"A fitting end to an exceptional series."
Reviewed by Maria Munoz
Posted December 11, 2011
SWEET REWARD, the ninth in Christy Reece's Last Chance
Rescue series, is a fitting end to an exceptional series.
We briefly revisit many of the characters we rooted for in
the earlier books in the series. The main characters, Mia
Ryker and Jared Livingston, are the strong and dedicated,
yet wounded, characters we've come to expect from Ms. Reece.
The threat is urgent and the pain the team feels knowing
there are children waiting to be rescued is palpable. SWEET
REWARD works well as a stand-alone story but I encourage you
to read the rest of the series at some point because it's
well worth the time.
Jared is surprised to hear from his ex-wife until she tells
him her baby girl has been taken and she wants him to get
her baby back. Jared is determined to help; he is a rescuer
by nature and carries much guilt from his failed marriage.
Following a lead takes him to Chicago where he meets Mia who
runs her own rescue organization (and is the only operative
LCR ever fired). She is also investigating a missing baby
and thinks their cases are related. As they work together
and follow the leads, sparks ignite between them. Can these
emotionally wounded risk taking adrenaline junkies have a
Adrenaline junkie Jared Livingston has found the perfect
blend of exhilaration and danger in his new job at Last
Chance Rescue. Raised to depend only on himself, Jared tried
marriage, but the end of the relationship renewed his belief
that he was meant to be a loner. Now a desperate plea from
his ex-wife puts Jared in the unique position of using the
skills she despised to rescue her missing daughter.
brings Jared face-to-face with Mia Ryker, the only agent
ever fired from LCR—for playing too far outside the box. Now
Mia’s back, and as a team, they’re as compatible as fuel and
fire—blowing off tension in each other’s arms, blowing open
the secret life of a wealthy philanthropist and his shameful
dealings. Their search for the innocent child takes them to
places neither have been before—to the edge of danger and to
the edge of their hearts.
"Livingston, where the hell are you?"
As Noah McCall's terse words rang in his earbud, Jared's
mouth twisted with a wry grimace. His boss was
pissed—not an unusual event. Couldn't do a damn thing
about that...especially right now. Standing on a six-inch
ledge twelve stories above the ground and only a few feet
from a maniac with a gun impeded his ability to answer.
Plastered against the red brick wall, his concentration
fierce, Jared focused on his destination: the half-open
window ten feet to his right. His muscles strained as he
extended his arms above him; his long fingers gripped the
small overhang as his feet inched along the ledge of the
They had been on the other side of the apartment door
for over two hours trying to talk a nutcase into freeing a
ten-year-old girl he'd snatched off the street. So far, all
they'd gotten were threats to shoot the child if they tried
to come in. Jared had gotten tired of waiting.
McCall had been in the midst of conversing with the man
when Jared had walked away. The Last Chance Rescue leader
was a good hostage negotiator, but hearing the child crying
had turned Jared's stomach. He figured he had two choices:
walk away and let the negotiations continue or do something
to speed up the process.
"Livingston," McCall snarled softly, "if you fall, I
swear I'll figure out a way to bring you back to life so I
can kill you myself."
Apparently someone had alerted his boss that Jared had
found an alternate entrance.
He was an avid climber and at least once a year, he went
somewhere—lately Mont Blanc—and fed his need.
Compared to that, hanging out on a ledge in downtown Agar
wasn't that much of a challenge. Still, even just this high
up, the air was fresher and the only creature around was a
bored-looking pigeon that had barely acknowledged him.
A heavy gust of wind slammed him hard against the wall.
His fingers tightened on the ledge. It was a good reminder
that while a twelve-story building wasn't much of a
challenge, it could still get dicey.
He inched closer to the window. Since they'd managed to
slide a mirror beneath the door, he had a good idea of what
was going on inside. The creep faced the door; his back to
the window, he held a gun to the girl's head. It seemed to
Jared that the best option for a live rescue was to come in
At the edge of the window, Jared stopped. Barely easing
his head over, he got his first real glimpse of what was
going on inside. The man, known to them only as Bernard,
stood about four feet from the window. A young girl sat on
a stool in front of the man, her thin body shuddering in
obvious terror, and with good reason—the gun was
still pressed to her head.
Jared quickly took in the rest of the room. Sofa and
chair to the left, small kitchen with a bar to the right.
