Chance E-Book

Carolyn M. Bowen

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

They took her lover. Getting him back could be the last thing she ever does...

High-powered Atlanta attorney Sydney Jones never backs down from a case. So when her bodyguard and boyfriend is accused of murder, she's determined to fight for him in court. Instead, the charges are suddenly dismissed, and he vanishes without a trace...

Suspecting CIA involvement, Sydney takes on a lawsuit with Chinese Black Society ties and finds a startling connection to her missing man. But as she digs deeper, she discovers that someone may kill to keep the secret.

Will this dangerous cat-and-mouse game reveal the truth or put a bullet in Sydney's head?

Chance is the second book in the Sydney Jones psychological thriller trilogy. If you like fearless heroines, page-turning action, and shocking twists, then you'll love Carolyn Bowen's gripping story.

Leseprobe

Chance

Sydney Jones Series Book 2

Carolyn M. Bowen

Copyright (C) 2019 Carolyn M. Bowen

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2021 by Next Chapter

Published 2021 by Next Chapter

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Also by Carolyn M. Bowen

FICTION

Cross-Ties

The Long Road Home

Primed for Revenge

Sydney Jones Series Book 1

NONFICTION

Cross-Stepping Your Way to Success

For Lily

Chapter 1 Trouble in Paradise

The daily grind at the law office kept Sydney Jones on her toes. The highlight of her day was the return home and a relaxing evening with Walker, head of security at her office and personal bodyguard. For their dining and special events, Walker hired security out of his own pocket, so he could give Sydney his full attention.

Sydney's favorite place was home, where Walker grilled or cooked some delicious dishes for their meals, followed by lovemaking into the wee morning hours.

Tonight, she needed to talk to Walker about their trip to Savannah for the Georgia State Bar Association meeting. She'd received the invitation because apparently, her firm was up for some awards, according to the accompanying news release.

Her father-in-law, Mr. Joseph Jones, would be in attendance, as he was a long-time member of the Georgia State Bar Association. She didn't think the timing was right to tell him she was in a relationship, although it had been three years since Ray's death. There was also the possibility that it would appall him she was dating someone from a different ethnic group. She did not understand; but either way, she didn't want to shock him at this event by introducing Walker as her boyfriend.

Her planned speech was one easily changed for the award given. If only she could deliver an eloquent request to Walker to act as her bodyguard only in the presence of Mr. Jones and bar association members without hurting his feelings. After they put away the dishes from their meal and poured a fresh drink, Sydney said, “I've been meaning to talk to you about our Savannah trip.”

Frown lines formed across Walker's forehead, expecting questions from the tone of Sydney's voice. “What's wrong?” he asked.

“I haven't told my father-in-law about us and don't want to surprise him with the news in Savannah. Will you play along for the weekend in front of him and other bar association members? I hate to ask you, but it would mean a lot to me for you to accompany me as my bodyguard.”

Walker was aware of the deep feelings of respect she had for Mr. Jones and replied, “Don't worry. I've got your back.” He lightly touched her cheek with his fingertips and kissed her teary-eyed face.

Sydney sighed with relief and relaxed as he wrapped his muscular arms around her. They walked side by side to his downstairs bedroom in her townhome, where they spent most of their time at home. She watched as he placed his cell phone on the charger, taking one last look before plugging it in. He'd been doing that a lot lately. She wondered why the sudden interest in checking messages; and when she'd awakened during the night, she saw his phone light up with incoming text notifications.

She hoped it wasn't the government trying to draw him back in a leadership role for the U.S. Special Operations Command, known as MARSOC, formed over a decade ago as part of the global fight against terrorism. The CIA had contacted him recently about special assignments they needed him to perform with his military background. She hoped he'd stay steadfast as her security chief and decline their offers; they were building a professional and personal life together now.

Walker knew Sydney noticed the rapid-fire cell calls and messages he'd gotten lately. He'd hoped the caller would understand the message he didn't want to talk and quit calling and texting.

