Do you still feel alone?
He was surprised by how much he didnt feel alone at this moment, with her hand warm on his arm and her sharp green eyes gazing straight into his soul. Not at the moment.
The air between them grew heavy and heated, as if a storm were brewing, thick with unleashed fury. The need to touch her overwhelmed him, until the only way he could quiet the thrumming in his ears was to lift his hands to cradle her face.
Her lips trembling apart, she lifted her other hand to his forearm, her fingers gripping tightly. J.D.
He kissed her before his caution could kick in to stop him. He didnt want to be the careful man, the responsible man that life and circumstance had forced him to be. He wanted to feel something again. Fire. Hunger. Excitement. Even regret. Anything besides the numbing anger, grief and guilt that had driven him for twelve long years.
Cooper Vengeance
Paula Graves
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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For Amanda and Alicia,
two of my most loyal readers, and my good friends.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alabama native Paula Graves wrote her first book, a mystery starring herself and her neighborhood friends, at the age of six. A voracious reader, Paula loves books that pair tantalizing mystery with compelling romance. When shes not reading or writing, she works as a creative director for a Birmingham advertising agency and spends time with her family and friends. She is a member of Southern Magic Romance Writers, Heart of Dixie Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America.
Paula invites readers to visit her website, www.paulagraves.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Natalie BeckerWhen her sister Carrie is murdered, Natalies sure her brother-in-law did it. But when a stranger insists the killer is really a serial murderer hes been tracking for years, will she trust her instinctsor his evidence?
J. D. CooperA widower still mourning his murdered wife twelve years after her death, hes come to Terrebonne in search of the man who killed her, the same man he believes killed Natalies sister Carrie.
Hamilton GrayNatalies brother-in-law has an alibi for the night of his wifes murder. But Natalies not so sure its as airtight as the police think.
Mike CooperJ.D.s teenaged son is in Terrebonne visiting his grandparents. But once he learns his fathers secretly in town, Mike will take any risk to find out what hes up to.
Doyle MasseyNatalies colleague in the Sheriffs Department has always given her a hard time. Is there a hidden agenda behind his sudden friendliness?
Travis RayburnThe young deputy is one of Natalies only friends on the force. But is she foolish to trust anyone with her sisters murderer still at large?
Eladio CorderoThe South American drug lord has the Coopers in his crosshairs, thanks to a blood vendetta against J.D.s brother Luke. Just how far does his reach extendall the way to Terrebonne?
Contents
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
Epilogue
Chapter One
Natalie Becker crouched beside the new headstone, her eyes dry but burning. Seeing the name etched into the marble markerCarrie Becker Grayonly amplified the anger burning a hole in Natalies chest.
You shouldnt bear his name for eternity, she thought.
She stood up, finally, glad for the shade of the ancient oak, with its outstretched limbs creating a Spanish-moss-draped-canopy for her sisters grave. July and August would be hotter, but June was nothing to laugh at here in Terrebonne, Alabama. Unless you were right on the river or the bay, there werent enough cool breezes blowing up from the Gulf to temper the sweltering heat and humidity. Even the shade offered only moderate relief from the heat and no relief at all from the mosquitoes and flies.
She batted at a large green bottle fly buzzing around her, ducking her head to one side to avoid the insects dive at her face. As she did, she caught movement in her peripheral vision.
She whipped her gaze in that direction, the fly forgotten. In the pit of her gut, she was certain shed see Hamilton Gray standing there, watching her.
She was wrong. It wasnt Hamilton. Not even close.
The dark-haired stranger standing a few yards away was a giant of a man, six foot four or taller, towering over even the larger of the granite markers surrounding him. He had broad shoulders, a massive chest, narrow hips and muscular legs. And his short, military-style haircut only amplified the aura of strength and authority.
Soldier? Maybe a cop, although being a sheriffs deputy herself, she knew most of the lawmen in this area and he definitely wasnt one of them.
Out on the access road, a horn honked, making her jump. She turned her head toward the sound, laughing a little at herself for being so tightly strung.
When she looked back at the stranger, he was gone.
She scanned the graveyard until she spotted him walking briskly toward the other side of the cemetery. His long legs had covered a surprising amount of ground in the few seconds her attention had drifted toward the sound of the horn.
Who was he?
Stop it, she admonished herself silently. Stop seeing suspects everywhere you look. You know who killed your sister.
The stranger was probably just an out-of-towner, here to visit the grave of a friend or relative. Out of curiosity, she crossed to the spot where hed stood just a few moments earlier, growing more sure with each step that shed find the explanation for his presence etched into the nearest marker.
But when she reached the marker, it was an unlikely source of enlightenment. The gravestone marked the final resting place of Mary Beth Geddie, whod died a week after birth nearly a hundred years earlier. Not exactly what shed expected to find.
She gazed toward the edge of the cemetery, where she spotted the large man walking through the front gates and straight toward a large black truck parked at the curb.
Illegally parked, she thought. She could ticket him and see who he was and what he was up to.
Her feet were moving before she finished the thought, pounding over the sun-baked ground of the graveyard. But by the time she neared the gates, the black truck was out of sight.
She skidded to a stop and bent at the waist, breathing harder than she liked. Shed let her workouts go over the past two weeks while dealing with Carries death and the aftermath. Between the piles of food the good folks of Terrebonne had brought by before the funeral and the stress-eating opportunities that were part and parcel of dealing with her parents, Natalie had probably gained five pounds in the two weeks.
She had to get control of her life. Now.
She trudged back to her sisters grave, trying to feel something besides bitter anger and guilt. I told you not to marry him, she said softly to the stone.
