Emergency Response

DESIGNATED TARGET

On her way to visit a little girl she recently helped save, paramedic Darcie Stephens is attacked by a stranger dead-set on killing her. She escapes unscathed when detective Noah Lockhart comes to her rescue, but an officer finds a hit list dropped by the assailant—and Darcie’s name is next. Now with an assassin constantly on their heels, Darcie and Noah must uncover why somebody wants her dead. Noah fights hard to protect Darcie, but she’s determined to keep the cop at arm’s length. After all she’s lost, she’s afraid to love again, especially a handsome lawman with a guarded heart. And a murderer doesn’t plan to let Darcie live long enough for any second chances.

First Responders: Brave men and women alert and ready for danger and love

“You’re safe, Darcie,” Noah said.

Was she? Would this creep think she could identify him and come looking for her? Come after her with his gun, or even worse, try to strangle her again?

A full-on shudder claimed Darcie’s body, and despite her efforts to fight back her tears, they started flowing. She tried to stop them, willed them away, but to no avail.

“Aw, no. Don’t cry.” Noah’s arms went around her, and he drew her close.

She needed him. Just now. Not later. Never again. Just now.

He cradled her head and held her. She allowed herself a few more moments to take in the warmth and ease the chill from her heart, but when her tears fully subsided, she couldn’t find an excuse to stay in his arms, so she eased free and looked up at him.

“Better?” he asked, his gaze tender as he pressed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

She didn’t know how to reply, and silence hung heavy in the air. She didn’t want to admit that outside his arms she felt afraid.

If she did, he would feel a need to protect her, and that wouldn’t be good for either of them.

SUSAN SLEEMAN is a bestselling author of inspirational and clean-read romantic suspense books and mysteries. She received an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award for Thread of Suspicion; No Way Out and The Christmas Witness were finalists for the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence. She’s had the pleasure of living in nine states and currently lives in Oregon. To learn more about Susan, visit her website at susansleeman.com.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace

as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

—Romans 15:13

For my wonderful daughters, Erin and Emma.

As I wrote this book about parental loss, I was constantly reminded of what amazing daughters you are and that I am so blessed that God has put you both in my life.

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

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Can’t breathe. Must breathe.

“No.” Darcie Stevens clawed at the beefy arm circling her neck like a hangman’s noose, her fingernails raking over her attacker’s fleshy arm.

Scratching. Ripping. Drawing blood.

It didn’t deter him. He tightened his grip, cutting off the last of her breath. “Give it up. You won’t win.”

She worked harder to release the pressure on her windpipe. Struggled for oxygen. Any. Even the tiniest sip of cold February air. Found none.

Her vision blurred and she blinked hard.

No! Please, no!

Was this the end? Desperation set in. She had to try harder.

She elbowed his gut. One hard, firm jab to the midsection, her elbow sinking into his stomach.

He didn’t move except to constrict his arm and draw her back more tightly against his flabby body. She felt a gun tucked into his belt pressing against her back.

No. No. No.

Did he plan to shoot her if he failed to choke her? She had to get away before he drew the weapon. But how?

Her shoes. Yes, her boots had spiky heels. They could do some serious damage. She stomped on his foot, grinding, pressing, digging for concrete.

“Uhhh,” he grunted. His arm relaxed a fraction.

Yes!

She pressed her hands together like a diver and shot them up under his arm, pushing with all of her strength. Widening the gap.

One final push. She gave it her all and broke free. She gulped air and didn’t waste time waiting to see what he might do, but took off down the sidewalk. Her steps, halting at first as she dragged in enough oxygen to pick up speed.

He followed her, the sound of his heavy footfalls reverberating in her ears. Her lungs were heaving with exertion. Her body begged to stop. To rest.

No. I can’t let him catch me. If he does...

She wouldn’t let that happen.

Please help me to go on.

Rain started to fall, pelting her face, soaking through her jacket. The moss-covered sidewalk threatened to take her feet out from under her. She focused on her shoes.

Careful now, one foot in front of the other.

She was making progress, but so was he. She could hear him coming closer. Closer. Step by step. Each footfall sounding like thunder in her ears.