Vendetta (Otter Creek Book 10) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  About the Author

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  About the Author

  VENDETTA

  Rebecca Deel

  Cover by Melody Simmons

  Copyright © 2017 Rebecca Deel

  All rights reserved.

  #

  To my amazing husband. I love you.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Paige Jensen’s fingers hovered over the keyboard of her laptop. Heart slamming against her ribcage, she listened for the strange noise again. The building should have been empty.

  Total silence.

  She sighed. Maybe her imagination was running wild. In recent weeks, she had lost count of the times she whipped around to confront the person following her, but saw no one except friends and neighbors giving her puzzled looks.

  The hallway outside her office at the Otter Creek Community Center was wreathed in shadows, as it should be at ten o’clock at night. The knowledge didn’t slow her racing heartbeat.

  Although Otter Creek wasn’t a crime-riddled metropolis, having her cell phone handy might be wise. She walked to the closet where she stored her purse and outerwear. Thrusting her hand inside the bag, she felt around for her phone, then frowned. Where was her phone?

  She mentally retraced her steps through the day and came up with zilch. She blew out a breath. Great. Now she had to search the rooms where she’d been during the day. In other words, a tour of the entire building.

  Another uneasy glance toward the hall which led to the center’s hub. For the first time, Paige questioned the wisdom of working so late by herself. She hadn’t planned to stay, but realized she needed to finish the report on the center’s activities for the town council meeting before she left tonight. Her plan to work on it throughout the day had been a bust. A broken pipe, spilled paint, multiple fights, skinned knees, and strained muscles had derailed her plan. She doubted tomorrow would be better.

  The day had been crazy, starting with old man Lawrence complaining some of her teens had unlatched the gate so Bonnie and Clyde, his granddaughter’s camels, were free to roam around town. Those camels were notorious escape artists, especially Bonnie. Paige wasn’t convinced her teens were to blame for the prank. According to the grizzled farmer, though, the teens were to blame for all the mischief in town.

  Another glance at the dark hall. Even if she went home to her grandmother, Paige still needed her phone. If one of the kids found it before she did, they would capitalize on the opportunity to post goofy pictures or a smart aleck quip on her social media links meant to promote the community center. She had been battling Mayor Parks for almost a year to increase the center’s budget. She couldn’t afford negativity associated with the center.

  Despite the creepy feel of the empty community center, Paige walked to the door, paused to listen again. Still nothing. Must have been her imagination. Why didn’t she feel safe?

  She flipped the switch and light flooded the hallway, dispelling the shadows. Empty. Paige rolled her eyes. Nice. She’d scared herself. Confident all was as it should be in her building, she walked the length of the hallway and stepped into the gym, the last place she remembered having her phone in her hand before dealing with a seven-year-old girl’s skinned knee.

  She turned on the gymnasium lights and was halfway across the floor to the stage when she heard the noise again. Paige hesitated, her head whipping in the direction of the boys’ locker room.

  Not her imagination. Someone other than her was in the center. She should check. On the other hand, Paige didn’t want to be the too-stupid-to-live heroine of a book or movie, one who went to investigate a mysterious noise and ended up dead. Her grandmother hadn’t raised a fool.

  She should call the police. Yeah, they would probably laugh at her for calling about a funny noise. Still, she would feel better having a burly policeman to go in the locker room first.

  Paige hurried to the stage. Relief flooded her when she spotted her phone partially hidden by the curtain. Scooping up the instrument, she tapped the screen.

  Before she could dial the number for the Otter Creek police, the locker room door opened and one of her teens skidded to a sudden stop when he noticed the lights were on. The tall, skinny boy with a head full of blond curls shifted his backpack off his shoulder and glanced around. His eyebrows soared when he saw Paige.

  “What are you doing here, Ms. Jensen? Shouldn’t you be asleep or something?”

  Thankful she wasn’t about to meet an ignominious death, her lips curved into a smile for Dalton Reagan. “Asleep? It’s just after ten. I’m rarely asleep before midnight.” Not with her schedule and the mountain of paperwork associated with her job. Who knew community centers generated enough work for three people when the budget only allowed for one and a half people? “What are you doing here this time of night?”

  Dalton patted the backpack at his feet. “Forgot to grab this when I left this afternoon. I have homework to do before first hour tomorrow.”

  Paige’s eyebrow rose. “And you’re just now noticing your bag was missing?”

  The teen lifte
d one shoulder. “Been busy.”

