Silent Sabotage

A HIDDEN ENEMY

Emily Graves left everything behind to save her aunt’s struggling bed-and-breakfast, but she’s hardly through the door before she’s the one who needs saving. Someone in Bridal Veil, Oregon, will go to any lengths—even murder—to keep her from making the B and B a success. Sheriff’s deputy Archer Reed has made it his personal mission to bring down the culprit. But first he has to convince Emily to accept his protection…and determine why anyone would want to harm her. As Emily’s unknown enemy becomes increasingly violent, Archer may be the only person who can keep her alive.

“So what you’re saying is to butt out of your business.”

His jaw firmed for a moment and some unreadable emotion flashed in his eyes before he ground his teeth. “You want me to take off? Just say the word, and I’m out of here.”

“No, please. That’s not what I meant at all. I’m grateful for your protection.”

“But you don’t think you need it?”

“No, I do. It’s just…” She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s more. You…me…there’s something going on between us, right? And I don’t want you to think just because you’re stepping in to protect me that it’s going anywhere.”

He let his gaze linger. “So you feel it, too?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Isn’t it?”

He had her there, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it. She looked away again and felt his gaze on her, but she wouldn’t turn back. He was right. It was the point. She didn’t mind his taking Stan down a notch. In fact, she actually liked having someone on her side. Someone willing to defend her. And that was the problem, as she’d said. She couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—start to rely on someone for them to turn around and bail on her.

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.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

I have told you these things, so that in me you may

have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

—John 16:33

For my family, who always take over my responsibilities

when I approach deadlines. It is through you and your patient understanding that I am able to share these stories of peace with readers.

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

The scream was high and sharp, and Emily felt her aunt Birdie’s pain to her core.

“He’s shooting at us!” Birdie cried.

Emily had heard the gunshots sounding from the parking lot at the flea market and antiques mall where they were shopping for all-natural soap. Could be a hunter, as cougar season was open all year in this part of Oregon, but the blasts sounded too close.

So then, what? A shooter on a killing spree? But that was ludicrous. Nothing like that happened in sleepy Bridal Veil, Oregon.

“Someone has to help us.” Birdie took a tortured step back like a trapped animal ready to bolt.

“No one is shooting at us.” Heart racing, Emily patted Birdie’s arm and searched the space for any sign of a danger.

She saw a small crowd browsing at colorful booths rimming the exterior walls of the old grocery store. A mobile food cart selling corn dogs, pretzels and soda sat in the middle of the space next to worn picnic tables. Big fans whirred overhead, stirring the unusually steamy July air, but it was still thick and muggy. Nothing out of the ordinary for this small town in the foothills of Mount Hood, except the heat wave.

Emily lifted her hair from her sweaty neck, her heart rate starting to return to normal. She looked at Birdie, her face red and blotchy from the heat. In one of her Alzheimer’s fogs, she’d insisted on wearing jeans and her favorite long-sleeved flannel shirt.

Pop, pop, pop. Gunfire rang out from the parking lot.

Birdie grabbed Emily’s arm. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes.” Emily spun toward the door, fear spearing her heart.

“A shooter!” a man yelled as he came running in the front door. “He’s gone postal in the parking lot. He’s headed this way.”

“I told you so,” Birdie said matter-of-factly as if being right was more important than the fact that a crazy gunman was coming into the building.

A burly guy stepped through the door with a big black rifle in his hands and green duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He wore a baseball cap pulled down low and surveyed the space. His jaw firmed in determination, and he looked up. Dark, cold eyes swept across the room.

“It’s Delmar,” Emily whispered, trying to stem her fear when she recognized the former member of Oregon Free, a local environmental group where she was a member.