I thought it was just a little bump.
It is. Its just a bloody one. He applied some antibiotic ointment to the small scrape, trying to ignore the way her soft, lightly floral perfume was making his blood run hot.
Hed never been a man prone to indulging his every sexual whim, but this particular dose of desire was taking a toll on his legendary self-control.
He backed away, giving himself room to breathe. I think the bleedings stopped now.
She turned to face him. Thanks.
Something intriguing glittered in her eyes. Nix knew it would be folly to speculate what that intriguing something might be. But hed never been any good at turning his back on a puzzle. Especially one that smelled like wildflowers.
The Secret of
Cherokee Cove
Paula Graves
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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.
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
SIGN ME UP!
Or simply visit
signup.millsandboon.co.uk
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
For my #1k1hr pals on Twitter.
Yall make writing on deadline fun.
Okay, maybe not fun, but definitely bearable.
Keep #writing!
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
Excerpt
Chapter One
She entered the Bitterwood Community Center banquet hall with no fanfare, a tall, fit woman in her early thirties. Fanfare or not, Walker Nix found his gaze drawn her way, taking in her appearance with the practiced eye of an investigator. She had sleek auburn hair worn straight and intelligent green eyes that scanned the room with a specific goal in mind, narrowing as she failed to find her target.
I should paint her, he thought. She wasnt pretty, exactly, but he found her striking features interesting.
Conversation died to nothing as most of the partygoers turned to look at the newcomer. Laney Hanvey, standing near the front of the hall with her mother and sister, crossed quickly to the woman, a smile on her face. She passed Walker, leaving him with a whiff of her light jasmine scent, and extended her hand to the taller woman. Dana. You look just like your photo. Its so nice to finally meet you!
Chiefs sister, Nix thought, his interest tempered by the impracticality of lusting after a woman whose brother was his boss. Her impending arrival had been the talk of the police station from the time the chief had mentioned to one of the file clerks that she was coming. Shed be in town only a few days, just long enough to get to know her brothers fiancée and catch up on their lives, before heading back to her job in Atlanta.
Still, his gaze lingered on Dana Masseys face as she smiled at Laney and took her hand with what appeared to be genuine pleasure. She really would be a fascinating subject to paint.
Im so happy to finally meet you, Laney! Dana maintained eye contact as if oblivious to the interested stares of everyone else in the room. Nix dragged his gaze away from the meeting of the future sisters-in-law and let it skim across the other faces in the hall. To his surprise, he saw several looks of shock and one or two expressions of near hostility.
Odd, he thought. As far as he knew, this was Dana Masseys first visit to Bitterwood. And what little hed heard about her wouldnt elicit hostility from anyone but the fugitives she chased in her job as a deputy U.S. marshal.
Doyle is late, Laney was saying as she and Dana passed Nixs position near the doorway. I tried calling his phone, but hes not answering.
Hes probably lost it somewhere, Dana murmured in the tone of a sister used to her younger brothers foibles. He loses a phone every year, I swear.
They passed out of earshot, and Nix made himself look at his watch, not Dana Masseys shapely backside. Almost eight. The party had officially started at seven-thirty. And while Bitterwood chief of police Doyle Massey had a reputation for being a bit more laid-back than his predecessor, hed never shown a tendency toward tardiness.
Nix bumped gazes with one of his fellow detectives, small, dark-eyed Ivy Calhoun. She was newly married, tanned golden from her recent honeymoon in the Bahamas and looking happier than hed ever seen her. She flashed a smile at him, and he wandered over to where she stood with her new husband, Sutton Calhoun.
Nix. Sutton greeted him with a nod. They were both Bitterwood natives, but Sutton was a few years younger than Nix. He was better acquainted with Nixs younger brother, Lavelle, which might explain the wariness in Suttons gaze. Lavelle had never been anything but trouble.
Calhoun, Nix responded in kind, saving his smile for Suttons bride. Have you heard from the chief?
Ivy shook her head. Laney said he told her he had to pick up something from the office before he came to the party. But that was nearly an hour ago.
It didnt take an hour to get anywhere in Bitterwood. Have you tried calling the station to see if he showed up?
Ivy cocked her head slightly to one side, her gaze narrowing. You think somethings wrong?
One of your hunches? Sutton added, not without a hint of sarcasm.
No, Nix lied, even though his hunch meter was going off like a klaxon. Just doesnt seem much like the chief to keep his girl waiting.
Is that his sister? Ivy nodded toward Dana Massey, who stood at the front talking to Laney and her family.
Yes, Nix answered. She didnt seem worried about her brothers lateness.
Sutton took a sip from the cup of red punch he held in his right hand. With a grimace, he set the cup on a nearby table. Maybe she knows stuff about him we dont.
Maybe, Nix conceded.
But you dont think so, Ivy prodded.
He gave her a warning look, but her eyebrows merely rose a notch and her dark eyes flashed with amusement.