No one else around. Looked like the guy was on his own for
The window was open about half a foot, with no screen,
thankfully. Shooting the bastard was a temptation, but one
Jared couldn't risk. Bernard's finger was on the trigger.
One involuntary jerk and the child was dead.
A sudden flutter of wings was Jared's only warning as a
pigeon dove toward him. As he instinctively ducked, his
left foot slipped and he slid to one knee. His right hand
latched onto the windowsill, saving him from plunging to
the ground. A cooing sounded above him; Jared glared at the
two birds sitting on the ledge. Not one whit intimidated,
they continued their pecking and ignored him.
With a firmer grip on the windowsill, Jared pushed
himself back to his feet and drew his gun from its holster.
In that instant, Bernard whirled around. Wild, bloodshot
eyes went wide as he stared at Jared. He swung his gun
around, moving it away from the girl's head. Jared had a
split second to make the decision. Without hesitation, he
took the shot. A small hole appeared in Bernard's forehead
and the man fell to the floor.
A flurry of people burst through the door. Jared slid
the window open wider and slipped inside. Medics rushed to
the girl; McCall stalked in after them. His boss's eyes
went straight to Jared, and the expression on his face
promised a future dressing down.
Jared mentally shrugged. He and McCall had a
weekly "What the hell were you thinking?" meeting. He had
gotten used to them. Sure he had a deep respect for his
boss and the work LCR performed, but Jared had told the man
up front that following rules wasn't his strong point.
McCall didn't always like Jared's methods, but he got the
He moved across the room toward the lone Agar policeman,
who also happened to be the police chief. A small town like
Agar had only a skeleton force. LCR often helped out when
small towns needed assistance. Though it had been a clean
kill, that didn't mean there wouldn't be questions. In
Jared's previous life, he'd been able to walk away with no
one even knowing about his existence, much less asking
questions. Odd how he didn't miss those old ways.
Always aware of his surroundings, he knew McCall was
bringing in the mother to console the sobbing child who'd
raced to the corner of the room the instant after the
bullet hit Bernard. In the middle of the room, LCR
operative Aidan Thorne stood over the dead man as a medic
The jaded, tired eyes of the police chief told Jared
more than any words ever could. This was a man who'd been
around the block a few times and had seen it all more than
once. He'd probably moved to Agar from a larger city,
expecting low crime and an opportunity to enjoy some peace
and quiet. Problem was, evil had no respect for boundaries.
It had a tendency to show up in the damnedest places these
In case those tired, knowing eyes had missed the
obvious, Jared gave him the information: "It was a clean
The older man nodded grimly, then proceeded to pepper
him with questions, letting Jared know that even though he
looked like he'd rather be anywhere else than here, he
planned to do his job.
As Jared answered each carefully worded question with
his own careful answers, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
To most people, that wouldn't be a big deal. Phones rang
twenty-four/seven all over the world for all kinds of
reasons. His phone didn't. He could count on one hand the
number of friends he had; and on the other, he could count
who else might need to get in touch with him. Either way,
he wasn't going to ignore them.
Holding up his hand to stop the questions, Jared pulled
his phone out and answered, "Yeah?"
"Jared?" A sobbing gasp and then: "Please...I need your
He was rarely surprised, but his ex-wife's frantic voice
asking for his help came as close as anything had in years.
With the phone pressed to his ear, he turned and walked
away for privacy. "What's wrong?"
"It's Mandy. Oh God, Jared, my baby is missing."
The fact that both McCall and Aidan had stopped what
they were doing and were staring intently at him told him
they were aware of the importance of the call. A second
later, McCall went over to the police chief. Knowing his
boss would handle any further questions, Jared headed out
the door. In the hallway, he stopped at the entrance to the
stairwell and said, "Tell me what happened."
"I went to her room this morning and she wasn't there."
"You called the police?"
"Yes, they're on the way. Carter's outside waiting for
them." She paused and then added, "Please, Jared, I'm
"I'll be there as soon as I can." He closed the phone on
her plea. Damned if he wanted to hear her beg.
He turned to find McCall behind him. "I'm headed back to
Paris. Lara's daughter has gone missing."
His boss's too sharp eyes assessed him briefly, and then
he said, "Let me know if you want us involved."
