Love Betrayed

By Celya Bowers

A PAIN IN HER NECK!

It all started with a pain in her neck.  Maddox Bradford, Maddie, to everyone, gets a pain in her neck when someone near her is in danger.  This time was no different, but when she does a family roll call, she discovers that her wayward brother, DJ, is missing. Her first thought is to report it to the authorities immediately. 

Her father, Judge Bradford, has other ideas and suggest she check in with a family friend first before filing a missing person's report. The last thing the judge wants is embarrassing publicity during an election year.

ONE LITTLE FAVOR

Private Investigator Sean Conway thinks he is doing his friend a favor.  At the judge's request, Sean takes Maddie's case hoping to convince her that DJ isn't missing and to forget about filing a report.  Sounds easy, right?  Sean soon discovers that this one little favor is going to cost him something he's not ready to give.  His heart.

Sean convinces Maddie to help him look for DJ, but every lead they dig up more details about her brother than Maddie ever thought possible. The more time she spends with Sean, the more emotionally invested she becomes. Maggie has always been her own person; men just didn't figure into the equation. Until Sean entered her life. Every kiss they share leaves her wanting more.   

The more they both realize that DJ isn't missing but is in trouble. Finding DJ brings more problems to the couple than answers.  Maddie wants to believe in her brother, but when Sean confronts her with new information, she must decide Sean or DJ.   

Will Maddie make the right decision?  Will she listen to her heart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Perry-Shaw Publications
• Release date: Aug 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393737711

Book preview

Celya Bowers

Love Betrayed

August 2020

This is a fictional work and the characters are a product of my imagination.  Any correlation to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Cover photo: Erhan Dayi

Acknowledgements:

I would like to take this time to thank my support group.  My sisters, Jeri and Sheila, my brothers, William and Kim, for always being there for me.  My nieces, Shannon, Yolanda, Celya and Kennedy, for helping me out when necessary. I love you guys so much!

A big thank you to my BFFs: Cherry, Erica, Donna, Lewis, Maria, Judy, Daniel, Angela, Diane, and Sharon.  I appreciate every minute you helped me with a plot problem.  You guys rock.

To my readers, thank you so much for your support and words of encouragement.

If I forgot you, I’m sorry.  Charge it to my brain, not my heart.

Keep reading!

Celya Bowers

www.celyabowers.com

1

SOMETHING WAS WRONG.

She felt it in her soul.  Something was very wrong. Maddox Bradford, Maddie, to her friends and family, closed her eyes, hoping the sensation stirring at the back of her neck would subside.  It did not.  The pain increased.  

That could only mean trouble.  A sharp pain at the base of her hairline told the entire story. Someone in her family was in danger. She sat up in her king-sized bed and grabbed her cell phone. She instantly called her mother. 

Yes, at five o’clock on a Saturday morning, she dialed her newly retired mother.  She just had to know if the sensation was right.  Deep down in her heart, she knew it was.  The pain in her neck was never wrong.  She listened as the phone rang a second time.  Please let my parents be okay, she prayed silently as the phone rang a third time.  As it rang the fourth time, she decided to drive to her parents’ home.

She pushed the end button on her phone, rose from her bed, hurrying to her closet to grab some clothes.  Her parents lived about ten minutes away in the most southern part of Arlington. If came down to it, she could make it five minutes.  She was struggling into a pair of yoga pants when her phone rang.  Thank goodness! She hopped to her bed to answer the phone. Mom?

No, this is Dad, her father said.  You know that woman sleeps through anything.  What’s wrong, honey? 

She smiled at her father’s baritone voice.  David Bradford scared the life out of most people just because of his deep voice, let alone him being one of the toughest judges in Tarrant County.  I was calling to check on you guys.  I got one of my feelings.

Well, Maddie, this time your feeling might be wrong.  Your mother is fine, I’m fine.  Kaelan, Maggie, and Jazz were over for dinner last night.  Remember you had a business engagement or so you said, her father hinted.  I told you to stop working so much. Your business is doing well.

She didn’t want to talk about her business. What about DJ?

Her father sighed.  No, baby, I hadn’t talk to him in a few days.  I’m sure he’s fine.  You know he goes off the radar then pops up.

