Ghost of a Promise

Ghost of a Promise

The Riley’s, Book 1

By Melissa Johnson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 Melissa Johnson

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Text Copyright © 2015 Melissa Johnson

All Rights Reserved

Table of Contents

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

Sneak Peek: Worth the Risk, The Riley’s Book 2, Coming February, 2016

Other Books by Melissa Johnson – The Guardian Angel Series, with an excerpt from If I Stay

About the Author

Chapter 1

Did she leave of her own free will? That's the question everyone is asking, Tony.

Yes, Barbara, that is exactly what the world is asking. For five days, the Senator has emphatically said no. His daughter could not possibly have left the Institute on her own volition.

Too busy painting her toenails to look up, Carrie Riley sat on the bed in a white plush robe and listened to the news with half an ear. This is what I've been missing? After weeks of media isolation in a remote African village, the international news of the day appeared to be the disappearance of some spoiled Senator's daughter who'd skipped out on her rehab or some such thing. Ooohhh, shocking. Give me a break, she mumbled, rolling her eyes. She'd turned on the news hoping to hear something from her brother, Ben. An investigative journalist, he wouldn't be caught dead reporting this kind of fluff. No, he'd be somewhere that mattered, in the thick of things. Last she knew, he was still reporting from Afghanistan. He also wouldn't look like Tony...all slick and polished. He'd look like he needed a shave, a haircut and a full day's sleep.

She tucked a damp strand of an errant russet curl behind her ear before unfolding her leg to start on the other foot. Of course, she worried, but Ben could take care of himself. They were alike that way. Besides, her sixth sense had been quiet. She glanced up as Tony the talking head continued, reporting from location. Behind him, past a tall iron fence, loomed an imposing, pilloried structure she assumed was the Institute. New security footage at the Elizabeth Burke Institute has identified a possible person of interest. Personally, Barbara, I couldn't be more stunned, and I know you feel the same.

Yes, Tony. Although we must stress that no charges have officially been filed, we are reeling at the possible connection our colleague Ben Riley has with Elizabeth Burke's disappearance.

Holy crap! At the unlikely linking of names, Carrie's hand jerked and smeared bright red polish onto the hotel's bedspread. The news story now had her full attention and shocking didn't begin to describe it. Looking up, she got her wish to see Ben's face.

"Of course we can't forget this memorable footage taken weeks ago at the Press Corps Dinner.

Her jaw dropped. On a red carpet, no less, dark hair falling over the collar of his tux, Ben carried a slender, fragile looking woman in his arms. Long blonde hair streamed over his arm and dainty, slipper less feet peeked out beneath the hem of her apricot colored gown. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as if hanging on for dear life and they had eyes only for each other, oblivious to the cameras flashing around them. And the sirens. What the hell? Why were there sirens? Had there been a fire?

They didn't say. The story looped back to Tony and they started over, saying the same thing. The world thought her brother had kidnapped the infamous Elizabeth Burke.

Oh, Ben. What have you done? Obviously her sixth sense had gone haywire.

***

Ben lowered his camera. He squinted into the sun and watched his new wife gingerly walk over the uneven cobblestones in ridiculously impractical wedge heeled sandals. What the hell had he done? He'd stolen the princess from her tower, that's what. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He smiled ruefully, wondering how that explanation would go over. But it was true. He'd made good on an impulsive promise because it felt right, and every move since he’d run away with the Senator’s daughter had been a blur of looking forward. They hadn’t talked about it, not on the plane trips from Washington and not once during the three day waiting period required by New Zealand before the wedding. But they should talk about it. He knew it and he thought Beth knew it. But not yet. There would be time enough to face the consequences later. For now they lived for the moment, sight-seeing like ordinary tourists. But still, he had to wonder. Now that he had his princess, what was he supposed to do with her?

Careful! he shouted when she wobbled, but the wind took his words. A good thing probably, he thought with a scowl. He wouldn't be another person telling her what to do. She didn't need it, not like they thought. All she needed was the freedom to make her own choices. But damn, he hoped she wouldn’t turn her ankle. When she made it without incident to the podium positioned in the middle of the isolated lookout point, he released the breath he hadn't known he'd sucked in and held. She stood there a moment, undecided as a gust of wind swirled the leaves off the sign, stirring up better left unknown gifts of nature. She glanced his way, dismay and disgust plain on her fine-boned face. His nature girl, he thought with a grin.

