A Treacherous Mix Read online

  What people are saying about …

  The Ozark Mountain Trilogy

  “Not by Sight is nonstop tension and danger, young love, and conflicts of faith that make it a not-to-be-missed experience. Another winner for Kathy Herman!”

  Lorena McCourtney, author of the Ivy Malone Mysteries and the Cate Kinkaid Files

  “Just when you think Only by Death is over, it’s not … and the tension mounts. Young Jesse is brave, spunky, and lives out his faith. I want to be like Jesse when I grow up!”

  Roxanne Henke, author of the Coming Home to Brewster series

  “Prepare yourself for a roller-coaster ride. Kathy Herman’s latest suspense doesn’t deliver just one mystery but many twists and turns that will keep the pages flying! And all in another picturesque location. Don’t miss this wild ride!”

  Lyn Cote, USA Today bestselling author

  “As a longtime Kathy Herman fan, I know I can expect a top-notch mystery that will grab my attention from the very first page.”

  Carol Cox, author of the Arizona Territory Brides series

  “Readers of all ages will readily identify with the protagonist in Only by Death. This highly engaging read is not your typical murder mystery.”

  Eric Wiggin, MsEd, speaker, author of The Gift of Grandparenting and The Hills of God, rewritten as The Recluse

  “Only by Death, book 2 of Kathy Herman’s Ozark Mountain Trilogy, is filled with action, suspense, and surprises, as well as thought-provoking questions about what it really means to live the Christian life.”

  Julianna Deering, author of the Drew Farthering Mysteries

  “Only by Death is one of Kathy Herman’s best so far, especially in the faith thread. It will challenge you at a deep level, making you question where you would stand if the same things happened to you. I highly recommend it—truly a must read.”

  Miralee Ferrell, award-winning author of Runaway Romance, also a TV movie

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  A Note from the Author

  Discussion Guide

  A TREACHEROUS MIX

  Published by David C Cook

  4050 Lee Vance Drive

  Colorado Springs, CO 80918 U.S.A.

  Integrity Music Limited, a Division of David C Cook

  Eastbourne, East Sussex BN23 6NT, England

  The graphic circle C logo is a registered trademark of David C Cook.

  All rights reserved. Except for brief excerpts for review purposes,

  no part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form

  without written permission from the publisher.

  The website addresses recommended throughout this book are offered as a resource to you. These websites are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement on the part of David C Cook, nor do we vouch for their content.

  This story is a work of fiction. Characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION® and NIV® are registered trademarks of Biblica, Inc. Use of either trademark for the offering of goods or services requires the prior written consent of Biblica, Inc. Quote in chapter 35: “The Invisible Effects of Sex before Marriage,” Moral Revolution, accessed October 25, 2017, https://moralrevolution.com/the-invisible-effects-of-sex-before-marriage/. See ref. material: Caroline Leaf, Switch On Your Brain: The Key to Peak Happiness, Thinking, and Health (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2013); and Joe S. McIlhaney and Freda McKissic Bush, Hooked: New Science on How Casual Sex Is Affecting Our Children (Chicago: Northfield, 2008).

  LCCN 2017964688

  ISBN 978-0-7814-0805-9

  eISBN 978-0-8307-7550-7

  © 2018 Kathy Herman

  Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc, 7680 Goddard St., Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920.

  The Team: Alice Crider, Jamie Chavez, Amy Konyndyk, Nick Lee, Jack Campbell, Susan Murdock

  Cover Design: Kirk Douponce, Dog-Eared Design

  Cover Photo: iStockphoto.com

  First Edition 2018

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

  053118

  To Him who is both the Giver and the Gift

  Acknowledgments

  The Ozark Mountains of northwest Arkansas provide the backdrop for this series and many of the images I describe in this story. However, Sure Foot Mountain, Angel View Lodge, Raleigh County, and the town of Foggy Ridge exist only in my imagination.

  During the writing of this book, I drew from several resource people, each of whom shared generously from his or her storehouse of knowledge and experience. I did my best to integrate the facts as I understood them. If accuracy was compromised in any way, it was unintentional and strictly of my own doing.

  I owe a special word of thanks to Retired Commander Carl H. Deeley of the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department for taking time (even while on vacation!) to answer my questions. In this book, perhaps more than in any other, I realized the need to understand more about the FBI and CIA and their various functions. While these two agencies do not comment at all regarding their operation, Carl’s firsthand experience with them over the years was extremely valuable in helping me to craft a believable scenario. Carl, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for answering my emails when my deadline required quick replies in order for me to continue. You are a blessing and a friend.

  I’m deeply grateful to moralrevolution.com for the wealth of information you make available online. Your professionally presented facts support what I knew in my heart but found difficult to articulate. I hope my readers will visit your website and be enlightened by the science that supports the wisdom of keeping sex within the confines of a marital relationship. God bless you for boldly speaking the truth.