She knew her dad was just being a parent and not admitting that it had been more than a few days since he had spoken to her oldest brother.  DJ marched to his own drummer and did things on his own terms.  I know, Dad.  But I’ve got this feeling and it’s not going to go away until I figure out where he is.

Yes, I know about your feelings and they’re normally right.  I haven’t gotten any calls, so he’s not in jail or in the morgue.

Harsh, but accurate, she said.  So, he’s been missing at least three days.  Can I file a missing person’s report?  Since her father was a former criminal lawyer as well as now being the judge, he would know what she needed to do.

In Texas, there’s not a waiting period.

She knew that tone.  That was his please do not make this a thing, voice.  Dad, I know something is wrong with DJ, I just have to know what’s what.

I know, Maddie.  You see a problem you solve it, that’s why you are a dynamite PR person.  You solve problems before they can snowball.  Why don’t you come over for lunch and let’s talk about this?

She knew what he was doing.  Stalling.  She couldn’t really blame him.  After all, it was an election year and the last thing he needed was his daughter making a missing person report because of a pain in her neck.  The media would have a field day at his expense, and he would probably lose the election.  She could not be a party to that. It was bad enough when DJ landed in jail and it hit the papers.  Okay, Dad, I’ll come for lunch today.  I have a meeting with a new client this morning.

On a Saturday?  I didn’t think the rich worked on the weekend?

She laughed.  My new client is Hunter Brown.

The Hunter Brown, author of the Blake Chronicles, my favorite books?  He hadn’t written a book in years.

Exactly.  He relocated to Dallas to be near his grandchildren and is anxious to relaunch his writing career.  This is our first meeting.  She did not want to admit how nervous she was meeting one of her heroes.

I know you’ll do fine, her father reassured her.  See you at lunch.  Stop worrying about your brother. 

Easier said than done.  She ended the call. 

Who would dare interrupt his Saturday morning?  Private Investigator Sean Conway stared at his cell phone as it rang on his bedside table.  It was barely six.  He had just got home from an awfully long night ending with an arrest of the local drug lord and several of his thugs.  The phone rang again. He muttered a curse and pulled one of his prized pillows over his head to muffle to noise.  He just wasn’t feeling it this morning. 

It was probably his mother, he reasoned as the phone continued to ring.  She normally called on the weekends to make sure he was safe.  Here he was almost forty and his mama called him like he was twelve years old on his first sleep over. Finally, the phone stopped, and Sean let a sigh of relief.  Then the phone started the torture all over again.

Resigned to his fate, he reached over and grabbed the ringing nuisance.  Yes, he barked.  It would serve his mother right for calling so early in the morning.

Hello, Sean.  I’m very sorry to call you this early, but I need a favor.

The caller did not have to identify himself.   Sean would have known that deep voice anywhere.  Of course, Judge Bradford, how can I help you? 

I need you to reassure my daughter not to file a missing person report.  My oldest son is out of pocket and she wants to go to the police.  The judge did not have to explain any further, Sean could read between the lines. There was an election at stake.

When do you want me to meet with her? His desk was over running with pending cases, but for this man he would make the time.

I’m going to tell her to meet you at your office Monday.  I’m hoping DJ will show up before then, but just in case, reassure her that she doesn’t need to file a report.

Sure Judge.  Monday. 

Thank you, Sean.  He ended the call. 

Sean stared at the phone before pushing the red button on his phone.  What a way to start a weekend.  Things had to get better.

He rolled over in bed, closed his eyes, and settled in for a good morning nap.  Maybe he could get some of the sleep he lost last night.

Sean closed his eyes and prepared for slumber, but his brain immediately ignited.  The judge’s son. He’d heard the stories about the judge’s wayward son, but he’d never met him in the professional sense. 

Now this was going to bother him, and he would not get any sleep.  He sat up, pushed down the comforter and walked to living room to retrieve his laptop. Knowing he wasn’t going to get any shuteye, he started surfing the net.  At least he knew his name.  David Bradford, Jr. 

