Targeted by Beverley Bateman #MFRWhooks

After and eleven year absence Janna Kincaid inherits a ranch and is forced to return to a town she only remembers with unhappiness, a man to whom she was briefly married and never wants to see again, and someone is trying to kill her.

Kye Hawkins has loved Janna since he first met her. They were married but a few weeks later she ran away, without an explanation. He still hasn’t figured out why. Now she’s coming back. Does she still love him? Can he rekindle the romance and also prevent her from being killed.

Janna doesn’t want Kye’s help in anyway, yet he always seems to be there when she’s in trouble. Can they work together to find a killer, save the Native burial ground and home of the spirits, and find romance again?

Deep breath, Janna.

Splintered glass spread in a two foot semi-circle on the plush, cream colored, wool carpet. Janna jerked to a stop so she didn’t get splinters in her bare feet.

“You might want to put on some shoes, ma’am.” Delaney glanced at her feet, then pulled a small camera from his pocket and started to snap pictures of the area.

Janna nodded and found a pair of old runners under her couch. She slid them on but didn’t bother with the laces.

“Then I’m guessing he headed toward my bedroom. I heard a thud. I think he hit the coffee table.” Janna jerked at the hem of her nightshirt and indicated the large oak table in front of her brown, leather couch.

Delaney nodded and he snapped a few pictures of the solid oak and glass coffee table with the replica of the statue of David in the center. “We can get forensics to check and see if maybe he left any DNA when he hit it. They should be here shortly. You keep saying he, do you know who it might have been?”

“I have no idea. I just use ‘he’ because I don’t think of a woman doing this.”

A smile slipped across Delaney’s craggy face. “Oh, they do it all right.”

Janna moved through her open bedroom door. “He turned the knob and opened this door. He took a couple of shots in the direction of the bed and then left. At least it sounded like a gun with a silencer, and there were a couple of small flashes.”

“A silencer or suppressor can make the shot a lot quieter, but you will still hear it.”

Delaney said.

When she flipped on the light, Janna looked at the queen-sized bed with the mauve, shamrock green, and white floral duvet thrown back to reveal the matching and expensive mauve cotton sheets and pillow cases. This lovely set brought her pleasure each time she saw it—but not tonight.

There were two holes. One was in the mauve covered pillow. The second went through the blanket and sheet she’d pushed together when she slid out of bed. They were bunched together and could have been the outline of a body. The shot could have been about her heart level.

The enormity of the situation punched her in the stomach. A wall of nausea crashed over her. She reached for the wall to steady herself. Her gaze focused on the bed, unable to look away.

“Ohmigawd,” her chest felt like a hundred pound weight was sitting on it. Janna struggled to take a breath.

“You might want to sit down.” Delaney touched her shoulder and motioned her back to the living room.

Nodding, Janna moved robot-like to the couch, still in her nightshirt.

Someone tried to kill me. They really tried to kill me. If I hadn’t woken up, there would have been one shot in my head and another in my heart. I would be dead, not trying to figure out who fired the shots.

When she flopped down, the butter soft leather felt cool against the back of her thighs. She pulled her legs up under her and tucked in the hem of her nightshirt. She rocked back and forth. She could be dead right now. Her life could be over at twenty-nine.

He hadn’t broken in to steal anything. He’d broken in to kill her. If she hadn’t heard him and hidden behind the door…

Why? Why would someone want to kill me?