Jared gave a stiff nod of thanks and strode to the
elevator. The elevator, old and most likely unreliable,
took its own sweet time getting to the ground floor. As
soon as the doors opened, Jared took off at a run to the
motorcycle he'd parked a couple of blocks away.
As he ran through midday pedestrian traffic, he thought
about his boss's lack of questions—something he
couldn't help but appreciate. Most people wouldn't have the
same control. They would have wanted to know why Jared
cared about helping a woman who'd gone out of her way to
let everyone know she despised the man she'd once been
Most people didn't know the truth, and since it was no
one's business, he kept his mouth shut. Lara had a reason
to hate him and while the feelings he'd once had for her
were wisps of vaporous memories from another life, he owed
her his help in any way he could provide it.
He spotted his Ducati half a block away. As usual, the
cycle had attracted some admirers. Focused on getting out
of town quickly, he moved through the small crowd and,
without a word, jumped on the bike. Turning the switch, he
revved the engine and was gone.
Two hours later, Jared stood at the entrance to the
Dennison living room. Unnoticed by the occupants, he took
in the scene. Lara, Jared's ex-wife, sat in a chair close
to the fireplace. Her ash-blond hair was pulled away from
her pale face and her slender frame seemed to have shrunk
since the last time he saw her. The medium sized man
perched on the edge of an ottoman in front of her—was
her husband, Carter Dennison. They were speaking in low
soothing tones to each other and the affection in their
expressions was telling. This was a couple grieving and
finding solace in each other.
The few who knew the truth behind Jared's failed
marriage felt that Lara was at least partially responsible
for their divorce. Jared disagreed. Watching Carter and
Lara together at such a stressful moment reinforced that
opinion. For one thing, he and Lara wouldn't have had
children together. They had talked about it before they'd
gotten married. Lara was focused on her career and couldn't
take the time off; Jared hadn't seen the need to bring
another child into the world when there were so many
already here who needed good homes. Adoption had been in
the future...until that future blew up in their faces.
And secondly, if their child had been abducted, he'd be
out looking for her. Offering comfort and support wasn't
part of his skill set. He was a doer, not a giver. Ask him
to take out an evil dictator—Jared was the go-to guy.
Want a kitten rescued from a tree, he was more than happy
to oblige. Rescue a child from a crazed lunatic? Sure, he'd
be there in a flash. Open his arms and offer love and
comfort? Look to someone else because Jared would be
Lara raised her head and noticed him. The expression of
relief on her face was a surprise. Last time he'd talked to
her—the day their divorce was final—she'd
called him a monster and told him to get the hell out of
He had no hard feelings toward her. They'd had a few
decent years and when she'd found out the truth, he'd
gotten out. She'd finally gotten a glimpse of the real
Jared, hadn't liked what she'd seen and wanted him gone.
Wasn't like he hadn't been down that road before.
"Jared, thank God you're here."
Before he could speak, she jumped from her chair and
threw herself into his arms. When they'd been married, such
spontaneous outbursts of emotions had rarely happened. In
fact, the only time he'd ever seen Lara lose her composure
was when she'd learned the truth and had demanded that he
leave. Her calm, no-nonsense demeanor had been one of the
biggest reasons he'd thought they could make a go of it.
She'd seemed a lot like him. Hell, maybe that had been the
He extricated himself from his ex-wife's arms and held
out his hand to Carter Dennison. After the couple had
married, they'd moved to Paris so they could work at the
same hospital. Lara was an ER doctor; Carter was a thoracic
surgeon. Jared had seen the man only once. He had been
standing in a deli, waiting for takeout, when Lara and
Carter had walked in the door. It had been a brief and
awkward moment. Now, having a better understanding of his
ex-wife, Jared thought she and Dennison made a good pair.
"Thank you for coming, Livingston," Dennison said. "Lara
insists that you have the kind of skills that can bring our
baby girl back home to us."
Jared shot a quick glance at Lara. He had never told her
the full truth of his experience. When it had become clear
that the little information he had provided disgusted and
shocked her, he'd seen no reason to go into more detail. If
she couldn't handle the little things, she sure as hell
didn't need to know more.
Apparently thinking she needed to explain, Lara
said, "He knows you work for a rescue organization."
Her reticence to talk about her ex-husband to her
present one didn't surprise him. Lara hadn't been one to
talk that much. Another reason he'd thought they'd get
Jared nodded and jerked his head toward the couch. "Sit
down and let's get started."
