Deadly Connection Read online




  Hidden enemies can be deadly.

  But the Brooklyn K-9 Unit is on the case.

  On her way to question US Marshal Emmett Gage about a DNA match that implicates his relative in a cold case and a recent murder, Officer Belle Montera’s attacked. Now she and her K-9 partner must team up with Emmett to find his cousin and the person after Belle. But can they figure out who’s targeting her without becoming murder victims themselves?

  New York Times Bestselling Author Lenora Worth

  “Someone just tried to kill you,” Emmett said.

  “I’m not leaving until I check out your apartment,” he added.

  Relenting, she led the way to her apartment. She opened the door and stepped inside, almost stumbling on a yellow envelope.

  His gaze moved from the envelope to Belle. “Were you expecting mail?”

  “Not shoved underneath my door, no.”

  Emmett picked up the envelope with a tissue and Belle found latex gloves so she could open it.

  The handwritten scribbles said it all.

  I intend to finish what I started. You ruined my life. I intend to ruin yours. Maybe I’ll find one of your sisters next.

  TRUE BLUE K-9 UNIT: BROOKLYN

  These police officers fight for justice with the help of their brave canine partners.

  Copycat Killer by Laura Scott, April 2020

  Chasing Secrets by Heather Woodhaven, May 2020

  Deadly Connection by Lenora Worth, June 2020

  Explosive Situation by Terri Reed, July 2020

  Tracking a Kidnapper by Valerie Hansen, August 2020

  Scene of the Crime by Sharon Dunn, September 2020

  Cold Case Pursuit by Dana Mentink, October 2020

  Delayed Justice by Shirlee McCoy, November 2020

  True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn Christmas by Laura Scott and Maggie K. Black, December 2020

  With over seventy books published and millions in print, Lenora Worth writes award-winning romance and romantic suspense. Three of her books finaled in the ACFW Carol Awards, and her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence became a New York Times bestseller. Her novella in Mistletoe Kisses made her a USA TODAY bestselling author. Lenora goes on adventures with her retired husband, Don, and enjoys reading, baking and shopping...especially shoe shopping.

  Books by Lenora Worth

  Love Inspired Suspense

  True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn

  Deadly Connection

  True Blue K-9 Unit

  Deep Undercover

  Military K-9 Unit

  Rescue Operation

  Classified K-9 Unit

  Tracker

  Classified K-9 Unit Christmas

  “A Killer Christmas”

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Deadly Connection

  Lenora Worth

  Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.

  —Joshua 1:9

  To Brooklyn, New York. Thanks for letting me visit in my imagination. Thanks also to the NYPD for working to keep one of my favorite cities safe.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Plain Refuge by Dana R. Lynn

  ONE

  Brooklyn K-9 Unit Officer Belle Montera glanced back on the shortcut through Cadman Plaza Park, her K-9 partner, Justice, a sleek German shepherd, moving ahead of her as she held tightly to his leash. She had a weird sense she was being followed, but it had to be nothing. Checking her watch, she noted it was almost 5:00 p.m. Still plenty of summer light left, but the skies were darkening with the threat of an afternoon thunderstorm. Brooklyn in the summer—always full of surprises. Rain showers could be one of those.

  Belle was used to the ever-changing weather and she was used to keeping her radar on full speed. She always felt safe in her city, but she never let her guard down, either.

  Justice lifted his black nose and sniffed the humid air, then gave a soft woof. He might have seen a squirrel frolicking in the tall oaks, or he could have sensed Belle’s agitation. Still on duty, she kept a keen eye on her surroundings. Justice could always use the exercise, and she loved having him with her all the time, but this was official business.

  “No time to go after innocent squirrels,” she told Justice. “We’re working, remember?”

  Her faithful companion gave her a dark-eyed stare, his black K-9 unit protective vest cinched around his firm belly.

  They were both on high alert.

  Her service weapon sat nestled in its holster around her duty belt, her NYPD badge shone on her black uniform shirt and her partner was highly trained in protection.

  The entire department had been a little antsy lately, so no wonder she had a trace of the jitters.

  This meeting could provide the lead the Brooklyn K-9 Unit had been waiting for. A recent double homicide had been eerily similar to one that had taken place twenty years ago in Bay Ridge. Thanks to new technology, evidence in the cold case—an old leather watchband—had finally provided DNA on the killer. If this meeting panned out, Belle could help the unit get closer to finding that killer. And if he’d struck again two months ago.

  Sergeant Gavin Sutherland, the head of their unit, had warned her to be careful. He’d explained to the entire team that their suspect perp could be watching and waiting. Two members of their K-9 unit, brother and sister Bradley and Penelope McGregor, lost their parents in that twenty-year-old cold case, and either the killer had returned or they had a copycat on their hands. The team needed to stay alert.

  Belle intended to do just that.

  “It’s okay, boy,” she said, giving Justice’s shiny black-and-tan coat a soft rub. “Just my overactive imagination getting the best of me.”

