Purposeful Betrayal

By P. L. Byers

Wells Kennedy was a driven, ex-navy seal looking for answers in the death of his father. While years before the coroner ruled it as a heart attack, he was convinced there was more to it. Having been released by the Navy due to injuries suffered on deployment, he now had the time to do his own investigation. He would do anything to find the truth—even if it took tracking down every single person in his father’s life and questioning them.
Loss was something that some people experienced more than others. For Brinley Crew it was the way of her life. Having lost her parents at a young age, she knew what it was to be lonely. Somehow, though, God smiled on her and after college she met the man who would be her husband. She reveled in the family life they created until she lost both him and their daughter in a horrific fire. Now she was back to being alone and vowed that she would remain that way. She refused to lose one more person from her life and the only way to prevent that was to remain a solitary figure.
But things are never what they appear to be. For both Brinley and Wells a shocking twist of fate changes their lives and suddenly the danger is real, answers seem further away, and the future becomes more uncertain than ever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665535786

P. L. Byers

P. L. Byers is the author of a dozen novels and counting, including her Out of the Darkness Series and Sister’s of the Heart Trilogy. She is a member of RWA (Romance Writers of America), NERW (New England Romance Writers), and PAN (Published Authors Network). Her love for creating her characters and the stories behind them has been an all-consuming ambition. “If any of my readers get a tenth of the enjoyment in reading my books as I do in writing them, then all the time and effort put into this dream will make it all worthwhile,” she writes. P. L. Byers lives in Franklin, Massachusetts with her kind and patient husband and two incredibly spoiled cats. You can contact P. L. Byers through her website at www.plbyers.com or e-mail her at [e-mail]. You can also follow her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/PLByers.

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© 2021 P. L. Byers. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/27/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-3579-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-3577-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-3578-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021917172

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Author photo taken by Karen Moriarty Photography at www.kemphoto.com

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Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgment

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 Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

About the Author

Dedication

Who would ever have thought we would see a worldwide Pandemic? You read about these things in novels and hear of people predicting them. But to experience it ourselves has been, and continues to feel, unreal.

I dedicate this book to all the first responders who have put themselves in harm’s way to care for others during these unprecedented times. From the doctors and nurses in the hospitals who took care of the sick and dying, to the police officers and paramedics and fire fighters who responded when called upon, to the grocery store workers who kept our stores open so we could buy food. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

There are so many more who stepped up without any recognition or kudos for their efforts. Neighbors looking out for neighbors, simple positive messages written on a sidewalks or on rocks strategically placed around to uplift people as they walk, to name only a few. In this stressful environment any small act of kindness goes a long way. Thank you to those (and you know who you are) for every little thing you thought to do that may have impacted someone in need. Your deeds may not have made the news, but you can be sure that your kindness changed someone’s life.

Acknowledgment

I am so blessed to have a kind, supportive husband encouraging me in my writing endeavors. Thank you, Mark, for always caring about my dreams and for being there when I need you.

I heavily rely on my beta reader when it comes to reviewing my manuscripts. Lisa, you are my first line of defense in catching things that I miss when I’m writing, and you do such a terrific job. It means everything to me that you always jump on board when I need your advice, thoughts and opinions. You are simply the very best!!

Thank you to my editor, Noel. No matter how busy you are, you always willingly take on my manuscripts and it means the world to me that I can count on you. I appreciate all the time and effort you put into them. You do amazing work, and my manuscripts are always better with your critiques and revisions!

Chapter One

B RINLEY CREW PACED the small cabin wringing her hands in frustration. Last night had been a horrible night. For two years she had worked hard at keeping the memories at bay. For two years she had worked through the pain, compartmentalizing each moment into a metaphorical box and safely tucking them away, somewhere in the back of her mind. It did her no good to remember. It only brought excruciating agony and debilitating pain. No, memories were for those fortunate souls who had happy things to remember. Her life was a series of losses and better left to the murky recesses of her mind.

So why now? What had triggered the nightmares to come to her at this particular time after years of tenaciously working to keep them at bay?

