Collection 2

By Therese A Kraemer

Four Novellas and a short story round out this collection.

Double Jeopardy

Jett Kirtland falls in love with Spring St. John a beautiful woman framed for robbing a Diamond Exchange by her identical twin sister. 
To prove her innocence, Jett must find her twin, who had disappeared many years ago.
 

Rebel Heart

A month after General Lee surrenders to the north, Lance Kendell, a Yankee, captures a southern Rebel. 
Lance soon discovers that the War Between the States did not end for him.
Harmony Morrison, unaware that the war ended refuses to surrender to a Yankee after he captures her.

Seduced

Whether it is real or imaginary, Wayne Duncan spends a day in a fantasy no man would ever forget.

Sweet Persuasion

Elizabeth Reiter forced to marry Regan Werner against her will, threatens him on their wedding night with a knife. She imposed an iron control on herself never to consummate their marriage.
Regan, also forced into this marriage is not swayed by her threat and he is also determined, but to charm her into his embrace with sweet persuasion. 

Sweet Revenge

When Burk Van Horn was a child when his father was murdered and his home set ablaze. Barely escaping with his life, not only was his arm scared by flames but his heart burned with hatred and retaliation for the man who killed his father. Cared for by the Brothers of a monastery he grew to manhood with one thought: revenge!
Clora Thornton raised most of her life in a convent, returns home at the request of her ailing father. Her coach is stopped by a group of men in attempt to rob the occupants. Dressed as a nun, she claims she has nothing of value, and that she is the daughter of Lord Thornton. 
When Burk discovers that she is the daughter of that murderer, he decides that she is very valuable to him and he abducts her for ransom. 
He soon discovers that revenge is sweeter than he expected. 
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spangaloo Publishing
• Release date: Jul 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386023401

Therese A Kraemer

Because I am dyslexic, I find writing a challenge, but my love of writing has inspired me to write more than sixty children’s stories, over two hundred poems and thirty-seven Romance Novels. I have also illustrated two story books used by primary teachers and students as a part of a vocal hygiene program at University of Arizona’s Department of Speech and Hearing Sciences.My credits also include four stories published by McFadden Publishing Co. in NYC. I wrote, illustrated and published two books of poetry used as fund-raisers by the Leukemia and Multiple Sclerosis organizations. I wrote illustrated and published in one book, forty-two children’s stories.I had an exhibition at the King Center for the Performing Arts in Melbourne, Fl of my pen and ink drawings of animals. Recently, I have had three E-Book Romance Novels and a book of short stories published on the Spangaloo.Com website and another on the Smashwords.Com website. I make my home in Melbourne, Florida where I continue to write and illustrate

Book preview

Collection 2

Thérèse A. Kraemer

Copyright Therese A. Kraemer 2017

Spangaloo Publishing

Spangaloo Edition

http://spangaloo.com

Standard Copyright eBooks are strictly protected works. You must not perform any actions, including copying, printing and distribution without the author’s written or printed consent (the author may have already granted certain terms in a statement within a book.) Some of our eBooks are cleared for personal printing if this option has been enabled, The unauthorized sale of Copyright works in any form is illegal.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, incidents, and places are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, people, or events is purely coincidental

Cover Design: James Bryron Love

Ebook Formatting : Alan Thriete

Editors Note:

Many characters in this book have accents and or different speech patterns. The author has attempted to illustrate this phonically. These are not spelling errors.

Contents

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

REBEL HEART

SWEET REVENGE

SWEET PERSUASION

SEDUCED

About the Author

Other Books

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

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 One

Spring St. John was tired. It was Saturday night and due to neglect of her chores during the week, she has a busy day catching up. A Healthy Choice frozen dinner was placed into the microwave, and then her aching feet were plopped on the coffee table. Believing the television did not have too much to offer, since it was spring re-runs, she reluctantly picked up the remote control and surfaced the tube anyway. Her DVD player was now a dinosaur and she didn’t want to spend money for a box to record movies. Her only choice for the moment was news as she waited for her meal to cook.

Half-heartedly, she listened with her eyes closed. When the micro informed her that dinner was ready, by peeping like a truck backing up; it was most annoying. Pouring a cranberry drink, Spring then carried her meal into the living room as the newscaster was saying something about Bentley’s Diamond Exchange. Seems it had been robbed of over a million dollars in gems.

The young newscaster droned on and on, on the cleverness of a young woman who had feigned to be in labor and doubled over pretending to be in pain. One of the salesmen rushed to her side and helped her into the back room. There she pulled, what he claimed to be the biggest gun he had ever seen, from under her skirt. The clerk was rewarded for his kindness with a knot on his skull. But, according to the police, the sore-headed man was able to give a good description of his assailant. For all her cleverness, she was not too smart because before his lights went out, she removed the wig and dark glasses. Spring nearly choked on her chicken the moment the police artist rendering appeared on the screen.

