Blood on Copperhead Trail (18 page)

Fear. He was afraid.

She looked up into his mossy eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He whispered the answer in her ear.

* * *

L
ANEY
’
S
FIRST
THOUGHT
had been for her sister, not for herself. Doyle
hadn’t been surprised when she’d grabbed a fistful of his sweater with her
uninjured hand and asked, “Is Jannie in danger?”

He’d assured her that they didn’t think she was. “She was
always collateral damage, and we have enough evidence against him that going
after her won’t change his situation.”

He’d offered to drive Laney home, allowing her mother to go
check on Janelle, who’d stayed with the Brandywines while her mother had gone to
the clinic to be with Laney. They were five minutes past the Bitterwood city
limits before he dropped the rest of the bomb.

“His real name is Merritt Cortland.”

Her gaze snapped up to his face. “As in Wayne Cortland?”

He told her what Bolen had revealed. “He’ll be looking to keep
all those links intact.”

“So my job at the Bitterwood P.D. has just begun,” she
murmured.

He slanted a look her way. “Looks that way.”

She pressed her lips together, looking thoughtful. “I’m not
sure I’m the person for the job anymore.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think I can be objective where you’re concerned.”

He had to keep his eyes on the road as it twisted its way to
Barrowville. “Is that good news or bad news?”

“Is that a serious question?” She sounded a little annoyed.

“I guess I mean, are you glad about it? Or does it bother
you?”

“Oh.” She sounded surprised by his question, as if it hadn’t
occurred to her that he might have doubts about her feelings or intentions.
“Glad, I suppose. I mean, I’m a little annoyed by the thought of having to hand
over the case to another investigator, but not enough to wish things were
different.”

This time he was the one who shot a look her way. “That’s
flattering. I guess.”

She grinned at him. “Just drive and I promise, when we get to
my place, I’ll flatter the hell out of you.”

She hadn’t been exaggerating. They hadn’t gotten all the way
through the front door of her bungalow before she flattened him against the
wall, her mouth slanting hard and hungry against his.

“As flattered as I am,” he murmured around her lips, “I need to
check this place for possible intruders.” He pushed her away gently and
unsheathed his recently recovered weapon while he walked around her house, room
to room, until he’d assured himself they were safely alone.

She’d locked the door behind them and was in the kitchen when
he finished his safety check, scooping coffee into a filter. “You like your
coffee strong or wimpy?”

“Strong,” he answered with a grin.

She poured a carafe of water into the machine and set the empty
pot on the burner. Coffee started trickling from the reservoir almost
immediately, filling the kitchen with a heavenly smell.

“So,” she murmured as she slid her arms around his waist,
“where were we?”

“You know, at the risk of having to turn in my man card, I have
to ask your intentions, Ms. Hanvey.”

She arched her eyebrows at him. “My intentions?”

“I mean, beyond the next hour or so,” he added as he saw the
wicked glint in her eyes. “I realize you might not have gleaned this from my
devil-may-care persona, but I have a soft and fragile heart.”

She turned her head to one side, giving him a suspicious look.
“Uh-huh.”

He gave her a serious look that wiped the hint of humor from
her expression. “I’ve never been very good at relationships. Probably why I’m
still single at my advanced age.”

“Yeah, you’re ancient.”

“I’ve never had a long-term relationship work out. I’ve barely
ever had a long-term relationship, period. And you know, I’ve been okay with
that so far.”

“Oh.” He could feel her retreating, first emotionally and then
physically, taking a step back until her spine hit the kitchen counter.

He caught her face between his hands, making her look at him.
“I’m not warning you of anything,” he said firmly. “Except I guess, maybe, I’m
warning you that if you’re looking for something temporary, I don’t think I’m
your man this time around.”

Her eyebrows notched upward again. “So what, exactly, are you
looking for?”

“Forever would be kind of nice. If we could make it work.”

She covered his hands with hers, the nubby texture of her
compression bandage tickling his wrist. “That sounds like a challenge, Chief
Massey.”

“And you like a challenge?”

She rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his ear. “I
love a challenge.”