Not Roxanne: She was on a mission to gain his help for making a comeback in the music industry. The late-night calls were getting more brazen and erratic emotionally, with her slurred words promising him the moon. She wanted a bodyguard to support her latest move in the media to reclaim her crown.

Roxanne was a singer-songwriter whose music took her to the top of the pop charts. Unfortunately, her status plummeted as rapidly as her stardom. She couldn't catch herself on the way down. Walker saw it coming and gave notice of his leave.

Roxanne spent more than she was earning from record sales. She'd developed a drug habit as a way of coping with reality when her career nosedived. She'd lost her ability to write new songs, and her band members had long since moved on to hotter stars. Yet, she wanted to keep up the persona of being a successful artist.

Enticing Walker to act as her bodyguard would help paint the picture; she wanted the public to see. He was halfway in love with her when he was head of her security back in her glory days. It wouldn't be too tough to convince him the affection was returned. They'd move in together; in the condo she'd bought when flying high. When in public, his presence would call attention to her, and perhaps a record label would pick her up again? She'd call her old publicist and ask if she would help plant news stories about her on the web and highly rated entertainment news outlets. For old times sake and a boost to reinvent her career, she might help an old acquaintance.

Roxanne realized where Walker was working. The news was all over Atlanta about Sydney Jones and her new law firm. She'd score his private number from the security office and contact him.

Putting on a stellar performance as a con artist, she gained the information from the receptionist. She waited until after hours to contact him, for she planned to use her sexiest voice to entice him over to her place for a drink and catching up.

When she called, he was cordial but unflappable in not accepting her offer to meet. She expected their meeting to be a breeze to set up and hurt by his rejection. She wasn't one to quit when this meant the difference in getting her career back on track. She'd keep trying to convince him to meet her until he gave in to her wishes. Calling him late at night when he was relaxing and using her most soothing and sexy voice, she tried to coax him over for a nightcap.

Walker pressed his fingertips to his temple as he listened to Roxanne's slurred words for the umpteenth time. She would not quit, and Sydney was already suspicious of his late-night calls and texts. She wanted his undivided attention and wouldn't expect anything less. He called Roxanne and said, “I'll drive over tomorrow morning after checking in at the office.”

“Good,” she said. “We've got a lot of catching up to do.” Walker drove Sydney to the office and checked in with his security staff before the meeting with Roxanne. He really didn't want to meet her, but decided it was the best way to convince her he wasn't interested in a new job. Roxanne needed to quit and move on with her life, so he and Sydney would have peace.

A quick high was what she needed to be in the mood to convince him to provide her security. She rummaged through the notepad where she kept her contacts for making the buy. She didn't keep the contacts on her phone in case something should happen, like losing her phone again.

She tried to remember which ones she didn't owe money to. Through some friends from her past, she'd been able to establish a line of credit. But since her income had plummeted, she'd been carefully choosing her supplier. The drug dealers were testy about selling her drugs she couldn't afford, but she needed the high.

She made the call and delivery was en route and would arrive early enough for her to have a snort and poised for Walker's arrival.

The doorbell rang, and she rushed to greet him for her delivery. She opened the door and the delivery guy pushed his way into the condo, demanding money for this and previous orders. She said, “Add this buy to my account!”

“You don't have a charge account,” he growled.

“I need this now,” she said. “I'm having an important meeting that'll put me back on top.”

“Too Bad,” he said. “My orders are to collect what you owe. Then give you the drugs.”

“I don't have any money,” she said, adding in a breathy, wispy whisper, “But you'll have it by the end of the month.”

“You're pissing me off,” he said. “And I don't like that.”

He looked around her condo for valuables and came up empty-handed. All she had were platinum record plaques from the past, and they were worthless on the market.

He turned to leave, but she shot past him, almost tripping over the long, teal negligée she wore. She said, “Leave the drugs, please.”

