by Paula Graves
“Why did you leave Kentucky?” she murmured against his throat. “Because of your brother’s death?”
She felt his steps falter for a second before he recovered. “Nate was supposed to be the one who made it. He was going to college, on his way to a real life that didn’t include coal mines or farming. But he never could turn his back on a friend. One of his high school buddies roped him into a plan to steal a big shipment of pot the Bufords were sending across state. It was going to be a big score—enough money to pay his tuition for an extra year. Nate thought he could do this one thing, make all that money and it would be done—”
“Never works out that way.” Growing up in rural Alabama, Megan had seen her share of big dreams colliding with reality.
Evan’s body was tense with anger. “Nate threw away a life that would have been worth living. Drove the final nail in the coffin of my parents’ marriage.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I got out of here as soon as I could. I wanted it behind me. And then I went out and got the education he should have gotten, the law degree he wanted—” He shook his head.
“Is it what you wanted?” Megan leaned her head back to look into his eyes. “Being a lawyer?”
He frowned. “I thought it was at the time. But I’ve been thinking of a change.”
“No more lawyering?”
“Certainly not the kind of lawyering that makes you tell a soldier to hold his fire when people are shooting at him,” he said darkly. He forced a smile. “Am I too old to join the FBI this late in life?”
“I’m not sure you’d enjoy their rules any more than the Pentagon’s,” Megan warned. “At least, that’s what my sister Izzy says.”
“Does she ever regret leaving the FBI?”
Megan shook her head, thinking how happy her sister was now that she and Ben Scanlon were back together again. “She’s working with her partner again, now that Ben’s joined us at Cooper Security, so she still has everything she loved most about working at the FBI.”
The slow song came to an end, and on stage, Nola shot them an apologetic look as the band went immediately into a lightning-paced “Fox on the Run.”
“You hungry?” Evan asked, waving toward the bar. Besides offering soft drinks, juice, tea and coffee, the Meade Motor Inn apparently served food, if the chalkboard menu over the bar was anything to go by.
“Starving,” she answered, realizing they hadn’t eaten since the quick burger they’d grabbed on the drive home from Nashville the day before.
The menu wasn’t extensive or fancy, but Megan was delighted to find a fried bologna sandwich on the menu. “It was Dad’s go-to dinner when we were kids,” she admitted with a grin. She ordered the sandwich and a glass of iced apple cider, while Evan opted for the fried catfish sandwich and root beer. They found a small table near the back of the room and ate their first meal in over twenty-four hours.
Full and feeling relaxed for the first time in days, Megan pulled Evan out on the dance floor again for the next song, “Dumas Walker,” and coaxed him into a pretty creditable two-step. By the time the song ended, he was laughing almost as hard as she was.
“My ankle is going to hate me in the morning,” he groaned as he limped back to their table. “But that was fun.”
Megan realized she hadn’t laughed so much, or felt so lighthearted, in years.
Four years, to be exact. Since Vince’s death.
“It was,” she agreed, her smile faltering only a little.
He reached across the table and took her hand. “I know it’s just an oasis, but I think I needed a night like this.”
Just an oasis. The full weight of the secret forces aligned against them settled on her shoulders, dimming her contentment. “I did, too, but we should head back to the room now. And maybe remind Nola not to tell anybody you’re back in Kentucky?”
“They’ll keep it quiet,” he assured her. “Not the first time someone in these parts needed to stay under the radar.” He stood, holding out his hand. “Let’s go say good-night.”
She slipped her hand into his and they crossed to the stage, where the Meades were winding down another song. Nola and her husband both stepped down from the stage to say good night.
“You reckon you’ll be stickin’ around past tonight?” Nola asked hopefully.
“Not sure how long we’ll be here,” Evan answered, apology in his voice. He gave her a hug. “Good to see both of you again. I’ll try not to be such a stranger in the future.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that, Evan.” Nola’s husband, Del, shook Evan’s hand firmly. He was a beanstalk of a man with a plain face made distinctive by soulful brown eyes. He turned those eyes on Megan as he bid her farewell, and she could see how he’d caught Nola’s attention in the first place.
