Leaving Sinful: Miss Fortune World: Sinful Stories, #6

By Shari Hearn

Amid fears of her location being compromised, Fortune is extricated from Sinful in the middle of the night and relocated to a 55-plus trailer park in the Arizona desert, where she is to pose as the niece of recently deceased Olive, a woman many there think was murdered.

Harrison gives her one order: Under no circumstances should she have any contact with anyone back in Sinful.

Yeah, like that's going to happen.

A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR: Leaving Sinful was first published on November 28, 2016 as part of the Miss Fortune Kindle Worlds program (which ended in July of 2018). It is now part of the Miss Fortune World published by J&R Fan Fiction. I wish to thank Ms. DeLeon for graciously allowing other writers to explore their own writing in a most Sinful way.

Sinful Stories is a series of stories written by Shari Hearn within the Miss Fortune World featuring Fortune, Gertie and Ida Belle. They may be read in any order; however, they do follow the timeline of Jana DeLeon's Miss Fortune series with regard to Fortune's relationship with Carter. With the earlier books in the series, Carter doesn't know Fortune's true identity. As Jana DeLeon's series changes with regard to Fortune's continued threat from Ahmad, future stories within Sinful Stories will reflect those changes.

Currently, the stories within Sinful Stories include:

Nearly Departed

Mutiny on the Bayou

Overdue

Nearly Beloved

Rematch

Leaving Sinful

Murder on the Sinful Express

• Language: English
• Publisher: J&R Fan Fiction
• Release date: Aug 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386538219

Book preview

Acknowledgements

A HUGE THANKS TO JANA DeLeon for allowing other authors to write stories in her Miss Fortune world.

To Carla and Kathleen: thank you both for your wonderful notes.

Cover designed by Susan Coils at www.coverkicks.com

Chapter One

SINFUL, LOUISIANA – July 21 – Midnight

Go-Go-Go!

Harrison barked out the orders as I raced around my bedroom gathering as many articles of clothing that would fit in two duffle bags.

Just ten minutes ago I was asleep. He had a key to my place; Director Morrow had seen to that. It had always been a backup plan that if my location was ever compromised, Harrison would come extricate me. No matter the time. No matter the place.

Now was that time.

I emptied my dresser drawers into one duffle bag, tucking my trusted nine-millimeter between a couple pairs of shorts. In another bag, I threw in several pairs of yoga pants, jeans, shirts, shoes and sandals. I raced back into the closet and tugged on the hidden latch, sliding the closet panel aside, revealing the secret storage unit Marge had installed for her weapons collection. I grabbed several handguns.

What the hell are you doing? he asked. We need to go.

The real Sandy-Sue won’t need these, I said, wrapping the guns with several pairs of yoga pants.

After securing the guns inside my duffel bag, I dropped to the floor on the side of the bed.

What the hell? Fortune, come on, we don’t have much time.

I need Merlin. He’s hiding under the bed. I peered into the darkness and saw two green eyes staring at me. Frightened eyes. It’s okay, Merlin, come on, just come with me.

Harrison grabbed my arm and pulled me up onto my knees. You know you can’t take him.

He’s my cat. Who’s going to take care of him?

It’s okay. I’ve got it handled.

I have to call Ida Belle and Gertie.

You can’t call them. Fortune, you know the drill.

Carter.

He shook his head. YOU can’t tell anyone.

I have to see Carter before I leave.

Dammit, Fortune! We have to go. You want us both to get killed? Because I’m getting married in a few months, and I swear, if you get me killed before then...

I saw the fear in his eyes. I grabbed my cellphone from my nightstand. He held out his hand.

My life as Sandy-Sue Morrow was now coming to an end. I wouldn’t need that phone anymore. My eyes stung with tears as I handed it to him. My life for the past seven weeks. Now over.

We rushed down the darkened stairs. We couldn’t turn on any lights. Light was our enemy now.

How certain is Morrow that I’ve been compromised? I whispered as we rushed down to the living room.

Certain enough, he whispered back.

Instead of exiting through the door, Harrison ushered me over to a window big enough for both of us to step through. He unlocked it and lifted the pane. His gun drawn, he slipped out first. I followed, also clutching my weapon.

