SWAT Standoff

by LENA DIAZ,

  Donna sat bolt upright in her seat. “You didn’t.”

  “I did.” He was grinning so hard his cheeks had to hurt. “I asked around, found out she speeds down this road every Sunday, oblivious of anyone else who might be out for a Sunday drive. I figured it might be time to teach her the perils of speeding through Blount County. We don’t put up with that stuff around here.”

  She grinned. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  This time, she was the one who kissed him. She held nothing back. She told him she loved him in every touch, every slide of her hands through his hair, in the way she clung to him, half on his lap. She didn’t think she could ever get enough of him. And the way he kissed her back, she knew he felt the same.

  When they broke apart, their breathing choppy, pulses slamming in their veins, he shakily pushed her back onto her side of the seat and fastened her seat belt. His hands were still shaking when he fastened his. He put the truck in Drive and gave her a long, lingering look.

  “Do you want to go watch Officer Lynch give the mayor’s wife a ticket?”

  She slowly shook her head. “I think my vendetta against the mayor’s wife is over. She’s in my past. You’re my future. Take me home, Blake. Take me home to Destiny.”

  “I love you,” he said, his voice husky. “You know that, right?”

  She took his hand in hers and rested them together on the seat between them. “I know. I love you, too. Let’s get out of here before that cop has to turn around and give us a ticket for indecent exposure.” She unbuttoned the top button on her shirt.

  Blake’s eyes widened. He slammed the gas. The truck peeled out onto the highway, in the opposite direction of the little drama playing out behind them. Donna could practically feel the mayor’s wife’s glare burning into the back of her head, no doubt knowing exactly who had orchestrated her getting a ticket today. But none of that mattered. Not really.

  What mattered was that Donna had wonderful friends and a family that made her life whole.

  What mattered was the man beside her, a brave, strong, wonderful man, who understood her, both her strengths and her weaknesses, and reveled in them.

  What mattered, above all else, was that no matter how hard life got, she would never be alone. Because she had Blake, the love of her life, her destiny.

  * * * * *

  Look for more books from award-winning author Lena Diaz later in 2018.

  And don’t miss the previous books in the

  TENNESSEE SWAT miniseries:

  MOUNTAIN WITNESS

  SECRET STALKER

  STRANDED WITH THE DETECTIVE

  And the book that started it all,

  TENNESSEE TAKEDOWN!

  Available now from Harlequin Intrigue!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MAJOR CRIMES by Janie Crouch.

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  Major Crimes

  by Janie Crouch

  Prologue

  Omega Sector agent Cain Bennett sat in the back row of a Georgia courthouse waiting for the judge to come in and sentence the woman Cain had loved since he was sixteen years old.

  Hayley Green, the woman Cain had arrested.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face, then leaned forward to rest the weight of his forearms on his knees. Hayley currently sat ramrod straight at the table directly in front of the judge’s bench, in a Fulton County orange jumpsuit, her straight blond hair in a ponytail behind her. She was obviously ignoring the whispers from the crowd that was here to see her sentenced. Press, government figures, even some people from their small Georgia hometown who wanted to be able to report the gossip live filled the room.

  You would think she was about to be sentenced for murder rather than computer hacking.

  He still hadn’t figured out why Hayley chose to use her ninja-like computer skills illegally, to hack the College Entrance Test—CET—system. The exam, which allowed students to get their results back instantly rather than having to wait months like previous standardized tests, was supposed to be unhackable. Questions completely random.

  Hayley and her cohorts had figured out not how to hack the test, but how to build false exams into the system. Ones that the system thought were real and that gave the students who “took” them real scores and credit.

  Rich students were willing to pay handsomely for these false exams and scores, which would, in essence, assure their acceptance into any college they desired. A pretty nifty scam when it was all said and done. But why she had done it, Cain had no idea. The girl he’d known in high school would never have.

  And Hayley sure as hell wasn’t going to offer any reasons why to Cain. She was refusing to talk to him at all.

  He gritted his teeth in a constant tension he’d lived with for the past several months. Yes, he’d reignited his relationship with Hayley because of the hacking case.

  But because he’d thought she might be able to put him in contact with some of the hackers, not because he thought she was one of them.

  But to her it just looked like he’d slept with her as part of some damn sting operation.

  Cain looked up at Hayley’s still, stiff form in the chair. God, he’d made a mess of things. She had, too. Why the hell had she been hacking? Become a criminal? She knew he’d dedicated his life to law enforcement. Choosing to break the law was like a slap in the face after what they’d once shared.

