Echo Read online

  Text copyright © 2018 Anne Conley

  All Rights Reserved in accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of author’s rights.

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison along with a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover photography by Tresal Photography

  Cover Model Devon Ryan

  Cover designer: LoveBooks Cover Art

  Editor: Tiffany Fox; Beyond DEF

  Interior Layout: Deena Rae Schoenfeldt; E-Book Builders for Beyond DEF

  Table of Contents

  Other Books

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  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

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  Chapter One

  About Anne

  Anne’s Series

  Other Books

  Pierce Securities:

  Craze

  Wire

  Click

  Grab

  Murmur

  Bond

  Seek

  Hitch

  Playing With Fire

  Truth or Dare (Coming 2018)

  Hide and Seek (Coming Soon)

  Spin the Bottle (Coming Soon)

  Hot Lava (Coming Soon)

  Book B!tches

  Power of Love

  Master of Love

  Hunt for Love (Coming Soon)

  Fostering Love (Coming Soon)

  Will to Love (Coming Soon)

  Love’s Ward (Coming Soon)

  Stories of Serendipity:

  Neighborly Complications

  Chef’s Delight

  Dream On

  Hot Mess

  Falling for Him

  Gambling on Love

  My Mistake

  Wrecked

  Saving Charlie

  Four Winds:

  Falling for Heaven

  Falling for Grace

  Falling for Hope

  Falling for Faith

  Falling for Cyn

  Falling for Eternity (Complete Four Winds Box Set)

  Stand Alones:

  Best Laid Plans of Boys and Men

  The Fixer Upper

  #MeetCute: Fortune’s Kiss

  Acknowledgements

  So many people have been with me through this journey with the Pierce boys and I want to thank each one of them individually, but I’m positive I’ll forget some. Forgive me and know that I’m super flakey on a good day.

  Tiffany and Deena Rae: You guys have been with me from the get-go with this series, listening to me whine, yanking me off ledges, and trying to outdrink me when the going got tough. I appreciate both of you and feel like you guys are a part of my family, whether you like it or not. We have many more adventures ahead of us, and I’m looking forward to them.

  Lj: You’re my girl, and I’m so glad. Thank you for letting me ask you all the piddly shit, and for doing all the major shit.

  Devon Ryan and Carlos Salazar: You both helped me firm up the vision I had for these covers, and even though I supplemented your photos with David Wills (Eric Battershell) and Stanley Fields (Jeffrey Todd), it was the initial images you two came up with that gave the “flavor” of the covers for this series, and I really appreciate it.

  Mom: Yeah, I know you still haven’t read any of these books, but whatever. You’re still the main reason I did this writing gig in the first place. You fostered my imagination, didn’t make fun of me and all my imaginary friends, bought me journals, and instilled a love of the written word in my tiny little brain. For that alone, I owe you tons, but the fact you gave me life is everything. Thank you!

  Hubmeister and Spawns: Y’all … I can’t even with you. You talk me up in the most inappropriate places, complain about me living on my laptop, and deal with Ramen noodles and frozen pizza during releases without too much complaining. I love you guys hard.

  The Conley Corner: Y’all make me laugh every day, and there is no way you know how much I appreciate you.

  My Launch Team is amazing. They help me get the word out about these books during release week, and for some reason, they love it all.

  My beta readers help me get the book in shape, make sure my characters have depth, my plot doesn’t have holes, and give me great ideas for these endings.

  My loyal readers and fans: Without you guys reading my books, I wouldn’t have a purpose for publishing them. You’ve fallen in love with my Pierce boys and nagged me about Simon for almost two years. HERE HE IS!!

  And finally, to all the crew at The Pint: I know you probably think I’m an alcoholic, and maybe I am, but it’s because you guys have been (and continue to be) so supportive of me, each in your own unique ways, I can’t stay away. I love you all (especially Dawn and Allison). Thank you.

  Dedication

  To Boyspawn ~ Here’s your big rig chase scene—complete with bombs and explosions. It’s all yours..

  Chapter One

  “Ugh.” Lacie threw the dead daisies in the trash. The card was made out to “Yoga Girl”, so she knew it was from them, and it was more than creepy that they had shown up at work.

  Staring at them, she felt nothing short of a foreboding at the image. It was still happening, and now it had invaded her school. Her guts twisted at the brownish flowers in the plastic liner of the can. Lacie sighed. She could ignore this all she wanted, but it wouldn’t stop.

  The flash of a life lived in constant fear had her clutching her stomach just as she shoved the image to the back of her mind.

  Her dad, or here, her boss, was ever vigilant. “Everything all right?” He poked his head out of the principal’s office with a questioning look on his already lined face.