Sighing in frustration, Brinley made herself a cup of tea. When it was ready, she grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and made her way outside to the makeshift patio and sat in the only chair next to a picnic table and a small fire pit. Wrapping the blanket tightly around her, she settled in and took a sip of her tea.

Listening to the bubbling sound of the rain-laden stream, Brinley closed her eyes and let the sound lull her into a better mood.

She loved this place. The cabin was not much to speak of. To say it was rustic was being kind, but it suited her needs. And while she had a comfortable bed, electricity, and a working washer and dryer, its most redeeming quality was the seclusion. The nearest cabin to hers was at least a mile away with trees and rocky terrain separating them. The fact that it had been left empty the past year was an added bonus.

Brinley had hoped that living in Green River, Wyoming, for the past few years would give her the solitude to heal from the devastating loss of both her husband and young daughter. Her friends had tried to convince her that running away wouldn’t help her recover from what had happened, but their concerns fell on deaf ears. The thought of returning to a normal life without her family was too much to bear. So, once husband and daughter were cremated and buried next to each other and she’d endured their memorial service, she searched online for a secluded cabin nearly four hours from Casper, Wyoming. She signed a three-year lease and walked away from everything that was familiar to her.

In the beginning, she never left the cabin. Her days consisted of lying on the mattress in her bedroom, curled in a fetal position, sobbing until her head pounded, then moving to the couch where she would sit and stare blankly at the knotted wood of the log cabin. Day and night ceased to exist. She moved robotically, eating only when she felt like she needed to, relying on cups of tea and stale crackers to keep the hunger pangs at bay.

Eventually the tears finally stopped, leaving in their place an emptiness that nothing could fill. Brinley tried reading a few of the books that she had brought with her but when the third chapter came and went and she couldn’t remember a single thing she had read, she finally gave up. Instead, she started taking walks. At first, she started with a few laps outside around the cabin. When she could do that without becoming breathless, she increased how many times she went around. Before she knew it, Brinley started venturing out further, across the small bridge that spanned the width of the stream, down the gravel driveway and back. Within another month, her walks extended from beyond the driveway to a path she found nearly a hundred yards from the property she was renting. Gradually Brinley started jogging and before she knew it the exercise became a part of her daily routine.

The gaunt, hallow lines of her face were slowly disappearing and the bruised skin beneath her eyes was turning back to a healthy pink. The one thing that remained was the desire to be left alone. The only time she left the cabin was when she needed to resupply her cabinets. Whereas before teas bags and crackers were her staples, she was now branching out to proteins and leafy vegetables. Cans of tuna were always on hand, helping her to delay the inevitable trip into town. The locals had gotten used to their reclusive neighbor, nodding politely when she made her trips into the small store, keeping conversation to a minimum, respecting the privacy she obviously sought.

Brinley adjusted to the climate of her secluded cabin. The first winter quickly taught her that she needed to keep her supply of wood at a certain level. While the cabin did have an oil-burning furnace, it was old, and she learned that she couldn’t rely on it at all times. After one particular cold night spent wrapped in several blankets in an effort not to freeze, she set out the next morning to find a way to have wood delivered. There were some comforts she was willing to pay for and heat ranked up there with a working bathroom. Rustic was one thing; cold was something else entirely. And since she wasn’t exactly a wood-chopping lumberjack, she needed to find an alternative.

After inquiring at the small store she frequented, Brinley made her way to the home of an older gentleman who seemed to like his solitude as much as she did. When the gruff man answered the door, she explained that the store owner had referred him and asked about wood deliveries. After a few minutes of bargaining back and forth, Brinley left with a smile on her face, satisfied with the deal she’d made. From that point on, she got regular deliveries of perfectly cut wood, dumped at the end of her driveway every other Sunday during the winter months. It didn’t bother her to carry it to her cabin and stack it herself. She liked the exercise and she got to keep her privacy. As long as she put cash in an envelope and put it in the rusted tin that served as her mailbox for him to grab after the delivery, they were good. It was a system that worked for them both.

