Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors

by Sharon Hamilton

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  John stood outside Alan’s hospital room and watched as Katelyn raised a straw to her father’s lips. He couldn’t help but admire her emotional strength, even if she was turning out to be a stubborn thorn in his side.

  It wasn’t easy seeing Alan in this condition. His legs were swollen to the point where he couldn’t move them. His face was sallow and his eyes yellow with jaundice. It had to have been a huge shock for her to see him like this. It had been a huge shock to John, and he’d seen the changes happening slowly as the man he thought of as a second father of sorts drank himself to death after his “forced” retirement.

  Alan had always drank a little more than one might think acceptable, but he kept it under control. He was never drunk on the job, and his officers had always been able to rely on him. But, the drinking got much worse when Alan retired. At that point, John had found him drinking at all times of the day and night. John knew why Alan drank. He had never found his wife’s killer. After twenty-four years, the man who’d beaten Caroline Bowden to death in an apparent robbery was still walking free. That was enough to make any man want to disappear in the bottom of a bottle.

  Every six months, John and Alan still poured through the scant box of evidence collected at the scene, and John had a feeling Alan looked through the box more often when he was alone. They talked theory and chased any leads that arose, though those were few and far between. Through the years, very little had turned up to point them toward the killer.

  As John watched, Alan began talking to Katelyn, but it was quickly clear he was speaking to a ghost, not to his daughter.

  “I should have left with her, Caroline. I should have taken Katelyn and run after what she saw, but I couldn’t trust anyone else to find your killer. I thought I’d find out who hurt you and bring our baby girl home, but the years went on and the only way to keep her safe was to keep her away. I failed you both, Caroline,” Alan said, as he gazed with unfocused eyes at Katelyn.

  Katelyn stilled for a split second, then patted her father’s hand. John didn’t recover nearly as quickly. He was frozen in place as he realized what Alan had said. It took him a minute, but he shook off his surprise and stepped into the room.

  “What did Katelyn see, Alan?” he asked quietly, hoping he didn’t break the spell Alan seemed to be under, hoping he would say more.

  The startled look on his old boss’s face told John he wouldn’t be getting anything more out of Alan today. “What are you doing here, John? I told you to get on down to the Millers’ and take care of that damn dog that keeps getting out. You tell Miller if he can’t keep that dog on a chain or behind a fence, I’m gonna have to start fining him.”

  Alan turned to his daughter. “Mr. Miller’s dog gets into Mrs. Cobb’s garden and digs up her flowers and she calls us to complain. I’ve sent deputies out there three times already this week.”

  John wasn’t sure if Alan was seeing Katelyn or still talking to Caroline’s ghost. He clearly thought John was still his deputy and he was the current sheriff. In fact, the dog he was talking about had died two years ago. That hadn’t stopped the feud between Mr. Miller and Mrs. Cobb. John was pretty sure Miller had buried bones in Mrs. Cobb’s garden to teach his new puppy to dig there as well. Either that, or the new puppy was channeling the old dog’s ghost. John and his deputies spent as much time as Alan had out there refereeing the two neighbors.

  “Alan, a minute ago, you said Katelyn had seen something. Do you remember what she saw?” John tried again.

  This time it was Katelyn who cut the questioning off. “Can I speak with you in the hallway, John?”

  He ground his teeth together and swallowed a sigh. With a tight smile at Katelyn, he said his goodbyes to Alan, even though he’d only just arrived.

  “I’ll stop by again tomorrow.” John followed her out to the hallway, but he didn’t give her a chance to talk. He knew she’d railroad him if he didn’t press her first.

  “Kate, has he ever said anything to you like that before?”

  John could see her annoyance etched clearly on her face. She was stunning with her long blond hair and fiery eyes, but she could erase the beauty from her features with one of those pinched looks of hers so easily it was almost amusing. Almost.

