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  “We,” said Holly. She sat up, grimacing with the effort. “We have to save her.”

  Up until that moment, Liam had felt alone—as if he were treading water in the middle of the ocean. Yet, to hear that Holly wanted—no, needed—to help his daughter was akin to being given a life raft. “I can’t ask you to put yourself at risk, not after everything you’ve suffered.”

  “This is as personal for me as it is for you,” Holly said. “Sophie may very well be your daughter, but I love her, too. Don’t put me on the sidelines.”

  Liam didn’t want to waste any more time while his daughter was in the hands of a killer. He needed to know what Holly knew, and arguing wasn’t going to help him gather any information. After getting to his feet, he held out a hand to Holly. “Come with me. I can patch you up while you talk.”

  She wound her fingers through his, and he pulled her to standing. The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her creamy skin gray. She listed to the side. Liam wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady.

  “Just breathe,” said Liam.

  * * *

  Be sure to pick up other thrilling stories in the Wyoming Nights miniseries!

  * * *

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  Dear Reader,

  Every once in a while, I write a hero who I absolutely fall in love with. Well, in Agent’s Mountain Rescue, Liam Alexander is one of those heroes! He’s tough, cool, brave, confident, handsome—all while learning how to be a good single parent.

  I mean, what’s not to love?

  I had to give him an equally competent heroine—someone smart, caring and above all fearless. Enter Holly Jacobs, a woman strong enough to care for, and smart enough to understand, a man like Liam.

  There was more for me to love about this book—and that came in the form of serial killer Darcy Owens. For me, as a writer, Darcy is a complicated character. This four-book series gave me the opportunity to explore the darker side of human nature and whether or not redemption is truly possible.

  All of this is set in a place I’ve grown to love—the fictitious town of Pleasant Pines, Wyoming. I invite you, dear reader, to come to a place where nothing is as it seems. But where love conquers all.

  Regards,

  Jennifer D. Bokal

  AGENT’S MOUNTAIN RESCUE

  Jennifer D. Bokal

  Jennifer D. Bokal penned her first book at age eight. An early lover of the written word, she decided to follow her passion and become a full-time writer. From then on, she didn’t look back. She earned a master of arts in creative writing from Wilkes University and became a member of Romance Writers of America and International Thriller Writers.

  She has authored several short stories, novellas and poems. Winner of the Sexy Scribbler in 2015, Jennifer is also the author of the ancient-world historical series the Champions of Rome and the Harlequin Romantic Suspense series Rocky Mountain Justice.

  Happily married to her own alpha male for more than twenty years, she enjoys writing stories that explore the wonders of love. Jen and her manly husband live in upstate New York with their three beautiful daughters, two very spoiled dogs and a kitten that aspires to one day become a Chihuahua.

  Books by Jennifer D. Bokal

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense

  Wyoming Nights

  Agent’s Mountain Rescue

  Under the Agent’s Protection

  Rocky Mountain Justice

  Her Rocky Mountain Hero

  Her Rocky Mountain Defender

  Rocky Mountain Valor

  Visit the Author Profile page at

  Harlequin.com for more titles.

  To John: For me, there’s only you.

  Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Colton 911: In Hot Pursuit by Geri Krotow

  Prologue

  April 2

  11:20 p.m.

  Pleasant Pines, Wyoming

  The dark space was silent. Darcy Owens sat on the floor of the bunker, her back pressed to the earthen wall. Despite a fire smoldering in the Franklin stove, the room was damp, and gooseflesh covered her arms. Using the toe of her shoe, she pulled the heavy cast-iron door open. A wave of heat washed over her and she began to sweat.

  On a cluttered shelf, a mahogany clock ticked off the seconds. The scrollwork of the timepiece’s enamel-and-brass faceplate was at odds with the bleak surroundings. A narrow bed. A rickety table. Mismatched plates and a single pot on the stove for cooking. A barrel of rainwater for cleaning and drinking. An ax, the blade dulled from use, leaned against the corner.

  Embers glowed white-hot and Darcy shifted to ease her discomfort. Her shoulder ached, a reminder that she’d been shot escaping custody. Time didn’t seem real underground. It was always damp and cold; as if she’d been trapped in the darkest night of winter. How long had she been here? Less than a month, if she had to guess. Because of Rocky Mountain Justice, Darcy’s identity had been discovered. Now, the entire world knew who she was. What she was.

  With a smile, she wondered what was being said about her in the media. No doubt, they were amazed that she—a lone woman—had wreaked so much havoc.

  Unless they all assumed that she was dead. That meant the search had ended. A tremor ran up her spine and she shivered.

  “You awake?” a gruff voice asked from the darkness.

  Darcy turned her gaze to the single bed and the hulking form lying upon the mattress. It was Billy...but then again, who else would it be? She said nothing, just stared into the gloom.