What’s it say? He had to shout over the roar of the waterfall.

She shook her head, holding back the long, flyaway blonde strands that kept blowing across her face. He realized that impracticality had been his fault -- in the Jeep he'd pulled loose the scarf holding back her hair, unable to get past his ambivalence to the way they'd kept her so prim and proper.

I can’t read it, she yelled.

Why not? He walked over to take a look. Is it in Maori?

She shrugged. Maybe. I can’t tell. She waved a hand at the dirty sign, as if her gesture might clear it by magic. There’s too much...there’s all this…

Bird poop, he finished for her, his lips twitching at her long shudder. Exotic birds, probably the bearers of the gifts, squawked in unison around them. They obviously did not share his compunction not to laugh.

Need some help? he asked.

No, I got this. I just need something to brush it off. She dug in their backpack and pulled out a tee-shirt. His tee-shirt, but what the heck. She flicked the shirt at the sign with the flair of a lion tamer, knocking loose the worst of it without getting too close.

He folded his arms over his chest, enjoying the show. Doing all right?

Perfect! No problem, she said, sending a bright smile his way. She finished and looked extremely proud of herself. There.

She held the cobweb laden shirt by her fingertips at arm’s length, obviously not quite sure what to do with it now that it had served its purpose. With a long-suffering sigh he took the shirt and finished brushing off the sign. When it was clear, he frowned down at the words carved into the stone. It looked like gibberish to him. Too bad it isn’t in English. By its age, I guess this was written before the Maori became concerned about tourists.

She looked down and frowned also. What do you mean? It's plain as day. She started to read out loud. Ancient folklore describes the whirlpool at the base of the waterfall as trapped tears. She glanced up and smiled, as if nothing were unusual. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?"

She could read it. Ben hadn’t had that back-of-the-neck tingle since his sister Carrie had first surprised him with her visions. He supposed having a psychic in the family should have prepared him to take something like this in stride, but it was a moment before he recovered enough to speak. What else does it say?

She ran her finger slightly above the engraved words as she read. Like a giant's abandoned hammock, the ancient rope bridge spanning The River of Tears now sways forlornly with the dictates of the wind. If you listen carefully, you can hear the echoing groans of the frayed, timeworn rope supports. Listen, and imagine times long past when the bridge whispered a seductive promise of peace to lost souls.

Beth stopped reading and rubbed her arms.

Cue spooky music, he muttered beneath his breath. Beth raised her eyes to look at the bridge swaying over the water. She stepped forward toward the stone wall, as if its sway were a hypnotic call to come closer. Beyond the wall a deep chasm fell away to the rushing water of the river. She took a step forward, and then another.

Hey, Blondie. Concerned, he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. You think you can walk through stone?

She seemed shocked to realize she stood toe-to-toe with the stone wall. With a little yelp, she sprang back, her back connecting hard with his chest.

Oomph! Ben laughed when she turned and practically climbed his body, wrapping her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet, setting her bottom on the wall.

She clung to him, not turning around. What are you doing? I'll fall!

I got you.

She relaxed against him. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head, looking speculatively at the bridge that had had her so transfixed. What was that about?

I don’t know. She sounded confused.

He sighed and let it go, rubbing his hands along her back. I think you should stay right here and keep out of trouble. What do you think about that?

I think this is a good place to be. She lifted her head.

Only good? He lowered his head, slanting his mouth over hers, intending only the briefest of kisses, but found himself swiftly absorbed in her taste and softness. He heard her little whimper and broke free. I think we should get out of here. Or they could make love on the grassy riverbank.

But what about my pictures? she breathed.

He growled against her silky hair. Her pictures. His ego would take a beating if he didn't know the meaning behind her words. He leaned back. Beth, we have enough pictures.

No, she said, her voice husky. We don’t.

Her violet eyes turned dark with a myriad of emotions he'd only begun to understand. It made his heart hurt to see the truth -- the truth she believed anyway, in her eyes. Ben didn’t know what to say. He knew she thought deep in her bones that every moment they had together was borrowed time. Stolen time that needed to be recorded. He didn’t know how to convince her otherwise. Only time would do that. Not pictures.

