamned pearls. Logan would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so zeroed in on his target.

She must have heard his footsteps because Clarissa turned toward him, already shooting. He ducked back around the corner for cover.

Dammit. He should’ve shot her in the back when he had the chance, it’s what he’d been trained to do, but it didn’t seem right, and he’d balked. She was a woman. He’d never taken out a woman before, and it rubbed him the wrong way. No matter what she’d done, Logan preferred to have her taken in alive, if possible.

Now, here they were, in an odd standoff. He knew he could take her down in a shootout. But there was more at stake here than just taking out an enemy. The more he’d thought about the case on his way back from the rest stop, the more it had become clear that Clarissa couldn’t have done it all on her own. Which meant that while she might have been the mastermind behind it, there could still be others out there who might come after Hope and the baby, even if Clarissa was out of the picture.

No. He needed to take Clarissa in alive to end this once and for all.

So, when bullets failed, taunts usually worked.

“Out for another killing today, Ms. Jones?” he called. “One not enough for you?”

She laughed, a tinny, unpleasant sound. “You can’t protect her, you know.”

Like hell I can’t.

Logan bit back those words, though, determined to stay on script and get under Clarissa’s skin if he could. “Who are you working with? There’s no way you could’ve come up with all these plans by yourself. Not with how incompetent you are at carrying them through.”

“Incompetent?” Clarissa snarled before her voice returned to its saccharine tone. “If anyone is incompetent, it’s you. Leaving your precious charge all alone where anyone could swoop in. I expected more from a Navy SEAL, Mr. Miller. Shame on you.”

He tightened his grip on the butt of his Glock, shaking off those comments. It’s a game. Just a game. One he intended to win. His last comments seemed to have hit their mark, so he kept going in that direction. “You must be pretty messed up to kill a kid like Diana Lauren. Does Desmond know you murdered his child?”

“He should have told me he was her father!” Clarissa yelled. “Why didn’t he tell me? I had to figure it out on my own after the fact. After I….” She huffed. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not sure she was his kid anyway. Women lie all the time about that sort of thing. Maybe she was just some scam artist looking for a sugar daddy. Why else would Desmond have paid for her tuition? My husband’s accountant told me about that little prize. And why else would they meet at a hotel bar? Not the sort of place a man would want his daughter hanging out.”

The longer she talked, the less certain her tone became, and Logan sensed a crack in her armor.

“Well, whatever the situation, I had to warn her off,” Clarissa continued. “I just wanted to confront her. I didn’t want her dead. It wasn’t my fault that she fell! I barely even pushed her!”

“Uh-huh,” Logan said, keeping pressure on the woman’s weak spot, buying himself some time. The cops should have been there any minute. It felt like forever since Hope had called. Where the hell were they? A small muscle ticked in his cheek, and he pressed his heated cheek against the wall and peeked around to see where Clarissa was hiding.

Keep taunting. Keep her on edge. Keep her off balance. That’s your advantage here.

“No. Diana was his daughter, all right. And you killed her.”

“I didn’t mean too,” Clarissa insisted. “I didn’t. She just fell and hit her head on the corner of the desk in that hotel room. She didn’t get up.” Her tone turned more frantic. “It’s Desmond’s fault, really. If he’d just told me the truth from the start, or kept away from her like his parents wanted, everything would have been fine. He never should’ve met up with her in the first place. He should’ve left the past in the past.”

“It is your fault. You’re the one responsible for her death,” he growled, angry on Diana’s behalf.

“It’s doesn’t matter anymore anyway,” Clarissa said after a moment. “I can’t have you and Hope exposing the truth. I’ve worked too hard and paid too high a price to keep it hidden this long. Which means I need to kill you both too.”

Her first shot lodged in the wall near Logan’s head. He didn’t give her the chance to fire off a second one.

Logan rushed the hallway, slamming into the small bookcase Clarissa was hiding behind, knocking it into Clarissa and toppling her backwards onto the hardwood floor, trapping her beneath its weight. Her gun fired again blindly through the door of the bedroom and a scream rang out.

His heart stopped, lodging in his throat.

Hope. If anything happens to Hope…

He quickly disarmed Clarissa just as the police finally arrived out front, lights and sirens blazing. All Logan cared about, though, was getting into that bedroom and making sure Hope was okay.