Shed watched them bury her partner.
They came after former FBI agent Isabel Cooper in her hotel room. Drugged and fighting for her life, she ran right into the arms of a dead man. But Ben Scanlon was very much alive, and now her life was in his hands, too.
Now he was back...and coming to her rescue.
His face was rougher and his hair longer than when theyd last met, but he still carried himself like a born Texan. Undercover with the same redneck mafia that was after her, Scanlon thought he could save Isabel without revisiting their past together. But when every step led to a trap, and every touch they shared had a consequence, he wasnt going to waste a second chanceor another bullet.
His eyes darkened as his gaze leveled with hers. I just want you safe. Its what Ive wanted from the beginning of this whole mess.
Her heart contracted. Scanlon
His head dipped. For a second, she was certain he was going to kiss her. But he froze in place, his gaze falling to rest on her parted lips. Damn it, Cooper
It was a familiar point in time, she realized. A point of no return, when the tension buzzing between them could take on a new and dangerous tenor. Theyd reached this point before, during long and harrowing cases when the whole world seemed to be spinning out of control. Moments when a little human connection provided a temptation almost too exquisite to resist.
But one of them always moved. Always backed away before they did something that couldnt be undone. She waited for the inevitable retreat, for Scanlon to pull away and rise to his feet, putting distance and cold air between them.
That moment never came.
Secret Hideout
Paula Graves
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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.
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CAST OF CHARACTERS
Isabel CooperAmbushed and drugged by masked men in the hotel where shes staying, the former FBI agent gets away with the help of her dead partners ghost. But when she wakes to find him very much alive, how far will she go to help the man who deceived her into believing he was dead?
Ben ScanlonThe bomb meant for his partner came close to killing him instead. When his boss gave him the chance to die in order to go undercover to find the backwoods bomber who targeted his partner, he took it. Will the investigation also answer his lingering questions about his fathers death?
Adam BrandThe FBI Special Agent in Charge let Isabel believe her partner died. Does he have a hidden agenda now that he wants them working together again?
Addie TolliverThe middle-aged store owner is the head of the Swain crime family now that her brother Jasper is doing life in jail. Is she as wily as her brother, or could she be the weak link that could help topple the whole family?
J. T. SwainThe mysterious new Swain seems to have links to a band of crooked mercenaries who have given Isabels family trouble before. Is the Swain family business looking to expand their criminal enterprise?
Dahlia McCoyDespite Scanlons attempt to court her to take advantage of her brothers connection to the Swains, the pretty accountant seems to be squeaky clean. But is there more to Dahlia than Scanlon thinks?
Opal ButlerJasper Swains other sister has never shown any interest in the family business. So why is she back in town and what is her agenda?
For Jenn, my critique partner, who keeps me honest and keeps me writing. Thanks for everything you do.
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
The man down the hall was definitely watching her. And given how grubby she looked at the moment, Isabel Cooper didnt think he was ogling her for the usual reasons.
Reaching for the handle of the ice machine door, she dropped her room key card on purpose, giving herself an excuse to shift position and sneak a better look at the man lurking at the end of the hall. He was lean and sandy-haired, wearing a simple black T-shirt and faded jeans. As her gaze rose toward him, he looked away. But she was certain hed been staring.
Hair prickling on the back of her neck, she scooped ice into her bucket and headed back to her room. The carpeted hallway muffled even her own footsteps, so she couldnt hear anyone moving up the hallway behind her.
But she could feel him.
Even though her room was straight ahead, she hooked a quick left into the elevator alcove. It was a dead end, but it gave her a chance to set herself for a fight.
She waited, her breath burning in her lungs.
But no one appeared around the corner.
The elevator dinged behind her, making her jump. The couple emerging from the elevator gave her a curious look. In the mirrored back of the open elevator, she caught a glimpse of her reflection, a wild-eyed brunette in a T-shirt and yoga pants, her feet stuck in a pair of fleece-lined house shoes and her unruly curls caught up in a lopsided ponytail.
The couple turned left, toward her own hotel room. She followed, darting a quick look down the hallway where shed seen the loitering man. The corridor was empty.
Isabel released a puff of air. Wasnt it time to stop looking for criminals around every corner? Six months had already passed since shed resigned from the FBI and returned home to work for her brother.
Six months since shed buried her partner and said her final goodbye to the man shed worked with for years, since she was a snot-nosed green agent fresh out of Quantico.
God, she missed him.
Trudging to her hotel room, she pushed the painful thoughts of Scanlon from her mind, thinking about the man shed seen in the hallway instead. He hadnt looked familiar. And apparently shed only imagined that hed shadowed her up the hallway.
Tucking the ice bucket under one arm, she swiped the key card in the lock and let herself inside the hotel room. The door clicked shut, engaging the automatic lock. On instinct, she engaged the safety lock as well, waiting for the prickling sensation on the back of her neck to subside. But it lingered, the tingle of a thousand spider legs dancing across her skin.
