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

  John searched again, widening the area, knowing the person would have moved by now. Most likely, they retreated straight back, making it impossible for John to see them if he wanted to stay with Katelyn where he could protect her. John moved back to the front of the vehicle, checking quickly on Katelyn before calling in the shots. He cursed under his breath.

  He had stupidly had her right out in the open, and neither had been paying any attention to who might be around them. He’d been so damned lost in her, in that kiss. Never again. He’d barely been able to live with himself the first time he got a witness killed. He couldn’t let it happen with Kate. Time to get his head back in the game and track this killer. Twenty-four years was too damned long for a murderer to be on the loose.

  Everlasting: Chapter Eleven

  The car ride back to Katelyn’s house was tense and silent. John had made Katelyn wait in the car while he spoke to his deputies who’d arrived on the scene within minutes of getting his call for backup. John had looked angry and dangerous as she watched him through the window of the car.

  Katelyn didn’t want an angry, dangerous lawman by her side right now. She wanted John. The way he’d been by her side through all of the talks with her father’s doctors, throughout all of her adjustment to coming home. She wanted supportive-caring John—not scary-serious John who was so rigid he didn’t talk to her.

  When they neared her house, Katelyn finally broke the silence. “Are you going to tell me what happened back there? Was that really someone shooting at us or just some idiot who doesn’t know where and when he’s allowed to hunt?”

  John didn’t answer right away. He pulled his car in her father’s driveway and turned off the engine then radioed for a cruiser to watch her house. Great. A babysitter.

  John turned to her before speaking, one arm resting on the steering wheel, the other laying on the seat between them. He didn’t reach for her. It was as if he’d put up a wall. And, apparently, it was a wall he wouldn’t be crossing.

  “They were shooting at us. I don’t think the shooter meant to hit us. Whoever it was, they had plenty of time to line up that shot. We were pretty exposed out there. I think someone’s still trying to get you to leave town.”

  Katelyn swallowed. “I’m not leaving again, John. I’m not going anywhere.” She could feel the thickness building in her throat as she fought back the panic she was feeling. She wouldn’t be chased away again. She’d had no say in things as a child and, even as an adult, she’d let her father convince her to stay in Austin. Not anymore. She wouldn’t leave this time.

  “I know, Kate. But, whoever this is, they’re escalating and I won’t take chances with your life. We can’t have you out in the open again. Not for now, at least.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked. It was obvious he had no intention of coming inside with her.

  He didn’t answer as he cut the engine and came around to open her door.

  When they were on the porch, she tried again.

  “Where are you going, John?” she asked more forcefully this time. Did he think he could just blow her off now or treat her like a child the way her father always had? Katelyn was damn tired of no one asking her opinion, of people telling her what she could do and where she could go. She was tired of people sending her away. And that’s exactly what it felt like John was doing. Pushing her away.

  “I just have some things to do,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

  “John…” she tried again, but he cut her off with a hard look. His eyes were flat and lifeless, and it sent a chill right through her. He wasn’t reachable right now.

  She woodenly promised not to open the door for anyone other than John or Danny in response to his barked commands, then let herself inside and closed the door. She watched through the window as he walked back to his cruiser without so much as a glance back over his shoulder.

  * * *

  John hated the look on Katelyn’s face when he dropped her at her house. She knew he was pulling back, pulling away from her, but it couldn’t be helped. He’d been an idiot to think it was okay to get involved with her. At least he could stop it now before it was too late. He needed to focus on catching whoever killed her mom, whoever was coming after her now. If he could do that, then maybe—if she didn’t hate his guts by then—he could see if there was really anything worth pursuing between them.

  He waited in his cruiser until one of his deputies arrived at the house with Katelyn and went straight to the hospital. It was time someone in this case started talking, and he knew damn well Alan Bowden knew more than he’d been telling everyone all these years.

