Manhunt

CHASING JUSTICE

A daring escape by a dangerous fugitive puts US marshals Eric Hanning’s and Hailey Shelder’s careers and lives on the line. With the criminal vowing revenge, Eric feels duty-bound to protect his risk-taking partner. He doesn’t agree with her methods, but he’s drawn to the single mom who wants to prove she can make it in a demanding job. When her daughter is almost kidnapped, Eric and Hailey go from uneasy partners to a true team. But with floodwaters threatening the town and a killer on the loose, can their newfound trust survive the final showdown that awaits them?

“Federal agents!” Eric called out. “Open the door.”

“No!” The female voice yelled, “I know my rights.”

Hailey banged on the door. “We just want to ask a few questions, Ms. Phelps. This won’t take long and then you can go about your day.”

“I’ll go about my day when you leave me alone! This is police harassment!”

If Deirdre Phelps didn’t want to open the door and talk, there wasn’t much else she could do without probable cause and a warrant.

The neighbors probably loved the shouting match happening on their quiet little street, but this was pretty much the highlight of Hailey’s day. There was a rush to her work, a satisfaction of being part of an organization that brought down the worst of the worst criminals and put them away. Justice. Honor. She breathed these things. Her heart beat by them.

Hailey heard the ratchet of a shotgun.

Eric launched himself at her just before the front door exploded.

LISA PHILLIPS is a British-born, tea-drinking, guitar-playing wife and mom of two. There’s only one bunny rabbit now (sad face), but she’s muddling through that. Lisa favors high-stakes stories of mayhem and disaster where you can find made-for-each-other love that always ends in happily-ever-after, and she understands that faith is a work-in-progress more exciting than any story she can dream up. To find out more, visit authorlisaphillips.com.

Manhunt

Lisa Phillips

He sent from on high, he took me;

he drew me out of many waters.

—Psalms 18:16

To Scott. Thanks for putting up with endless questions about dams, boats, guns and computery-thingys.

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

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

The shackled man in the orange jumpsuit sat between US Marshal Hailey Shelder and her new partner. The SUV rumbled down the dark highway at two in the morning while rain pounded on the windshield. It had been raining for days, a torrent that left ranches and farms waterlogged and roadways covered with a sheet of water.

Hailey tapped her foot. The excess adrenaline of a prisoner transfer coursed white-hot in her veins, leaving her wide awake. But all she was doing was sitting in the backseat waiting for...nothing would be great. No activity at all. Just the routine movement of prisoner to airplane, and then they could go home.

Hailey should have been dead asleep in a food coma after her evening watching back-to-back cartoon movies with Kerry that they’d both seen a million times already—not to mention all that popcorn. But she wasn’t going to skip her Friday night movie date with her twelve-year-old daughter, not even for a middle-of-the-night fugitive transfer. And definitely not when her ex-husband had Kerry every other weekend.

Half an hour out of town, the SUV pulled into the tiny airfield they used for covert, nighttime prisoner transfers. It was an out-of-the-way airport usually used for scenic tours of central Oregon—tours that strategically circled around the valley where the federal penitentiary was located. The airport was only two buildings and the runway, which was enough for them to make use of. The Marshals Service didn’t need the audience a bigger airport would give them.

“I can’t believe it’s still pouring.” Hailey’s new partner, Eric Hanning, leaned forward to look around the fugitive. “What is with this state? Is it ever going to stop raining?”

Hailey couldn’t stop the little flip of her heart every time he turned those blue eyes in her direction. Even though it was dark in the car, she could still picture them. She shrugged, as if his presence was all the same to her. Maybe if she pretended for long enough it would become true. Besides, it wasn’t like they got along.

“Maybe in a week or two.” Hailey didn’t want him getting his hopes up that the weather would clear. The rainfall had exceeded record amounts days ago, but the Arizona transplant didn’t know that.

She and Eric had butted heads at every available opportunity since he’d joined the team. His insistence on learning and then implementing every nuance of procedure was exhausting. At least the difference in their personalities served to defuse whatever attraction was there.