Undercurrent

TRAPPED AT SEA

In an instant Kathryn Brooks’s idyllic transatlantic cruise turns to terror. It’s hard to believe someone has it out for her, yet chandeliers don’t explode on their own—and her best friend has gone missing. But Secret Service agent Sam West vows to protect her as every corridor poses a threat and any stranger may be an assailant. With the ship’s security providing little assistance, Kathryn puts her trust in Sam. Yet losing her own life is no longer her only fear. As she and Sam strive to stay a step ahead of the enemy, Kathryn worries that by caring for Sam…she’s put a target on his back, as well.

Hot tears spilled down her face as she thought of Sam, how he would take all of this on himself. But it was her fault. She shouldn’t have gone with the man.

She wouldn’t.

She stopped, turned toward her assailant, the barrel of the gun near her eye.

He didn’t want to kill her here. Knew he’d be caught.

“Move!” he growled, and a door above them slammed open.

“Kathryn!”

Sam. Coming down the stairs!

The man yanked her back, hand fisting painfully in her hair, gun pressed to the side of her head.

Footsteps echoed, fast along the metal steps. Sam turned the corner, weapon drawn.

He met Kat’s eyes, and she wondered if this would be their last moment together.

SARA K. PARKER

was raised in central Maryland and spent many childhood hours with her nose in a book or a pen in hand. The youngest of five children, she longed to grow up, and began pursuing a writing career at the age of fifteen. That year, her first poem was published in a Christian magazine, and Sara has continued to weave her faith into most of her writing. Sara holds an undergraduate degree in journalism and a master’s degree in writing. She and her husband stay busy with four children, three dogs and a cat in a suburb near Houston, Texas. When she’s not writing or wrangling children or animals, Sara spends her time teaching piano, reading, reorganizing or experimenting in the kitchen.

I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;

I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth.

—Isaiah 42:16

To my mom and dad, Shirley and Edward Porter.

I still remember opening that electric keyboard one glorious Christmas morning—thank you for always encouraging me to pursue my dreams.

To my husband, Nate, who never doubted, tirelessly helping with kids and housework so I could write. I love you, and I couldn’t have done this without you.

To my sister, Shirlee McCoy, a critique partner who tells it like it is until we’re laughing so hard we’re crying. You said I’d get here, and you believed it. Thank you.

And to God, who orchestrated it all.

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

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Someone had been in her stateroom.

Blue sapphire organza spilled out of the opened garment bag in Kathryn Brooks’s closet. She hadn’t touched it since the day they’d set sail, when she’d carefully hung the gown alongside her other performance attire. Kat was meticulous about her work clothes, had to be, considering their hefty price tag. She never would have left one of her bags open. Especially not the one holding her Jovani gown, the one her dad had bought for her.

So, who had opened it?

The question gripped her and wouldn’t let go.

She checked the zipper along the edge of the white casing, found it intact. She glanced around the room.

Everything else looked just the way she’d left it when she’d gone to the gym. The bed had been made, though, and a towel folded into the shape of a monkey hung from the ceiling. Johann’s doing.

She still felt funny about the special treatment, but her agent had insisted on requesting a room with a balcony, a steward and all the perks that vacationing travelers enjoyed.

It was how a world-renowned concert pianist traveled, Becky Landry had told her. “In style.”

Kat unhooked the gown from its hanger and carried it to the bed, laid it out atop the white down comforter. Traced the seams, checked the hem. No harm done.

Perhaps her cabin steward had just been curious. If it happened again, she’d have a word with him. She chided herself for her paranoia.

She needed to get a handle on that. Ever since the fire, she’d been battling anxiety.

Rooming with her best friend had been the perfect antidote. During the day, Morgan was the best kind of company—funny and adventurous, always dragging Kat out of their room to explore new ports and socialize with passengers. And during the quiet hours of the night, Kat was never alone. But Morgan had disembarked for a family emergency four days ago, leaving Kat right back in the very place she’d sought to escape—alone with her thoughts.

The room was stuffy. She left the gown and opened the glass balcony door, stepped out to the railing. Hot wind assaulted her, mid-July sun beating down without mercy. She welcomed the heat, its warmth on her face, the pungent saltiness of the sea—all reminders that she was alive. Just three months ago, she’d wondered if she’d ever feel the sun again, see the crisp blue sky, inhale the scents of summer.