  But hopefully the judge would take into consideration that Hayley had no prior convictions, no arrests. She’d pleaded no contest in order to not drag out the case and cost taxpayers thousands of dollars in a trial. Cain, as the agent who had been in charge of the investigation, had petitioned for no jail time for Hayley.

  Parole with limited computer usage, definitely. But Hayley wasn’t dangerous. Had no intent to harm others. Time already served would be a perfect sentence for her.

  She might not like it, but Cain planned to be a lot more present in her life. He’d been wrong to let them grow so far apart as he’d gone to college, then the FBI training academy, before joining Omega Sector. They’d talked via social media and email, but he obviously had not been privy to what was really going on in her life. Aka: criminal activities.

  That would stop now.

  The judge would release her today, and tomorrow Cain would begin to bulldoze his way back into her life. She’d be mad—hell, so was he—but they would work through it. They had too much history, too much passion, too much rightne
ss to be without each other for long. Hayley Green was his, the same way he was hers. They had been for over ten years.

  Beginning tomorrow, he was going to make sure his little felon had her own law enforcement agent keeping her on the straight and narrow. Cain smiled slightly. It wouldn’t be easy, but she was worth it. They were worth it.

  The bailiff announced for all to rise as the judge entered the courtroom. Everyone sat back down as the judge asked Hayley to stand.

  Cain listened as the judge spoke to Hayley about computer crimes, although not violent, not being victimless. He grew more tense as the judge pointed out that she’d stolen not just from the company that developed and ran the CET, but from students around the country who had missed out on the opportunity of college acceptance and scholarship because of the test results she had sold for money.

  Bile began to burn at the back of his throat when the judge said that Hayley had not just hacked computers, she had stolen futures.

  This was not good.

  “Today,” the judge continued, “I feel that it is important to set an example. To show that people like you, Ms. Green—young, intelligent, able to work—will be held to strict standards when you choose to break the law. To discourage others from making the same choices.”

  Cain wanted to stand up. Stop time. Do something. Because the next words to come out of the judge’s mouth were going to alter Cain’s entire world.

  He couldn’t imagine what they were going to do to Hayley’s.

  “Hayley Green, you have pleaded nolo contendere to a charge of first-degree computer crimes, which is a class B felony, with a sentence of up to twenty years in prison. This court hereby sentences you to ten years at the Georgia Women’s Correctional Institution, Minimum Security Campus, eligible for parole not before four years.”

  Cain saw Hayley’s body jerk as the gavel came down against the sound block on the judge’s bench. The judge said a few more things and then court was dismissed.

  Cain couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Feeling like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, he stared at Hayley, still standing stiffly at the table as her lawyer murmured something in her ear. Hayley’s cousin Ariel, the only family present, was crying softly in the row behind her.

  Four years. Hayley would spend at least four years in prison.

  And Cain had sent her there.

  People began filing out around him, but Cain couldn’t force himself to move. Couldn’t stop looking at Hayley. Couldn’t figure out how to make this right.

  Things would never be right again.

  An officer came over to her and asked her to move to the other side of the table so he could handcuff her. She did, moving slowly, like she was in shock. Which she had to be.

  Four years.

  As the officer turned her so he could cuff her, Hayley’s eyes met Cain’s. He took a step toward her, unable to help himself.

  He expected tears, or terror, or even hatred to light her eyes as she looked at him, skin across her cheekbones pale and drawn.

  But her eyes were dead, emotionless. She looked at him as though he were a stranger.

  Then she turned from him completely and was led away.

  Chapter One

  Four years later

  Cain often dealt with the worst of humanity as part of the Omega Sector Protection and Recovery Division.

  Crisis management and bodyguarding were a regular part of his job. He and his team also dealt with hijackers and kidnappers on a regular basis.

  But his mission right now was to rescue not a person, but the entire Critical Response Division of Omega, which was being hijacked in its own way.

  They had a psychopath on their hands, set on destroying the team one by one—by killing their loved ones. And someone on the inside was helping the madman in his quest.

  Cain was currently watching a video of Damien Freihof—said psychopath—who had slit the throat of Omega psychiatrist Grace Parker last week.

  Freihof and his cohort within Omega Sector had decided it would be fun to send the murder as a live feed to all active Omega Sector agents—forcing them to watch as Dr. Parker died without them being able to step in and do anything about it.

  So now Cain was able to watch it over and over. Watch as Grace’s eyes dulled in death. Watch as Freihof’s eyes had filled with something akin to joy as the doctor—a beautiful woman in her fifties, and an integral part of the Omega team—died sitting right in front of him.