Damn! It was the spitting image of her face staring back at her. Every detail, down to her height of five feet seven inches and her weight, give or take a few pounds.

Although, the picture was in black and white, the voice over the television told the world the hair color was carrot red and her eyes were icy green. Even the mole on her right upper lip was not forgotten.

She felt fear clamp on her innards like a vise.

Needless to say, she lost her appetite.

How many people know me?

Too many, she tried to gather her wits.

Spring owned an advertising agency and had many clients. She was well known about town. Sweat caused beads of perspiration to pop from her forehead and the hairs on her neck to stand tall, like soldiers coming to attention. Her mind was in a panic.

How long before the police will come for me? What will I do? What will I say?

Oh, officer, there must be some mistake; I was downtown shopping all afternoon.

But, she couldn’t prove where she had been. And no one who knew her saw her. She vented a sigh. Spring sat back rubbing her temples, dreading the headache that would develop from the tension. A knock on the door left her with no more time to ponder on her predicament. Although, she expected the dreaded knock, she still jumped as if someone had goosed her.

The police?

No, it couldn’t be, she didn’t buzz them in. Her gazed darted around the room and she had no idea what she was looking for. Maybe she just wanted to see her lovely home for the last time. Her eyes misted as they scanned her modern, little nest, which was decorated mostly white, with splashes of yellow. Plain, not crowded with nick-knacks, almost too spacious and cold, but it was to her liking. There was just a touch of nostalgia with an old rocker from her Aunt Blanche sitting in the corner. Swallowing, she couldn’t even produce enough saliva to spit and she croaked, Just a minute. She composed herself somewhat by rubbing her sweaty palms on the side of her jeans. Squinting out of the peep-hole, she sighed with a well needed breath of relief. It was her friend, Nicky Grey. The pretty brunette’s big almond shaped eyes were open wide and blinking rapidly.

Spring opened the door noticing her friend’s complexion looked as white as winter’s moon. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Nicky had seen the news. The pale girl flew into the room, eyes wide, full of questions and disbelief.

I saw, it’s not me, Spring quickly confessed trying to force some calm into her voice.

My God! It c-could be your t-twin! she sputtered, nonplused.

She nodded in agreement, and then sighed. I think that it is my twin, she murmured.

Nicky’s eye grew wider, if that were possible.

What? You have a twin sister? But you never told me!

Spring snorted in a disgusted manor, and then sat with a grunt. I never told anyone because she’s the black sheep of the family, an embarrassment. We never got along, even as children. She was mean, always playing nasty tricks on me. My mother always said she was my evil half.

Nicky sat also, her mouth unhinged and her chocolate eyes blinking. Befuddled, she rubbed her arms nervously. I feel as if I just woke up in the twilight zone.

I know the feeling, Spring whispered, chewing on her upper lip.

Curious, Nicky asked, Tell me about your sister.

I need a smoke, she murmured.

Oh, no, Nicky snapped. It took you too long to quit.

She gave Nicky a sour look that could make mother’s milk curdle in her tit. Her friend opted to ignore it. She decided to pace if she couldn’t have a cigarette. She took a long drag of air before saying, My sister’s name is Summer. She bit her thumb-nail. I’m no angel, but she was so wicked it amazed me that we came from the same egg. She sat again because her legs were beginning to feel as wobbly as a puppet with its stings tangled. Sitting with a plop, she slouched so far into the chair, she thought that she might be able to fold herself under the cushion and hopefully disappear.

I haven’t seen her for years. Spring stopped talking for a moment deep in thought. Nicky took that moment to shut off the boob-tube, as she called it, since neither was paying attention to it. Spring replied, speaking more to herself, I was born on June 22nd, at eleven fifty-eight, and Summer was born June 23rd, at twelve o’ four, making us a day apart but we’re still identical. I wonder... She cut off her thought and shrugged rubbing her temples; the headache had come on like a tidal wave. But it was expected. She laid her head back and groaned, and then continued. Summer ran away one night when we were fifteen, almost ten years ago. What she didn’t say was that that was the night of the fire, which destroyed her home and killed her parents.

Wow! Nicky shook her head.

Yeah, wow. she agreed with an odd catch in her voice. Now I hope I can convince the police it’s not me. I’m sure they’ll be here soon; many people know me. Oh, No! She jumped and slapped the sides of her face. I just recently did an ad for that diamond exchange; they’ll surely link me to the robbery. She sat with another loud groan and cradled her aching head in her shaking hands. Damn! This is no coincidence, she declared.

What do you mean? Nicky’s fine brows rose in question.