“I like your friends,” she told Evan as they walked hand in hand down the motel breezeway. “And I can’t believe you’re a mandolin player.”
“I haven’t played in years,” he said, smiling slightly. “When I left Kentucky, I left it all.”
Something about the tone of his voice made her think he was beginning to regret that decision. “You could ask your cousin to make you a new one.”
He shot her a wry smile as she unlocked the door to her room. “I’m unemployed at the moment. I don’t think I could afford Cecil’s prices.”
“There’s a good secondhand shop back in Maybridge, not far from the office,” she said as they went inside. “I’ve seen pretty decent-looking mandolins for sale there before—”
He caught her face between his hands and smiled down at her. “You don’t have to fix me all at once, Megan.”
“Sorry.” She chuckled ruefully. “I tend to tackle problems when I see them.”
His thumbs moved lightly across her cheeks. “And you see a problem in me?”
“Is that an honest question?” she asked.
He cocked his head. “I guess it is.”
“I think you had a sad childhood in a lot of ways, and you blame it all on this place, so when you got the chance, you wiped the dirt of Kentucky off your feet and got the hell out. You pretended you were from somewhere else, cut yourself off from everyone and everything that reminded you of home—”
He dropped his hands away from her face, turning away. Regret bridled her tongue—she had a bad habit of being a little too honest when discretion might stand her in better stead.
“The accent was the hardest to get rid of.” He unlocked the motel room door. “You see how easily I slip back into it. I thought I’d finally conquered it by the time I started working at the Pentagon, but half of everyone I met in the military seemed to be from somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon line.” Laughing ruefully, he dropped onto the end of the bed. “By the time I left Kaziristan, I sounded like a Cumberland boy again.”
She sat next to him. “You sound a lot like a Cumberland boy now, you know.”
He leaned toward her, his shoulder nudging hers. “That’s your fault, Dixie. And I guess living in North Carolina for the last year hasn’t helped.”
She smiled. “I like your accent. It gives you character.”
He looked at her with a wry smile. “I like yours, too. It’s real and honest.” His eyes darkened to a smoky olive. “And incredibly sexy.”
The room heated up in a heartbeat. “Evan—”
He threaded his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer. His drawl lowered to a feral growl that sent a tremble of desire rocketing straight to her core. “I know this is all kinds of wrong, but no matter how many times I tell myself so, it doesn’t change a thing. I still want you.”
She closed her eyes, struggling with her body’s reckless response to his touch. “I haven’t—not since—”
“I know. I know it should matter—” His words faltered as his lips touched hers. Lightly, a brush. An accidental collision.
But the second touch was deliberate. Commanding. He claimed her mouth with ruthless intent, branding her, demanding surrende
r. She had no fight left, no desire to resist his conquest. The passion his touch awakened felt as desperate as if she’d taken her first breath after years of drowning.
She slipped her hand under his shirt, her fingers exploring the hard contours of his stomach, the broad expanse of his chest. He groaned, the sound rumbling through her, and she felt the full power of her femininity in his trembling response.
He regained control, laying her back on the bed, pinned beneath his weight. She drank in the desire in his eyes, remembering with a thrill what it was like to be the object of such fiery passion.
His hand shook as he unbuttoned the first button of her shirt. She could see the struggle in his expression, the need for control battling with the need for release. As his fingertip brushed across the swell of her breast, she wasn’t sure which side she wanted to win the war.
She felt a brief vibration where his hips pressed into hers. Then another, more powerful.
Evan froze above her, gazing down at her with a puzzled look. Then he started to laugh, rolling aside.
The vibration repeated. This time she also heard the insistent buzz.
Her cell phone was ringing on vibrate.
“Better get that,” Evan said, breathless and still chuckling.
Growling with frustration, she dug the phone from her pocket. “Yeah?”