Draining the rest of the tea from her mug, Brinley pushed the blanket off her shoulders and stood. It was time to get dressed and start her run. While the current temperature was just a little above sixty, it wasn’t going to stay cool for much longer. August tended to bring much warmer temperatures in the daytime hours and according to the weather report, today was going to be no different.

What started out as a quick three-mile run turned into a longer five-mile run in the hopes of clearing her mind from the dreams that had plagued her night. Brinley figured that if she went to bed exhausted, she would be able to close her eyes and not see the faces of her husband and daughter. The memories of what she had lost were just too painful, which was one of the main reasons she refused to put out framed pictures of them. The reminder of what she had lost was simply too much to bear.

Walking into the cabin, Brinley grabbed a bottle of water from her dilapidated but adequate refrigerator, leaned against the scarred linoleum counter and drained the bottle. Tossing it in the garbage, she went into the small bathroom and stood under the weak stream of cool water, washing the sweat of her exercise away.

After several minutes, she shut the taps off and grabbed a towel, drying off before stepping from the tub. When she was dressed, she went back into her living room and made herself a sandwich, listening to an old radio as she munched on her lunch.

This was the worst part of her day. Getting from lunchtime to when she could finally go to bed. There was no television to keep her mind busy. No Internet that allowed her to stream videos or surf the web. Her cell phone didn’t even get reception from the cabin, so it was sitting in a drawer, its battery long dead from not being used. In fact, the only way she had to reach the outside world was if she went to the store where she bought her groceries and used their Internet. It wasn’t a fancy Internet café like they had in Casper, just a small table near the front of the store, but it got the job done when she needed to pay any bills online. The old man who rented her the place had offered to bring someone out to investigate getting a few modern conveniences, especially when he learned how long she’d wanted to live there, but Brinley had refused. She no longer wanted anything to do with a world that had taken everything from her. It was best if she lived the rest of her life alone. You couldn’t take anything from someone who already had lost everything.

Shaking her head to dispel the melancholy that was invading her thoughts, Brinley finally took out one of the puzzles that had been left behind by someone who had previously rented the cabin and sat down at the kitchen table. For the next hour she removed the pieces of the thousand-piece puzzle box and organized them into categories by color and the straight edge border pieces. When that task was complete, she started connecting the border before beginning to work on the interior. The only time she stepped away from her task was to make a quick salad for dinner.

By midnight she had most of the puzzle put together. Usually, she couldn’t stop a project until it was completed but her eyes ached from the strain and her shoulders hurt from being hunched over the kitchen table. As much as she tried avoiding going to bed, she could no longer put it off.

Scooting her chair back, Brinley stood and rubbed her eyes. Sighing heavily, she made her way to the tiny bathroom to brush her teeth and put her nightgown on. When she was done, she crawled under the covers of her bed and laid with her head on the soft pillow, praying for pleasant dreams. As her eyes drifted closed, she thought of clear blue waters, crashing waves, and hot sandy beaches.

Chapter Two

S MOKE FILLED HER lungs. As hard as she tried to take in air, only the acrid stench of burning wood seeped in. She was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it.

Clawing at her throat, with tears streaming down her face, Brinley tried one last time to stand but something was holding her legs from being able to move. Thrashing around, her hand connected with something hard, the pain shooting up her arm, waking her from the nightmare gripping her mind.

Drawing in several shaky breaths, Brinley opened her eyes and looked around the room. No smoke, thank God. Just her mind forcing her to relive the worst moments of her life.

Frustrated, she kicked the blankets to loosen the grip they had around her legs and shakily stood and brushed her shoulder-length hair from her eyes. Damnit, she whispered, walking into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

Walking back to the bedroom, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table and groaned. Four o’clock in the morning. Knowing there was no way she would be able to go back to sleep, she threw on the tattered robe she kept on the chair in her room and drew it on. Once in the kitchen, she put water in the bent pan she kept on the stove and turned the burner on. Grabbing a mug, she stuck a tea bag in it, a teaspoonful of sugar and waited for the water to boil. When it was steeping, she carried the mug to the table and looked down at the puzzle. Why not, she grumbled out loud and sat down to finish her project from the night before.

