Protecting Summer

Book 4: SEAL of Protection

by Susan Stoker

Genres: Military Romance; Romantic Suspense; Romance; Action & Adventure Romance; Contemporary Romance; Later in Life Romance; kidnap; rescue; scarred hero; kidnapping; serial killer

Synopsis

Sam “Mozart” Reed’s life changed the day his little sister was found abused and murdered when he was fifteen. He’s spent the past nineteen years looking for the serial killer who took his sister from him and ruined his family. Using his connections, and SEAL training, Mozart believes he’s finally tracked the killer to the town of Big Bear, California.

Summer Pack is working in a crappy motel up at Big Bear Lake until she can find something better, more meaningful, more real. Living in an unhealthy situation, she meets a man who is everything she’s ever dreamed about and who helps her see that there are some people in the world who will actually do what they say they will.

But somewhere in Big Bear a killer is waiting to strike again. Watching for the perfect victim.

Release date: March 3, 2015

Publisher: Susan Stoker

Print pages: 254

Sample

Chapter One

 

 

Sam “Mozart” Reed fingered his scarred cheek as he drove his old battered truck toward Big Bear Lake. He’d only told his friend and Navy SEAL teammate, Cookie, where he was going. It wasn’t as if he was keeping it a secret from the rest of the team, but he’d been on so many of these “leads” in the past, he’d learned to keep them close to his chest in case it turned out to be nothing.

 

The good part about being on such a close-knit team was that Mozart knew if he asked for help, all five of his friends would drop whatever it was they were doing to come and assist him. Hell, they probably already had a very good idea of where he was.

 

And this could very well be a wild-goose-chase, just as most of the other leads Mozart had recently followed up on, but he couldn’t blow it off. He’d spend every spare minute he had on any lead, no matter how crazy, because it might, just might, lead him to Ben Hurst.

 

Mozart had been fifteen years old when his little sister, Avery, was kidnapped. His entire neighborhood in their small town in California had acted quickly and search parties were set up. It’d been an excruciating long seventeen days. Every day had been full of searches and television appearances. His parents had begged and pleaded with whomever had taken Avery to bring her back.

 

In the end, it’d been a couple hiking in the woods two hundred miles away that found Avery’s body. They’d been on a scavenger hunt and had almost tripped over her remains, naked and dumped in the dense forest as if she was trash.

 

Mozart would never forget the day his parents had heard the news. He’d never seen his dad cry before, but that day he’d bawled. His little baby girl had been violated and murdered. It wasn’t something a fifteen-year-old boy could ever forget. His parents were never the same after that and divorced, as many parents of missing and murdered children did, because of the strain. Mozart’s dad had passed away a few years later and his mom remarried a man with a ton of money. He didn’t see her much anymore, she was too busy gallivanting around the world, trying to forget she ever had a daughter, and definitely not caring her only son was still alive.

 

The cops had never found the person who’d killed his sister. They were pretty sure they knew who’d done it though. A drifter named Ben Hurst had been traced to their area at the same time Avery had been nabbed. Hurst was a survivalist-type guy who was just as comfortable living off the land as he was living in the middle of a big city. He was big, about six feet tall and weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds. It would’ve been easy for him to overpower Avery, hell, any child. Hurst was a nasty man who’d spent time in jail for molesting children and for assaulting several different people, and showed no signs of rehabilitation after each of his stints behind bars. It wasn’t a stretch to believe Hurst had seen Avery walking home from school and snatched her right off the street. The problem was, the cops couldn’t prove it.

 

Hurst never cooperated with the investigation, of course, and as the years went by, other cases took precedence for the police department. Mozart would never stop searching, however. He’d taken one look at the face on the booking photo he’d seen and memorized it. Mozart vowed to avenge Avery one way or another and he’d made it his goal in life to catch Ben Hurst and make him pay.

 

Mozart had joined the Navy right out of high school with the specific goal of becoming a Navy SEAL. All his life he’d watched movies and TV shows about the SEALs. They were the best of the best, and the toughest men he’d ever seen. Mozart knew that was what he needed to become if he was going to catch Hurst and make him pay for what he’d done to his baby sister.