The couple seated themselves on the sofa, holding hands.
Jared took a seat across from them and said, "When's the
last time you saw Mandy?"
"Last night I put her down around seven for the night.
Then she woke me at three for a bottle. I fed her and put
her back to bed. This morning, around six, I went to wake
her..." She inhaled a trembling breath and finished, "And
she wasn't there."
"Any sign of forced entry?"
Carter shook his head. "The police checked every door
and window. They took our fingerprints, and other than one
set that belongs to our housekeeper, there were no others.
No broken windows or doors."
As he took the parents through a series of questions,
Jared kept a close eye on Dennison. Though he knew Lara
well enough to be certain she would never endanger her own
child, he didn't know enough about Dennison to say the same
thing. The man's worried and grief-ravaged expression
seemed sincere, but Jared knew better than anyone how easy
it was to play a role.
"The police have any leads?"
Lara shook her head. "They're sending someone to ask
more questions this afternoon." She straightened her
shoulders, an expression of sheer determination hardening
her soft, attractive features. "I haven't told them about
you, and I don't plan to." She leaned forward. "I want my
baby girl found...no matter what you have to do, I want her
The message was clear: Do whatever it takes.
Now, that was one thing Jared knew how to do.
"I know I shouldn't have done it, but I didn't have any
money to feed her. They said they'd take good care of her."
Arms propped up on her desk, Mia Ryker leaned closer and
tried to see the truth behind Sandi Winston's lies. The
girl was pencil thin. Dark shadows beneath her eyes told of
poor sleeping habits, her pallid complexion was an
indication of bad health and her black hair, limp and
lifeless, proof of improper nutrition. She was scratching
her arms almost frantically, which could be anything from
severe dry skin or fleas to a side effect from her
Mia had seen enough addicts to know the symptoms. Sandi
said she'd given her daughter away because she couldn't
feed her. More likely, it was in exchange for her drug of
choice...whatever that was.
"When did this happen?" Mia asked.
"Two weeks ago."
"And you told the police everything?"
The flicker of her eyelids and slight dilation of her
pupils gave Mia a warning before Sandi
Mia would come back to that later. "And did these men
say where they were going to take her?"
Sandi lifted a bony shoulder in a tired shrug. "They
just said they would take her to a safe, warm place where
she'd be fed and loved."
Keeping her expression as bland and nonjudgmental as she
could, Mia asked, "How much did they pay you?"
Sandi's bloodshot eyes went wide with denial. "I
"I need to know as much as I can if I'm going to find
Sandi chewed on her dry lips, apparently trying to
decide whether Mia could be trusted or not. Allowing the
young woman time to consider, Mia reviewed her next steps.
She had contacts—unofficial avenues—the
authorities wouldn't and couldn't pursue.
If the men were new, she might have more trouble
tracking them down. But if they were some of the regular
slime that dealt in human trafficking around the city, she
should be able to locate them.
The two-week time delay was her biggest concern. The
child could be halfway around the world by now.
"When did you tell the police?"
"A couple of days after it happened. I got to thinking
maybe they weren't legit...you know?"
Yes, she did know. Most likely, Sandi had woken from her
drug-induced haze and realized what she had done. Screaming
at the young woman who thought so little of the precious
gift of a child was a temptation, but one Mia couldn't
take. Finding the little girl trumped lecturing the mother.
That didn't include not putting Sandi on a major guilt
trip, though. "Your daughter is depending on you. When a
mother brings a child into this world, she gives her a
promise that she's going to take care of her."
"But I did. I—"
Mia raised her hand to stop another lie. "If you really
want to help her, you've got to tell me the truth."
Hoping the silence would eat into Sandi's guilt, Mia
kept her mouth closed and waited. She pushed aside the need
to jump up from her desk, grab the girl by the shoulders,
and shake her until she told the truth. At one time, that's
exactly what would have happened. Experience had given Mia
wisdom and, more important, patience. Pissing people off or
scaring the hell out of them only worked sometimes, under
certain circumstances. Patience would give her much better
Mia was almost to the point of reverting to her old ways
when Sandi finally spoke: "Two thousand dollars."
Alarms went off inside Mia's head. From a human-
trafficking standpoint, two thousand wasn't a huge amount
of cash for a healthy child. But if these were local
lowlifes and they saw how desperate Sandi was, they should
have known she would have taken much less. To give her that
much made Mia think it was as much about buying Sandi's
silence as it was about purchasing her child.