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, his dreadlocks swaying as he continued toward the door. She gripped his jacket in a tight fist and held on as he moved toward the exit. He turned, and jaw jacked her hard onto the unyielding marble floor. The crushing blow knocked her headfirst onto the rock-solid landing. A gaping hole in her skull spewed bright-red blood with every heartbeat until her last.

When he left the condo, her crimson blood looked ghoulish encircling her dead body. His boss wouldn't be happy, for now, the money she owed was uncollectable. It was an accident. He was thankful he'd not taken off his gloves to leave fingerprints.

Walker drove over to her high-rise condo where he'd spent time when her career first took off. He pushed the elevator button to take him up to her suite and braced himself for the meeting. He rang the doorbell and waited. She didn't answer right away. Concerned, he tried the doorknob and was surprised when it opened. He gasped when he spotted her lying on the floor in her own blood. He pulled her hair away, checked the pulse on her neck, and found none. Not hesitating, he dialed 9-1-1- from her house phone and left it off the hook as he exited and closed the door behind him, making sure it was unlocked for the paramedics.

He drove to the nearest gas station and parked to settle his nerves. He wondered what happened at Roxanne's home. Apparently, she wasn't kidding about needing a bodyguard. Someone had it in for her and cashed in this morning. She'd not been dead long; her body was still warm to the touch. He wished he'd arrived sooner; he could've protected her.

He rarely drank during the day, but grabbed a beer since he was there. The scent of her blood was still in his nostrils, and he didn't intend to return to the firm with the memory fresh in his mind. Besides, Sydney was apt at picking up his moods. What would he tell her—or did he even need to?

He decided on a fresh change of clothes and was glad he kept extra at the office. He'd go directly there and change before checking in with his security staff. He popped a fresh piece of spearmint gum in his mouth to camouflage the odor of the beer and recalled the crime scene.

Walker was aware he'd not taken precautions about leaving fingerprints at her condo. It would only be a matter of time before the Georgia Bureau of Investigation contacted him, as it was a high-profile murder, one they'd normally work.

Lt. Thomason was alerted and went into the meeting about Roxanne's murder. GBI was taking over the investigation from local authorities. The crime scene was secure, and they stored evidence in the storage locker. Thomason grabbed the nearest chair and eased into the conversation, questioning if DNA evidence or fingerprints were found at the crime scene.

When an agent interjected Walker's name as a suspect, it intrigued him. He listened to his background report, eloquently summarized by the new kid in the agency; a real fireball, some said. It was no surprise to him that Walker had worked for Roxanne when she first became famous, nor by the list of corporate bigwigs, he'd handled protection for prior to going into personal and tech security protection.

He'd tell them now; Walker was an innocent bystander. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was head over heels in love with his present employer, Sydney Jones. He didn't want to be the one to question him about his whereabouts on the morning of Roxanne's murder. With Sydney looking over his shoulder, he couldn't make mistakes, especially with her love interest.

He didn't need to worry. His captain informed him that the CIA had intervened in Roxanne's case for national security reasons. He couldn't wait to learn how it played out. He'd bet Walker was innocent, but even if he wasn't, his highest and best use to CIA operations would take precedence over an investigation and court of law, anyway.

Chapter 2 For the Country's Good

Walker felt his past was catching up and pitching him into a black hole right when pleased with his current position and life. He'd deliberately made a change from providing security for corporate executives. There were some he'd like to put a bullet in himself. Their egos matched their wealth, and if the public learned the debauchery they prescribed to, their stock would likely fall. At the very least, the public's perception of their brand would suffer.

A friend from his military days asked him to check with Sydney Jones's law firm. She was looking for a head of security. It impressed him, as he'd heard about her kidnapping, and family issues. Her parents' death resulting in a financial windfall along with an unscrupulous boss placed her safety in jeopardy. She needed a bodyguard, and head of security for her new law firm. Walker told his friend to recommend him, and he'd follow through.

He didn't expect a vibrant, exotic beauty and a smart, successful woman. He was just looking for his next gig, where he didn't have to worry about the defiant behavior of his employer or the option of returning to military operations. The CIA continued to recruit him with the tagline of “for the country's good.”

