Always Watching Read online

  © 2016 by Lynette Eason

  Published by Revell

  a division of Baker Publishing Group

  P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

  www.revellbooks.com

  Ebook edition created 2016

  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—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. 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, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-4550-2

  Some Scripture used in this book, whether quoted or paraphrased by the characters, is taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com

  Some Scripture used in this book, whether quoted or paraphrased by the characters, is taken from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright 1952 [2nd edition, 1971] by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  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 coincidental.

  Published in association with Tamela Hancock Murray, The Steve Laube Agency, 5025 N. Central Ave., #635, Phoenix, AZ 85012

  “Lynette has written another fast-paced book—lace up your tennis shoes and grab a water bottle. It’s a race against death.”

  —DiAnn Mills, author of Deadlock

  “Eason’s Always Watching had me ‘always reading’ until I devoured it. Riveting suspense, complex characters, and a twisty, turning plot kept me up until I finished it at 2 a.m. This is one of the best romantic suspense novels I’ve read in a long time. Highly recommended!”

  —Colleen Coble, author of The Inn at Ocean’s Edge and the Hope Beach series

  Praise for the Hidden Identity series

  “Being the first novel in a brand-new series, all that can be said for this author is that she certainly started out with a ‘bang’! For any reader looking for ‘edge-of-your-seat’ thrills, this series is the perfect gift.”

  —Suspense Magazine on No One to Trust

  “The author doesn’t let up until the end, making No One to Trust extremely difficult to set down. I enjoyed her Deadly Reunion series, but this book surpasses those by far, and I hope this is only a glimpse of what we can expect from the Hidden Identity series. Fans of Eason’s and readers of Christian suspense will definitely want to check out this new series. I, for one, cannot wait to get my hands on the next installment.”

  —Fiction Addict on No One to Trust

  “Readers will be on the edge of their seats till the final chapter.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Nowhere to Turn

  “Eason has written an exciting nail-biter that readers are sure to enjoy.”

  —Booklist on Nowhere to Turn

  “The third book in Eason’s Hidden Identity series starts off with action and doesn’t let up until the end. Fast-paced and intriguing, the romance between Jackie and Ian develops naturally. The mystery is not easy to figure out; even astute readers may be fooled.”

  —RT Book Reviews, 4 stars on No Place to Hide

  As always, this book wouldn’t be possible without the love and support of my family, so I dedicate it to you. Jack, Lauryn, and Will, I love you like crazy.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Endorsements

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  Excerpt from Book 2

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Lynette Eason

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  [1]

  THURSDAY EVENING

  The music played in the background while the charity’s benefactors finished their dinner. A few danced, some chatted. Others looked slightly bored with the whole thing.

  But one person caught her eye.

  She watched the elegantly dressed female from across the room. She fit in nicely with the crowd, blended well. But stood out in one regard.

  “He’s mine,” she whispered. “He’s mine and you can’t have him. Go away.” No one knew what it had taken for her to get here tonight. No one knew the work she’d put in to making sure she was at this event. No one. And no one was going to ruin it either.

  So what should she do? She had seen the woman following him, watching him, her eyes tracking his every movement, never leaving him alone. Even following him to the bathroom and back. Oh, she was discreet. She never made a move to approach, but she watched.

  Her heart thumped in time with the upbeat music. How could she get him to see her? Truly see that they belonged together and had belonged together . . . forever?

  Grudgingly, she admitted that the woman was pretty. Dark hair and eyes. Just the kind of woman he would be attracted to. “Well, you can’t have him.” She paused to draw in a deep breath and take another bite of her orange-glazed duck.

  It would be fine.

  She chewed, swallowed, and looked up. And met the eyes of the woman across the room. She dropped her gaze back to her plate. Why was she looking at her? Did she see something? Could she know what she was thinking?

  Another deep breath. Of course not. She couldn’t get stupid now. She glanced at the man who’d stolen her heart. And some fat cow at his side. Why had he brought her? She reached for her glass.

  “Are you all right? You look like you’re agitated.”

  She nearly choked on the sip of tea. “Agitated?” As good a word as any, she supposed. She placed the glass back on the table and forced a smile. “No. I’m just fine, thank you.”

  “Good, I’m glad.” He took the seat next to her. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  She swallowed, despising the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you could make it.”

  Was he? She glanced at the woman across the room again. “I wouldn’t have missed it.” Good, she was getting her composure back.

  “Of course not. You deserve this.”

  She stared at him. “I do?” Then blinked and gave a small laugh. Thankfully, it came out low and amused, not coarse and nervous like she felt.

