Chase (Jill Lewis Mysteries Book #1) , livre ebook

© 2004 by Susan Wales and Robin Shope
Published by Revell a division of Baker Publishing Group P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287 www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2011
Ebook corrections 03.21.2017
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owners. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
ISBN 978-1-4412-3945-7
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture is taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
Scripture is also taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
From Susan
To my family My mother and father, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Huey, for the gift of storytelling, my husband Ken, and to my daughter and granddaughter, Meg and Hailey Chrane.
From Robin
To my beloved husband, Rick, who daily seeks God’s heart and will, and to our two children, Kimberly and Matthew, who are God’s most gracious gifts to us.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42

Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
1
Oh! How many times we die before death ! —Julie de Lespinasse
How could she have been so careless? Ordinarily when Jill worked late, she hailed a cab to drive her home, but tonight she opted for a late stroll to unwind before tomorrow . . . her big day. Maybe the biggest day of her career, if she lived to see it.
Heavy footsteps pounded the pavement behind her until she turned the corner of M Street. She listened intently for the sound of someone following her but heard nothing now. Desperately searching for any sign of life spilling out of the lighted doorways and on to the sidewalks of the business district, she saw there was none. Even the flickering lights of the corner liquor store seemed dimmed. The streets of Washington, D.C., were deserted, but Jill couldn’t shake the feeling that some unknown pursuer was still out there and following her.
Chill ! She forced herself to calm down and think of tomorrow. Soon visions of explosive headlines floated through her mind. A smile curled at the corner of her lips as she imagined the shock wave that would roll across America as its citizens unfolded their newspapers to read the words wielded by her pen. The story she had investigated for almost a year would not only change the course of history but also her life. By the next morning, lucrative job offers, media appearances, and seven-figure network deals would pour in across her desk.
But Jill’s pleasant thoughts quickly faded when she heard the shuffle of feet again. Perhaps the late-morning edition might sport a different headline: “Top Senator Questioned by FBI for Reporter’s Murder.” She fumbled in her purse for her cell phone and felt it near the bottom. Cradling it in her hand, she pressed the on button, waiting for it to light up, but instead it flickered and died. Why didn’t I remember to put it on the charger last night ? Reaching down inside her purse again, she curled her fingers around the tiny canister of pepper spray that dangled from her key chain.
Whirling around in her head were all the “what ifs,” tormenting her until she suddenly remembered that the presses had already rolled. It’s too late for the senator to get rid of me . But this fleeting surge of confidence quickly vanished when three men emerged from the shadows and lunged at her. Attempting to back away, she realized it was too late. She was trapped.
Jill tried to keep her voice from quavering. “What do you want?” she demanded.
But the men remained silent. Breathing deeply, she commanded herself to stay calm. Hadn’t she taken risks before and been in situations far more perilous than this one? Carrying large sums of money and meeting her shady informants in dark alleys late at night or in the wee hours of the morning? But then, she’d always had her cell phone in her hand and a taxi waiting. And even though she’d taken a couple of self-defense classes, there was no way she could fight off three attackers.
She began to scream. “Help me! Is anyone there? Help me, please!”
To her astonishment, the screams sent two of the perpetrators scurrying like rats into the dark alley. But the larger of the men hadn’t flinched; he towered before her like a mountain.
“What do you want?” she demanded again.
With a look of arrogance the man uttered a deep groan, mockingly sending smoky clouds floating out of his mouth, permeating the cold winter air with the fragrance of cheap wine.
Muffling a faint cry, Jill searched his face, trying to determine her next move.
His dark eyes glared at her from underneath a red knit cap pulled down over his forehead. A bushy black mustache drooped down, hiding his lips, and he was clad in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a shabby sweater riddled with holes exposing a tattooed chest. The man stepped toward her.
Suddenly, he pounced, grabbing her by the hair and trying to stuff her scarf into her mouth. Thinking quickly, she flung her briefcase at his groin, managing to spray hot pepper in his face at the same time. The man shook with rage and then staggered, enabling her to break away.
Adrenaline pumping, heart racing, Jill felt as though she had wings on her feet as she soared down the sidewalk to escape her tormentor, but goose bumps pricked her arms when she heard him cough. Turning slightly, she saw the man striding across the street after her. Frantically she hiked up her skirt and began to sprint even faster.
Jill gasped for air. Six blocks down and nine more to go. She figured there was no use wasting her energy by screaming for help, and focused every ounce of her strength on making her legs move faster toward home.
After a few more blocks her long strides had significantly widened the distance between her and the stalker. For the first time since the chase had begun, Jill believed she might make it home alive. But at the corner of Washington Avenue, she bumped into an empty newsstand. She clutched her left side as a sharp pain seared through her hip. Stumbling, she hastily struggled to get back on her feet, but she wasn’t quick enough—the footsteps behind her came to an abrupt halt. A chill danced up her spine as she felt fingers coiling around her neck, dragging her backward toward a darkened alley. Biting, scratching, and screaming, she tried to escape from the attacker’s powerful grasp, but his fingers squeezed even more tightly around her neck, causing her to sputter and gasp for breath.
Words from long ago sprang into her consciousness.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death .
Was that a Bible verse she had memorized in a long ago Sunday school class?
I will fear no evil .
The Twenty-third Psalm.
For thou art with me .
“God, please help me!” she whimpered as the lights slowly dimmed. Just at the moment she thought she would lose consciousness, a vehicle careened around the corner, screeching to an abrupt halt in front of her and her stalker. In slow motion, the attacker released his death grip; Jill’s head flopped like a limp rag doll. Dizzily, she staggered toward the car.
“Need a cab, lady?” the driver called out the window. He released his seat belt and reached over to open the back door. “Get in.”
Gasping for air, Jill couldn’t speak but leaned into the cab and collapsed into the safety and warmth of the backseat. She glanced out the rear window. The street was vacant of any creature, alive or imagined. Turning back around, she leaned forward and let out a sigh of relief. “Sir,” she rasped breathlessly, “did you see?” She paused to catch her breath. “Did you . . . did you see that man chasing me?”
“Nope, didn’t see a thing. But you shouldn’t have been out walking this time of night. A lot of bad stuff goes on in this town, but you can relax, lady, you’re safe with me.”
“Thank you,” Jill mumbled. The driver’s voice was reassuring.
Within moments she was stepping out of the cab in front of her apartment building. Henry, the doorman, stood waiting to let her in the building.
With a large white-gloved hand, the elderly doorman took Jill by the arm to help her out of the cab. Henry greeted her with a tip of his emblemed hat perched atop a silver Afro. Muscles bulging beneath his immaculate gray uniform, the retired FBI agent towered over Jill making her feel both safe and secure.
“You working late tonight, Miss Lewis?” Henry smiled at Jill, exposing a pair of dimples in his high-boned cheeks and a dazzling set of perfectly aligned teeth.
“Yes, a bit too late,” Jill responded as she turned to pay the cabby.
But the cabby was gone.
“That’s odd. He took off before I could pay him.”
“Don’t you worry, he’ll be back for it, and I’ll pay him. You get on upstairs.”
Jill tried to slip money into Henry’s hand, but he refused. “You can take care of it later.”
“Thanks. Good night, Henry.”
“It’s morning,” the doorman reminded her as they both looked down at their watches to see the hands moving well past midnight.
“So it is. Uh, good morning, then, Henry.”
Jill took the elevator to her tenth-floor apart