Deadly Holidays
Authors: Alexa Grace
Deadly Holiday
By Alexa Grace
This ebook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2012 by Alexa Grace
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover design by Christy Carlyle of Gilded Heart Design
ISBN-10: 0985593946
ISBN-13:
978-0-9855939-4-0
For my amazing, loyal readers, and street team.
May your holidays be merry and filled with happiness.
A special thank you to Sgt. Adrian Youngblood of the Seminole County Sheriff's Office, Major Crimes Unit, who patiently answered my questions and reviewed passages for accuracy as I wrote this book.
My appreciation also goes to Police Chief Patrick Flannelly, of the Lafayette Police Department, who keeps me straight on law enforcement in Indiana.
Thank you also to Jakob Mortimore, who gave me his expertise for the search and rescue scene.
Any mistakes here are entirely mine.
Thank you to my editor, Vicki Braun.
Much appreciation goes to the Beta Reader Team who devoted their personal time to review each page of this book: Karen Golden-Dible, Gail Goodenough, Melody McAllister Novellino, Barrie MacLauchlin, Rhonda Dennis, and Kelly Struth.
Thank you to Jeff and Karen Dible for allowing me to use a photograph of their lovely home for the design of this cover.
Finally, I want to express my appreciation to my family and friends. Without their love, encouragement and support, this book would not have been possible.
Contents
About the Author — Alexa Grace
December 21
Anne Mason-Brandt peeked through sleepy eyes at her clock, noticing it was five forty-five in the morning. The handsome man sleeping soundly next to her, who was the county prosecutor, would wake up in fifteen minutes. She rolled over to wrap her arms and legs around his warm, hard body. As his arms tightened around her, Anne felt she was the luckiest woman in the universe. She was married to the man of her dreams, who'd given her two beautiful children, and a happy life she'd
once thought was beyond her reach.
Anne traced Michael's broad shoulders and hard-sculpted body with her fingertips, smiling when his eyes fluttered open. He pulled her close and planted tiny kisses on the sensitive places around her neck that sent a delightful shiver up her spine. Anne sighed, tilting her head to give him better access. She sighed again, this time in frustration, because he abruptly stopped when they heard a knock at the door, and two loud barks from an excited dog.
Michael softly whispered, "We'll continue this later," as their five-year-old twins, Melissa and Michael Jr., bounded into the room and onto the bed, followed by their Giant Schnauzer, Harley.
Melissa wrapped her little arms around Anne's neck and said, "Grammy-Daisy said that Santa is watching us to see if we're being good."
Anne smiled as she visualized Daisy, housekeeper, friend, and the children's Grammy, using this holiday bit of information to get the sometimes-unruly twins to behave. "Honey, if you are behaving, then you've nothing to worry about. Right?"
Stroking the big dog's head, Michael Jr. shot his mom a skeptical look and said, "Does Santa watch Harley, too? Because yesterday Grammy got mad because he tracked in dirt on her clean kitchen floor."
Anne glanced at her husband who was trying not to grin, and said, "It sounds like Harley should wipe off his paws when he comes inside. Maybe we should get him some boots." The twins giggled at the visual and their dad pulled them into a bear hug, sending them into shrieks of laughter.
<><><>
After breakfast, Anne helped her husband with his tie and kissed him before he left for work. She wandered into the formal living room where she admired the six-foot Christmas tree that Michael and the kids had chosen from a wooded area of their farm, along with Hank, their farm foreman. Michael had made hot chocolate that they'd sipped by the fireplace, as the children decorated the tree. The memory made her smile.
Upstairs, Anne pulled off her nightgown and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water stream down her body. Squeezing some rose-scented shower gel into her hand, she rubbed each arm until a cloud of suds appeared. Anne put more gel into her hands to wash her left breast then her right. Warning spasms of alarm erupted within her when she felt a pea-sized lump as hard as a stone in her right breast. Panic like she'd never known before welled in her throat. No, it couldn't be. Anne had lost Marion – a friend who was more like a mother – to cancer, and the horrible disease had become her greatest fear. Perhaps she was imagining something that wasn't there.
Anne ran her fingers over the area again. The lump was still there. She leaned against the shower wall, staring but not seeing, her breath bursting in and out. She slid against the water-slickened shower wall until she sat cross-legged beneath the pounding water. She hugged herself, rocking back and forth, as she wept. Anne indulged in her personal pity for a few minutes before she got on her feet. She resolved to tap into the strength she knew she had deep inside. She wrapped herself in a towel and called her doctor.
<><><>
Prosecutor Michael Brandt looked at the frightened boy in his office and wished he could avoid the discussion that would ensue. The kid, sitting stock-still, was thin with auburn hair and a sprinkle of freckles across his nose. His legs weren't long enough to reach the floor, and he nervously kicked one back and forth.
That any little boy should have to testify against his father was wrong on many levels. That he should have to do it this close to Christmas was dreadful.
Michael cleared his throat as he moved around the desk to sit next to Shawn Isaac. "I want to start out by telling you how brave I think you are. I know testifying today isn't going to be easy for you. Do you have any questions?"
Shawn looked up at Michael, eyes wide with fear. "Will my daddy be in the room?"
"Yes, Shawn. He will be sitting at a long table with his attorney."
"Will he be able to hurt me?"
"No, Shawn. I won't let him hurt you. Neither will the judge nor the policemen in the room."
Shawn sighed as he considered this. "What about my mommy? Will Daddy be able to hurt her?"