  A special thank-you to Nancy Godsey, Betty Mix, Martha Shelton, Sharon Mayville, Buzz Adams, and the staff at the Waterton Inn in Tyler, Texas, for respecting my night-writing, day-sleeping schedule. You will never know how much I appreciated you guarding my time so I could finish this manuscript.

  I’m immensely grateful to my faithful prayer warriors: my sister Pat Phillips, dear friends Mark and Donna Skorheim, Susan Mouser, and Susie Killough; and my online prayer team: Pearl Anderson, Judi
th Depontes, Jackie Jeffries, Joanne Lambert, Diane Morin, Kim Prothro, Kelly Smith, Carolyn Walker, Deanna Tyler, and Sondra Watson; my friends at LifeWay Christian Store in Tyler, Texas, and LifeWay Christian Resources in Nashville, Tennessee; I cannot possibly express to you how much I value your prayers.

  To my agent, Lisa Jackson, at Alive Communications for being an advocate for this series. I never have to wonder if you’re looking out for my best interests.

  To my editor, Jamie Chavez, for being such a delight to work with. I love the rhythm we’ve developed and hope we get to work together again in the future. Your wit, insight, gentle nudging, flexibility, and encouragement were so appreciated. It’s been a privilege working with you!

  To Cris Doornbos, Dan Rich, Alice Crider, and the amazing staff at David C Cook publishers for believing in me and investing in the words I write; thanks for all you’ve done to support my writing ministry, and for giving me the opportunity to finish this series. Over half of my writing career has been spent working hand in hand with your professional staff, who share my heart for wanting to bring people closer to Christ. I deeply cherish the years I had as a part of the Cook “family,” and pray that God will continue to bless your faithfulness.

  To my sweet Paul, whose voice of wisdom still echoes in my mind, I cherish all the times you were a sounding board for my ideas, my storylines, my characters, and my hopes and dreams for what the Lord could do with the words I write. I miss you with every breath, but never more than when I birth a new book. Your DNA is on every page.

  And to my Father in heaven, thank You for the privilege of writing stories that touch hearts and draw them closer to You. I pray that this story will give us all a glimpse of the heavenly Bridegroom and a deeper understanding and reverence for marriage and all You intended it to be.

  “This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth.” 1 John 1:5–6

  Prologue

  Brody Armison leaned against a rock formation and held the binoculars to his eyes, pretending to watch the sailboats on Beaver Lake, but never losing sight of the young woman who sat on a patchwork quilt, her sleek dark hair tossed about by the playful breeze.

  She looked both innocent and seductive, barefoot and dressed in a pink sundress, her smooth ivory skin caressed by the sun. Her dark eyes were almond shaped, her cheeks the color of the roses that grew around his grandmother’s front porch. Posed against a distant backdrop of white sails and rippled water the color of blue topaz, she might have made the perfect subject for an Impressionist’s canvas.

  What could a classy lady like her possibly see in the rugged, unlikely companion who sat beside her, trying to look cool in his Walmart sunglasses, his hairy arm casually draped over her shoulder like a cheap handbag? The man was definitely not in her league—denim versus fine linen—and yet the joy she wore needed no interpretation. She was smitten, wholly absorbed in the moment. And judging from Denim Boy’s tender touches, it was mutual. Lucky dog!

  Brody turned his gaze away from the couple and onto the reason for his being there—the sailboat races on Beaver Lake. He’d never watched them from up this high on Sure Foot Mountain, but every year the crowds that gathered close to the water had made him more and more claustrophobic. He had driven up the mountain and some distance beyond Angel View Lodge and spotted this rock formation at the top of a grassy slope. He got out and really liked the view of the lake from there, never thinking that he would be invading anyone’s space.

  He spied again at the couple. She looked like an angel, smiling peacefully, her face kissed by the sun. She just might be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Hopefully Denim Boy realized what he had.

  Brody heard a funny sound and looked up just as a drone, similar to one his cousin Dennis owned, flew over his head. He watched it through his binoculars … a really cool-looking hexacopter drone, its six propellers making it look like a flying spider. It descended the hillside in the direction of the couple and then hovered about ten feet above them.

  Brody chuckled. “Smile. You’re on Candid Camera.” He wondered if the couple was even aware that they’d been caught on film by some local Bubba wanting to play with the latest technology.

  In the next instant, something resembling a reddish vapor fell on them, and then the drone disappeared behind the trees. Both the man and the woman began coughing, their hands to their throats. They seemed to be struggling to breathe, and then they just fell back, motionless on the quilt.

