Calculated Risk
CLANDESTINE COVER-UPAccountant Victoria Hayes never would have thought discovering fraud in her office would put her life at risk. When her house catches fire, destroying the evidence she's collected, it seems the mastermind will do anything to keep Victoria from disclosing what she knows. Unsure what to do, she turns to her charming supervisor for help. But without much evidence, Jeff Tucker is reluctant to believe Victoria…until they both become suspects. Now they must work together to prove their innocence…and stay alive. With an unpredictable—and deadly—criminal after them, each step could be their last.
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CLANDESTINE COVER-UP
Accountant Victoria Hayes never would have thought discovering fraud in her office would put her life at risk. When her house catches fire, destroying the evidence sheâs collected, it seems the mastermind will do anything to keep Victoria from disclosing what she knows. Unsure what to do, she turns to her charming supervisor for help. But without much evidence, Jeff Tucker is reluctant to believe Victoriaâ¦until they both become suspects. Now they must work together to prove their innocenceâ¦and stay alive. With an unpredictableâand deadlyâcriminal after them, each step could be their last.
âYou believe me,â Victoria said with relief.
âI believe something is going on,â Jeff corrected. âI just donât really understand what yet.â
She grabbed the stair railing and followed after him. âWhere will we go? Your car is destroyedââ
Jeff frowned but didnât slow down. Surely an idea would come to him by the first floor. He pushed his legs to go faster. Adrenaline always helped clear his mind.
He was so focused on the anger from his car being blown up that he wasnât being considerate of Victoria. âI know where weâre going. Follow me.â Once they reached the bottom stair, he turned to her. âYou sure youâre okay?â
âIâm not going to let anything slow me down with that creep trying to find us. Where to?â
His hands hovered over the exit sign on the door. âStay close to me, okay?â
Victoria tapped his shoulder. âJeff. Security cameras.â
âThen letâs hope our security breach friend isnât watching right now.â
HEATHER WOODHAVEN
earned her pilotâs license, rode a hot air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, assisted an engineer with a medical laser in a Haitian mission, went parasailing over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black diamond ski trail in the Aspens and snorkeled among stingrays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one (her greatest adventure). Sheâs filled many jobs such as travel agent, business executive, childrenâs minister, aerobic instructor and preschool teacher. Heather channels her love for adventure into writing characters who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.
For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
â2 Timothy 1:7
For my parents who developed my love of adventure and storytelling. For my husband who refused to let me give up on my dream and continues to read everything I write. For my children who cheer me on. And to the many other friends and family members who continue to encourage me.
Thank you.
Contents
Victoria Hayes tossed through her anxious dreams, the dayâs events on an endless loop: Todd Wagner had caught her trying to collect evidence. Wagnerâs breath was hot and pungent against her neck, just like her dogâs breath. And he was barking.
Barking?
Victoria blinked herself awake with the help of Balooâs wet nose pressed into her cheek. The acrid smell of smoke and the piercing shriek of the houseâs smoke alarms sent her heart into overdrive. She couldnât see anything. The haze stung her eyes. The urge to yell for help prompted her to open her mouth, but her lungs constricted and sent her into a fit of coughing.
She kicked against the covers and fell off the bed, landing on the plush carpet. The fur of her one-hundred-fifty-pound Newfoundland brushed against her hand. She reached out and felt for his tail. Victoria crawled a few steps. It was useless. She couldnât see a thing. She reached out again and felt for his presence. Baloo, like his fellow Newfoundlands, was acting like the rescue dog heâd been bred to be as he led her to safety. Victoria never knew he had it in him.
Her hands crossed the hallway threshold. If she and Baloo could reach the entryway, they had a fighting chance. Wiping tears away with the back of her hand, she could make out hot orange flames licking the ceiling ahead of them.
Victoria cowered to the floor and pressed her face against the carpet as another fit of coughing shook her. Every muscle in her body wanted to give up, wanted to sleep. Baloo ran around and nudged her.
One hand, one knee, one move at a time, she obeyed Balooâs nudges with her eyes closed. She couldnât see anyway. Her skin burned from the heat. She prayed for help just as Baloo shoved her again. An unbidden image of the grass, a river and an open starlit sky filled her mind, and she forced herself to move faster.
Her head bumped into glass. Thank you, Lord. She reached up and pulled on the sliding door handle. Flicking the back door lock upward, she wrenched it open and sucked in a breath of fresh air.
She heard it before she felt itâthe roarâas the fire sucked up the new current of oxygen. In the light of the new flames, Victoria glimpsed a sight of the shiny red bag just out of reach, on the kitchen counter. Against her better judgment, Victoria took a step into the kitchen and grabbed the purse. Baloo barked, bit the bottom of her pajama pant leg and dragged her the rest of the way outside.
