Carol J. Post - Dangerous Relations

Hell do anything to save his niece...
In this The Baby Protectors novel

When her sisters murdered, navy man Ryan McConnell insists on protecting Shelby Adair and their nieceespecially after someone tries to kidnap little Chloe. But can Shelby trust the childs uncle? After all, shes convinced his familys behind the attacks. But the longer Ryan shields them, the more Shelby wonders if becoming a forever family is their only shot at survival.

Someone was here. Ryan nodded toward the door.

Shelby shifted Chloe to one hip and looked. A breeze lifted a sheet of paper that was affixed to the door. Her chest tightened as a sense of vulnerability swept through her. She scanned the area. No one was loitering nearby. Unless someone was watching them from the woods.

When she glanced back at Ryan, tension emanated from him. He was wearing a light windbreaker-type jacket. Did he have his weapon underneath?

Lets get inside. He nodded toward the door.

She stepped onto the landing and jammed the key into the lock. Ryan waited until she and Chloe were safely inside before he followed them in.

Call the police.

Shelby tensed at the urgency in his tone. What does it say?

Paraphrasing? Hes watching.

Shelby began to pace. Whats that telling us that we dont already know? Addy has seen him twice. You chased him.

Theres more. He said someday therell be no one here to protect you. Ryans jaw tightened. And Chloe might become collateral damage.

Carol J. Post writes fun and fast-paced inspirational romantic suspense stories and lives in sunshiny central Florida. She sings and plays the piano for her church and also enjoys sailing, hiking and campingalmost anything outdoors. Her daughters and grandkids live too far away for her liking, so she now pours all that nurturing into taking care of two fat and sassy cats and one highly spoiled dachshund.

Books by Carol J. Post

Love Inspired Suspense

Midnight Shadows
Motive for Murder
Out for Justice
Shattered Haven
Hidden Identity
Mistletoe Justice
Buried Memories
Reunited by Danger
Fatal Recall
Lethal Legacy
Bodyguard for Christmas
Dangerous Relations

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Dangerous Relations

Carol J. Post

The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him...

Psalms 145:18

Thanks to my friend Nicole Little, who showed me around North Bend and Snoqualmie and patiently answered a gazillion questions.

Thanks to my son-in-law Mike Daunis, who helped me with all things navy. (Thank you for your twenty years of service.)

Thanks to my sister Kimberly Wolff, who not only plots with me but has a built-in radar and works hard to keep this directionally challenged author straight. Youre the best sis ever!

Thank you to my editor, Dina Davis, and my critique partners, Karen Fleming and Sabrina Jarema, for making my stories the best they can be.

And thank you to my husband, Chris, for encouragement, computer help, brainstorming and buying me chocolate.

Contents

S helby Adair cruised down I-90, trying to drum up some enthusiasm for the evening ahead. No matter how she pitched it, she couldnt find many bright spots in the prospect of spending two or three hours with her self-absorbed sister.

But Mias company wasnt the reason shed scheduled the dinner date. She was an aunt. And she was going to be a good one.

She cast a glance over her shoulder and moved into the far-left lane. Soon shed cross Lake Washington and join the other vehicles that made up Seattles rush-hour traffic. But during the late afternoon, coming in wasnt as bad as going out. Barring the unexpected, she should arrive at Mias apartment complex in thirty minutes.

She was seeing her sister twice in one month. That was a record. But shed had a valid reason for avoiding contact. Between caring for their dying aunt and keeping the diner afloat, shed had a full plate. Dealing with Mias theatrics would have sent her over the edge.

Now that her aunt was gone, she had no excuse. Besides, she did want to connect with her fifteen-month-old niece. And with her dysfunctional childhood nine years behind her, she might have a shot at developing a relationship with one of her siblings.

It wouldnt happen with her older sister. Lauren had escaped at eighteen, moved to the other side of the country and never looked back. She hadnt even responded to Shelbys voice mails and Facebook messages about their aunt. She hadnt come to the funeral, either.

Ten minutes later, brake lights lit up the road, and Shelby slowed to a crawl. This was one reason she was glad shed left Seattle for the sleepy, picturesque town of North Bend. It was only thirty miles away but had always felt like a small chunk of paradise.

She finally exited the interstate and negotiated her Lincoln Town Car through a series of turns. Mias apartment complex was ahead on the right. Red and blue lights strobed through trees still bare from winter.

As she moved closer, the muscles drew tight across her shoulders. Two Seattle police cruisers and a crime-scene unit sat in front of the building that housed Mias apartment.

Her sisters words echoed in her thoughts, fragments of a conversation theyd had after the funeral. Mia had said there was something going on at the club where she worked, that if she stumbled across exactly what it was, her life would be in danger. Shelby hadnt taken her seriously at the time.

She still didnt. Mia was the ultimate drama queen, the proverbial girl who cried wolf. Anything for attention. Shed been crafting fantastic stories since she was old enough to talk.

Shelby stopped in a visitor parking space and killed the engine. When she reached for the door handle, the lights strobing in her side mirror sent tension through her again.

She tried to shake it off. This was a three-story apartment complex. There were more than thirty units in Mias building alone. The probability that the police vehicles had anything to do with Mia or little Chloe was low.

She stepped into the chilly March air as a Toyota Prius approached. When it passed, her gaze locked onto the back and stuck. Large black letters stretched across the white rear bumperMedical Examiner. Parked three spaces down was a white van with the same designation.

Her breath hitched and something dark settled over her. The presence of the medical examiner meant one thing.

Someone was dead.

While the Prius parked, she sprinted toward the building, heart pounding in her chest. It couldnt be Mia. What her sister had said at Aunt Beas funeral was an attention-getting ploy, just like all the other times. Having grown up with Mia, Shelby had her number. Letting the tales get to her was never a good idea.

She bypassed the elevator and ran up the steps, taking them two at a time. Shed never been to her sisters apartment, but Mia had given her the number312.

When Shelby burst into the third-floor hallway, a vise clamped down on her chest. Two apartments away, the door was ajar. A woman stood in front of the opening, soothing a crying child in her arms. Tears had left streaks in the womans makeup. She wasnt familiar. The child was.

Where was Mia? Why was Chloe being held by a crying stranger?

Shelby rushed forward, then skidded to a stop. The gold numbers affixed to the metal door put to death the irrational hope that the apartment belonged to someone else. The woman shifted Chloe to her other hip, and Shelby peered around her.