  Horrified, Brody started to climb down from the rocks, thinking once his feet hit the grassy slope, he wouldn’t have to run more than fifty yards or so before he reached them. He heard deep voices and put the binoculars to his eyes. Two men wearing gas masks and black coveralls ran out of the trees. One quickly picked up the woman and put her over his shoulder, while the other rolled her lover over on his side and picked up the quilt the couple had been sitting on only a few minutes ago. Then they ran back toward the trees.

  Brody kept his gaze on them, his binoculars held tightly to his eyes. The men ran toward a huge house visible through the trees. He hadn’t noticed it before. A plain white truck the size of a large U-Haul was parked out front. A black Suburban sat in the driveway, but he couldn’t see the license plate. The men quickly slid the woman into the back of the Suburban and closed the door. Other men dressed in black coveralls and black caps—six in all—came out of the house and got into the white truck, then both vehicles drove away.

  Brody’s knees almost buckled, and he fell back against a rock. What had just happened? Who were those people, and where were they taking the woman? Was she alive? Was her lover? It seemed like something out of a movie. Obviously, this was planned. Carefully calculated. Whatever “this” was, it certainly wasn’t harmless.

  He turned and looked down the grassy slope at the body that lay motionless. He resisted the urge to go check to see if the man was breathing. What if someone else was coming to pick up the man’s body? And what if the drone had gotten a picture of him? Brody shuddered to think what would happen to him if the men who did this caught him there. Or found out he’d gone to the authorities. He couldn’t tell anyone about this, not even Sheriff Granger.

  If he could just muster enough leg strength to climb down from these rocks and make his way back to his truck, he would drive straight home and bolt-lock his doors. But after what he’d just seen, he doubted he would feel safe anywhere. If they wanted to find him, they would.

  Chapter 1

  Hawk Cummings felt an excruciating pounding in his head, like a sledgehammer was breaking his skull. He seemed to be spinning round and round at a dizzying speed and swatted the air for something to grab on to before finally clutching the grassy ground with his left hand, perspiration running off his face. What was happening? Where was he?

  Kennedy’s! He wasn’t sure whether he’d blurted it out or merely thought it. He remembered telling his family he was going to the sailboat races by himself, since Laura Lynn had to work. They had no idea he was having an affair with Kennedy Taylor, and he intended to keep it that way.

  He remembered coming to Kennedy’s home just after sunup. Climbing the stairs to her room. Crawling under the softest, most luxurious comforter he’d ever felt, and sharing an entire morning of lustful bliss. Afterward, Kennedy fixed them bacon and waffles and they ate out on the deck. Then they decided to watch the sailboat races. They grabbed a quilt to sit on, and walked over to the grassy hillside, high above Beaver Lake, where they had an unobstructed view. From that point on, nothing was clear in his mind. He remembered dreaming that he and Kennedy were caught in a web and a giant black spider spewed venom on them. He remembered struggling to breathe and thinking he was going to die. He remembered hearing voices. And feeling someone push him on his side, then pulling the quilt out
from under him. Was all that a dream?

  Hawk rolled over on his back, then groped the grassy ground on either side of where he lay and didn’t feel Kennedy or the quilt they had spread on the ground beneath them. This was too weird.

  He opened his eyes and peeled off his sunglasses. A kaleidoscope of blazing pink and purple pieces slowly came into focus. Sunset? He pushed the button on his watch and squinted: 8:32 p.m., Saturday, June 3. The last time he remembered checking the time was just before three. Had he been lying here all that time?

  He sat up, the pounding in his head subsiding slightly, and stuffed his sunglasses into the pocket of his cargo pants. He stumbled onto his feet and stood a moment until the dizziness faded a bit, then walked slowly toward Kennedy’s house. The lights were on! He hurried his pace until he reached the kitchen door. He knocked, then turned the handle and cracked the door.

  “Kennedy? Are you in here …? Kennedy …?”

  Hawk pushed open the door and sucked in a breath. Every piece of furniture, every accessory, and every wall hanging was missing from the kitchen and adjacent dining room. He walked down the hall to the living room—stripped bare. He hurried upstairs to Kennedy’s bedroom—completely empty. He opened her walk-in closets—even the hangers were gone.

  Hawk, his heart racing with questions, then went from room to room on both levels of Kennedy’s house. The place was huge. And completely empty. If she intended to dump him, why would she have invited him over? One thing he knew for sure: it took organized planning to strip a house in a matter of hours. She couldn’t have done it, so who did?

  Hawk felt another wave of dizziness and fell back against the door, noticing a pale red spatter on the front of his shirt. Was it possible he hadn’t been dreaming? He couldn’t explain the giant spider he saw, but the red substance was proof that someone or something must have sprayed some kind of chemical on them. What else would have made him feel so disoriented?