She picked up her pen and began to jot notes. "Describe
them for me and how you met them."
"A friend hooked me up."
"And this friend's name would be...?"
"Arnold, Ernie...something like that."
Mia ground her teeth together, the vague answers from
Sandi putting her on edge. Again, she fought the need to
shake the girl. "Sandi, look at me."
Startled and too old eyes widened as Mia's stern voice
shook the girl from her lethargic state.
"You either give me all the information you
have...answer all of my questions—or get up and leave
with the knowledge that you'll probably never see your
daughter again. Which is it?"
Sandi released a shaky breath and said, "It was my
friend Freddy...I just didn't want to get him into trouble.
He hooks me up with the good stuff sometimes. When I told
him I didn't have any money, he told me about these men who
might be willing to help me out."
"There were two of them. They never told me their names."
"What did they look like?"
"One was real short and kind of fat. The other one had a
foreign accent, was tall and thin, and walked with a limp.
They were both kind of old."
"Old? How old?"
"I don't know...maybe forties or something like that."
Though life experience had aged her considerably, Sandi
was most likely still a teen. Forties probably was old to
"What about hair color?"
Sandi slowly began to describe the men, her descriptions
surprisingly vivid and detailed as she warmed to her task.
Flipping to a clean piece of paper, Mia sketched the men.
When Sandi stopped, Mia quickly finished her hasty drawing
and then turned the paper for the girl to see. "Did they
look anything like this?"
The gasp Sandi released told Mia she'd nailed the
drawings. Not for the first time, she was grateful for the
art classes her elite education had provided.
As Sandi suggested a few changes in the drawings, Mia
absently made them while her mind zoomed toward what she
needed to do. These men weren't any she'd seen or heard of
before. Since setting up her rescue business, she'd become
acquainted with the local slime that traded in people as if
they were marketable merchandise instead of human beings.
In some cases, she'd helped the police put the creeps away;
others continued to evade detection. But she knew most of
them by sight or reputation. These men were new.
What had they done with Sandi's one-year-old daughter?
Was the child even still in Chicago, or had she been taken
to another state already? Or another country?
"If I get your daughter back, Sandi, you're going to
have to clean yourself up and be the mother your child
deserves. You going to be able to do that?"
The emphatic nod seemed genuine, but Sandi's physical
appearance indicated that she was a longtime addict. Making
promises and not following through was as habitual to her
as the drug itself. Little did the girl know that that Mia
would make sure that either she cleaned herself up or the
child would be taken away from her. She'd do all she could
to help, but no way in hell was she going to put a kid back
into her mother's arms if she was going to be endangered or
Mia opened a drawer in her desk, withdrew a disposable
phone, and handed it to the younger woman. "I need to be
able to get in touch with you. My number is already on
speed dial. I'll call you if I have other questions, and if
you think of something else, you can get in touch with me
at any time."
The girl stood. "That's it? Is there anything else I can
"Yes. Clean up and get yourself some food. There's a
restaurant on Eighteenth Street called Maxie's. Tell them
Mia sent you. They'll feed you as many times as you need.
Do you have a place to stay?"
"I'm staying with a friend."
"Is your friend using?"
"No. She's been trying to get me clean. She's the one
who told me to come see you."
Eager to get started on the investigation, Mia stood and
walked the girl to the door. "I'll call you as soon as I
know something. And remember, if you think of anything,
call me. Okay?"
Sandi nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "Do you think
they're feeding and taking care of her?"
As much as she wanted to snarl at the girl that her
motherly concern was too little too late, she wouldn't.
Having Sandi's cooperation was imperative. Mia had learned
long ago to keep judgment out of her tone and manner.
Putting people on the defensive rarely helped a case.
However, neither would she lie. "I don't know what their
plans are for your daughter, but I promise I'll do all I
can to bring her home."
The instant Sandi cleared the door, Mia turned back to
her desk. Even with a detailed description of the men, she
had her work cut out for her.
She picked up her phone and began to make calls to the
network of people she relied on daily for help. The little
girl had been gone for over two weeks. Finding her after
such a long time was going to take everything she had, but
she refused to believe it wasn't possible.
Having overcome impossible odds before, Mia was
determined that this would be just one more challenge she
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