A darkened figure waited for us outside the window. I pointed my gun at it. Who’s this?

I said YOU couldn’t tell anyone. Doesn’t mean I couldn’t. I felt it was necessary to inform local law enforcement, Harrison said.

Carter stepped out from the shadows. I rushed into his arms.

You have thirty seconds, Harrison said. He stepped a few feet back to give us a semblance of privacy. It was against CIA regulations, but Harrison was one of the good guys.

I’ll be waiting for you, said Carter.

I pulled him to me and spent the remaining twenty-seven seconds with my lips locked with his. I needed to sear this kiss into my memory.

Time, Harrison said finally.

Carter continued kissing me. I gently pulled away from him. I’m sorry.

He blinked away the tears, and I, mine. I turned and followed Harrison into a black SUV.

My heart ached as I watched Carter slump against the house as we pulled away. Ten minutes later Harrison sped past the Leaving Sinful sign. I looked back. On the other side of the sign a smiling alligator greeted motorists with a Welcome to Sinful message. The same greeting I had cursed seven weeks ago when my bus brought me to what I thought would be hell.

Little did I know then it was taking me home.

Goodbye, I whispered.

Chapter Two

I WAS DREAMING OF MERLIN. Not Carter, not Ida Belle, not Gertie. But Merlin. In the dream I had snuck back to Marge’s house to get him. I crept up the stairs and entered the bedroom. Ahmad was sitting in a side chair, holding a gun to his head.

I’ve already taken care of the deputy and the two old ladies, he said. They begged me to spare them. He laughed. Now it’s the cat’s turn.

I woke with a start, my neck stiff and painful as I straightened up in my seat. Harrison was driving.

Bad dream?

I nodded and groaned. Though it was still dark, I could see the outlines of trees. Some hills. A lighted billboard caught my eye advertising an ice-cream store in Brenham.

Where the hell is Brenham? I had my morning voice. Deeper. Sexy, if I do say so myself. A voice I had hoped to someday share while waking up next to Carter.

An hour and a half outside of Austin.

Something tells me that’s not where I’m ending up.

He shook his head.

I took a moment to fully awaken before asking, Do I get the privilege of knowing where that will be?

In the glove box, Harrison said.

I flipped on the overhead light and opened the glove box. Inside I found a plastic pouch containing a wad of cash, a couple of credit cards and a phony California driver’s license issued to Delilah Garrity, age 29.

Delilah? Don’t tell me, this is another relative of Morrow’s.

Nope, this one’s on my side of the family. She’s a daughter of one of my mother’s cousins, Harrison said. Her Aunt Olive passed away and, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, you’re there to sell her trailer.

I didn’t hear you right. Did you say trailer?

Yep. A fifty-five-plus trailer park in a town called Superstition City, located fifty miles in the desert outside of Phoenix.

You hate me, right?

It’s a double-wide, Harrison said, defensively. Three bedrooms, big screen TV, air conditioner. And you have a little plot of fake-grass lawn with a couple of folding chairs. Just, you know, don’t walk on it in your bare feet. It’s about a hundred and twenty degrees there right now and the plastic grass will melt the skin off your feet.

I shook my head. You got this together pretty quickly. When did the aunt die?

About a month ago. I set it all up then as a possible cover in case we had to move you. My mom said the real Delilah is scheduled to go there in the fall and sell the trailer, so you’ll have the place for a couple of months if need be.

I read the sheet of my new bio. I work as a waitress in a restaurant in Los Angeles while waiting for my big break in Hollywood. I’ve worked as an extra in several films and TV shows, most notably as a cadaver in an episode of a popular crime show. In addition, I’ve also had some paying gigs as a voice-over artist, specializing in crying babies and cat meows.

Crying babies? Tell me this is made up.

Harrison shook his head. I remember meeting Delilah once. She has a different cry for wet diaper and one for hunger. Ask her about it and she’ll demonstrate. Again and again and again.

I want it noted that I think all of this is unnecessary.

During the night Harrison had filled me in on why Director Morrow thought I had been compromised. The intel had come from a snitch with the nickname of Cube. I’d worked