He'd responded that when they paid him corporate wages, he'd consider their offer. He thought nothing more about their interest as he dug into his latest protection detail. Walker didn't plan to fall in love with Sydney. He blamed their closeness in proximity, horrid circumstances in her life, and no friends but a paid confidant to comfort her. There was no one to hold her in their arms, and that's what the lady needed—to cry and release the pain in her life.

Sydney struck a chord in his heart. Her beauty, along with her spark to keep going through the hell in her life, enamored him even more. Did he love her? Yes and her ability to stand up and fight for what she believed in. Call him a softie if you like, but this woman touched his soul.

When he closed his eyes at night, he could still sense her womanly fragrance and touch her soft skin in his mind. The government had him now. It didn't take him long to realize they'd framed him for Roxanne's murder and then got his case dismissed when he agreed to become their agent.

The problem was Sydney may still think him guilty of murder. The agency didn't give him time to discuss the dismissal of charges against him. All he said was the government needed him, and he was catching an early morning flight.

They didn't discuss his recent legal problems. They loved one another all night, in the purest sense of the meaning.

He took one last look at her sleeping peacefully, checked her security alarm system, and left her townhome in dawn's early light.

Damn the CIA, he thought. How much more did he need to give them before they would release him from their clutches for good?

He'd hopped the direct flight to Cuba from Atlanta and slept, dreaming of happier times with Sydney.

Chapter 3 Crazy Making

Sydney was reeling from Walker's abrupt departure. Apparently, he'd signed a confidentiality agreement with the government stating to never contact her again. She didn't believe Walker murdered Roxanne; the government had taken over the investigation and released a statement ruling her murder a suicide. The local news station read their prepared statement.

It's a sad day when a star's lights dim and slowly burn out. Unable to withstand the pressure of the limelight, Roxanne took her own life. It happens too often with young artists who make it big when entering the stage, then suddenly fall from grace. Life can be cruel and leave them wanting their youth and lifestyle from the past. May she rest in eternal peace. Friends, family, and adoring fans will miss her.

Sydney's emotions were in a whirlwind. One moment she was relaxed, with goals to achieve, the next nauseous, temperamental, and subject to tears, even when dealing with her staff. She blamed it on Walker and his taking the deal from hell with the government rather than fighting for his day in court.

Her office manager and friend Sarah Levins suggested that there was more to her moods than her recent life events. She asked, “Sydney, have you had a pregnancy test? Your symptoms resemble my sister's when she first became pregnant.”

Running her fingers through her long, straight, ebony hair, she replied, “No. I've not considered that possibility. I'm on the pill.”

“Get a home pregnancy test to check before seeing your doctor.”

“Well, that's one step forward for treating my crazy mood swings. I'll buy one tonight, but I don't think that's the problem.”

Sydney stopped at the pharmacy on the way home for the tester. She poured a glass of chardonnay to relax after a hectic day at the office. She took a frozen Italian dinner out of the fridge and microwaved it for dinner. It reminded her of Walker's cooking and could smell his homemade spaghetti sauce as the timer went off on her cardboard dinner.

She wondered what he'd think if she was pregnant. She'd take the pregnancy test first thing in the morning, when her urine was more concentrated for accurate results, according to the pamphlet included.

The next morning, she awakened early and remembered the pregnancy test. She unwrapped it and followed the directions, thinking. This shouldn't be happening. She was on the pill; a strong one, according to her doctor.

Within minutes of using the tester, she read the results in disbelief: positive. She was pregnant with Walker's child. And he'd never know—or probably care—now that he had a new life.

Sydney looked back over her, and Walker's life together. Yes, she could have gotten pregnant. They had lots of sex. But if she put money on it, she'd believe their recent vacation to St. Lucia sealed her fate.