  Freihof had made it no secret that he wanted Omega Sector’s Critical Response Division to pay for the death of his wife, Natalie, years ago. That he blamed the elite law enforcement task group for her untimely demise in a bank hostage situation.

  He was determined they would feel the pain of losing loved ones like he had.

  Grace Parker had been just one of those loved ones Freihof had gone after. For the past five months he’d been the mastermind behind attacks on nearly a dozen Omega Sector agents or their friends and family. Grace had died last week. Two other Omega agents were in the hospital after an explosion.

  And Freihof was reveling in it all.

  Freihof had to be stopped. But just as importantly, the mole inside Omega—the one who was feeding Freihof information that was allowing him to be so successful in his attacks—had to be stopped. Steve Drackett, director of the Critical Response team, was unsure who could be trusted.

  That’s why Cain was here, brought from a different division of Omega, to help catch this traitor.

  Cain watched the death of Grace Parker again, hoping to notice something this time that maybe he’d missed before. He hadn’t personally known the woman, which allowed him to look at the footage more objectively, see things others—people who had cared deeply about the psychiatrist—might miss.

  Cain was known for his ability to separate emotion from the job. It was how he’d risen to assistant director of Omega’s Protection and Recovery Division when he’d barely reached his thirtieth birthday.

  Because he got the job done, no matter what.

  He’d proven that four years ago.

  Cain studied the footage again, pushing all thoughts of Hayley Green aside. Right now he needed to understand as much as he could about Damien Freihof. Because anything Cain could find out about him would hopefully lead to information about the mole.

  In a way—as psychotic as Freihof was—he was easier to understand. The man wanted vengeance. Sure, he may want vengeance for something that Omega Sector wasn’t actually responsible for, but at least his motives were clear.

  What did the traitor want?

  There couldn’t be much money involved in helping Freihof. Maybe a little, but not the sort of big payoff someone was usually looking for in order to risk their reputation and/or life.

  That left a lot of other factors. It could also be vengeance; maybe Freihof had found a kindred spirit also looking for some sort of revenge for something Omega had done. Maybe the person had a desire for control, or was some sort of political zealot, planning to bring down Omega Sector from the beginning.

  Or maybe Freihof had control over the man—or woman—and was blackmailing him or her in some way.

  The motive didn’t really matter to Cain in terms of justifying why the traitor was behaving the way he was, but understanding motive always provided information in an unknown suspect.

  Cain sat in a private conference room attached to Steve Drackett’s office. It was one of the few places Steve had assured him there was no way the mole could have any type of surveillance devices.

  While Cain trusted Steve completely, he wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Cain had his own countersurveillance device that allowed him to know for certain that no one was recording or transmitting visual or audio data from this room.

  Files of every employee—agent or not—of the Critical Response Division sat in group
s on the large conference table. Cain had already been in this room for more than eight hours going through the files.

  He had four distinct groups: cleared, unlikely, unknown and suspicious.

  People like Steve Drackett, whom Cain had known for years and who had spent most of his life fighting people like Freihof, were in the cleared category. Other agents also, like the various members of the Omega SWAT team who had been injured or nearly killed by Freihof over the last few months. Employees who had joined Omega very recently were also cleared, as well as those who had no access to the type of information that had been given to Freihof.

  But that still left a hell of a lot of people in the unlikely, unknown or suspicious categories.

  Long-term operatives and agents were in the unlikely category. Cain rubbed the back of his neck as he walked around the table looking at the files. The thought of the culprit being a colleague who had been involved with Omega Sector for years churned like acid in his gut. He drowned those thoughts by taking a swig from his now-cold coffee mug, the only substance he’d had today. He wanted to move these agents to the cleared list, but he couldn’t.

  Emotion had no place in solving crimes. No matter how much Cain wanted someone to be innocent, he knew firsthand that wasn’t always how things panned out.

  He looked through all the unknown files again. People with a background in computers who would be able to get Freihof the information he wanted without being detected. The one thing they knew for sure was the traitor was highly skilled in computer usage.

  But a number of people were skilled in that area. Even people who had jobs not involving computers or intel could still have the prowess needed to be the mole.

  Cain picked up a file for John Carnell. The guy was a genius; his damn mind worked like a computer. Abrupt and sullen, he was often difficult to work with, but almost always the smartest person in the room.

  Cain slid Carnell’s file from the unknown to the suspicious pile. There it joined half a dozen others. Two from people who had filed complaints with the head Omega office in Washington, DC, when they were bypassed for promotions—maybe one of them had an ax to grind and had become the mole. SWAT wannabe Saul Poniard’s file was also in the pile; he had such a perfect record that it bugged Cain.