  The day of her escape, Billy had found Darcy in the middle of the woods. She was near death from the gunshot wound and had been running for her life. In that moment, he had saved her. More than that, he’d kept her whereabouts a secret from the police. He said he didn’t take to government involvement in the lives of free men. Moreover, he’d been living off the grid for years and had no intention of helping the authorities. At the time, Darcy viewed him as a blessing. Now, she knew that being found by Billy was a punishment for all her sins.

  Wasn’t that what she had been taught? That eventually everyone had to make amends for their mistakes? But Darcy never imagined that living underground with a dangerous brute would be her price.

  He hadn’t touched her, not yet at least. But she’d noticed the side-eyed glances. When he looked at her, Darcy’s skin crawled.

  “Get me some water,” Billy said. His large frame filled the entire bed.

  She ignored the order, turning her eyes back to the fire.

  “I told you to get me some water,” he said, his tone threatening.

  She slowly stood. Her vision dimmed. Dipping a cup into the barrel of rainwater, Darcy filled it to the rim.

  She walked over to the bed. “Here,” she said, handing the cup to Billy.

  He swallowed down the water in one gulp, his eyes never leaving hers. “You better listen to m
e when I tell you to do something,” he said, before wiping a threadbare sleeve across his mouth. “You’ve got nowhere to go and nobody to help you—’cept me, that is.”

  He slipped a hand up her thigh and bile rose in the back of Darcy’s throat. Billy continued, “And since I’ve been so nice to help you, I reckon you can help me with something now, too.”

  “Do it.” The words were just a whisper, so quiet that Darcy wasn’t even sure what she had heard.

  “Do what?” she asked. Her voice broke, sounding like the creaky hinge of an unused door.

  “You’re feeling better, ain’t you? I’m the one who saved you, Darcy. Without me, you’d be dead,” Billy said.

  “Do it,” the voice said again. Then it came to her. The Darkness had returned. She went cold and took a step back. Billy reached for her arm and pulled her to him. Pitching forward, Darcy landed on his large chest.

  Her heart raced as the stench of his fetid breath filled her nostrils. Darcy became smaller and smaller, hiding in the corner of her mind. The Darkness urged her to move hard, move fast. Somehow, she obeyed.

  There was a length of rope hanging over the headboard of the bed. Wrapping the ends of the rope in her fists, Darcy looped the rope around Billy’s throat and pulled tight. His eyes went wide. He thrashed, rising to his feet. He pulled Darcy with him as he rose. Bracing her feet on the floor, she pulled the rope taut. Swinging his arms out wildly, Billy’s fist caught Darcy in the temple. She stumbled back.

  Billy tugged on the restraint, pulling the rope from her hands. She sprawled on the ground, her palms scraped and raw.

  “I wish you wouldn’t have done that. Not after all the goodness I showed you,” Billy said. He stood, looming over Darcy.

  She scooted back, scampering to the farthest point in the room—near the stove.

  Billy took one step, and then another. Then he was on her. He pressed her down. His rough beard scratched the tender flesh of her face, her neck, her chest. He bit her hard enough that Darcy knew she’d have a bruise.

  Do it.

  Darcy didn’t think, just acted. Reaching into the fire, she scooped up a handful of hot ash. Ignoring the pain in her palm, she pressed her hand onto his face. The acrid stench of burnt hair filled the underground bunker. Billy screamed and rolled on the ground. Darcy looked around wildly for anything that could work as a weapon...and her gaze fell on the ax in the corner.

  “Now.”

  This time, she didn’t hesitate. After bringing up the handle, she let the blade fall.

  The clock on the shelf continued to quietly tick, tick, tick.

  Then it was only Darcy and the Darkness.

  Chapter 1

  April 3

  7:20 a.m.

  Liam Alexander pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The large engine roared and his car shot forward. Despite the frost-covered ground, he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. His pulse raced as he glanced at the dashboard clock. His new boss expected him for an initial briefing in exactly ten minutes.

  There was no way in hell that he was going to make it on time.

  Deadlines. Office hours. Meetings.

  Liam hated them all. They made him feel like he was locked in a cage. It was one of the reasons he had spent his entire life working as a tracker and guide. In the woods, there was no time clock to punch. He had enjoyed a life that took him to all parts of the globe. Then his priorities had changed.

  Priorities. With the single thought, his gaze was drawn to the rearview mirror and the child buckled into the car seat. “How’s it going, baby girl?” he asked his daughter, Sophie. “Are you ready for your first day of school?”

  She held a sippy cup by a hooked handle and smiled. Apple juice slowly leaked onto her jacket. What would the new teachers think of Liam if Sophie arrived for her first day of school damp and sticky? The last thing he wanted people to think was that he was the bungling single dad—even if that was Liam’s own worst fear. Wincing, he looked back at the road.

  With Erin, Sophie’s mother, on a twelve-month deployment in the Persian Gulf, Liam’s daughter had to switch homes and parents. Liam’s last gig—working as part of a search and rescue team for the Department of the Interior—took him to all parts of Western California. Death Valley. The rocky coastline. The endless miles of desert across the southern border. The Sierra Nevada mountain range. His job, to find hikers and climbers who’d gone missing, didn’t come with regular hours and made it impossible to spend more than a few hours a week with his daughter.