By the time the sun was starting to rise, Brinley had completed the jigsaw puzzle, made her bed, brushed her teeth, and was dressed and ready to start her day. She did a few simple stretches to get warmed up, then went outside to start her run.

Inhaling the crisp morning air, she looked around in appreciation. The quietness of her surroundings had ceased to bother her. She took solace in the fact that there was no one around to interrupt her morning runs. She liked being out on the trails alone, left to her thoughts, not having to interact with anyone.

Brinley started out with a slow pace. She wasn’t in a hurry to get back to the cabin. Especially after the nightmares of the past two nights. Instead, she slowly jogged along, taking in the beautiful view as the sun peeked through the trees, chasing away the last of the mist that hung in the early morning air. Dew dripped onto her heated skin as she brushed past the long hanging branches, causing a burst of goose bumps to cover her arms.

Several times Brinley had to slow her pace after slipping on the damp, leaf covered trail. She was an early riser by nature, but she wasn’t typically running at this early hour. Usually by the time she got started the moisture had gone from the night before. This morning, however, she needed to go carefully because of the dampness.

By the second mile she hit her stride and was able to pick up the pace a bit. Sweat started to drip from her skin as the sun heated the day. Still, Brinley kept going, hoping the exhaustion from extending her run would help her to forget the nightmares.

Why now? Why after months of peaceful dreams was she being plagued? It wasn’t as if she’d been thinking about the past. It was behind her. She’d worked very hard to make sure that it stayed there. So, what was it that was bringing everything back again? She’d done her time. She’d cried and raged at the world, then worked hard to move forward. So again…why now?

Heaving a deep breath, Brinley picked up her pace a little more. Unsure whether she was out to torture her body or try to outrun the nightmares, she kept going, ignoring the signs her body was trying to give her. In fact, Brinley was so distracted with her thoughts that she completely missed a root that was sticking up through a pile of leaves. Her foot caught on it, jolting her body to a stop as her foot stuck between it and the ground. She went down, her arms flailing about as she tried to break her fall. Her body hit the ground with a jarring bump, her head hitting something hard as she landed.

Lying on the ground motionless, Brinley could do nothing but try to breathe. Minutes went by before she could even consider trying to move. Her entire body was nothing but a lump of quivering flesh. The pain radiating from her ankle and head made her so nauseous that she thought she was going to throw up. Panic started to well as she began to realize her circumstance. She was in the middle of nowhere with no way to get help. In fact, she’d been so distracted with her thoughts that she’d veered onto a path that she’d never been on before. She didn’t even know exactly where she was or how close civilization was to her.

"Calm down," she lectured herself aloud. Panicking was only going to make matters worse.

Rolling onto her back, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Brinley gingerly touched her head where it had hit the ground. She’d just managed to turn her head as she fell forward but didn’t protect it fast enough. She felt a large lump that had already begun to form on her right temple. When she pulled her hand away, she looked in horror at the red smear on her fingertips. Blood couldn’t be a good sign. And by the amount on her hand, it was obvious that she had a good-sized gash at her temple.

Moving her leg to disentangle her foot from the root, Brinley inhaled sharply when pain shot up and through her knee. Placing her hands behind her back, she tried scooting backward to dislodge her ankle, being careful not to twist her knee in any direction. When she was finally free of the protruding limb, she reached down to pull the leg of her jogging pants up. When the material reached her calf, Brinley examined her ankle, groaning when she how swollen it was above her sneaker. She wasn’t sure what was most concerning. The lump and gash at her temple, her swollen ankle, or the pain that screamed up her leg whenever she moved her knee. How on earth was she going to get out of this mess?

Brushing at the blood that had trailed down her cheek, Brinley looked around, hoping she would be able to see another jogger somewhere in her vicinity. When minutes had passed and her prayers went unanswered, she gave up and started to look around to see if there was a sturdy branch that had fallen near her that she could use as a crutch to help her walk. Finding nothing, she used her hands to scoot to the edge of the trail hoping to find something that could help. As her knee and ankle bumped the ground with her every movement, tears began to streak down her face.

She’d moved no more than five feet before she gave up and sat on the