Im grateful she didnt listen, Hamilton Gray murmured, his voice equally soft.
Natalie whirled around to face her brother-in-law, who had stepped from behind the sheltering tree. Had he lain in wait for her? What are you doing here?
Hamiltons voice hardened in an instant. Visiting my wifes grave. His eyes narrowed, giving his lean face a feral aspect. The one I paid for, if you insist on becoming territorial.
You havent paid yet, Natalie thought, seething at his tone. As if Carrie had been an object to cherish or discard at his whim.
I know you think I had something to do with her murder, but I can assure you I did not. As can the authorities, as you well know. Hamiltons voice grew more conciliatory. Natalie, I loved your sister. She loved me. I may not like to share my feelings with the world, but they exist nonetheless.
There it was. That convincing air of sincerity he threw on and off like an overcoat. It seemed to fool everyone she knew, including her father, who prided himself on judgment and his knack for reading people. But Darden Becker had one enormous blind spotmoney. And if there was any family in South Alabama richer than the Beckers, it was the Grays.
I dont expect youll ever think of me as a friend, Natalie. Youre hard to impress and even harder to know.
Natalie tried not to bristle at his words, not because he was wrong but because he was right. She wasnt easy to impress, and now that Carrie was dead, there probably wasnt a soul in the world who really knew her at all.
Ive accepted that youll never consider me part of your family. But Id like to give you brotherly advice, nonetheless. You should start listening to your therapist.
My therapist? She knew what he was talking about; the Ridley County Sheriffs Department had decreed that she see a therapist after her sisters murder. A nice lady, Diana Sprayberry, who spoke in a soft, calm voice that reminded Natalie of her first grade teacher. Dr. Sprayberry was a big fan of the stages-of-grief theory.
Natalie was not.
She wasnt in denial. She sure as hell wasnt bargaining. And if she was stuck on anger, there was a damned good reason. A sick son of a bitch had murdered her sister and, so far, had gotten away with it.
But how in the world had Hamilton learned about her private sessions with her therapist?
Its not something that can stay secret in a town this small, he said, answering the unspoken question. I know about your sessions. I hope theyre helping.
She met Hamilton Grays gentle gaze and hated him for the contempt in his voice, masquerading as pity. But she wasnt going to stand here like some sort of movie heroine and swear to God and anyone in earshot that she was going to bring him down for killing her sister no matter what it took.
He was right when he said the authorities would affirm his innocence. He had an alibi, of sortshed made a call from his cell phone the night of Carries murder, and the cell tower signal showed hed been three counties away. On business, or so he claimed. And since the sheriffs department had no other evidence suggesting Hamilton had killed his wife, or even had a motive to do so, theyd moved on to other suspects. Thanks to her fathers business dealings, her family had plenty of enemies.
Natalie hadnt moved on, however. Even if they could prove to her satisfaction that Hamilton had been in Monroe County as hed claimed, over an hours drive from Terrebonne and outside the timeframe of Carries murder, it didnt mean he hadnt hired someone to kill his wife.
I dont understand why you think I had a motive to kill your sister. Hamiltons plaintive comment tracked so closely to Natalies thoughts that a chill skittered up her spine. He had a way of looking at her, his dark eyes so focused and piercing, that she sometimes wondered if he could read her mind.
Carrie had found his intensity exciting. Natalie had always found it disturbing.
You know why, she answered in a voice strangled with barely contained fury.
I was not having an affair.
You were always gone
On business.
You didnt pay the same amount of attention to her as before, she added. You were distant and brooding.
And Carrie was spoiled and at times needy. His tone suggested he found those traits charming rather than annoying. But honeymoons have to end sometime, Natalie. The family business requires much of my attention. I couldnt ignore it forever. His voice dropped a notch. Maybe if you ever marry, youll understand the situation better.
Her nostrils flared but she remained silent. After what hed done to her sister, if he thought insulting her ability to maintain a relationship was going to make her lose her cool, he was right about one thinghe didnt know her at all.
Hamilton extended his hand toward her. Cant we call a truce? At least for today, so we can both mourn your sister the way she deserves?
She stared at his outstretched hand, loathing him so much she could barely contain the howl of rage burning like acid in her chest. Im done here, she said. Carrie knows how I feel.
She walked away from him, forcing herself not to run, though every instinct she possessed was screaming at her to get away as fast as she could. She made it safely to her Lexus and slid behind the wheel, locking the doors. She leaned back against the sun-baked leather seat, shaking with a chaos of emotions.
Youre going to explode if you dont deal. Diana Sprayberrys gentle words drifted into her mental maelstrom. As if the therapist were physically there, methodically picking apart the tangle of Natalies emotions and moving them to their proper places, Natalie felt the tension seep away, leaving her enervated. Only the blistering heat of the cars interior drove her to insert the key in the ignition and start it up so the air conditioner could dissipate the hellish swelter inside the Lexus.
She was off duty today, but the sheriff himself had called her at home early that morning and asked her to come in for a 2:00 p.m. meeting. Natalie knew Sheriff Tatum had asked Dr. Sprayberry to give him an evaluation of her mental state, but shed been seeing the counselor for just under a week now. Surely that wasnt long enough to assess her state of mind.
As it turned out, apparently Dr. Sprayberry thought it was plenty long enough. The therapist herself was waiting in Sheriff Roy Tatums office when Natalie arrived. Dressed in a steel blue variation of her usual prim business suit, Dr. Sprayberry was perched on one of the two armchairs in front of the sheriffs wide mahogany desk when Natalie entered. She met Natalies wary gaze with a mixture of regret and steely certainty.