She thought it was all great fun, having a genuine Cherokee soothsayer on the police force, and most of the time Nix didnt try to squelch her enjoyment. He wasnt a soothsayer, of coursehis hunches were usually based on deduction, not intuition. And he was only part Cherokee. The rest was pure Appalachian Scots-Irish, as his brother Lavelles headstrong ways would attest. But playing the inscrutable Indian could have its advantages, especially during interrogations.
Ill give the station a call, see whats what. He wandered away and pulled out his cell phone to call the main switchboard.
The night shift dispatcher, Briar Blackwood, answered, Bitterwood P.D.
Hey, Briar, its Nix. Have you seen the chief?
He called about seven to say he was heading in to pick something up from his office, but he didnt show. I figured he might have been running late and decided to come by after the party.
Nix frowned. Yeah, thats probably it.
Whats wrong? Briar asked.
Probably nothing.
Nix
Later, Briar. He hung up before she could ask any more questions he couldnt answer and crossed back to where Ivy and Sutton stood, talking to a tall redhead and an even taller man with dark hair and a rangy but powerful build.
Ivy introduced the pair as Natalie and J. D. Cooper, friends of the chiefs. Natalie used to work with the chief down South, Ivy added as Nix shook hands.
Natalie smiled, but he saw concern hovering behind her green eyes. Ivy says Doyles late. Doyles never late. He may come across as an overgrown frat boy sometimes, but hes as dependable as they come.
Her alarm exacerbated his own growing concern. Keeping his voice low, he told them about his call to the station. That was an hour ago.
Ivy looked from Natalies face back to Nixs. Should we go look for him?
Ill do it, Nix volunteered. You stay here and make sure Laney doesnt start worrying too much until we know whats what.
Unspoken between them was the fact that there might well be a damned good reason to worry. Only three months earlier, Doyle Massey had crossed swords with a man named Merritt Cortland, whose thirst for power had led him to kill his father and several others in a deadly explosion. Hed tried to make the chief another of his victims, but Massey had fought him off. After Cortland had fallen down a steep incline, landing on the rocks below, hed been thought dead, but by the time paramedics arrived at the base of the bluff, his body was gone.
Was Merritt Cortland still alive? It was a question that nobody had been able to answer to anyones satisfaction. Nix figured it was possible the mans injuries werent fatal as the chief had assumed. It was equally possible that one of Cortlands ragtag cohort of meth cookers, anarchists and radical militia soldiers had recovered the body and was keeping it on ice in order to keep the legend alive.
Under Merritt Cortlands father, Wayne, the criminal operation had flourished, and even Cortland the younger had somehow managed to keep the enterprise afloat, despite the disparate elements involved. But if Merritt Cortland was dead, how long would the conspiracy thrive?
Outside the community center, night had fallen deep and blue. After a mild day, the temperature had dropped into the forties, driving Nix deeper into his leather jacket. As he started down the concrete steps to the sidewalk, the door opened behind him and footsteps clicked across the hard surface.
Are you going to look for Doyle?
The low female voice rippled along his nerves as if shed run a finger down his spine. He turned to find Dana Massey standing on the steps behind him, her intelligent eyes full of stubborn intent.
Lying would do no good. She seemed like the kind of woman who never asked a question if she didnt already know the answer. I thought Id see whats keeping him.
How late is he?
Party started at seven-thirty, so
When was the last time anyone heard from him? She walked down the steps until she stood level with Nix, her head only a couple of inches below his own. She was as tall as her brother and had the same sort of dynamic presence, though the chiefs aura of command was often tempered by his good-natured humor.
There was no humor in Dana Masseys green eyes at the moment.
He called the police station around seven and told the dispatcher he was going to drop by the office before the party to pick up something.
Pick up what?
Dont know.
Her lips flattened with annoyance, though her irritation didnt seem to be directed toward him. Was he at home when he called?
Dont know that, either, he admitted. He should have asked the question of Briar, though the chief might not have said where he was. Im working on that assumption.
To her credit, she didnt make the usual joke about assumptions. Hes not answering his phone.
So I hear.
She extended her hand suddenly, as if shed just remembered they hadnt met. Dana Massey. The chiefs sister.
Walker Nix. The chiefs detective.
Her lips curved slightly at his dry rejoinder as she shook his hand. She had a firm, dry grip, with long fingers that felt like warm velvet against his own. So I heard. Mind if I tag along?
He could still feel the lingering sensation of her skin against his when he dropped her hand. Wouldnt you rather stick around the party?
She shook her head. Im here for my brother. Wherever he is.
He nodded toward the sidewalk. Bundle up. My heaters acting up.
* * *
DANA EYED THE rusty-looking Ford pickup truck parked a block down Main Street from the community center, then shifted her gaze back to the tall, dark-eyed man who seemed to be watching her for her reaction. She got the feeling this moment was some sort of test, but damned if she knew what the right answer might be.
Nice wheels, she murmured.
The right corner of his mouth quirked upward. Thanks. He opened the passenger door without producing a key.