In Too Deep. Sharon Dunn

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In Too Deep - Sharon Dunn Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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tires. “Guess they wanted to make sure I couldn’t get out of here.” The notion sent a whole new wave of fear through her. The man she’d seen earlier with the drugs must have done this to her tires while Baseball Hat chased them.

      A crashing sound in the trees down below signaled that the attacker was back on their trail.

      They needed to get off the road before they were spotted.

      Joseph pivoted and headed back toward the shore with only a vague plan in his head. They weren’t going to outrun this guy. Joseph had lost his gun somewhere in the water. They had to find a hiding place. This guy was persistent beyond anything that made sense.

      They came out beside the boat that had been wrecked on the shore. It was a big boat with a belowdecks area. Lots of places to hide and take a man by surprise if needed.

      With Sierra at his heels, he climbed the ladder and slipped below deck.

      She followed him. “Don’t you think he’ll look in here?”

      “We’ll be able to hear him if he comes on deck. It’s two against one in a confined space. We can take him by surprise. Let’s see if we can find a good hiding place.”

      Below deck consisted of several rooms, including what must have been a galley kitchen at one time, though it looked like it had been scavenged over the years. A skeleton of a counter remained. Sections of the countertop had been pulled off. Doors were missing from the cupboards. A dirty frying pan lay on the floor.

      “I don’t see a place to hide.” Sierra paced through the rooms.

      The deck above them creaked. Both of them tilted their heads. Could be the wind buffeting the dilapidated structure. The old boat had all sorts of creaking and groaning going on.

      Maybe it had been a mistake to come down here. Still, it seemed like the best way to shake or subdue their pursuer.

      More creaking surrounded them, and then the distinct tapping of footsteps above them indicated someone was on deck. Joseph’s gaze darted around the room. In a little alcove that had probably been a pantry, he spotted a tarp and pieces of wood.

      More footsteps above them.

      He ran over and lifted the tarp. She slipped under. He piled some boards on top to make it look haphazard. Then he nestled in beside Sierra.

      “We only take him if we have to,” he said. The better scenario would be for the assassin to give up. Taking the man out meant Joseph’s cover might be blown.

      They were squeezed into the tight space, their shoulders pressing against each other’s. He could hear her breathing in the dark. Not much light got below deck this time of night. As far as he knew, the pursuer didn’t have a flashlight with him.

      The pursuer’s footsteps echoed as he moved through the belowdeck rooms.

      Dust filled Joseph’s nose, causing a tickling sensation.

      The footsteps drew closer. The pursuer was in the galley. There was a scratching sound and then more footsteps as the man moved around the room.

      Joseph closed his eyes and counted. If he thought about how badly he wanted to sneeze, it would only make things worse. The gentle expansion and collapse of Sierra’s body where it pressed against him stopped. She must be holding her breath.

      The man took several steps toward them. His feet scratched the dirty floor as if he was turning in a circle.

      Silence descended like a shroud. Joseph didn’t dare even swallow for fear of being found. Every muscle in his body tensed. He was ready to jump the guy if he had to.

      The man let out a humph noise, and then his footsteps retreated. They waited, still as statues, silent as the night while the footsteps clapped the boards below deck and then creaked above them.

      They waited squeezed together in the tight space, not daring to move. Sierra’s hair smelled like the lake. Their damp shoulders touched.

      Minutes passed. He lifted his gaze upward. Was the man perched outside, ready to pounce on them once they emerged one by one?

      Sierra twitched. She let out a breath. “I think he’s gone,” she whispered.

      He moved away from her and pulled the tarp from his face. The hiding place had not been a great one. He was still concerned that the man was watching the boat. Maybe he didn’t want to take on both of them at once in a closed space. For whatever reason, his primary target seemed to be Sierra. Why?

      He wondered if she was as innocent as she seemed. A lot of violence in the drug trade was over turf wars.

      If she was involved, maybe he could get her to flip, give up some information. The fact that he’d saved her life gave him leverage. But now was not the time to deal with that. He needed to make sure they had truly gotten rid of their assassin.

      Joseph cupped her shoulder. “I’ll go up first and let you know when the coast is clear.”

      She nodded.

      He stepped lightly over the debris and floorboards and then eased up the steps that led to the deck. Once on deck, he crouched behind a pile of rope and boards. He scanned the area around the boat. Moonlight washed over it, but the surrounding area was covered in shadows. He stuck his head back down the hole that led below deck. “Clear.”

      The stairs creaked as Sierra made her way up. She stepped on deck and scooted up beside him. They scurried to the edge of the boat. Joseph climbed down the rope ladder first. He waited below while Sierra made her way to the ground.

      He pivoted one way and then the other, still listening, still on high alert.

      Sierra’s body banged against the boat. She hung on to the broken rope ladder as it swung back and forth. To her credit, she hadn’t screamed, but the noise when she’d hit the boat would have alerted anyone close by.

      “I got you.” He reached up, wrapping his hands around her legs and allowing her to slide to the ground as his hands steadied her.

      They stood facing each other. His hands were still on her waist. She was close enough for him to feel her breath on his neck. “Sorry,” she whispered.

      “It’s not your fault it broke. It’s worn out.” He let go of her and turned, staring out into the brush. “I don’t think he would give up so easily. He’s probably watching the road, thinking that’s the most likely direction for us to go.”

      She pulled her phone out of her pocket and pressed a couple of buttons. “My phone is ruined from being soaked.”

      He took his phone out, as well. “I’m sure mine is, too.” He stared at the black screen and touched the keypad. Nothing. He’d had it turned off, not wanting to risk it ringing while he was on surveillance. “You know this area better than I do.”

      She crossed her arms over her chest. “I have a friend whose cabin isn’t too far from here. She lets me take kids up there.”

      “Is there a phone?”

      “No, but we can get dried out and eat something. She has some mountain bikes. It will take longer, but we can take the trails

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