 

 His dad might not be alive to see justice served, and Mozart had no idea if his mom would even care anymore, but he couldn’t let it go. Mozart had stood next to his sister’s tiny little coffin and swore to her that he’d never rest until her killer was behind bars or dead. Even as a teenager, Mozart hadn’t backed away from the thought of being the one to kill whomever had murdered Avery. He’d spent the past nineteen years trying to fulfill that promise. It was hard-wired into him now. Nothing and no one would prevent him from following through.

 

Mozart thought back to the last Christmas he had with his little sister. Avery had been so excited. She’d woken him up way too early and they’d gone downstairs and sat in front of the Christmas tree, presents piled up around it. She’d insisted on “sorting” the presents, even though Mozart had warned her their mom would be pissed.

 

Mom had been mad, but Mozart talked her down and he’d watched with pleasure as Avery exclaimed over her presents. She was the type of kid who appreciated every single thing she’d been given. The cheesy stuffed bear that Mozart had given her had received the same praise as a cheap bracelet set given to her by their neighbor. Mozart had loved Avery with every fiber of his being. She was innocent and precious. Losing her had nearly killed him. He’d barely graduated from high school; his grades had fallen drastically after her death. Life had no meaning, until he’d graduated from BUD/S and made it his mission in life to find Ben Hurst.

 

Mozart would use his leave to follow up on any lead he’d get to try to track Hurst down. Tex, their computer hacker friend in Virginia, had been monitoring the internet and his computer network for any mention of the man. It was pure chance that Hurst had possibly been seen in Big Bear Lake in California. Big Bear wasn’t that far from Riverton, down by San Diego, and Mozart had a week of leave coming to him. They’d been on some intense missions recently. Not to mention, Caroline and Wolf had just gotten married and were on their honeymoon. Commander Hurt had given the whole team the week off, and they’d all been thrilled. Some real time off, with no chance of being called in for a mission at a moment’s notice. Mozart knew, however, that if the CO knew exactly what he was doing on his time off, he most likely wouldn’t be thrilled, so Mozart had kept his mission of revenge to himself.

 

Mozart thought about his SEAL team buddies as he continued his drive up to Big Bear. He smiled when he thought about Wolf and Ice. Ice, also known as Caroline, was a tough as nails chemist who’d almost single-handedly foiled a terrorist attack on the plane that he, Wolf, and Abe had been traveling in. If it hadn’t been for her, they all would’ve been dead. That alone made her precious to Mozart.

 

Mozart was pleased as he could be that Wolf had finally stepped up to the plate and had asked Caroline to marry him. The wedding had gone as wrong as a wedding could go when the limo the men were traveling in to the church was sideswiped by a car that had run a red light. Caroline never faltered though. After hearing that Cookie had been hurt, she, Fiona, and Alabama showed up at the hospital in all their wedding frippery. After making sure Cookie was going to be all right, and the rest of the team was as well, Caroline revealed that she’d offered the pastor a sizeable donation if she’d come to the hospital to marry her and Wolf.

 

And that’s what they’d done. Wolf and Ice stood by Cookie’s hospital bed, surrounded by their friends and pledged to love each other for the rest of their lives. Mozart would never admit it, even if tortured, but it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. Ice was a hell of a woman, and he was thrilled Wolf had found someone to complete him.

 

Mozart didn’t think he’d ever settle down with one woman though. He was the flirt of the team. Mozart couldn’t remember most of the women’s names he’d hooked up with over the years. Time and time again he’d gone home with some woman from a bar, then left as soon as they’d had sex. That was all it was to him. Sex. Mozart never bothered to “date” a woman, he didn’t need to.

 

Unfortunately, the terrorists that kidnapped Caroline in Virginia carved up Mozart’s face pretty good. Knowing it made him sound like an asshole, but not caring, Mozart figured if a woman didn’t want to have sex with him because of his face, he frankly didn’t care. At least five more women were behind that one that would love to suck him off or spend a night in his bed. Being a SEAL was good for his sex life, nasty facial scars or not. His scars didn’t bother Mozart. He’d been through a lot worse in his life; scars on his face were the least of his worries. Losing his sister to a psychopath was bad. Scars on his face? He didn’t care.