* * * * *

Don’t miss the next two books in award-winning author Paula
Graves’s miniseries
BITTERWOOD P.D.,
on sale in March and April 2014.
Look for them wherever
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Keep reading for an excerpt from UNDERCOVER CAPTOR by Cynthia
Eden.

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Chapter One

“You’re making a mistake!” Dr. Tina Jamison shouted as
she was hauled out of the nondescript brown van and pushed into the dimly lit
parking garage.

But the four men—all wearing black ski masks—didn’t seem to
care that they’d grabbed the wrong woman.

And they
had
gotten the wrong
person. They must have made some kind of mistake. There was no way these armed
gunmen could actually want
her.

The man on the right jabbed his gun into her back. “Move!”

When someone shoved a gun at her, Tina knew exactly what to do.
Move.
Just as the man had ordered.
But Tina was scared and she stumbled, nearly slamming
face-first into the cement as she hurried to follow the guy’s order.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be
happening.

She’d been safe in her hotel room less than an hour ago.
Sleeping. Minding her business.

She’d woken to find a man leaning over her. His hand had
flattened over her mouth before she could scream. Then he’d put a gun to her
head and told her that if she wanted to live, she’d follow his orders.

Tina wanted to keep living.

One of the men pushed open the stairwell door. Then the gun was
poking into her back once more. Tina got the message loud and clear, and she
started double-timing it up those concrete stairs.

Why? Why have they taken me?
“Look,
you’ve got the wrong girl.” She tried telling them this fact for what had to be
the fiftieth time. They needed to see reason and listen to her. “I’m a doctor,
okay? Just a doctor who—”

“We know exactly who you are,” the man with the gun replied in
a hard, lethal voice. “And we know just what Mercer will pay to get you
back.”

Her blood iced as Tina grabbed for the stair railing.
Mercer.
Oh, no. With the mention of Bruce
Mercer’s name, the situation went from bad to unbelievably, terribly worse.
Because Bruce Mercer was the director of a covert group of agents who conducted
secret missions for the United States’ government. Bruce Mercer operated the
EOD, the Elite Operations Division.

Bruce Mercer was also her boss.

But I’m not an agent! I’m a doctor! The
one who patches up the wounded after a battle.

Because Tina had learned long ago that she didn’t mix so well
with danger.

Her heart was about to gallop out of her chest right then and,
taking a breath— Oh, yes, it was hard. Painful. She was very afraid that she
might be about to hyperventilate. Her breath sure seemed to be wheezing out with
each frantic exhale.

“Can you...” Tina huffed. “Move the gun?” If the guy stumbled,
that gun could accidentally discharge. She knew firsthand the kind of severe
damage a shot to the spine would do to a victim.

“No, I can’t.” The gun jabbed harder into her.

“Look, I—I...” She tried to suck in air.
Don’t panic. Don’t.
“I’m not who you think I am!” She wasn’t an EOD
agent. If these men were taking her because they mistakenly thought that she had
some kind of classified information she could give to them, they were dead
wrong. She didn’t have the clearance level needed to access that sort of
intel.

“We know you’re not an agent,” the man snapped. “Now keep
climbing.
Faster.”

She climbed until her legs burned. Flight after flight. Finally
a door opened above her. The scent of fresh air and the mighty Mississippi River
teased her nose as Tina was led outside.

Stars glittered overhead. Glancing around, she realized they
were on a rooftop. And...and she could hear the
whoop-whoop-whoop
of an approaching helicopter.

This is so not good.
As if masked
men with guns could be good. But any group that came equipped with their own
helicopter sure equaled a whole world of trouble in her book.

Fear had Tina shaking, but she made herself turn to face the
gunman. “I-if you know I’m not an agent...” She had to raise her voice, nearly
shouting, to be heard over the helicopter’s approach. The wind from its blades
blew against her, and she trembled. “If you know that, then let me go! I’m of no
use to you.”

The masked man—the fellow had to be the leader because no one
else had done any talking—shook his head. “Mercer’s daughter is going to be
plenty of use to us.”

Mercer’s daughter?
Tina’s eyes
widened. Definitely the wrong person. “I’m not his daughter!”