  She had a meeting with a man who could have information regarding the McGregor murders. The DNA match from that case had indicated that US Marshal Emmett Gage could be related to the killer.

  The team had done a thorough background check on the marshal to eliminate him as a suspect, then Belle had been assigned to meet with him.

  Justice lifted his head and sniffed again, his nose in the air. The big dog glanced back. Belle checked over her shoulder.

  No one there.

  After a few years as a beat cop and now one year into working as an Emergency Services officer, Belle had cross-trained to be tough and unemotional no matter the situation. But added to the grueling training, sometimes her anxieties kicked in and turned things up a notch. Since she did have good instincts in spite of those anxieties, she slowed and listened to hear if any footsteps hit the strip of pavement curving through the path toward the federal courthouse near the park.

  But the only sounds were the birds chirping in the rustling trees and the swish of a hot summer breeze moving over her skin. The never-ending traffic noise echoed out over the trees and distant l
aughter followed but, for the most part, she was alone on this path. Rain clouds formed overhead while humidity covered her clothes and moistened the short ponytail at the nape of her neck.

  Slowing her pace, Belle listened. She heard through the trees what sounded like a motorcycle revving, then nothing but the birds chirping. Minutes passed and then she heard a noise on the path, the crackle of a twig breaking, the slight shift of shoes hitting asphalt, a whiff of stale body odor wafting through the air. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and Belle knew then.

  Someone is following me.

  Justice let out an aggressive growl and Belle turned around, ready to draw her hidden Sig Sauer pistol. Nothing there. No one behind her. Maybe a jogger who’d left the path?

  This time, she heard footfalls in the thick underbrush just off the trail. No doubt someone moved close behind. But were they after her or just taking a different route?

  A swoosh of air hissed by. A silencer?

  Belle waited for the impact of a bullet but instead she heard Justice let out a soft whine. Then her beautiful, brave partner fell over on his side, a tranquilizer dart sticking out of his right shoulder. He lifted his head and whimpered, his eyes beseeching. Then he passed out, his head dropping.

  “No,” Belle screamed. “No, Justice, no. Get up, boy.”

  Belle knelt next to Justice and scanned the woods and paths. Before she could get a fix on who had shot the tranquilizer, big hands grabbed her from behind and squeezed at her midsection, knocking the air out of her lungs. A sweaty man pulled her up against his chest, his hand moist and rancid-smelling over her mouth, his big signet ring digging against her skin. “Now you’ll pay for what you did.”

  Using all of her might, Belle grunted and tried to trip her captor, but he slapped at her and then flipped her around to face him. He wore a black baseball-style hat and dark shades. She fought to get free while she studied his face, but he held her back and then shoved his hands around her neck.

  Choking, Belle tried to grab at his hands but the pressure of his splayed fingers digging into her neck and cutting off her air supply caused her head to swim. Stars pricked at her eyes. Fighting against him, Belle knew she’d faint soon, and he’d finish the job. She tried again to save herself, kicking at him, but he shifted back. She grasped his sweaty shirt and raked her fingernails down the thin dark material, hoping to save some DNA. That gave her an opportunity to smash her heavy black boot against his left foot, bearing down enough that he screamed in pain. With all her might, she tried to free her arms so she could get to her weapon.

  But he didn’t let go. Instead, the angry brute applied more pressure as he shoved her down to the hard asphalt and held her throat, his grunts matching each increase of force against her neck and windpipe.

  She blinked, kicked, wished Justice would wake up and attack. Prayed she’d be able to use what strength she had left to get this brute’s hands off her neck. But the stars bursting against her skull like a sci-fi war began to explode with pain now.

  She wasn’t going to make it. This man was going to get the best of her if she didn’t find one last measure of force. With a grunt that took every bit of her strength, she shifted her body and dropped both her hands to her side, causing him to think he’d finally done her in. When he released the pressure, Belle reached for her weapon. The man pushed at her arm, making her unable to shoot. She slammed the weapon hard against his head.

  He yelled and blinked, rage turning his olive skin red. Knocking her gun loose, he sent it flying onto the grass. “You just made your last mistake.” His hands renewed their assault and this time, Belle had no energy left to fight.

  But somewhere through the ringing in her ears, Belle heard a shout. “US Marshal! Let go of the woman and show me your hands.”

  The man stopped, his nasty clammy fingers lifting away from her neck, his grunt of frustration loud. He looked down at Belle, rage pouring off him along with sweat. Belle blinked and started coughing.

  The man who’d shouted at her attacker inched his way closer and repeated, “I said get away from the officer. Now.”

  Her attacker crouched near and gave her one last hostile glare, then shot up and spun away. Still disoriented, she heard a grunt and then realized he had pulled out a gun. As a last resort if choking her wasn’t going to work?

  Belle tried to get to where he’d tossed her weapon but shots rang out, causing her to throw herself over Justice. The man took off running into the nearby woods, shooting backward toward her and her rescuer before he scrambled into the heavy thicket.

