An Unexpected Clue

An Unexpected Clue
Elle James

An Unexpected Clue

Elle James

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Table of Contents

Cover (#u4a62437b-b2db-52d0-8ccc-c5f85227ae78)

Title Page (#u43d25885-c893-54fd-b480-0ea74b3369d3)

About the Author (#ulink_8c23113f-2897-5df8-af31-a4b5dbae205f)

Dedication (#u252035b7-ae7d-5f8d-92ce-e2127f659b16)

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

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#ulink_9daec1df-bd51-5b1e-acb1-ab8a24d7270d)

The 2004 Golden Heart winner for Best Paranormal Romance, ELLE JAMES started writing when her sister issued a Y2K challenge to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job, raised three wonderful children and she and her husband even tried their hands at ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas) in the Texas Hill Country. Ask her and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bird!

After leaving her successful career in information technology management, Elle is now pursuing her writing full-time. She loves building exciting stories about heroes, heroines, romance and passion. Elle loves to hear from fans.

You can contact her at ellejames@earthlink.net or visit her website at www.ellejames.com.

This book is dedicated to all the authors who

contributed to the success of this continuity. As always,

it’s a pleasure to work with you all. A special thanks

to Allison Lyons for her gentle guidance during

the editing process.

Chapter One (#ud6166373-dabb-5c69-a9ad-11cefdf4ac20)

He lay against the cool concrete floor, facedown, careful to take slow shallow breaths. The more dead he looked, the more likely the guard would venture in to check on him.

Hidden beneath his body, his fingers curled around the smooth metal of the broken bedpost he’d wrested from the corner of the twin-size utility cot.

Ben Parrish knew what they had planned for him, and he had a good idea what they’d do to Ava if he didn’t get to her first. For weeks they’d drugged him through the food he ate. For the past two days he’d eaten very little, flushing what he didn’t eat down the toilet in the corner of his cell.

He’d planned his escape carefully. Now with his head clearer than it had been in the weeks of his captivity, he’d learned of Nicky Wayne’s plan to dispose of him and go after Ava.

Ben’s chest tightened. She’d be in her eighth month of pregnancy, in no condition to run from Nick’s goons. Bad guys who wouldn’t hesitate to kill a pregnant woman over something as seemingly inconsequential as a necklace.

The necklace was the key. His friend Julie Grainger had given him a medal postmortem, sent in the mail before she died. He’d hung it on a chain and given it to his wife, Ava. Embossed on the medal was the image of St. Joan of Arc, the patron saint of imprisonment. For the past weeks, Ben had laughed at the irony. Perhaps Julie’s gift had jinxed him, landing him in this hellhole of Nicky’s making. That very medal endangered Ava and their unborn child. He wished he’d never seen the damned thing. All it had brought him was grief.

Nicky Wayne had beaten, tortured and drugged him in his effort to locate the millions Vincent Del Gardo had squirreled away in a secret bank account.

In his assignment as an undercover FBI agent, Ben had worked closely with Del Gardo, getting to know him, infiltrating the Del Gardo crime family. Still, he hadn’t even known about the money. No amount of beatings by Wayne or his thugs could coerce the location out of him. All this time the account numbers had been inscribed on the backs of three medallions Julie had sent to her friends from her FBI academy days, Ben, Tom Ryan and Dylan Acevedo.

Now that Nicky knew they were the keys to the millions Del Gardo had stashed, he wanted those medals and to get them, he’d do anything, including kill Ava.

Sounds outside his cell alerted him to the approach of his executioners.

Under no circumstances could he fail. If he did, Ava and their unborn child might be the Wayne organization’s next victims.

A key scraped in the lock and the door swung open.

“What the—” The man all the other guards called Hammer stepped through the door first, tapping a hand-carved club in his palm.