  She didn’t want to concern him with her own dramas. Lord knew he’d had enough of his own in his lifetime. She was grown and could take care of herself; she totally didn’t need to drag Dad into this.

  “Um, yeah. Just a mistake with the florist, I guess. Who delivers dead flowers?” She laughed, trying to make a joke about it, but the truth was, it freaked
her out.

  Her kitchen was decorated with daisies. The live kind. The painted kind. The kind on her dishes and cup towels. The delivery, on top of the other two attacks in her home, was freaking her out a little.

  Her dad mumbled something to Mr. Slovac and came into the office where she was signing out. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m fine.”

  “Humor me.” He smiled at her softly, the fond smile of a doting father with his only daughter. His hand at her back was insistent, and she knew better than to argue with Daddy. With a sigh, they left the office and walked to the parking lot. “You okay? Any more surprises?”

  She wouldn’t have even told her dad about this stuff, but the fact she’d had to call in late the second time she’d gone to the police station to file a report had alerted him. Papa Bear that he was, he protected her, even though neither of them understood the danger she was in.

  Two separate attacks in her home, from two separate men. Both of them she’d fought off, screaming and raging in a total panic at finding them in her house while she was sleeping. They hadn’t expected her to fight back so defiantly, clearly. Both of them calling her Yoga Girl.

  And now dead flowers had been delivered to Yoga Girl.

  It wasn’t a coincidence, but she couldn’t tell her dad about it. He’d almost lost his mind when he’d found out about the others.

  At her car, she let out a moan of disappointment at the flat front tires. Before she could ask for a ride home, a truck with tinted windows pulled up.

  “Hey there. You need a ride?”

  Too convenient. The smile too leery. The eyes too squinty.

  It was too much.

  Bunching her hands into fists, Lacie stormed over to the truck without a thought. “No, I don’t need a ride. Why can’t you people just leave me the frack alone? I can’t take any more of this bullhonky.” She tried to strike the man’s grinning face with her fist, just as he was licking his lip, but she missed, grazing it. The entire episode was embarrassing, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and she panicked before realizing it was her dad. He pulled her back from further attacks on her part, which sort of pissed her off.

  “Now, look here,” he began in his stern, former-principal-current- superintendent voice. It was the one he used at school board meetings and when she’d really been bad, but the man in the truck didn’t seem to care.

  “See ya later, Yoga Girl.” He winked at her and sped off.

  Dad pulled out his cell phone and made a note of the license plate before he spun around to face Lacie. “That’s it. You’re staying with me.”

  This is exactly what she didn’t want. Whoever was behind this was taking away her independence and putting her right back in her daddy’s overprotective clutches. She loved her dad, she really did, but she was an adult. Lacie had been living alone for almost twenty years; going back to live with him was not an option.

  “I can run by the police station on my way home, Dad. Please.”

  “Something has to be done about this. If you’re not doing something for your safety, I have to think about my schools.” As the superintendent of the district where she worked, he had a responsibility—she understood that—but it wasn’t going to make her run and hide.

  “I get it, Dad, but you were here, we scared him off. He won’t come back.” That seemed to be the deal. The men all had one chance, and when she’d foiled it, they had been upset. Nobody had come back for a repeat.

  Yet. This guy had said “see ya later.” Like he was planning to.

  “I don’t see how you’re dealing with all this, Lace.” Dad’s voice softened with sympathy. Or pity.

  “What can I do?” The tears were falling freely now, and she couldn’t stop them if she tried. “Should I quit my job and hole up in my house behind steel doors, bulletproof glass? Never leave again? It’s not like I have much of a life anyway.” She finished with a final, self-pitying mutter, “Might as well.”

  “I just don’t know how you manage. That’s all.” He pulled her into a comforting hug as she let the tears flow.

  “I box them up in my head, like I do all the bad things. They’re in there with Mama, and I tell myself she’s giving them hell as long as I don’t think about them.”

  He pulled back, holding her shoulders. “With that damn frying pan.” The words were spoken with humor, but it didn’t meet his eyes. Lacie hated bringing up Mama in front of him. He put his arm around her shoulders and tugged her to his car. “Tonight? Just spend tonight at home. For me? Consider it like a sleepover. I’ll get pizza and run by Redbox for some sappy romance flicks.”

  Her heart was still pounding, the man’s leer still prominent in her head, so she said yes.

  She wished her mother were still around to explain things to Dad, but she wasn’t. Lacie put that out of her head and nodded her defeat. Dad’s for the night it was.

  Chapter Two

  Simon sat at his desk across from Mr. Hill, who wore an off-the-rack suit, stress lines on his face, and more gray in his hair than black. The man had a kind, albeit tired, smile. He was the new client.