Summer purposely robbed Bentley’s Exchange. Somehow she found out that I did an ad for them.

Her friend’s face could have been pasted under the word confusion in the dictionary the way her brows furrowed in puzzlement. How would she know that you did an ad for them and where you live?

There’s such a thing as the internet! she snapped and immediately regretted her loss of temper. There was no reason to take her frustrations out on her good friend. But if Nicky was offended by her outburst, she didn’t comment. Sorry, she mumbled. Summer’s very smart and I’m not hard to find.

Nicky was so upset. She hugged herself tightly looking as if she might go to pieces.

Buzz!

Oh, no! Spring jumped.

It’s the buzzer! Their words echoed in unison

Spring swallowed, but the stubborn lump refused to budge and she felt faint.

Y-yes, Nicky’s voice cracked when she spoke into the intercom.

Over the slight static of the intercom came a husky voice. This is Detective Jett Kirkland and Detective Phil Griffin to see Spring St. John.

Dreaded silence filled the room, only to be interrupted by two soft moans.

Chapter Two

Buzz them in, Spring ordered with a long sigh.

C-come up, Nicky stammered as she pushed the button to release the lock to the front door. A few minutes later, she let the policemen in. Her friend Spring was too nervous to be impressed by the first man to enter the room, but she noticed how tall and good looking he was. Though concerned for Spring, she couldn’t keep her eye from scrutinizing the detective.

His hair was black as the night New York lost its electricity in a blackout. It was short, too short for her liking, but it was his pale blue eyes that took her breath away and mesmerized her. His nose was wide but... not too and her gaze followed the bridge and stopped on his sensual lips. Nicky would give a week’s pay to kiss them and she wondered if they were as soft as they appeared. He was clean shaven with high cheek bones and he had a square jaw. It gave her the assumption that he was stubborn and sure of himself. His twin dimpled smile went straight to her core and she just had to sit again.

It was his husky voice that snapped her back to the present.

I’m Detective Jett Kirkland and this is my partner Phil Griffin, he informed them as the older policeman passed through the door. Detective Griffin looked twice the age of the handsome detective. The contrast was comical. He was much shorter and heavier but his face was pleasant and when he removed his hat, his hair was thick and white. His eyes were grey and so was his mustache that hadn’t tuned completely white yet.

Please sit, Nicky motioned to the sofa when she found her tongue. Spring just sat zombie-like. I’m her friend, Nicky. We know why you’re here, she boldly said in Spring’s defense. She mustered up some strength to stand behind Spring. But you’re after the wrong person

Skeptically Detective Kirkland quirked his thick eyebrows.

Yes, yes, you see, she placed a hand protectively on Spring’s shoulder. We know she looks like the suspect that robbed the Bentley Diamond Exchange, she’s not.

Nicky! Spring snapped, not intending to growl at the one person who was defending her. I think you might be making it worse. The detectives didn’t say why they’re here.

Who was she kidding?

Maybe she should set out her fine china and invite them for tea. She saw her friend blush at her light reprimand and she almost broke down and cried. She certainly felt as if she could. Why was she mouthing off? Just nerves, she defended her conscience.

Ms. St. John, Detective Jett Kirtland showed his badge, and then shoved it into his pocket. He sat, the other detective remained standing, his jaw stubbornly set, scrutinizing her with a judgmental eye. Spring didn’t like the older detective; he looked as if he was after her blood. She gulped, and forced her eyes to the younger man, whom she now noticed as being the handsomest man she had ever seen.

Why did they have to meet under such circumstances?

She thought he had comforting eyes; she could lose herself in them. They seemed to speak to her and calm her somewhat. That was, until his next words made her realize she might have been too eager to like him.

To Spring he said, Yes, we are here to question you about the theft. Mr. Jacobs identified you; he remembered your recent visit to do some advertising for the company.

It wasn’t very smart of you miss to remove your disguise, the other detective snickered, not even trying to hide the sneering look in his eyes.

Please, Spring wrung her sweaty hands, feeling the weight of Detective Griffin’s stare. She lifted her chin and although her heart was thumping, she met his gaze squarely, without flinching. I know how it looks, but you must believe me, I didn’t do it.

Yeah right, and Pinocchio doesn’t have wooden balls!

Sarcasm dripped from Detective Griffin’s words, there was no convincing him otherwise. But the other detective elected to ignore his partner and she assumed he was used to his partner’s smart mouth.

Nicky puffed up her chest and interjected, That’s right. She has an identical twin sister!