  He must have been helping his younger brothers with their schoolwork and showers. The fourteen-year-old was doing his best to hold his family together while his mother worked two jobs to put food on the table and pay the bills. “You’re lucky I was still here. Otherwise, you would have been out of luck until tomorrow morning. And, no, I don’t want to hear you planned to pick the lock again.” The gangly teen was quite skilled at handling locks. He’d learned when he kept forgetting his house key, and he and his brothers were locked out of the house while Mrs. Reagan worked her second job, a job without an understanding boss.

  Another shoulder shrug. “I haven’t forgotten your last lecture. Besides, I didn’t have that much work left. I finished most of it this afternoon. Could have completed the rest before class started.”

  “For once, I’m glad I was here this late. Can’t have you rushing through an assignment. You need a good grade in English.”

  The teen rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me. I better go. Mom will be worried if I’m not back soon. See ya.” And he was gone.

  Paige grinned. This same boy six months before couldn’t be bothered about school. Now he returned to the center to retrieve his backpack for schoolwork. She couldn’t wait to share the news with Marcus Lang, pastor of Cornerstone Church. The handsome dark-haired minister volunteered at the center and was as invested as Paige was in the lives of Otter Creek’s kids. He’d been instrumental in helping Dalton see the value of school.

  She’d asked Marcus how he got through to Dalton. He had smiled and said his success was a secret between him and Dalton. As long as the teen was on the right track, Paige didn’t care how Marcus succeeded, just that he had.

  Retracing her steps to the office, she dropped onto the squeaky desk chair. Time to shut down for the night. She was too tired to wrestle with the numbers and personnel problems. Guess that meant coming in early tomorrow morning and finishing the report. The council meeting was tomorrow night at 7:00. That should give her enough time to complete everything.

  Paige shoved her computer into her bag. After turning off her desk lamp, she grabbed her purse and computer, and walked from the office three hours past the center’s official closing time. Passing each area, she turned off the lights she’d switched on earlier, once again giving the center she loved a creepy feel as the shadows created deep pools of darkness.

  Perfect setting for a horror movie. She shoved that thought to the back of her mind. No need to spook herself again.

  Her footsteps echoed in the gym. She glanced inside the girls’ locker room to make sure the light was off, then approached the door for the boys’. As she reached to push open the door, lights in the gymnasium went out.

  Paige froze. No way. Those hideously expensive lights in the gym couldn’t all go out at one time. She’d just replaced most of them two months ago. Had a breaker tripped?

  A brush of fabric against a wall made her pivot to face the foyer doors which led to the street. “Dalton, did you forget something else?”

  No response.

  Cold chills surged up her spine. “Come on, Dalton. This isn’t funny.” As she spoke, Paige heard the nervousness in her voice. Whoever was messing with her was sure to hear it as well. Maybe that would be enough. No doubt the prankster would make fun of her.

  A heavy footstep sounded close. Too close for her peace of mind. “Who’s there?” When no one responded, she shrugged her purse and computer off her shoulder and placed them against the wall. If she had to run, she didn’t want the extra weight slowing her down.

  “Last chance,” she said, forcing strength into her voice despite the terror boiling in her gut. “My phone is in my hand and I’m calling the police.”

  Paige tapped her screen and realized she had made a serious mistake. The screen shined like a beacon and showed the intruder exactly where she was standing. She spun and ran toward the other side of the gym where the corridor exited beside the library. She could hide or run across the square to the police station where a cop was always on duty at the desk.

  Before she sprinted more than ten feet, the intruder hit Paige from behind. Her phone flew out of her hand and skidded across the gym floor out of reach.

  She fought against the heavy weight holding her pinned to the floor. “No!” Harsh laughter sent panic cascading through her. Paige redoubled her efforts, dislodged the man, and scrambled away.

  The intruder caught her again as she reached the corridor. He grabbed her arm in an unbreakable grip, spun her around, and shoved Paige against the wall.

  “What do you want? Money? You’re out of luck. The center doesn’t have money on site.”

  The man’s hands wrapped around her throat and squeezed.

  Paige fought hard to break his hold to no avail. His fingers were like a vise, his arms roped with muscle. She desperately needed air. Unless some miracle happened in the next two minutes, she was going to die.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Marcus Lang climbed into his truck, slammed the door, and tipped his head back against the seat. His heart ached for the sweet family that just lost the patriarch of their clan. Jeb Kirkland had lived a long and full life, his death expected after a long illness. Small comfort for his family, though. At times like this, Marcus felt inadequate, unequal to the task.