“Did you have to run for the phone?” Jesse asked. “You sound out of breath.”
Heat poured into her cheeks and down her neck. “Somethin’ like that. Do you have news?”
“Well, yeah, as a matter of fact. Is Pike where he can hear if you put me on speaker?” Jesse asked.
Megan slanted her eyes toward Evan, who still lay on his back next to her on the bed, a rueful smile on his flushed face. “Yeah, he can hear you.” She engaged the speaker. “Go ahead.”
“We tracked down Captain Gantry.” Jesse’s voice sounded a little tinny through the cell phone’s speaker. “Or, I guess I should say, Major Gantry. He got promoted and transferred out of Kaziristan not long after Vince’s death to work at PKSOI in Carlisle, Pennsylvania.”
“PKSOI?” Megan asked.
“The army’s Peacekeeping and Stability Operations Institute,” Evan contributed. “Is he still in Pennsylvania? If we leave first thing in the morning, we could be there before nightfall—”
“Actually, Gantry left PKSOI last year for a new position at Fort Bragg in North Carolina,” Jesse said. “Which means—”
“If we leave at dawn, we can meet with Gantry sometime around lunchtime tomorrow,” Evan finished for him, his eyes glittering with excitement.
Megan tried to feel the same anticipation, but the closer she got to the answers about Vince’s death, the more she wondered if she’d be happy when she found them. Did she really want to know that people high in her own government had ordered her husband’s murder?
And did she really want to say goodbye to Evan Pike?
Chapter Fourteen
Evan sat up on the edge of the bed and jotted the contact information Jesse Cooper gave them over the phone, his mind racing ahead to how he wanted to approach Elmore Gantry. The captain—major now—had always been hard to read for Evan. He hadn’t been hostile, the way many of the men in his unit had been, but Gantry had never seemed open or friendly, either.
He hadn’t been a hard-core disciplinarian by any stretch—he’d trusted his soldiers to do their jobs well and intervened only if there was a mistake or infraction. Nor had he been one of those officers who tried to treat his men like friends. He’d socialized with officers only, but on even those occasions his participation had seemed more a matter of obligation on his part than pleasure.
He’d seemed perpetually preoccupied. Guarded, even. Which might suggest he’d been forced to keep secrets from his men.
Secrets about the upper brass’s decision to negotiate with the al Adar rebels?
It wouldn’t be easy to get him to speak to them on a good day. And Evan had a feeling the last thing Gantry wanted to discuss was Vince Randall’s death. It had been the only live-fire death his unit had suffered under his watch, despite the dangers inherent in peacekeeping duties in Kaziristan.
“You probably shouldn’t give Gantry any time to make himself scarce,” Jesse warned.
“True,” Evan said, though he wasn’t really sure Jesse Cooper was right. Trying to beard the lion in his den wasn’t usually the best angle of attack. He might do better if he lured Gantry out of his comfort zone.
“Are you still seeing signs of being followed?” Megan asked her brother.
“They’re definitely out there. Right now we haven’t decided how we want to handle things—clearly, they’re not trying to make any moves on any of us. They’re just watching.”
“We’re the ones they want,” Megan said. She hadn’t bothered to close her shirt, and the tempting sight of her breasts, barely encased by white silk and lace, was beginning to become too potent a distraction for Evan.
He got up from the bed and crossed to the chair by the window, needing the distance. “That suggests we’re definitely on the right track with this, doesn’t it?”
“I hope so. The more I learn about Barton Reid, the more convinced I become that he should be behind bars for life,” Jesse answered flatly. “So far, the SSU isn’t watching the Gossamer Lake Coopers. We put them on alert, but they’ve been combing the woods looking for any sign of intruders and haven’t seen a thing. Nobody’s going to get past a Cooper on Gossamer Mountain for long, so it seems the SSU is focusing on the immediate family only for now.”
Megan looked across at Evan. He dragged his gaze guiltily from her chest to her face, and she blushed, pulling her blouse together. “We should take advantage of that,” she suggested.