  Now, as a full-time dad, he needed a job that kept him in one place, along with the possibility of being home most night’s for dinner. What he got was a job offer from Rocky Mountain Justice. While hardly perfect, it was good enough for him—for now.

  All of the changes had been hard on Sophie. New parent. New town. And now a new school. He glanced in the rearview mirror and watched Sophie stare out the window.

  Not that he blamed her. Pleasant Pines, Wyoming—so near to where his family had lived for generations—was the last place he expected to end up.

  His throat tightened and he coughed. Looking back at the road, he spoke, continuing on the topic of the school. “The name of your school is Saplings.”

  “S-sapling?” she said, trying out the new word.

  “It’s a baby tree,” he said. “Pretty clever if you think about it. Our new town is called Pleasant Pines. A pine is a tree. The school is Saplings. If I’m a daddy pine tree, then you are a...”

  “Sapling,” Sophie said.

  “A very smart sapling, too,” Liam said. The GPS alerted him of a new set of directions, and he eased off the gas as he rounded a corner.

  “I don’t want a new school,” Sophie said, her small voice holding a steely edge. “I want my old school. And house. And Mommy.”

  Ouch.

  “You’ll have the best time,” Liam said, trying to cajole his daughter. “There will be a new teacher and new friends.”

  “Friends?” she asked. “Promise?”

  “I promise.” A white-and-black-checked flag appeared on the GPS. Their destination. “In fact, here we are.”

  After pulling into an empty space, Liam turned off the ignition. He reached for Sophie’s small backpack that sat in the passenger seat and triple-checked its contents. Cup. Snack. Change of clothes. Blanket. Four stuffed animals—because she said they were all her favorite. Sophie was three years old—did she still use a pacifier? With a smile, he remembered those first months after her birth, when the pacifier was as much a lifesaver for Liam and Erin as it had been for the baby.

  Then it happened. A shadow of memory, as real as a glimpse of a reflection in his rearview mirror. For a single second, Liam seemed to see Charlie, standing right in front of the car.

  Liam shook his head to clear it and looked again. His cousin wasn’t there. No wonder the memories were stronger here. After all, he was back in Wyoming.

  “Daddy,” Sophie said, protesting from her car seat.

  “I’m here, baby girl.” He untangled Sophie from her five-point harness, then lifted the child from the car. She reached for the single dog tag he always wore and ran the tag up and down the leather cord.

  The dog tag used to belong to his cousin, Charlie. Liam always wore it—a reminder never to lose his focus, or his drive—just like his cousin. Charlie’s doctrine had stayed with Liam and had made him one hell of a tracker. Today, what he needed was something a little more practical—like advice on how to be a good dad.

  After closing the car door, he carried her toward the building. The early morning air was crisp, yet there was an undercurrent of warmth in the breeze, the promise that spring really had arrived. As he walked, his daughter settled into his arms, and Liam found it impossible not to recall the moments after her birth, when a nurse had held out the squalling, pink-faced newborn.

  “Yo
u want to hold her, Dad?” she asked, sliding Sophie into Liam’s arms.

  In that moment, he’d felt two distinct emotions. A fierce and bone-deep need to protect his child. And the sickening notion that he was wholly unprepared to be a father.

  Erin, slowly recovering from labor and delivery, had held out her arms. “Can I see her?”

  Liam had reluctantly let his daughter go. Now he had to do the same thing all over again.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She nodded slowly. “I guess.”

  “I know new things can be scary sometimes, but you are a brave girl.”

  Placing her small hands on either side of Liam’s face, Sophie stared directly into her father’s eyes. “I love you, Daddy.”

  Liam’s chest ached and his throat tightened. He understood Sophie’s fear of stepping into the unknown more than he could ever express to her. “I love you, honey. We can wait for a minute. Tell me when you want to go inside.”

  With a single nod, Sophie said, “Ready now, Daddy.”

  Shifting the child to his hip, Liam approached the school. Set near Pleasant Pines’s city limits, the preschool looked like a perfect child’s playhouse. The building was trimmed in a vibrant purple. A bright yellow sun had been painted on the glass front doors, along with the words Welcome to Saplings.

  Hopefully, everything would go well, Sophie would like the new class and teacher, and she’d let Liam ease out slowly. And, just maybe, he could still make it to the RMJ offices without being late. Or too late, at least.

  Pushing open the door, Liam stepped into the school. He was greeted by an array of smells. Sweet juice. Lemon disinfectant. And the spicy scent of baking cinnamon.

  Directly in front of him, a greeter sat behind a desk.

  “Can I help you?” the dark-haired woman asked. She wore khaki pants and a long-sleeved royal blue T-shirt. A Saplings logo had been embroidered on the front of the shirt, as well as her name. Tonya.

  Using his free hand, Liam unzipped the backpack and fished through the contents. “I registered my daughter for school online. Sophie Alexander.” Finding the printout of the confirmation, Liam handed over the paper.