  “I don’t know what he was talking about, John, but you shouldn’t be pushing him right now. He needs to be resting and staying calm, not getting worked up about some nonsense rambling,” she said.

  “Nonsense rambling? Are you nuts, Kate?” John flung his arm toward the room where his mentor lay. “Do you know why he’s lying in that bed? Why he drank himself close to death?” John heard her gasp, but didn’t stop. She didn’t understand what it was like to chase hopeless leads for so many years with no chance of bringing her mother’s killer to justice.

  “He’s had virtually nothing to go on in your mother’s case for years, Katelyn. No way to find out who killed her,” he spit out. “If there’s even a small chance you witnessed something and he’s been hiding that all these years, we need to know that. I need to know that.”

  John pushed aside the sick feeling in the pit of his gut at the thought that Alan had lied to him. That Alan hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him such a crucial piece of information all these years. He couldn’t deal with that right now.

  “I didn’t see anything. I wasn’t there.” Katelyn crossed her arms over her chest, a move he was beginning to recognize as her cue she was finished talking to him. Not this time. He wasn’t finished. He stepped closer, towering over her with a look that would have sent most of his deputies scattering in the wind. Not Katelyn. She glared back, arms crossed, eyes ablaze.

  “You would have been, what? Four years old, Katelyn? You can’t be sure you didn’t see anything. Maybe this is the reason your father sent you away. Haven’t you wondered why he’s kept you away?” John knew it was the wrong thing to say the minute he said it, the minute he saw her face.

  “I’m sorry, Katelyn. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” John said, then watched as she transformed the hurt back to anger in a heartbeat.

  “Really, John? You think I didn’t spend my childhood wanting to know why my father sent me away? You think I need you to solve that little mystery for me? To swoop in and dig and push and get your way no matter the cost to anyone? There are no answers here, John. You can look and poke and prod into my life and his life all you want and it won’t lead anywhere. I didn’t see anything, John. I wasn’t there,” she said.

  John shook his head. Until now, John might have believed her. He might have bought her denial and walked away. But, what Katelyn just did gave away a twenty-four-year-old secret. His hands rested on his hips as he leaned down to look her in the eye.

  “You see that? What you just did there? You said the exact same thing. ‘I didn’t see anything. I wasn’t there.’ You phrased it the exact same way twice. That’s what happens when a line is either rehearsed, or it’s been fed to you. Did your aunt and father feed you that line so many times when you were little, that now you believe it? Or did you come up with that little lie all by yourself?”

  John should have seen the slap coming, but didn’t. As with most things revolving around Katelyn Bowden, he was completely caught off guard. It resounded through the hallways with stinging sureness. She meant to hit him hard and she did. And before he knew it, she was gone. John rubbed the side of his face as he watched the door to Alan’s room swing shut behind her.

  He hated to upset her, but Katelyn couldn’t possibly understand what was at stake. He finally had a lead in the only unsolved murder in his county; in the one murder his mentor had never been able to solve. John knew if he could just get her to remember what she saw, he could solve her mother’s murder before Alan Bowden lost his life. John turned and walked down the hall, feeling hopeful about something for the first time since Alan had been rushed to the hospital four days ago.

  Everlasting: Chapter Three

  Katelyn walked through the center of town and
wondered if she truly could be happy here. In some ways, it was probably foolish for her to move back to Evers now. The doctors said her father didn’t have long—six months if they were really lucky, but most likely it would be less than that—and Katelyn really didn’t have any other connections in town. Everything was so different than what she was used to in Austin. In Austin, she lived in a small condo right downtown. She could walk to an endless array of restaurants and shops. She could listen to live music or go to shows with friends.

  Friends. The same friends who hadn’t told her she was dating a married man. The humiliation she’d felt at having fallen for a married man, having been fooled when she should have seen red flags, twisted in her stomach. She should have known there were reasons he never wanted to go out, but Katelyn never really pushed to go out either. She was a homebody. She’d been happy holing up in her condo when they got together. And he hadn’t worn a ring or had any tan line from a ring. But, the fact that her friends never told her, never once questioned her actions…. Katelyn shook her head at herself. That hurt much worse than the pain of the breakup with Devan. No, she really didn’t want to be in Austin right now.