The whole week was magical, and the love she saw in his eyes was unmatched by anything she'd experienced in her life, not even from her late husband. They had mad, satisfying sex, and even when she felt bruised from their lovemaking, it wasn't enough. She wanted the surreal experience of their lovemaking to go on forever.

Upset about the pregnancy and her options, she wondered, should she have this child as an unwed mother to continue the family line? Or should she wait for Mr. Right and get married, and then have children, in the proper order of doing things according to southern societal customs?

The door was closed for an abortion. She could spend hard time in prison, according to the new law recently passed in Georgia. And the options were closing in neighboring states. She didn't know if she could abort Walker's child, unlike being raped by a thug.

Plus, just look at her life. It was dangerous. Although she hadn't hired a personal bodyguard after Walker's leaving, she had an around-the-clock security force protecting her and her company. How could she bring a child into this lifestyle?

But did she have the guts to give up her baby for the greater good with no future contact?

She started searching online for adoption agencies that would place her child in a loving home. When she started filling out the questions about ethnicity, she decided not to lie about it. They'd probably get a very dark baby. She was of Indian heritage, and Walker was as black as black can be. She probably had some black running through her veins.

Her Native American ancestors prodded through the spring-fed Northwest Florida Rivers with some expanding to the far reaches of the alligator-infested Everglades before settling. Along the way blacks and Indians meshed, each battling trials inherent to their ethnicity.

Sydney thought, I will probably deliver the blackest baby in history, and they're not readily adopted. And how could she explain this to her whitish colleagues and southern country gentleman father-in-law in Atlanta? Or did they really need to know?

She needed to visit an OB-GYN and relieved her former personal physician, who thought she was a slut from her previous medical history, wouldn't know. She'd ask Sarah Levins who are sister used during her pregnancy. Perhaps she could do the same if her experience was gratifying.

Sydney dove into work to take her mind off Walker and the cruel hand the government dealt them. They frustrated her. He didn't get his day in court. Although she couldn't represent him because of their relationship, there were top-notch attorneys in Atlanta who could. He—they—never had a chance.

She checked with Georgia Bar to do some pro bono work, which always made her feel better. She had a foundation set up to cover the costs involved in representing those cases. She took the case of Nancy Lynn, a woman in dire straits.

Nancy Lynn was the mistress of Liu Chang, a member of the Chinese Black Societies. They found Chang dead in his high-rise condo, and Nancy Lynn was the prime suspect. Nancy Lynn had a Southern country upbringing. She was an attractive blonde who'd settled in Atlanta after a brief stint trying to launch an acting/modeling career in Hollywood. She'd decided on Atlanta because motion picture studios were moving there, and more movies were being produced using local talent.

She was also a Georgia native and former beauty queen, having grown up in a rural farming community within a hundred miles of the bustling culture of metro Atlanta.

Nancy Lynn was paying her dues with the Boutin Acting Agency to reap better representation down the line. She took mundane assignments, even playing an extra in major movie productions to further her ambitions. She did whatever it took to create a breakthrough for her acting career.

She'd met Liu Chang at a reception given in a downtown hotel banquet room. Her modeling agency sent her to the event to act as a hostess, basically to just smile and greet the guests. The event was a welcoming of parties who had contributed to a charity drive in the wake of catastrophic damages from a hurricane hitting the neighboring southern state of Florida. Liu Chang's corporation was a top donor recognized at the event.

She greeted him and recognized the expensive cut of his tailor-made suit, fitting every inch of his well-toned body. When their eyes met, she recognized his unabashed interest in her. They chatted briefly before the dinner. Upon leaving, he stopped to say goodbye and left a business card. He asked if she'd like to meet him for a drink in the hotel bar, and she said yes. Their relationship developed from there. She moved into his condo and traveled with him unless he went back to Beijing, where he had a family.

She was aware he was married and had a son. He'd told her it wasn't unusual for Chinese men to have a mistress; many had over one. The powerful and elite men in power were expected to have their dalliances. However, it would raise suspicion if she accompanied him home. His colleagues didn't welcome foreigners, not to mention his family.