“Already on it. Luke will be calling you as soon as we get off the phone,” Jesse said. “Listen, these people are serious. Don’t take any crazy chances. I get why you don’t want to bring the authorities in on this right now—I do. But none of this is going to bring Vince back, and I’d just as soon not lose you, too, Red. You hearin’ me?”
Megan’s eyes glittered brightly with unshed tears, but she squared her jaw and didn’t let them spill. “I hear you.”
Jesse’s voice softened. “Isabel said to tell you Patton’s doing fine but he misses you like crazy.”
“That’s such a lie—Patton thinks Isabel hung the moon,” Megan replied with a watery laugh. “Tell her to pet him extra for me. And y’all be safe, too. Just because those goons aren’t making a move on any of you now doesn’t mean they won’t change tactics if they get desperate.”
“Believe me, none of us are taking anything for granted.” Jesse’s tone was utterly grim. “Take care of yourselves, okay? I’ll get off the phone now so Luke can get through to you.”
“Thanks, Jesse. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Red.” Jesse hung up, and Megan closed her phone, cradling it to her chest.
Evan watched her struggle for control, acutely aware of how hard it had been to hang up the phone and sever the connection between her and her family. Despite her obvious strength—both physical and mental—their hurried flight from Alabama was starting to take a heavy toll on her.
Just three days ago, she was a widow visiting her husband’s grave, with no thought about murders or conspiracies. He’d asked a lot of her when he challenged her to give him ten minutes of her time to listen to his crazy theory.
He’d asked enough.
The phone rang again. Megan grabbed it on the first ring and left it on speakerphone. “Hello?”
“Hi, Megan, it’s Luke.”
Evan searched his memory, trying to place which cousin was Luke. The guy with the riding barn? He thought that was right.
“J.D., Gabe and Jake are here with me,” Luke added. “We’re going to try to help you out. Jesse says you’re planning to go to Fort Bragg?”
“Right, but we’re a lot closer than y’all are.” She looked up at Evan. “We’re not sure it�
��s a good idea to wait here much longer. Evan’s from here, and while he hasn’t lived here for a long time, they might still think to look for us here.”
“I’ve got a bird at my disposal.” That was a different voice, a low drawl that Evan couldn’t place.
“J.D., I can’t ask you—” Megan protested.
J.D. was the oldest of the Cooper Cove bunch. The former navy helicopter pilot.
“You aren’t asking. I’m offering,” J.D. said firmly. “Your brother’s already paid for the fuel and my time is my own. Billy’s letting me use the LongRanger—six passenger. Practically a luxury model.”
The tears Megan had been fighting crept down her cheeks. “Thank you. Is there a particular place you want to meet us?”
“Let me look at the map a minute.” On the Alabama end of the call came the rattle of a computer keyboard. “Okay, looks like Wytheville, Virginia, would be on your driving route. I have an old navy buddy who has a transport service and landing strip up there. I can get him to clear me a place on the strip to put down and y’all can meet us there.”
Evan’s mind raced ahead, realizing Megan’s cousins were, unwittingly, giving him exactly the chance he needed to get Megan safely out of the mess he’d brought into her life. “That sounds perfect,” he said aloud. “Thank you.”
“I’ll work things out with my buddy and text you the details before morning,” J.D. said.
“What time do y’all plan to hit the road?” Luke asked.
Megan looked at Evan. “We can be up by five. We’re on eastern time here, right?”
Evan nodded. “Four in Alabama.”
“We should still beat you there by helicopter,” J.D. said. “Look for the text from me.”
They said their goodbyes, and Megan pocketed her phone again. “This is happening fast,” she said, a little breathless.
Too fast, he thought. He pushed to his feet and headed for the door to the adjoining room. “We’d better get some sleep. Five o’clock will come early.”
She intercepted him before he reached the door, catching his hand in hers. She gazed up at him with eyes that shined like molten silver. “If Jesse hadn’t called—”