Sergeant Griffin hooted. His laughter was without mirth. Man, now I’ve heard it all. Lady you have some set of—-

Phil! Jett snapped, now irked at his partner himself. He knew what had to be done but he didn’t have to like it. Trying to be as pleasant as possible, he said, I’d rather not cuff you, Ms. St. John, so if you willingly accompany me to the stationhouse for questioning, I’ll—-

Yes, she whispered, I’ll come with you but please give me a minute to call my lawyer, James Steinberger. Jett nodded and he heard her leave a message for her lawyer. Gentlemen, she nodded and grabbed her jacket and purse from the coat rack.

Jett wished Nicky didn’t stare at him as if he had come to eat them alive. Not that that thought did not crossed his mind, but he was here on business, not pleasure. What a shame, both women were lovely. He had evidence to put this Ms. St. John behind bars for years; it was a shame to incarcerate such a beautiful creature. But something was wrong with this picture. Why hadn’t she hightailed out of the country? Why did she let the clerk see her face? Well, he was here to get to the bottom of this, and to the bottom he would get. He hadn’t made detective this young by his good looks alone, at least he hoped not.

At the station, Spring was escorted to a small room with a big two-way mirror, just like in the movies. As soon as she was seated, the interrogation began.

Now, let’s go over this again, insisted Detective Kirtland as his partner stood in the corner with smug look on his face. She groaned inwardly; that bastard was not helping her one iota. Her head was killing her and she was nauseous and claustrophobic. Please, she begged, much more energetically than she felt. Rubbing her pulsating temples, her insides felt empty. I didn’t do it! And I do have an identical twin. Please, you must believe me. Mercifully, the persistent ache turned into a dull throb and she prayed that she’d wakeup from this nightmare, and soon. She didn’t!

Chapter Three

Jett studied the frazzled beauty and again he thought it was a big waste to have to lock her up. But, she was guilty; there was no doubt in every one’s mind but his. Her face showed signs of strain and anxiety and it burned his gut inside-out because he was captivated by her. Although fascinated by her beauty, he wondered about her at the same time. Why would such a beautiful creature, with a prosperous business commit such a crime? She certainly didn’t need the money. His research showed that her agency was growing and she had inherited a large sum of money when her parents died in a house fire. Yes, he did his homework on Spring St. John before he brought her in for questioning.

Jett believed he wouldn’t sleep that night thinking about those lime green eyes, fine cheekbones, thin, upturned nose and those full lips that begged to be kissed. He had to put his hands in his pockets to keep from running them through her thick, curly orange hair that burned like embers. Would he scorch his fingers if he touched the silken unruly thread that unruly framed her oval face like a lion’s mane? And if that wasn’t bad enough, she had a body that could tempt a monk.

Man, are you nuts drooling over a criminal?

He was uncomfortably aware of his arousal and he squirmed in the seat to ease the tightness in his crotch.

Nuts? Yeah, he was nuts, and they were hurting. His problem was raging hormones better suited to a teenage boy than a grown man.

He forced his thoughts back to the business at hand, but then she pulled back her shoulders making her breasts stretch her tee-shirt revealing the outline of her nipples. Damn, she did that on purpose!

Thankfully the door opened and he was snapped from his lusty reflections. Spring St. John looked up and cried, James! Thank God, you’re here she cried and jumped up.

The man in the blue suit held her close as if she were a child. Jett wished she could be in his embrace and the thought angered him.

Ms. St. John’s lawyer looked over her shoulder and asked, Are you booking her? If not, I think you have grilled her long enough, his deep voice was curt.

Jett had no use for lawyers and especially this one. He was no taller than his client, and thin framed. He was a middle-aged smart aleck man, with horned rimmed glasses. The glasses gave him the look he was striving for, and Jett was sure he was as smart as he hoped to look. They were all smart, maybe just a little too, he thought. Too many criminals were being freed because of some loophole or technicality of law. But then it depended on what side of the fence one was on, and sometimes he wished he could build a brick wall.

Jett heard the lawyer grunt and knew Mr. Blue suit was waiting for an answer to his question. I haven’t booked her yet. We are waiting for the clerk, Mr. Jacobs to identify her. She will be put in a line-up shortly, he responded.

An hour later, Ms. St. John was positively identified and spent a night in the holding cell. Her bail was set the next day and because she was a good citizen and not a flight risk, a bail bondsman put up fifty thousand dollars for her freedom until the trial. The woman had to put up her agency for collateral.

Jett dropped by Spring St. John’s apartment two days later. He had convinced himself it was his job to find out, one way or other, the truth. Of course, that was the excuse he gave himself. He was totally intrigued with Spring; he had to know more about this alluring creature. He was in awe of her beauty; tall, slender with curves all in the right places. He had spent two restless nights going over her story in his mind. By the second morning, he had reasoned with himself that she was probably telling the truth. A story like hers couldn’t be made up; it was too unbelievable to be fabricated.

The whole case didn’t make any sense.