Escape from Danger by Linsey Lanier (Wesson and Sloan FBI Thriller #1)
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB | 2.7 MB
It doesn’t matter if you’re innocent…when the guilty come to kill you.
Not long ago Special FBI Agent Simon Sloan found his boss dead in his Washington DC office. He left a letter warning Sloan with one word—Run! And so Sloan did. But he took someone with him. Now he regrets that decision.
PI Janelle Wesson can’t believe she left her job at the Parker Agency for this. She thought she was in love with the secretive FBI Agent. Now she’s racing across South America with him with an unknown enemy at their heels—ready to destroy them as soon as they’re in his sights. Will they survive in time to find out who killed Cooley and prove Simon’s innocence? Or will they disappear for good?
ew she had left the room.
Tears welling up in her eyes, she trotted down the cabin’s twenty wooden steps and hurried through the tall grass of the surrounding field, her leopard print kimono flowing behind her.
Before breakfast she’d thrown it over a pair of pink flare satin pants and a tie-front tank top. On her feet were her pink satin feather slippers with the fluffy tops that made her feel like a fashion model.
Her outfit didn’t go at all with the rugged landscape stretching out all around her. Smokey blue mountains and emerald green jungles rose like a sleeping giant behind the cabin. A crystal blue lake lay ahead of her, another range beyond the water with more miles of woods and rain forests.
She came to a stop at the edge of the lake and forced herself to breathe as she listened to the squawking of exotic birds echoing from the mountains behind the cabin.
The air was so clean here. The freshest she’d ever inhaled. But why wouldn’t it be? There were no other houses. No people lived here, at all. Not for maybe a hundred miles. Or kilometers, she guessed.
Not a boutique or clothing store in sight. She could open one, like she had in L.A. years ago. But there would be no customers.
Pulling her kimono around her, she shivered.
It wasn’t really summer here. It was on the verge of fall, and some of the trees in the surrounding forests were starting to turn color. She’d been so looking forward to warm weather back home. But it was different here at the end of the world, in this deserted place where no one would find them.
A week ago she only knew the word as a brand of outdoor apparel.
Since then she’d learned it was a region in South America, and that they were somewhere near the southern part of Chile, miles south of the equator—in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mountains and jungle.
She thought of the night Simon had come to her apartment in Atlanta and told her he was on the run. They’d taken off together in the middle of the night in an old Ford hatchback he had picked up somewhere. The clunker had lasted until Corpus Christi, which had been a miracle in itself.
Using fake IDs, they caught a plane, flew across the Panama Canal and landed in Peru. From there it was a less than luxurious ride on a rickety bus through the mountains where the hairpin curves and steep drops into the thick jungle below had twisted Janelle’s stomach into constrictor knots.
Somewhere in Bolivia they had switched buses—she was getting used to sleeping on them by then. The next day or so they had reached Argentina. There a guide had taken them deep into a jungle, then across a wide flat plain to a village where Simon seemed to know some of the people. She thought that was where they’d be staying for a while.
Instead Simon picked up supplies, got a jeep from somewhere, and they took off into the wilderness again. Hours later, after traversing mountainous terrain and more jungle, they had arrived here at this cabin.
It was big and beautiful and had all the accoutrements of modern living.