  John cursed as soon as he walked in the room. The slack look on Alan’s face told him this wouldn’t be a very lucid visit. There was no telling what decade his former mentor thought it was.

  Before John could say a word, anger sparked in Alan’s eyes. “What are you doing here again? I gave you an order to get back to work. Do you think this damn town is going to run itself if you keep lazing around here? I need someone I can trust on duty until I get out of this damn place.” Alan struck the side rail on his bed for emphasis as he glared at what he no doubt thought was his young deputy, not the new sheriff. The irony was, when Alan was sheriff, he’d never talked to any of his deputies this way. He was stern, but always fair. He led well and demanded respect, but gave it equally.

  The dementia brought out anger and a mean streak no one had seen coming. The doctor had said to expect it, but that didn’t make it any less shocking.

  John pressed on. Whether Alan was living in this year or not, he had to get him to talk if he was going to keep Katelyn safe.

  “I’m here about Caroline’s case, Alan,” John said and he stood next to the bed rather than sitting. He needed to interrogate his mentor, not coddle him now.

  Alan blanched but he didn’t reply, and John wasn’t sure if he’d just pulled him back to the present or not. “Alan, you need to tell me what Katelyn saw. What she witnessed that made you send her away.”

  That got Alan’s attention. “Don't bring Katelyn into this. You listen to me,” Alan tried to sit up, his face quickly turning red with the effort. Machines beeped alerts to the nurses down the hall. “You can’t bring Katelyn here. You leave her be where she is, John—where she’s safe.” His eyes were wild with desperation and John knew he wasn’t in the present. He seemed to have no idea Katelyn had moved to Evers.

  The doors burst open and a nurse crowded the room, trying to push John out as she silenced the alarm and urged Alan to lie back down. John shoved closer. “She’s already here, Alan, and from the looks of it, someone’s coming after her. You need to tell me what she saw so I can stop whoever’s doing this.”

  It was useless. Alan just shook his head and continued to insist John get Katelyn out of town. John felt hopeless as he let the nurse push him out of the room. How could he protect Katelyn if she couldn’t remember what happened, and Alan wouldn’t tell him what she’d seen or even where she was when her mother was murdered? Did she witness the murder itself or did she see or hear something afterward that Alan thought might get her hurt? But, if that were the case, why would Alan hide it from John, of all people?

  John wanted to hit the wall of the hallway, throwing all his frustration into beating something that couldn’t fight back. That’s how he felt. Like he couldn’t fight back. There were no leads and nothing to go on to tell him who might be after Katelyn.

  Except what had happened today. John radioed into Berta.

  “Yeah, boss?” came the scratchy voice.

  “Is Carter back yet?” He’d sent Carter Jenkins, one of his younger deputies, out to the woods where he and Katelyn were shot at to scour the area for any evidence. Carter may have been young, but he had grown up in the area and knew how to hunt and track. If anyone could follow the shooter or find a piece of evidence out there, it would be Carter.

  “No. On his way in, though. He radioed a few minutes ago and said he’s got fresh tire tracks but
nothing much useful. Tread is similar to any you’d find on a truck out here.”

  John groaned. Most of the men and half the grandmothers in the area drove a truck. “Did he get the tread just in case?”

  “Yup. Took an impression. That’s all he found.”

  John needed time to think. Leaving the hospital, he turned right and headed out of town toward Bishop Ranch. The twenty-minute drive wasn't fun. There was nothing to do but stew on the fact that someone was coming for Katelyn and he didn’t have a clue who it was or how to stop them.

  When he got to the ranch, he didn’t stop at the horse barn or the house. He looped around past Laura Bishop’s greenhouses and took the road to the old barn. Cade Bishop would probably come say hi and try to see what was bothering John eventually, but he’d likely give him a little while to work things out first. John parked by the barn and climbed up to the hayloft-turned-gym. Cade and Shane’s dad had closed in the hayloft and put in punching bags and some free weights when the brothers were teenagers. The setup offered privacy he couldn’t get at his gym. John took them up on their invitation to use it every once in a while when his demons got too close.

