Surrender by Angela Ford

Justice that love gives is a surrender, justice that law gives is a punishment. –Gandhi

    ChapterOne

    “Stay here!” Narcotics Agent Brett Donovan ordered and reached for his gun. He pointed it away from her and released the safety.
    Lauren Reynolds froze. Startled fear raced through her veins. Agent Donovan said they would come back to finish the job.
    Agent Donovan turned off the light and opened the door slightly and looked through the crack down the darkened hallway. He swiftly placed his back against the wall and held his gun in an upright position. “Lock the door and call 911,” he told her.
    His calm voice settled her enough to follow his order. She locked the bedroom door and picked up her phone. With trembling fingers, she dialed 911.
      “There’s someone in my house planning to kill me,” Lauren frantically whispered. The 911 operator asked for her name, address and if she was alone. She told the operator about Agent Donovan then took a quick breath and felt relieved when the operator told her help was on the way. The sudden sound of a gunshot made her jump. Lauren dropped her phone and sucked in a quick breath. She stepped back and hid behind the tall chest of drawers. She shook in fear in the dark. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Why is this happening to me?
    Still dressed in her black Chanel suit, Lauren nervously played with the classic string of pearls that hung around her neck. Her matching hat still lay on the bed. All she removed after the funeral were the black heels she’d just bought at Saks Fifth Avenue the day before. Appearance always remained of the upmost importance to Lauren Reynolds. She loved her husband and mourned his death. Then Agent Donovan knocked on her door with the shocking news that her husband’s death was not an accident.
    Lauren Reynolds came from money, the only child of the Vanderholms of New Jersey, born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her parents wanted her to marry someone from their world but Lauren chose John Reynolds. He owned an import/export business in Jersey. A well-known and respected businessman, John did not come from old money. His warehouse shipped domestic goods around the world—or so Lauren believed. She fell deeply in love with John. She became a widow before their first anniversary.
    An explosion in John’s warehouse took his life. The police closed the case as an accident. Lauren’s family and closest friends gathered after the funeral. She assumed the knock at her door would be a friend who’d forgotten something. Lauren opened the door to a sexy rugged-looking man who flashed a badge.
    “FBI Narcotics Agent Brett Donovan, I’d like to talk to you about your husband’s murder.” He stressed her husband’s death was not an accident and her life was in danger.
    She let him in.
    “Thank you Mrs. Reynolds. I’m sorry to drop by on the day of the funeral, but word on the street is there’s a hit out for you.” Agent Donovan told her that her husband had been involved with the drug cartel and shipped drugs from his warehouse.
    Lauren didn’t want to believe him.
    “That is absurd! Please leave.” Lauren stormed up her spiral staircase from the front foyer.
    Agent Donovan followed her into her bedroom. She tossed her hat on the bed and threw her shoes into the closet.
    “I didn’t mean to upset you Mrs. Reynolds, especially today.” He spoke with compassion.
    “Then why did you come? The police told me the explosion was an accident. How dare you suggest my husband was involved with the drug cartel?” Lauren shouted. Before she could say another word, she heard a noise downstairs.
    “Is there anyone in the house with you?” he asked and quietly shut the bedroom door.
    “No, everybody left,” she replied, startled.

    When the doorknob rattled a few moments later, Lauren peered around the edge of the chest of drawers. She hadn’t moved.
    “Mrs. Reynolds, its Agent Donovan.”
    The sound of his voice relieved her enough to