A rough, twisted bark of laughter escaped from the gunman.
“Sure you aren’t, sweetheart.” A Texas accent. She could just hear it slip
around his words. “That’s why Mercer pays for your apartment in D.C. and why he
sprung for the fancy hotel here in New Orleans. Why he’s been paying your bills
for years.” More laughter. “At first, I thought you might be his lover, and that
connection would have been just as useful to me.”

The helicopter circled around to land. Her abductors had given
her time to dress—a humiliating task since they’d watched her every move. The
wind from the landing helicopter made her T-shirt cling tightly to her chest and
it tossed her hair wildly around her face.

“Then I got intel that revealed your true identity.” He let the
gun trail over her cheek. If she
had
been an agent,
Tina would have done something incredibly cool right then. Such as wrestle the
gun from him or give him a sharp right hook.

Then take
all
of these jerks
out.

But she wasn’t an agent. She knew how to heal, not how to
hurt.

“You’ve been the one constant in Mercer’s life since you got
out of med school. You’re that constant because you’re Bruce Mercer’s daughter.
The daughter he tried to hide after your mother was killed in that attack in
France.”

She swallowed. The fact that she’d been born in France was
really going to work against her here.

“Of course, if you’re not his daughter, you can just prove that
to me.”

The gun was still at her cheek.

The helicopter’s blades had stopped.

“Prove who you really are,” the man in the mask murmured. There
were slits over his eyes so that he could see out, but the rest of his face was
concealed. All she knew was that the guy was big, with narrow shoulders and
hips, and that his words carried a slight Texas accent. She couldn’t physically
identify
any
of the men who had taken her.

“Are we ready?” another voice called out as heavy footsteps
approached from behind her. This voice didn’t hold a Texas accent. This one just
sounded bored.

It also sounded familiar.

Tina felt her cheeks turn ice-cold, then they burned red
hot.

Those footsteps kept approaching. “Yeah, we got our package,”
the gunman said with a quick nod. “Though she’s been whining the whole time
about us having the wrong woman.”

The weapon finally left her cheek. Moving slowly, carefully,
because she sure didn’t want to set anyone off, Tina turned to face the man. The
helicopter waited behind him, perched perfectly in place.

There was a ski mask over this man’s face, too. Slits for his
eyes, a hole for his mouth. As the others, he was also dressed in black from
head to toe.

But she
knew
him; knew those broad
shoulders, the tall, tough build. He towered over the other men by several
inches and he walked with a slow, stalking grace.

Relief swept through her and Tina felt dizzy.
Drew Lancaster.

“If she’s been talking so much...” his familiar voice rolled
over her, edged with a Mississippi drawl, “then maybe you should have just
gagged her.”

Wait. W
hat?
Tina’s eyes widened in
horror. That wasn’t what Drew was supposed to say. Drew wasn’t a criminal. He
was a good guy. He was a federal agent with the EOD.

He moved behind her, and put his hand over her mouth. “See?”
Drew murmured. “Easy enough to stop her from talking.”

She nearly bit him.

But Drew bent and put his mouth right next to her ear. “Stay
calm.”
A bare whisper. One Tina wasn’t even sure
she hadn’t imagined. But she’d felt the warm rush of his breath against her ear
and a shiver slid through her body.

Drew kept his hand over her mouth as his head lifted a few
inches. His eyes glittered down at her. She knew those eyes were golden, the
color of a jungle cat that she’d seen once in the D.C. zoo.

Drew had always reminded her of that great cat. Because he was
wild and dangerous, and he’d scared her, on an instinctive level, from the first
moment they’d met.

“I didn’t realize our cargo tonight was a woman,” Drew charged
as he glanced over at the lead gunman. “Maybe next time, you should clue me in
on that.”

The guy grunted. “Need-to-know basis, Stone. Need to know.”
Then he jerked his thumb toward the chopper. “Now are you ready to get us out of
here?”

Stone.
Her lips pressed against
Drew’s palm. She hadn’t seen him in two months. Not since he’d left for his last
mission.

