Red Herring
She thought no one would ever come looking for her … she was wrong about that.
Run and hide…
Over and over again, the images flashed through Tess’ mind. The gun in her hand, a man bleeding and writhing in agony on the ground, and her now missing mother’s utterly terrified face. Desperate to get far, far away from it all, she fled and eventually nestled into a remote corner on the island of Cuba, convinced that no one would ever come looking for her. But she was dead wrong about that.
Find her and bring her to justice…
It was a case that plagued Detective James Sullivan’s mind for the better part of a year. How could this woman have polished off her entire family and then just vanish? The question kept him up on most nights. But if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that she — whoever she was — would not continue to evade the law. Not on his watch. He would do what he needed to do to hunt her down and bring her in. Even if it meant bending a few rules.
Find her and kill her…
Victor wasn’t new to the game. He’d done some downright sadistic things and had seen even worse. But never in his life had he been part of anything as bizarre as this job. His employer’s instructions were crystal clear. Find the woman in the photo and bring her to him alive and well. He would dispose of her himself. But the longer Victor remained on the job, the more he questioned what it is his employer really wants … and whether he was going to have to break protocol and take matters into his own hands.
Reviews
A thrill ride that keeps you guessing and wanting to follow to see what happens.
If you like your books to hard men with grit and rugged souls, then you will love Logan. If you want a dame that has more danger in her manipulation than her curves, Tess is your girl. The writing is simple, clean, crisp but razor-sharp.
Excerpt
One
Miguel could feel eyes on him the instant he entered the cabana.
He took a quick look around, but nothing seemed amiss. Plenty of families and a few stray tourists peppered the golden sands of the Santa Maria del Mar. Sunbathers occupied the bright blue beach chairs. The waters were calm, save for the children splashing around. The sun was glowing on the horizon, unobstructed by clouds, and there was a gentle breeze that swayed the palm fronds.
Everyone looked to be in good spirits.
Miguel took a breath, pulling deeply on the briny sea air. He could feel the winds of change coming to Cuba. Change, he decided, was good.
He’d just come from another successful business meeting with the hotel management, and he wanted to wind down with a beer before heading home. It was hot out despite the breeze; his upper lip was rimmed with sweat. He loosened his tie and sat down at the tiny bar. “Cristal, please.”
The bartender nodded, opened a bottle and placed it on the counter in front of him. Miguel tried to pull out a couple of pesos to pay him, but the bartender held his hand out, shook his head. His money was no good here. He took a deep, long swallow and was instantly cooled. His mind drifted to the long drive ahead of him.
He hadn’t seen when the man approached the bar, but Miguel scanned him warily when he got close. The stranger wasn’t from around here, that much was clear. Miguel knew everyone there was to know in Cuba and he did not know this man.
Nor did he want to know him, he decided in a split second.