 

Mozart was aware women found him good-looking. When he was younger he’d taken advantage of that, but now it was what it was. He was muscular, as was everyone on his team. He had dark hair that was just a shade too long to be considered appropriate for the military. A woman once told him he had high cheekbones and dark eyes that seemed to be able to look right into a woman’s soul and pull out her deepest desires. It was all bullshit to Mozart, but since his looks helped him get laid, he’d cultivated it.

 

Now, with his once rugged face split by three deep scars on the right side, he had to rely more on his personality to find a woman who would sleep with him. Mozart knew on some level Ice felt guilty about what had happened to his face. He’d told her every time she brought it up that it hadn’t been her fault, and at last, she’d stopped apologizing to him. Mozart was honest when he told Ice he was okay with his face, because he was. He was old enough now, thirty-four, to know he’d escaped death too many times to take life for granted.

 

He was tall, about six four, and he generally towered over most people. That, coupled with his dark intense look, had been good for intimidating bad guys and for making women feel small and cherished, even if it was only for a night. And it was always only for a night.

 

Thinking back to his team, Mozart recalled how Abe had been the next team member to find a woman after Wolf claimed Ice. Abe and Alabama had been together for a while now. Abe had almost screwed it up with her though. Alabama tried to project a tough image, but Mozart, and Abe, had seen right through it. She was currently taking classes at the local community college to see what it was she wanted to do with her life, but for now, she and Abe were disgustingly happy.

 

Cookie and Fiona were also pretty darn happy, but for Fiona it’d been a long hard road. They’d all met Fiona in Mexico where they’d saved her from a sex-slave ring. She’d been violated and the kidnappers had hooked her on some serious drugs. The women in Mozart’s teammates’ lives certainly had the market on strength. They’d all been through some horrific things, but somehow, with the help of their SEAL men, and some professional help, had come through all right.

 

Mozart smiled, thinking about how close all the women were. When the team was called away on a mission they all spent time together supporting each other. Nothing made their men feel better than to know their women had a support system while they were off fighting for their country. Mozart might pretend to be annoyed at the guys for being so attached to their women, but if he was honest, deep down, a part of him was jealous.

 

Mozart had always looked out for others. He’d always been the guy people called when they needed help. He was the flirt, the laid back good-time guy. The guy to take home for a night then left in search of another conquest. Mozart had never known what it was to be wanted for who you were, not for what you could do for someone, or what job you had.

 

Mozart shook his head in disgust. Whatever. In the end, it didn’t matter. He just had to get up to the lake and see if he could find the person that may or may not be Hurst. Once he found him, and either killed him or turned him over to the authorities, he’d see what he could do about possibly getting a long-term girlfriend. Being around Ice, Alabama, and Fiona had made Mozart see, for the first time, that having someone to love might not be the horrible thing he’d always thought it was. Of course, he’d have to find someone as perfect as his teammates’ women, and that would be a pretty tough task.

 

Mozart pulled into the parking lot of Big Bear Lake Cabins and cut off his ignition. Looking at the place, he could only shake his head. He’d made the reservation online. It was cheap and looked clean enough on the few pictures that had been showcased on the travel site. In reality, it was pretty run down and the cabins looked like they’d fall down with one hard storm.

 

There were twelve separate small buildings, each within about five feet of each other. Some had small porches and others just had an overhang over the door. The paint was peeling off most of the buildings, and Mozart could see that most of the roofs on the buildings needed some sort of repair.

 

Mozart noticed a maid’s cart in front of one of the cabins on the far side. He had the mean thought that the maid was probably as run-down as the cabins themselves, but dismissed even thinking about the person that cleaned the crappy motel for a living. There was a small building with a sign that read “Office” off to his right, and next to that what looked like an outhouse. The only reason Mozart knew it wasn’t a restroom was because of the sign on the door that announced it was for storage.

 

Mozart absently fingered the scar on the right side of his face again, he’d noticed he’d started doing that when he was deep in thought, and turned his mind to what his first steps were in trying to track Hurst down. Mozart didn’t care where he slept; he’d certainly slept in worse conditions on most of the team’s missions. Mozart would have moved on and found a different place, but justified staying because he just needed a place to keep his stuff and to sleep each night. If it was clean, it was only a bonus.

 

Mozart exited his truck and headed toward the office. It was time to hunt down a child-molesting killer.