Drew shifted his body and glanced down at her. This time, Tina
could see past her fear and she easily read the hard warning in his eyes.

Drew was undercover. These men—they knew him as someone named
Stone.

And something else that Tina realized... Drew wasn’t about to
blow his cover.

Not for her.

Her shoulders slumped. Things were going to get even worse
before they got better.

“I’m ready,” Drew said. He dropped his hand and backed away
from her.

The gun was jabbed into her back once more. She didn’t tense
this time.

But Drew did. “Is that necessary?” The words seemed
gritted.

“Yeah, it is. Now get that bird off the ground!”

Drew’s gaze dropped to the gun then his stare slid back to
Tina. She knew that she had to look terrified.

Because she was.

“Do you seriously think she’s going to get away?” Drew glanced
around the rooftop. “No one’s up here but us.”

The gun didn’t move.

“Her hands are tied. She’s not going any place.” Drew exhaled.
“And I don’t see—”

“She’s Bruce Mercer’s daughter!” the gunman snarled. “You think
he didn’t train her? Until we’re clear, I’m keeping my weapon on her.”

Drew blinked. “Bruce Mercer’s daughter,” he repeated softly,
considering the information it appeared.

No, I’m not!

But did Drew know that?

“I guess that changes things,” Drew said. Then he turned away
and hurried back to the chopper without even a second glance. In seconds, all of
the men had climbed in behind him and Tina found herself secured in the
backseat.

The blades were spinning again, matching the frantic beat of
her heart, and the helicopter rose high into the air.

* * *

H
IS
COVER
WAS
about to be blown to
hell and back.

Drew Lancaster slowly lowered the chopper onto the landing pad.
His jaw was locked tight, his hands held the controls securely and rage beat at
his insides.

Tina Jamison.

When he’d landed the bird on that roof, the pretty little
doctor had sure been the last person he’d expected to see. But she’d spun toward
him, her eyes wide and desperate behind the lenses of her glasses, and he’d
realized that he was in some serious trouble.

She’d known who he was. Without even seeing his face, Tina had
known. Maybe his voice had given him away. He hadn’t bothered to change accents
with this particular group. He’d just wanted them to think he was a
slow-talking, ex-soldier from Mississippi. A man with a grudge against the
government. A man willing to do just about anything for cash.

Tina’s face had lit with hope when she’d seen him. Such a
beautiful face it was, too. He’d found himself admiring it more and more during
his visits to the doc at the main EOD office. She’d been all business, of
course, checking his vitals, talking to him about stress in the field.

He’d been imagining her naked.

Before the blades had stopped spinning, Lee Slater was already
out of the chopper and dragging Tina with him. The jerk still had that gun far
too close to her for Drew’s peace of mind.

How am I supposed to get her out of
here?

With narrowed eyes, Drew watched Tina and Lee vanish into the
main house. More armed men followed them inside.

They were in the middle of Texas, at a dot on the map that most
folks would never find. It wasn’t as if the cops were just going to rush in and
rescue the kidnapped woman.

He was deep undercover. Working under the alias of Stone Creed.
The men here—they were looking to cause as much chaos on U.S. soil as they
possibly could. They were into drugs, into weapons and into wrecking the
political powers that be.

And, in particular, it seemed that the men were looking to take
out the EOD. Or, more specifically, they wanted to destroy Bruce Mercer.

Drew climbed from the chopper and checked his own gun.

“Can you believe it?” the excited voice asked from behind
him.

Drew looked back just as Carl Monroe yanked off his ski mask.
Yeah, that mask wasn’t exactly necessary anymore. Not since they were back on
their own turf. They didn’t have to worry about unwanted eyes seeing them
here.

Carl grinned. “We got the EOD director’s daughter!”

No, they hadn’t. Drew swallowed. Bruce Mercer did have a
daughter, all right, but that daughter wasn’t Tina Jamison.

What would happen when the men realized that they’d taken the
wrong woman?

She will become a dead woman.

He couldn’t let that happen. He’d been sent in to gather intel
on this group, to determine just how much of a threat the individuals known as
HAVOC posed—and, once his assessment had been made, his team was supposed to
eliminate that threat.