Mystery Child

TO SAVE A CHILD

In the dark of night, Quinn Robertson is on the run with her little niece, desperate to bring the child to her biological father. All Quinn knows from her scared sister is that the girl is in terrible danger. And when a security and rescue specialist intercepts Quinn and claims he’s there to help her, she isn’t sure who to trust. According to Malone Henderson, Quinn’s niece was stolen as a baby from her real father—the very man Quinn is trying to reach. As Quinn works with Malone to uncover the truth, someone is trying very hard to make sure certain secrets stay buried, and that father and daughter are never reunited.

Mission: Rescue—No job is too dangerous for these fearless heroes

Quinn needed to know the truth, and she needed to know her sister was safe.

“Everything okay in here?” a man said, the voice so unexpected Quinn jumped.

Malone stood on the threshold, his broad shoulders nearly filling the space.

“You scared a year off my life.”

“Sorry,” he said easily.

“It wouldn’t matter if I hadn’t already had ten years scared off back in the woods.”

He nodded, his expression hard. “Things could have gone really bad back there.”

“I know. If you and my brother hadn’t come along, they would have gotten Jubilee.”

“And killed you.” The words were so blunt, his voice gruff.

“They didn’t.”

“When did you notice them following you?”

When had she?

She remembered spotting the truck on her way through New York, seeing it again a few hours later in Pennsylvania. “They were following me for a couple hundred miles.”

“Seems odd that they were able to pick up your trail so far from home.”

She hadn’t thought about that. She’d been too busy trying to figure out how to escape them.

Aside from her faith and her family, there’s not much SHIRLEE McCOY enjoys more than a good book! When she’s not teaching or chauffeuring her five kids, she can usually be found plotting her next Love Inspired Suspense story or wandering around the beautiful Inland Northwest in search of inspiration. Shirlee loves to hear from readers. If you have time, drop her a line at [email protected].

Mystery Child

Shirlee McCoy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

I know that I will live to see the Lord’s goodness

in this present life. Trust in the Lord. Have faith, do not despair. Trust in the Lord.

—Psalms 27:13–14

To my ever faithful God.

Who sees me in my weakest state and loves me anyway.

Contents

COVER

BACK COVER TEXT

INTRODUCTION

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

TITLE PAGE

BIBLE VERSE

DEDICATION

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

Dear Reader

EXTRACT

COPYRIGHT

ONE

They were coming.

She could hear them as clearly as she could hear her pulse pounding frantically in her ears. Feet crunching on dry leaves, clothing brushing against pine boughs, the sounds of pursuit ringing through the dark forest.

A twig snapped, and Quinn Robertson shrank deeper into the tree throw, her arms tight around her five-year-old niece. Jubilee didn’t speak, didn’t whimper or cry or beg for her mother. She hadn’t made a sound since they’d left Maine twelve hours ago.

Please, God, don’t let her make one now.

The prayer bubbled up, borne of desperation and just the tiniest bit of hope that it would be heard.

Please...

A light bounced over the thick tangle of roots that jutted up from the hole Quinn cowered in and swept toward the ridge she’d just run down. Tumbled down. She’d been terrified, and she hadn’t been careful. She was still terrified.

Had her brother, August, gotten her message?

Did he know how close she was to his house?

Did he realize she should already have arrived?

If she’d snagged her purse before she’d taken off, she could have texted to let him know she was in trouble, but she’d left it in the Jeep, her cell phone inside of it. There hadn’t been time to grab anything but Jubilee. By the time her niece was out of her booster seat, the car that had been following them, the car Quinn had pulled off the road to avoid, had made a U-turn and was heading back in their direction.

She’d run into the forest that lined the rutted country road. She’d had no other choice. Tabitha had entrusted Jubilee into her care. She’d begged Quinn to bring the little girl to her father in DC. Her real father. Not the man Tabitha was married to—the man who’d left bruises on Jubilee’s cheek, bruises on Tabitha’s throat. The one Quinn had known nothing about. She hadn’t known her sister was married. She’d had no idea Tabitha had a child. Five years had passed since she’d seen her sister face-to-face, and suddenly she was at Quinn’s door begging for help, her eye black, finger-sized bruises trailing down the column of her throat.

Quinn hadn’t hesitated. She’d agreed to do what Tabitha was asking. She probably would have agreed even if her sister had told her how much danger she might find herself in.

A lot of danger. More than she should be facing alone.

Quinn shuddered, holding her breath as someone raced past her hiding space. Jubilee lifted her head from Quinn’s shoulder, her long braids snagging on roots that jutted into the tree hole.