  He taped up his hands and slipped on gloves, turning to the heavy bag as images of Katelyn filled his mind. They weren’t the images he wanted of her in his head. They were pictures of her lifeless body with a bullet hole through her chest and his name written in blood just like it had been on Lexi. The kind of dread he was filled with now was the same feeling he’d had when Lexi wasn’t answering his calls. When word on the street had said his cover had been blown and Lexi had been labeled a snitch.

  John hit the bag over and over trying to make the reel in his head stop playing, but nothing could fix this for him. No amount of physical exertion was going to stop this. He had to find a way to solve the mystery of Caroline’s murder or come up with a lead on who was coming after Katelyn now.

  It wasn’t Cade who came up to find him after all. John heard May Bishop’s voice call up the stairs and dropped his arms. He couldn’t just ignore her the way he might have with Cade.

  “John, you know I can’t climb those stairs. You can’t leave an old lady down here waiting for you. Come on down.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Coming,” John said as he used his arm to wipe some of the sweat from his brow. He worked the gloves and tape off his hands, then grabbed a towel and bottle of water before taking the stairs as slowly as he could. He felt like a child being taken to task by his mother. He knew she’d want him to talk and May Bishop always got her way.

  John tilted his head from side to side, trying to stretch the tension out of his neck before finally taking the last step. May sat patiently in her wheelchair near what used to be her husband’s workbench. This barn had been his “Tinker Barn,” the place where Cade and Shane’s father had worked on all of his inventions. One of which had given the Bishops the money they all lived off today. Some industrial glue that was used all over the world in manufacturing.

  “Did Cade rat me out?” John asked, almost petulantly.

  “Hummph!” May laughed a response of sorts. “Cade and Shane used to use this place all the time when they were kids. Always needing to blow off steam or work something out. Nowadays, they don’t seem to need it much at all. So, when they do come out here, I know it’s something big bothering them. Something that’s knocked ‘em on their butts good. I’d imagine it’s the same with you. You’re a pretty even-keeled guy these days. What came along and knocked you down?”

  John shrugged. He felt like a kid, not wanting to talk, but wanting to all at once. Almost hoping she’d pull it out of him so he could get this off his chest, but not quite knowing how to start the conversation.

  She wheeled over to an old table and pointed at a chair. “Plant it and tell me what’s got you out here.”

  “Not much to tell. I’m pretty sure Alan sent his daughter away years ago because she witnessed her mother’s murder, only her memories don’t make sense given what we know about the crime scene, and what little she does remember doesn’t tell me anything about who killed her mom. But, someone in town doesn’t seem to care about that. They came after Katelyn and roughed her up and now they’re shooting at her.”

  May’s eyes went wide at that and he realized he should have expanded on that a bit more.

  “She’s all right,” John said quickly to set May at ease, “but I don’t have any leads on who it is and Alan refuses to tell me what he knows. I don’t have any way to keep her safe. Other than sending her back to Austin, and who knows if that will really keep her safe this time. Now that this person suspects she knows something, they may go after her even if she leaves town.”

  “And you don’t exactly want to send her away, do you?” May asked. She had an annoying way of just seeing right through a person. John didn’t know if it was voodoo magic or witchcraft, but the woman knew and saw all—somehow.

  John didn’t answer. He met May’s eyes and waited. She merely raised her brows and waited right back.

  John relented. “It doesn’t matter what I want. If I get emotionally involved, I’ll get her killed,” he said, studying the dirt packed into the floorboards of the barn.

  “Like New York?”

  John’s head shot up. Voodoo. Alan was the only one—should be the only one—who knew about New York.