  “You do. I think you deserve to have whatever makes you happy.” He smiled and his white teeth flashed bright in his tanned face.

  She tilted her head. “Are you flirting with me?” Because if he was, he was out of luck. Her heart was already taken.

  He chuckled. “Would you like to dance?”

  “You want to dance? With me?”

  “I asked, didn’t I?”

  “Then I’d love to.” Maybe he w
ould see and would take note. She rose and placed her hand in his. Then glanced back at the woman across the room. The other woman’s eyes were back on Wade.

  The fury renewed its desire to come out, to spill over onto the woman. But she held it back.

  “Is there a problem?” her dance partner asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You seem tense.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He nodded in the woman’s direction. “You don’t like her?”

  She stiffened. “I don’t know her.”

  “At least you didn’t pretend to misunderstand who I was talking about. I like that.”

  She was in control. She could handle this. She smiled up at him. “Forget her. I already know what you do. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself that I won’t read in the papers.” She listened with one ear while her gaze drifted back to the woman who couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off Wade. Yes, it might be time to do something about her. But that was fine. She’d killed for him before, she’d have no trouble doing it again.

  [2]

  EARLY FRIDAY MORNING

  2:46 AM

  Madelyn McKay swept her eyes over the radio station door, down the length of the building and back, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. She kept the car running, only slightly concerned about the gas she was wasting. It was sweltering outside even at this time of night, and she wasn’t going to bake. The air conditioner blew in her face and helped keep her awake.

  “August in the South. Gotta love it,” she muttered and turned the volume up a notch on the radio.

  She had to admit, even though she had no trouble sleeping at night, her client’s soothing voice could have lulled her into sweet dreams if she’d been suffering from insomnia.

  As far as she was concerned, Wade Savage had the perfect radio voice. Sweet, smooth . . . and silky. But more important, he sounded like he really cared. More than once Maddy had reached for the phone, thinking she’d call in and ask him a question. Professionalism held her back. But she really liked his voice.

  As did everyone who listened. Including one rabid fan. Wade’s stalker. A stalker who seemed to be escalating the hunt.

  That was why Maddy found herself sitting in her car watching the building and everyone entering and leaving. Which wasn’t anyone at this time of night. Wade was in the building alone. Maddy had her laptop mounted on a special dash stand, allowing her to monitor every area that had a camera on it. Her computer screen was divided into six squares with a view of the six areas. The back door, the front door, Wade sitting at the console speaking into the microphone, the door to the storage room in the back of the building, and the two hallways.

  She wished she could see down the back of the building. The station was part of a strip of businesses, but held the coveted end spot in the row. None of the other businesses were open. Night-lights glowed from behind the glass doors, the employees long gone.

  Patching in to the station’s security system had been ridiculously easy. After this case was over, she planned to help the station upgrade its software and firewall. Until then . . .

  Maddy checked her watch one more time. Wade had left the charity dinner and bolted to the station to do the show. He would be finished with it in about another fifteen minutes, then she would follow him home, report in, and go home to get a good night’s sleep.

  So she could do this all over again tomorrow. Boring? A bit. But she liked it that way. She thought Wade had looked tired, though. But who wouldn’t be, keeping his schedule?

  A flash of light shot through the driver’s window, then was gone. She sat up straighter and looked in the direction the light had come from. When nothing else happened, she didn’t relax. Instead her nerves began that little hum they did whenever she needed to be on alert. Aware. The light flashed again, farther away and not hitting the car, but still there.

  Ignore it? She continued her rhythmic tap on the steering wheel, debating. Then grabbed her phone and sent a text requesting some backup. She didn’t know if she’d need it or not, but it never hurt to be prepared. Maddy had a good view of the front door of the radio station from her strategic position. She’d backed up and parked next to the building just across the lot from the building Wade had entered almost three hours earlier.

  When the light swept across the front of the station doors, Maddy’s pulse picked up speed and her nerves hummed faster.

  Her fingers curled around the handle of the driver’s door.

  The glass to the passenger window exploded. Maddy ducked, flinched away from the shards hitting her, reached for her weapon. Felt a prick in her upper arm. Looked down to see a small dart sticking out. She grabbed for it and pulled it out. What? Her head began a slow spin and nausea climbed up the back of her throat. Weakness consumed her and she felt the darkness start to grab at her consciousness. She fought it, struggled to get her fingers wrapped around the door handle, her only thought to get out, get help. But her eyes wouldn’t stay open. Her phone. She needed her phone to call for help. But her hand was too heavy. She couldn’t lift it.