  Then she heard the sound again. A motor revving. The same motorcycle she’d heard earlier?

  “You all right?” the marshal asked as he ran toward her.

  “Sí,” she managed to croak out. “Yes,” she repeated, her shocked brain registering her lapse into Spanish. This man had to be her contact. “Go. Find him.”

  He took off, but Belle knew the perpetrator was probably long gone. She crawled toward her weapon, then hurried back to Justice.

  Belle clung to the dog, more concerned about her partner right now than the man getting away. She thought she had a good description of her attacker and she’d remember that chunky ring jabbing against her skin. How would she ever get his angry expression and the feel of his beefy hands out of her system?

  “Justice.” She knew he’d have to sleep this off, but she prayed it wasn’t worse. Her partner had to wake up. They’d been together since day one. She trusted this loyal shepherd with her life and today she’d let him down by not being as diligent as she should have been.

  Her hands shaking, she reached for her cell to call for backup.

  Before she could get her bearings, the man who’d gone after her attacker came crashing through the underbrush and then kneeled down beside her, his phone to his ear. “US Marshal Emmett Gage. Need backup and an ambulance at Cadman Plaza Park. Assault on a police officer, shots fired. Suspect headed west into wooded area north of Tillary.”

  “Motorcycle,” she whispered. “I heard one.”

  Emmett repeated to the dispatcher what she’d told him.

  “Justice needs help,” Belle gasped, her throat raw with pain while she pointed to the big shepherd. “Ask for veterinary help. Tell them I’m Brooklyn K-9 Unit Officer Belle Montera, Emergency Services, and that my partner, Justice, was hit with a tranquilizer dart.”

  The man beside her gave her a surprised stare but reported her words to the dispatcher. Then he put the phone on speaker while he checked her over, his steel-blue eyes burning her like a laser, his frown set in place and his demeanor nothing but professional. “Victim has ligature marks around her neck and bruises to her face and hands. Eyes somewhat bloodshot. Hurry.”

  Belle took in deep breaths while she studied US Marshal Emmett Gage. His official photo didn’t do him justice. Once they’d found him as a match to the DNA, she’d immediately vetted the man. Tall with stormy blue eyes and hair the color of dry wheat. Stoic, standoffish and serious—that’s how people described the man. But one of the best in doing his job. He’d helped hunt down and bring in dangerous fugitives from all over the country.

  He looked tough and no-nonsense and she immediately felt better. No, she felt safe. Up until this moment, Belle had always taken care of herself. But right now, she allowed this man to comfort her. Shock. She had to be in shock from the attack.

  Trying to focus while the marshal at her side stayed on the phone, Belle went over the case to calm her frantic mind.

  Penelope and Bradley McGregor, her colleagues—Penny the front desk clerk and Bradley a K-9 detective, deserved justice for their parents’ murders, which had gone unsolved for so long. As did little Lucy Emery, whose parents were killed with the same MO on the twentieth anniversary of the McGregor murders. Like toddler Lucy, Penny, then four, had been spared by the killer, disguised in a clown mask and blue wig. Lucy was an on
ly child, but Penny’s brother, Bradley, had been sleeping over at a friend’s house the night of the homicides, and the fourteen-year-old had been unfairly deemed a suspect for too long. The recent murders had brought up all kinds of questions and, so far, very few answers.

  Tonight, despite almost being killed herself, Belle still planned to interrogate Emmett Gage.

  Now, she could vouch for how the people she’d questioned had described Emmett. His calm radiated a commanding respect, but he seemed as tightly coiled as a giant snake and ready to strike. Yet he managed to hold all that power in check while he tried to keep her calm and watch his own back at the same time.

  His voice went low and husky when his gaze softened on her as if she were the only person in the world. “Backup’s on the way.”

  He checked Justice, rubbing the still animal’s stomach. “His pulse is weak, but I’m guessing the tranquilizer won’t keep him down long.” Lifting his chin toward the dart, he added, “Your lab can analyze this to see what they used. The dispatcher said they’d get in touch with the unit’s official vet.”

  Touched that he’d been concerned, Belle nodded and tried to speak. Then she pushed with her bruised, burning hands on the gritty walkway and tried to stand. But she promptly plopped back down into a sitting position, the dizziness swirling inside her head making her nauseous.

  “Don’t,” he said, steadying her. “You’ll be hoarse for a while and your shoulders and neck will hurt and be sore. A lot. You might have fuzzy memories and nightmares for a brief time, too. Strangulation is nothing to take lightly.”

  She swallowed, wishing she had some cold water. “You’ve been choked before?” she asked on a whisper.

  He let out what might have been a chopped-up chuckle. “One or two times when I’ve wrestled with junkies full of drugs and adrenaline.”

  Pushing at her lopsided ponytail, she croaked, “He got the jump on me.”

  His eyes softened. “Don’t like that, huh?”

  She shook her head, mortified that she hadn’t managed to shake her attacker. “I’m usually more prepared.”