  May smiled that innocent sweet smile she used when she was about to tell someone what they needed to do to fix their world. “My Jim was good friends with Alan back in the day. He probably shouldn’t have shared your story, but Alan wanted some advice when he was hiring that year. Wanted to know if we thought you were too broken to do the job.” She said this very matter-of-factly, but the truth was, he probably had been too broken. He’d always thought Alan Bowden had been nuts to take a gamble on him.

  When he’d come here from New York, he’d been one of the youngest police detectives in New York City, but he’d earned that badge the hard way. He’d earned it doing undercover work in one of the city’s most ruthless gangs. He took down a lot of people in the end, but his informant paid with her life and John paid with his soul. It had taken Alan Bowden a long time to convince John life was still worth living. That he could still be a good man, lead a good life, and not let the guilt of what had happened eat him alive.

  “You weren’t too broken then and you’re not now. You’re just doubting yourself,” May said quietly, her eyes boring a hole in him as she spoke.

  “I let myself get distracted again, May. Just like I did with Lexi. I got Lexi killed and I’m about to do the same thing to Katelyn.”

  May shook her head at him sadly but her eyes were fierce. “You did no such thing, young man.”

  John tried to let that sink in as she dressed him down like he was one of her own boys. He figured Cade and Shane had been on the receiving end of this more than once. “I almost got her shot today, May!”

  “I’d be willing to bet it wasn’t your fault she almost got shot. What do you expect of yourself, John? Do you think you should have kept her under lock and key at all times? With an armed guard outside her house? That you should be with her twenty-four seven? That you should have predicted the exact time and location of the shooting and prevented it somehow? What superhuman thing is it that you think you should have done? Because I got news for you, John. You can’t keep everyone safe all the time.” She barely seemed to take a breath as John stood, stunned into silence.

  “And I’ll tell you something else—you didn’t get Lexi killed. That gang killed Lexi. Her circumstances and her own choices before you connected with her weren’t the best, so that didn’t help matters any, but you didn’t kill her, John. Criminals did that. You just brought them to justice, that’s all. And you won’t get Katelyn killed either. You and your men can keep her safe until you can find out who’s doing this to her.”

  John looked back at May, wanting to believe her, but doubt still swirled in his mind and his heart. Could he really keep her safe here?

 
“You can’t take the world on your shoulders, John. You’ll crumble if you try. This person who’s doing these things, they’ve hidden for over twenty years. They’re coming out of whatever hole they’ve been hiding in all these years. That means they’ll make a mistake, eventually. They’ll leave a trail for you to follow somewhere along the way. When they slip up, you’ll get them. You just keep Katelyn close to you until then. Pull her close and keep her safe with you instead of pushing her away. Heaven knows that child has been pushed away long enough.”

  May turned her chair and pushed herself back along the paved pathway, one of many that webbed the farm to allow her to get around in her chair. She was muttering something about foolish men making foolish choices. He didn’t know if she was talking about him or the choice Alan had made to send Katelyn away and keep her away all these years. Probably both.

  John saw Josh Samuels, Shane and Cade’s likely future stepfather, walk out of the shadows and push May’s chair back up to the house for her. What he wouldn’t give to have the kind of love those two had.

  It took about two seconds for John to realize May was right. He needed to talk to Kate. To try to explain. Then he’d let her decide whether she wanted to take the risk; whether she thought he could keep her safe if they were involved. Katelyn would understand. But, he had a feeling she wouldn’t want to let ghosts rule her any longer. Whether it was Lexi’s ghost or her mother’s ghost, John knew Katelyn wouldn’t want any of them getting in the way of her living any longer. And, neither did he.

  Everlasting: Chapter Twelve

  Katelyn paced the kitchen. Normally, when she was upset she’d go to her studio and lose herself in her art. That wasn’t possible right now. Her studio was still being built, and all of her art and supplies were packed away in storage boxes in her car and her father’s dining room. She thought about cooking, but the refrigerator and freezer were already filled to capacity with casseroles and cakes and salads from her neighbors who insisted on feeding her while her father was ill.