  She forced her eyes open and saw a masked figure slide into the passenger seat, the knife glinting in her attacker’s right hand.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  Felt the blade against her throat.

  Then nothing.

  [3]

  3:15 AM

  The air held a malevolence. An . . . evil. Wade Savage hesitated as the radio station door shut behind him. The parking lot stretched before him. Goosebumps pebbled his skin, a stark contrast to the sweat beading on his forehead.

  Someone was watching him.

  Again.

  He could feel the eyes on him. He stood still, frozen with indecision, as the early morning darkness pressed down on him. He tried to pull in a deep breath, but the August humidity made it hard to find the oxygen in the air. A soft light from the building spilled through the double glass doors behind him.

  Wade shivered in spite of the heat, felt a rivulet of sweat slide down his temple. He swiped it away even as a fine mist broke out on the back of his neck. A mere month ago, if anyone had said anything about feeling the presence of evil, he would have laughed. But not now, not tonight. For a brief moment, he regretted his refusal to listen to his father’s recommendation that he hire a bodyguard. It would be nice to know he had someone watching his back right now.

  His phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. Cameron Short, one of the directors on the board of the charity Wade had founded six years ago.

  I know your show is over and you’re probably on your way home. Call me. I’m up and have a couple of questions about the charity dinner on Thursday.

  Wade shook his head. It was the middle of the night for the normal person, but Cameron never seemed to sleep. Ever since his wife, Gina, had died of cancer two years ago, the man used his insomnia to further the cause of the charity he helped run.

  Wade would call him when he could. Right now, he kept his focus on the area around him. The night sounds didn’t comfort him. A lone car swept past the station and the taillights disappeared round the curve just ahead. He’d never really noticed before how deserted the place could be at almost 3:30 in the morning.

  Tonight he noticed.

  The hair on Wade’s neck spiked.

  The fatigue that had dogged him since leaving the charity dinner to head for the radio station lifted and his adrenaline surged.

  He hesitated again and let his gaze scan the parking lot, the areas beyond, the lighted places nearby, and—especially—the dark ones. He wondered what—who—lingered in the shadows? Unfortunately, he couldn’t see anything.

  His Nissan Armada sat just ahead. It was a straight shot across the parking lot and sat innocently under a light, facing the six-lane road that lay just beyond the sidewalk. A mostly empty six-lane road at this time of early morning.

  No one in the building behind him.

  Someone in the dark in front of him?

  Possib
ly.

  He took two more steps toward his car. The sense of danger intensified. With a bit of shock, Wade realized he was truly afraid.

  The building doors were locked, the alarm armed. It would take him several minutes to get back inside. His car was most likely his best bet for quick safety.

  If he could make it.

  While his car was only about twenty yards away, in his mind it was too far. He would be open, exposed to whoever watched. He shifted, pressed his back against the building. Then pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed 911.

  A sudden pulse of anger took him by surprise. He wouldn’t let whoever was out there do this to him. He started to cancel the call, then let it go through. He gripped his keys. Wade scanned the area one more time and started for the car, his long strides eating up the distance. He ignored the swift beat of his heart, the second surge of adrenaline, the lack of air in his lungs. The fear . . .

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  Within seconds he arrived at his vehicle and inserted the key into the lock. “Yes, I’m—”

  He heard the footfall at a distance behind him.

  And felt the sharp prick in his lower back. He spun even while his hand went to the area where he felt the pain. He pulled out what was lodged there and looked down to see a small dart in his hand. He’d been shot with a dart?

  The movement to his left caught his attention. He looked and saw the shadowy figure of the person dressed in black. Black clothes, black mask, black eyes—

  Wade’s legs trembled, refused to hold him. The phone and the dart slipped from his fingers. He heard them hit the ground. Weakness invaded him and his knees landed on the asphalt next to his phone. He tried to reach for the device, but his fingers wouldn’t work for him.

  He thought he saw the glint of a knife blade before a blanket of black covered him up.

  [4]

  Olivia Edwards punched the button on her phone one more time. And one more time Madelyn McKay’s voice mail picked up after the first ring. “Maddy? Where are you?” Olivia muttered. “Pick up the phone.” Maddy had texted her less than twenty minutes ago, saying she might need backup, but would be back in touch to let Olivia know for sure. Going on instinct, Olivia hadn’t hesitated, she’d just gone straight to her car and headed for the station. And now Maddy wouldn’t answer.