  After another silent prayer for the Kirklands, he drove from the parking lot of Memorial Hospital. He should go home and eat. The frantic call from Kirkland’s wife had come before Marcus heated one of the meals left in his freezer by Serena Blackhawk, owner of Home Runs, a personal chef service.

  As a diabetic, he couldn’t afford to skip meals. Unfortunately, his job was 24/7 and that meant he missed meals when a person or family experienced a crisis.

  He cruised slowly down Main Street, glancing at the community center as he drove into the Otter Creek town square.

  Marcus frowned. Paige’s car was still parked in front of the center, but the lights were off. Had she gone to dinner with friends and left her car to pick up later? He almost continued toward home, but couldn’t shake the urge to check on her.

  He circled the square and parked his vehicle in the space beside hers. If the doors were locked, he’d know she was fine and could take himself home to eat and fall into bed. The next few days would be a challenge for him and the Kirklands.

  Marcus walked to the double doors and tried the knob. Unlocked. His stomach knotted. Had Paige forgotten to lock the door? He’d never known her to do that. In his experience with the center’s director, she was careful to protect the facilities.

  He twisted the knob and stepped inside the darkened interior of the gymnasium. “Paige?” he called. A curse and running feet sounded in the darkness.

  His skin prickled seconds before someone shoved him to the side and raced from the building. Marcus slammed into the gym wall, fought to regain his balance.

  He started to go after the guy, but he was more worried about Paige than the intruder. “Paige?” No response. More concerned now, he felt along the wall for the light switch. A second later, light flooded the large cavernous area where he’d spent a number of hours playing basketball with kids and adults alike.

  Marcus quartered the gym. A quick glance around told him she wasn’t here or on the stage. Office? He started that direction when he spotted a pair of tennis shoes at the mouth of the corridor on the other side of the gym.

  Ice water poured through his veins as he sprinted to the corridor and the person crumpled on the floor. “Paige!” He dropped to his knees, brushing long, dark hair away from her face. He prayed she was still alive. A world without Paige Jensen’s bright light in it didn’t bear thinking about.

  Marcus checked for a pulse, breathed a sigh of relief when he found a steady beat. He turned on the hall light, then grabbed his phone. He called for emergency help, afraid to move Paige.

  Two minutes later, Nick Santana, a friend who was also an Otter Creek police detective, walked into the gym. “Marcus?”
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  “Here, Nick.” He waved the cop over.

  “Ambulance will be here in two. What happened?”

  “I’m not sure. On the way home from the hospital, I noticed Paige’s car parked out front but all the lights were off in the center. Since it looked odd, I checked the doors. They weren’t locked. I came inside, called Paige’s name. A man cursed, ran toward the front doors. He shoved me into the wall and took off. I found Paige on the floor, unconscious.”

  At that moment, Paige moaned, stirred.

  Marcus gripped her hand. “Don’t move. Help is coming.”

  “Marcus?” she croaked, winced.

  “You’re safe now.” He frowned. She hadn’t sounded hoarse earlier when he’d dropped by for a game of pickup basketball with the elementary kids. That’s when he noticed the red streaks on her throat. Fury erupted in his gut. That creep had choked Paige. “Nick.” He motioned to her throat.

  The detective crouched beside the fallen community center director, scowled. “Paige, it’s Nick Santana. Who did this to you?”

  She shook her head slightly.

  Marcus and Nick exchanged grim glances. Was she protecting someone or did she not recognize her attacker?

  “Talk to me,” Nick encouraged. “I need all the information you can give me to find this guy.”

  “I heard a noise, went to the stage to retrieve my phone. Dalton Reagan was in the boys’ locker room to get his backpack. He left and I returned to my office to shut down for the night. When I was going to my car, the lights went out. I thought it might be Dalton, playing a joke. It wasn’t. A man laughed. I turned, ran. He tackled me. I fought him off and escaped. He caught me again, shoved me against the wall, and choked me. I thought he would kill me.”

  “You’re lucky Marcus stopped to check on you.”

  “Please find my phone. Gram will be calling soon. I don’t want to scare her if I don’t answer.”

  “I’ll find it. Did you see the man who attacked you?”

  “Too dark. He was heavy, though.”

  “Heavy?”

  “Muscular. I tried to break his hold around my throat, but couldn’t.”