He splayed his hands across her back. Lean back, honey.

What? Her arms tightened around his neck. She laughed nervously. In case you’ve forgotten, the situation is precarious.

He knew she didn’t just mean the raging river behind her back.

Do you trust me?

Slowly her arms loosened and she let her weight rest against his hands. Yes.

One word, so simple.

Ben felt victorious. And more than that, he was humbled. He might have stolen her, but the trust of this shy, brave girl was hers to give. He knew he didn’t deserve it. But his instincts told him he had to show her how to live in the moment or they'd never have a chance. They'd be done before they began. Begin the way you're going to go forward, his father use to say. It was the one good piece of advice the old man had ever given him. "Here is the way we are going to do this, Mrs. Riley. I will have these moments between us without pictures. They are mine, understand? Because Beth, I’m a selfish bastard at heart. Don’t you see that? I got you and I’m never letting go."

The shadows left her eyes.

Lean back sweetheart.

She smiled and let herself fall back, reaching out her arms skyward and out to the shimmering waterfall. Fearless. She laughed with joy and abandon and he reveled in the sound. When she declared she’d had enough, he pulled her back into his arms, steadying her as she fell against him. He grinned. She’d never been more beautiful, her hair wild and tangled. He'd bet his life she wasn't thinking about pictures.

I promised myself I would see you this way, he said roughly.

You did?

He laughed at her doubtful expression. You didn’t think I thought past rescuing you, did you?

No.

One word, again. He thought she might say more, but she frowned, tilting her head to the side. Do you hear that?

Ben tensed, registering the sound as not quite white noise, but a rhythmic, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. Her eyes widened, locked on some point over his shoulder. Oh, God. He swung around, keeping his arm around her shoulders. It was a second before he saw the helicopter swoop over the ridge of trees. It hovered, black and menacing. He swore.

Oh, God, Beth said again. She closed her eyes tightly shut. It’s not real. It’s not real.

I wish to hell it wasn't. Ben grabbed her hand. Come on.

She didn’t move.

Beth, we have to go. Now!

He gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. Her eyes darted from the helicopter back to him. You see it too?

Yeah. I see it, he confirmed grimly. Now move!

They ran down the path heading for the Jeep. Beth stumbled, her ankle turning in the blasted sandals. She gave a cry of pain when he helped her stand and he picked her up, carrying her the rest of the way. They didn’t have a chance and he knew it, the whir of the helicopter sounding more mocking than any bird of the forest. But they made it to the Jeep. Ben started the engine, throwing it into gear. The tires churned in the gravel and Beth shot him a hopeful look.

They didn’t get far. Two vehicles rounded the bend, blocking the road. Ben braked hard.

Shit. He smacked his palm against the steering wheel. For long seconds they sat in silence. Catching her glance, he tried not to look as grim as he felt. Will you stop looking so miserable?

We are in big trouble, Ben. Huge.

He almost smiled at her summation, but caught himself when her shoulders slumped and she took the blame. I’m sorry. I knew this would happen.

Ben arched a brow. You knew Daddy would send a helicopter?

Even in her tension, he caught how she prickled at the mocking emphasis he placed on the word Daddy. She bit her lip and gave a nervous laugh he suspected was born of rising terror. No, not exactly.

Three men approached the car, their bulging muscles straining against their suit jackets. He knew what was coming. I underestimated the Senator. I’ll give you that. It won’t happen again.

Beth fumbled with the zipper to shut the windows. I wish we'd rented something else instead of this Jeep.

Like what? An armored car? He thought it, but didn't say it. She stopped fiddling with the zipper and turned to him. What are we going to do?

She looked at him as if he were a magician with a rabbit to pull out of a hat. He wasn't. There wasn't anything he could do to stop the outcome. Not this time. He hated that she was afraid and what she was about to see, but she’d be all right, he told himself. This was a temporary setback. Most of all he felt like a fool for getting caught off guard. He kept his face expressionless and answered her question. You’re going to get out of the Jeep and catch a ride with these gentlemen. I’m going to get out and get the crap beat out of me.

She gaped at him. That’s not funny, she whispered, going pale.

One of the men went to her side of the Jeep and the other to Ben’s. A muscle ticked in his jaw. No, it’s not. But that’s what’s going to happen.