  And, for some reason, coming to Evers just seemed like the right thing to do. Maybe some small part of her was hoping her father would beat the odds and live longer than the disheartening prediction from the doctors. If she were really honest with herself, she was probably trying to connect with her father through the town. Maybe after his death she’d find a way to keep him with her by keeping the town in her life.

  She walked past T-Bob’s Barbeque. Rumor was, Tiny Bob—who naturally was anything but tiny— loved barbeque so much, he’d opened the restaurant just so he could eat barbeque all day. Tiny could usually be found sitting at one of the picnic tables outside the restaurant eating pork ribs or jalapeño sausages and buckets of creamed corn or red potatoes dripping in butter.

  On the other side of the street was the post office, followed by a large building that had several functions. The county courthouse that served Evers and many of the surrounding towns as well sat in the center of the building. The fire station connected to one side of the courthouse, while the sheriff’s office seemed to grow off the other, as if it had sprung up one day when space was needed rather than being a part of the original building. The rest of that block was filled out with Marshall’s Run-On-In convenience store and the First United Methodist Church.

  Katelyn lowered her head as she walked past the sheriff’s office. She wasn’t ready to see John. If she did, she’d need to apologize for that slap the other day and she wasn’t ready to offer an apology just yet.

  After six days in town, word had gotten around that Katelyn was back, and she was greeted with smiles and waves from many people, and curious looks from others. It felt as though some people were happy she was there, while others seemed to want to get a look at the girl whose father didn’t want her. She was apparently a legend in this town. Although, there was a thin line between legend and freak show. As she walked through town now, she felt more like a spectacle on parade than anything else.

  But, she’d been here almost a week. She needed to find studio space. Katelyn headed past Jensen’s Feed Supply where several white-bearded men eyed her with suspicion as they chewed their tobacco on the front steps. She continued down to the end of town that housed several local artists and the Two Sisters Diner. Eight years ago, a well-known painter of landscapes moved to town and opened a studio and gallery that brought some traffic due to the prominence of his name. Another painter followed and opened his studio two doors down. By the time a quilt maker and weaver joined the group, the town had begun to make a name for itself as a spot for a day trip to visit the galleries and studios on Saturday afternoons. Katelyn hoped to find space to put her studio in the same area.

  The buildings in this part of downtown were as old as the others, but each had a porch with rocking chairs and hanging plants. It had a charm to it, and she could almost see the gentrification happening before her eyes.

  She pressed her nose up against the window of a building that sat across from the diner to see what kind of shape it was in. It was a corner building, with a small side street on one side and the painter’s gallery on the other. There was a phone number on the For Lease sign out front, but she wanted to have an idea of what the space was like inside before she called anyone.

  “Casing the joint?” came a voice so close to her ear, she could feel the breath on the back of her neck.

  Katelyn jumped and spun around to find John Davies’ smiling eyes and dimples laughing at her. He reached out a hand to steady her, but the effect of his large, warm hand on her was anything but steadying. Katelyn narrowed her eyes in annoyance at him. And, at herself. Why would she have that kind of response to John, of all people?

  And with that, despite all her good intentions of eventually apologizing for slapping him the other day, Katelyn found herself yelling at him once again.

  “You scared the wits out of me, John!” she said. “What are you thinking?”

  His laugh was deep and rich, and he didn’t seem to be holding the least bit of a grudge against her for their argument the other day.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. You looked like you might try to find an open window any minute there,” he said.

  Katelyn felt her cheeks flame. She had been thinking about looking for an open window.

  “Don’t worry, Katelyn. Your Uncle Charlie owns the building,” John said.