  “Somebody is stalking my daughter. She thinks it’ll just go away eventually, but I don’t think it’s going to stop until she’s dead.” His voice cracked at that last part, but Simon simply motioned for him to continue. Last night had not gone as he’d intended, and he was hoping this job would be the distraction he needed.

  “Does she have a police report filed?” At the man’s nod, he flipped his notebook to a clean sheet of paper and started taking notes. “What’s her name?”

  “Lacie Hill.”

  Simon wrote the name at the top of his paper and drew a line under it, then he sent Hollerman a text message.

  Can you try to get a police file for Lacie Hill? It would be reports she filed, not a record.

  To Mr. Hill, he responded, “Okay, what’s happening?”

  Mr. Hill tapped his fingers on his leg, but he was otherwise composed. “Her home has been broken into twice in the last month while she was sleeping. She managed to fight them off, but she refuses to get a gun to protect herself, and it doesn’t seem to be stopping. She’s had flowers sent to the school where she teaches, and someone slashed her tires last week. I’m at my wit’s end. As the superintendent of the district, I’m coming to you to keep her safe. Now that they’ve followed her to work, I have a responsibility to my students.”

  “They? There’s more than one stalker?”

  Mr. Hill nodded. “Yes. Both the break-ins were different men. And the man who approached her after her tires were slashed was different as well. But they all called her Yoga Girl.”

  That was highly unusual. A woman with multiple stalkers suggested something bigger at play. But what? Of course, like any great puzzle, Simon had dozens more questions to ask. Because of his preoccupation with the man, Simon’s thoughts flew to Jonas immediately, but this wasn’t his M.O., Lacie wasn’t Bonnie, and he’d gone deep underground. It probably wasn’t him, but Simon couldn’t stop his brain from going there, so he forced it somewhere else.

  “Does she do yoga?” It could be something to do with a gym she went to or something.

  “She used to do it in her home but hasn’t in a while. She says she hasn’t done it since the attacks started because it felt weird.”

  “Why is she in school now? Isn’t it summer?”

  “Lacie is teaching kindergarten in the summer enrichment program we offer for the inner-city kids. It’s mostly a glorified daycare for the children who can’t afford it, but we try to squeeze in some instruction time. The structure involved is integral for some of these kids who don’t get it at home.”

  The fact his daughter didn’t accompany Mr. Hill was telling, and it begged the num
ber one question to be asked.

  “Does she know you’re coming to us?”

  “No. She’s wanting to get on with her life and not make a big deal about this, thinking it will draw attention or something.” Mr. Hill didn’t roll his eyes, but the exasperation in his voice was apparent. “She’s all I have left in this world, besides my job. I can’t let anything happen to her. Security at the school’s been beefed up as much as we can afford, but I’m really worried, especially because I think there are aspects of this whole situation she hasn’t been telling me.”

  A ding from his phone signaled an incoming text from Hollerman.

  On it.

  “Like what?” Simon prompted, intrigued.

  Mr. Hill shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s why I need you guys. I can get you a job working with her, and I think the house across the street from her is still for rent. I want eyes on her twenty-four hours. I’ll pay whatever it takes to make sure she’s safe, even if it takes all my savings and retirement. I want to know who’s behind this, and why, and I want them behind bars where they belong. I’ve been frugal with my money and have some savings stashed. You can have it all if you stop these jerks.”

  A tendril of unease snaked up Simon’s spine. He didn’t do bodyguard jobs. He thought about the other jobs they had in the pipeline, wondering who he could pull from what, but his mind came up a blank.

  He was it.

  With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, listening to the familiar and comforting squeak of the leather. “Okay. Let’s get some details, and I’ll have you fill out some paperwork with Miriam. I’ll need specific dates, copies of any police reports you may have, as well as a list of Lacie’s habits.” Simon stifled another sigh and hoped Miriam could pick up some of the slack with the never-ending paperwork he was behind on. Maybe he should upgrade to the fancy computer shit she and Evan had been pestering him about. “When do I start?”

  Chapter Three

  Simon had been working out for about twenty minutes, letting the echoes of clanking weights bring a semblance of order to his brain. Pierce Securities was busy. Clients were coming from everywhere. The high-profile case involving the senator’s shooting by the Pierce Securities team was still in the news, since his played-down legacy, Jonas, was missing. Quinten’s girl, Valerie, was also making news, as the former debutante was having a philanthropic comeback. Zack and Bonnie were still in hiding in the small New Mexico mountain town, having more fun than necessary. Hollerman was picking up the slack, making everything a little smoother, but things were still hectic.