The muted slap of something hard against her plastic window made Beth jump. Miss Burke, we need you to come with us.

Beth gripped his arm. They don't know we're married. If we just explain...

It won't matter.

Beth swallowed. He knew she accepted that these men had their orders. They wouldn't listen. If - - if I go with them quietly, they won’t touch you, right?

A fist slammed against the tarp hood of the Jeep, nearly noiseless but Beth cringed away from the indent. Mr. Riley, get out of the car.

Ben ignored the order, looking only at Beth. Honey, I won’t lie to you. This is about teaching us both a lesson.

Beth grabbed her purse from the floor and dumped out the contents into her lap. She found her phone. I’ll call Daddy in Washington. I’ll get him to tell them to stop. Trying to punch in the number, she shouted at the man jiggling her door handle. Leave us alone!

She lost her fumbling grip on the phone and it clattered to the floor. As she bent down to retrieve it, Ben leaned forward and unzipped her window. He spoke to the goon at her door in the same tone he’d use at a restaurant drive through. We just need a minute. Can you give us that, buddy?

The man looked taken aback, but gave a nod. One minute.

Got it! Beth sat up in her seat and Ben put his hand over hers, blocking access to the phone. She looked up at him, confused. What are you doing? I have to stop this.

You can’t.

I have to try!

Beth! His voice shot out like a bullet. He pointed skyward. Look up.

She’d never heard the harsh coldness in his voice, but he had to make her understand. She looked at the helicopter hovering like a bird of prey.

Ben leaned close and spoke low against her ear. I have no doubt your father is in that helicopter, Beth. He wants to watch and see this for himself. He’s not going to back down.

She turned her head and met his eyes. He knew she’d lost her last illusion. He hated that he’d been the one to take it from her. I will never forgive him for this, she whispered. Never.

He brushed her hair back. Honey, it will be okay. The best thing you can do for me is stay out of harm’s way. Do you understand?

Her eyes welled with moisture. Just don’t make me a widow. Okay?

Not a chance, Mrs. Riley. He resolved he’d do whatever he had to do to even the playing field…once he got out of this. Go, Beth. I’ll catch up as soon as I can.

She swiped at her eyes and he saw it took a great effort to force her hand to reach for the door handle. She looked back and Ben had a gut wrenching premonition. Her eyes didn’t quite focus and he knew she was withdrawing. He’d failed her. Impotent fury nearly choked him at how he’d rescued her only to have her taken back.

Remember one thing, he said softly.

Wh -what?

He held her gaze. No matter what happens, I will always come for you.

Loud thumps beat again on the hood. Time’s up, Riley.

Ben spoke each word with slow precision, as if they had all the time in the world. Always, Beth. Nothing on this earth will keep me from you. Got it?

He felt her slipping away. Leaps of faith weren’t in her nature on the best of days, and now might be a classic I-told-you-so moment, but it angered him that she gave up. It wasn't in his nature to give up.

Do you trust me Beth? He roared the question.

Beth jumped. Her eyes cleared and she smiled. Yes.

Ben smiled back. Good girl.

He threw his door open. It hit the man standing next to the Jeep with a hard blow. He heard a satisfying grunt of pain. And he was damn proud when Beth did the same with her door.

But there were more men than surprises.

Chapter 2

Three years later…

Come on, honey, give me a hint.

No hints! You’ll just have to wait.

Just one.

Beth paused and he thought he had her. They’d done this many times, played their abbreviated form of twenty questions over the phone about his homecoming surprise. This time he was in Miami International Airport on a layover from South America. One more plane and a taxi from Washington’s Reagan National and he’d be home. He never took it for granted. A lot had happened since New Zealand when Preston Burke had tried his damnedest to end his marriage to his daughter before it had begun, but he’d failed.

He waited for his hint from Beth, confident she’d cave. She always did. But instead of the breathy, sexy clue that might be one word, like satin or bunny-tail he heard a muffled exchange. He frowned, impatient at the interruption. Beth’s cajoling tone begged just one but a voice in the background denied her -- and him --with an emphatic don’t you dare!

He knew that voice. Ben straightened from his slouched position on the hard airport chair. The little minx. Beth had recruited help from a far more devious mind. He felt his victory slip away even before Beth came back on the line, her voice firm, if somewhat regretful. "Not this time, Ben. I’ve