He sat on his bed and opened his laptop. Being a former police officer did have its perks, he thought as his navigated to the police website and entered DJ’s name.  Nothing.  At least that was good news, he mused.  He hadn’t been arrested, found dead, or drunk within the last 24 hours.  At least that was something.

Three hours later, Sean rubbed his tired eyes and finally gave up.  Maybe the judge was right.  His son wasn’t missing. Sean had searched many of the databases he’d used on a daily basis and came up empty. Now all he had to do was convince the judge’s daughter that DJ was just fine.  Seemed simple, he thought as he shut off his laptop.  He crawled back under the comforter and closed his eyes as sleep claimed him.  His last thought before surrendering to slumber was that he probably had more trouble on his hands than he realized.

2

MADDIE ENTERED THE Drip, Arlington’s trendiest coffee shop.  It was located near the local shopping center in the historic district.  The Drip occupied an old two-story building.  It was a very comfortable place, outfitted with sofas, booths, and some tables.  Unlike most coffee shops, this one also sold liquor and had a set food menu. 

She inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee beans and glanced around the room for her client.  She spotted the older gentleman sitting at one of the booths drinking coffee. He noticed her instantly and waved at her. 

She waved back and started toward him.  He stood when she neared the table and shook her hand.  It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Ms. Bradford, he said in his deep New York voice.  He motioned for her to take the seat across from him.  Please, sit down.

Thank you, Mr. Brown.  This is an honor.  I have been reading your books since I was young.  My father is a huge fan.  Maddie took a deep breath to calm herself.  I’m sorry.

Mr. Brown smiled.  Don’t worry, my dear.  I’m glad you enjoyed my books, I enjoyed writing them."

Maddie took out her laptop computer and began typing on her keyboard.  So, what kind of books are your currently working on?

He was a distinguished man.  His smooth caramel skin was pulled tight over high cheekbones. It was very evident he took care of his mature body.  Although, she had to admit this man look nowhere near his sixty plus years.  His long fingers wrapped around the over-sized mug and he brought the cup to his lips before he spoke.  My agent has been shopping around a novel I’ve been working on for the past decade and it’s currently in a bidding war between three publishing houses.  He took a sip as she digested the information.

Maddie nodded.  Is it like the Blake series where he was a detective in present day or like your other books set in the civil war?  She loved everything this man had written in his forty-year writing career.

Actually, it is a mystery with a paranormal twist and is written in current day.  It has been in the back of my brain and I just had to listen.

I’m sorry?  Maddie didn’t want to sound skeptical, but really? In her career as an event planner, she’d dealt with many artists, and she still couldn’t wrap her head around this creative stuff.

Mr. Brown laughed.  Sounds out there, doesn’t it?  It’s not.  Everyone has an inner voice.  Intuition, some call it.  Something that tells you not to do something or to do something when everyone around you tells you it’s a bad idea.  Always listen to that voice.

Then she understood.  I think I get it.  I have a sharp pain in my neck when something is wrong, she admitted.  Mr. Brown, if you have three offers from publishers, what do you need from me?

Please call me, Hunter.  I want to change my image.  I’m known for detective books geared toward the black male perspective.  This is a different direction.  Dedicated fans might not like the change.  I need you to make it an easier transition for me and my fans.  Besides, you did some work for my son-in-law and he said you were awesome.

She’d wondered how he got her name.  Her firm wasn’t large, just her and an assistant.  She thought about recent clients and came up blank.  Okay, I’ll bite.  Who’s your son-in-law?

Javier Cortez, Cortez Construction.

Instantly she remembered.  That was two years ago, Maddie said.  How’s he doing?

He’s doing great.  He just sold his business to one of the larger builders for a pretty good sum.  He’s going to retire and spend more time with his family.  The pride was very evident in his voice. 

That’s wonderful.  She felt more encouraged knowing Javier gave her such a glowing recommendation. Now let’s talk about you.  Your last book was released five years ago, right?

Yes, that’s correct.  Wrongly Accused was the last novel.  It won a couple of awards.

It was a political thriller.  Great book.  I couldn’t put it down until I finished it, Maddie said.  I think the first thing we’re going to need to do is take a look at your website.  She brought his website up on the screen. 

"Maybe