The Heart of the Jungle
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
About the Author
More Suspense from DREAMSPINNER PRESS
Published by
Dreamspinner Press
382 NE 191st Street #88329
Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Heart of the Jungle
Copyright © 2012 by Jeremy Pack
Cover Art by Catt Ford
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 382 NE 191st Street #88329, Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
ISBN: 978-1-61372-462-0
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
April 2012
eBook edition available
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-463-7
There are dreams in this text; words written from the heart about things only imagined at the time they were committed to paper.
To my Jason, and to Elise, who made them come true. The reality is far more beautiful than I could ever have known.
With all my love...
Prologue
FATE was one twisted bitch, and for some reason, on the night of October fifth, Christian James found himself at the tip-top of her shitlist.
Fall was just getting underway in earnest on the night she reached down from on high, gathered up everything she had ever given to him that mattered, and took it all away.
Thick, sodden clouds, heavy with the promise of rain, were rolling in off the ocean like an army marching home from war. Their arrival heralded an early start to the long months of damp and gloomy Seattle winter that lay ahead, and Chris was in a hurry to get home.
Because of the dense blanket obscuring the setting sun, night had come a little earlier than usual, and he hated driving in the dark. It made him edgy. He still saw halos around light sources from the LASIK surgery Michael had insisted he have six months before. Glasses, it seemed, were bookish and outmoded. It was time to get with the present.
Forget the fact that he had never really needed to impress anyone---
Michael did, and that was good enough.
As the speedometer needle climbed past thirty, Chris sent an anxious glance in the direction of the rearview mirror. The road was clear, so he kept on speeding. He didn't need to look at the dashboard clock to know that he was going to be late again.
An offensive speck of lint on the pristine leatherette disappeared with a flick of his finger. How had he missed that this morning? It was a good thing he'd noticed it before Michael did.
The lint reminded him of their earlier phone conversation, and he bristled with defiance.
"Look, I have important work to do," Michael had said.
"I know, but Jack made a last-minute edit to my copy, and I have to rewrite a couple of paragraphs. The proofs have to be to the printer by tomorrow morning."
"You make it sound like you're writing constitutional amendments. For crying out loud, Chris, it's a fucking restaurant review."
No matter how many times he heard it, it always stung. He brushed it off as he always had, telling himself Michael was probably just tired.
He'd often been tired lately. Besides, in comparison to the work Michael did, his column did seem less important.
Michael's brusque tone announced that he had been wrangling with an unruly two-year-old, and as was often the case, he was quick to remind Chris that Brianna wasn't his responsibility. They had an agreement. It was Chris's obligation to take care of everything where she was concerned. He was the one who had signed the adoption papers; therefore, he was the one who bore the burden of her care. Chris didn't view it as a burden the way Michael did. To him, every moment spent in the company of that precious little girl, with her beautiful smiles and mop of curly red hair, was a blissful joy unlike any he had ever known.
"I'll only be an hour late, two hours tops. How is she doing?"
"She's cranky. Keeps asking for you."
"Give her some grape juice. There's a bottle---"
"I'm not giving her grape juice. She'll just make a mess."
"She's two, Michael. Toddlers make messes." He sighed. "Why don't you run next door and see if Harvey will keep an eye on her? She loves him."
"I'm not taking her to Harvey. He'll feed her sugar and she'll be up screaming all night. I have court tomorrow, and I need my rest."
"I'll be home by five at the latest."
"I liked you better when you didn't have a kid."
That was a new low, even for Michael. It even had the faint undertone of a veiled threat, like maybe five years had been enough and he was thinking of unburdening himself.
"I'm sorry." He hadn't known what else to say.
"Just be home by five. I mean it."
Chris's fingers dug into the steering wheel as he replayed the conversation in his mind.
Maybe he was late sometimes. Maybe he didn't always remember to straighten the towels or pick up Brianna's toys. Maybe he wasn't the best at keeping up with the thousands of rules Michael kept making up as they went along. Maybe it was time for a change.
The defiance returned. He checked his short chestnut hair in the rearview mirror and messed it up. Sure, messy hair was a petty barb, but Michael was certain to have a remark about it,