She darted to the mirrored dresser, put down the ice bucket next to her overnight case and unzipped the bag, feeling inside for her Beretta 9 mm. She shouldnt have left the room without her weapon, but there was nowhere she could hide it in her yoga pants, and she hadnt wanted to alarm the other hotel visitors.
She ran her hands around the inside of her bag one more time, her fingers moving frantically in search of the weapon.
It wasnt there.
Her heart lurched into higher gear, pounding against her breastbone, as she picked up the bag to see if it could have fallen out without her noticing.
As she moved, her gaze glanced across the mirror on the wall above the dresser. Her heart jolted as she saw a man in a black ski mask standing a few inches behind her, holding her Beretta in his gloved hand.
Terror sucked the breath from her lungs.
Looking for this? The man behind the mask spoke in a low, pronounced drawl, the unabashed rural accent of the north Alabama hills.
You can take all my money, she said, careful to sound neither too weak nor too strong. Take the gun, too. I wont give you any trouble.
The man laughed. Turn around.
She obeyed, sucking in another quick breath when she realized the man was not alone. A second man, similarly masked and clad in a dark long-sleeved T-shirt and pants, stood nearby, watching her. He didnt seem to be armed but was large enough, muscular enough, to pose a problem if she had to fight her way out of the situation.
The adrenaline coursing through her veins screamed for her to run. Catch them by surprise. But shed engaged the safety lockshed never get it open in time to make her escape.
Was that the point of the man down the hall? To spook her into taking the extra precaution?
Think, Cooper. How do you get out of this?
What do you want? she asked, her voice strained.
You dont know? The man sounded surprised.
You dont want money? she asked, though it was clear her assailants werent here for anything as ordinary as robbery.
Agent Cooper, youre too smart to play games with us.
Which answered one question, she thought. They knew who she was. Their agenda was personal, not random.
But why? She wasnt working a case of any sortshe was here in Fort Payne, Alabama, to give a talk to some mystery writers about investigative procedure. It had been months since shed worked any cases for the FBI, and she wasnt even working an open case with Cooper Security at the moment.
What would bring three armed men to her hotel room?
I dont know what you want from me, she said aloud.
The man holding the gun on her glanced toward the other man. Isabel took advantage of his brief inattention and grabbed the ice bucket off the dresser, swinging it at his gun hand. The Beretta went flying, smacking against the motel room wall.
She ran to the door, her fingers clawing at the safety latch. As it flipped open, hands circled her throat and gave a backward jerk. She choked as her windpipe began to close from the pressure, black spots forming in her vision.
Do it now! her captor growled, dragging her onto the bed. Terror eclipsed the sense of suffocation as she struggled against the hands holding her down. The pressure on her throat eased, and she sucked in a lungful of air. Her vision returned in time to see a flash of a needle descending toward her neck.
She screamed for help, fighting harder. The man whod had her gun shoved his gloved hand against her mouth, laughing as she bit at the leather. Scream again, and well kill you now.
The needle descended, pricking the side of her neck.
The men held her in place, laughing at her struggles, until she felt her lungs burning for air. The room began to spin and grow strangely out of proportion. On the wall, the bland painting of daffodils started to melt, the colors sliding down the wall to pool atop the dresser.
One of the men had moved away from her, she realized, wondering how that could be possible when it seemed as if a dozen pair of hands still held her down.
She felt powerless to move against the pressure keeping her immobile. Forcing her gaze upward, she found herself staring into a pair of piercing blue eyes.
Jasper Swain, she thought, giving a start when she realized the words had escaped her aching throat in a rasp.
The blue eyes widened.
Then they bled.
And she screamed.
* * *
THE CRY DIED QUICKLY, but he knew what hed heard. It was her. And she wasnt alone.
He flattened himself against the wall of the ice maker alcove down the hall from her room, knowing how disastrous it would be if one of the men inside caught sight of him. But he couldnt let them take her out of here.
Hed considered calling in a tip to the police, but the men in that room were dangerous, reckless men whod have little compunction about leaving a small-town cop bleeding out in a hotel corridor. The cops would be more likely to get in his way than help him get her to safety.
He closed his fingers around the Glock hidden in the pocket of his windbreaker, grimacing. He wasnt the worlds best marksman himself. But unlike local law enforcement officers, at least he knew what he was up against from the start.
How in hell did they think they were going to get her out of here? Was that even the plan anymore? Hed been damned lucky to hear about what the Swains were planning in the first place, considering how close-mouthed the people of Bolen Bluff, Alabama, could be.
Hed overheard the conversation while snooping around Tolliver Feed and Seed. Hidden in the back room, hed eavesdropped on two Swain clansmen talking cryptically about an operation the next day, something to do with a woman at a Fort Payne hotel.