  Katelyn hoped he didn’t see her flinch at the mention of her ‘uncle.’ Charlie Hanford was not only the area’s biggest commercial property developer, he was also her father’s best friend and had, at one time, been her mother’s boss. While he seemed like a very nice man, it always felt weird when people referred to him as her uncle. She’d only seen the man on an annual basis, if even that, when she was young. Lately, she hadn’t even seen him annually. It had probably been five years since she’d last run into him.

  But, before she could object, John was on the phone with Charlie, telling him to come on over and show her the building. She sighed on the inside. This was one of the things that drove her nuts about John. He always acted like she needed his help, like she needed someone to take care of her. She was perfectly capable of calling Charlie and asking him about the building when she was ready to see it.

  John disconnected the call and grinned at her.

  Has he always had dimples?

  John was tall, and had a ruggedness to him that was attractive. Oh, let’s face it, it was beyond attractive. The man most likely had women swooning over him left and right. Tanned skin and dark eyes, with a smile that would make her want to throw herself at him if he were anyone other than who he was. Grown men shouldn’t be allowed to have dimples.

  And his body. Well, of course, that was honed to perfection with arms that just made a girl want to scream “hold me!” If she were so inclined. Which Katelyn wasn’t. Not in the least.

  “He and Sam are coming over. I’ll wait with you,” John said cheerfully as he leaned against the railing and stuck one booted foot on an empty barrel that sat in the corner of the porch.

  “Great,” Katelyn said, not trying to hide her sarcasm. The man apparently didn’t hear it. Either that or he chose to completely ignore it.

  “You know Sam Denton, right? He’s been your uncle’s foreman for years.” John took out a stick of chewing gum, popped it in his mouth, pocketing the wrapper. He tilted the pack toward Katelyn in implied offer and she took a piece.

  Watermelon. Weird.

  “Yeah, I’ve met Sam,” Katelyn said. She started to turn back to peer through the window, but then spun to face John. “Charlie’s not my uncle. You know that, right?”

  “Sure. Everyone knows that, but everyone still calls him your uncle, so I guess I never thought anything of it. Does it bother you when people call him that?”

  She shrugged. “I just don’t know him. It’s strange to hear people refer to him as
my uncle when I don’t really have a relationship with him at all.”

  John studied her for a second, making Katelyn want to squirm. “Is that why you don’t like me? Because you don’t know me?”

  Geez. Be direct, why don’t you?

  Katelyn figured it wouldn’t hurt to be direct right back.

  “Maybe it’s because you’re controlling, you’re bossy, and you’re a complete pain in my—”

  “Now, now, Katelyn, no need to talk dirty to me,” he said with a wink and that damn grin.

  Katelyn whirled back toward the window so he wouldn’t see the red crawling up her cheeks. His laughter continued to taunt her from behind as she studied what she could see of the inside of the building through the glass.

  John didn’t say anything for a long time, and when he did speak, Katelyn jumped at the sound. His question was just as out-of-the-blue as his voice had been.

  “Kate, don’t you think it’s possible your dad sent you away because you witnessed your mother’s murder?” His voice was quiet, but no less cutting, given the topic.

  She didn’t answer him. What could she say to a question like that?

  “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but if we can find out who killed your mother before your dad...well, before he goes, I think we should try. Don’t you?”

  She turned and looked at John for a full minute before answering. She hoped he wouldn’t see that she was trying to compose herself enough to respond. She knew if she opened her mouth to speak just then, she’d probably choke on the sob that seemed to be lodged in her throat at the moment.

  “Katelyn?” John prompted again. She shook her head at him and blinked to shove back tears she wouldn’t allow to fall in front of him.

  “John, I’ve looked my whole life for a reason for what my father did, but I don’t think it exists. You’re just grasping at straws. My mom was killed by some petty burglar passing through town, or that construction guy who took off right after she died. Whoever it was is long gone and may very well be dead or in jail now. You need to accept that fact and move on,” Katelyn said.