Jim Taylor with the FBI came over to her desk wearing a visitor’s badge. They had known each other for years, even worked together on a few assignments.
Tossing a police mug shot on her desk, he settled back in a chair. “Don’t you have a guy in federal custody who claims to have witnessed a murder fifteen years ago in Texas?”
Glancing down, she puckered her lips. “You mean Eugene Barlow?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy.”
“What about him? We didn’t put much stake in his statement because he’s a druggie, and his very long rap sheet ranges from petty assault to armed robbery to forgery.”
“We got a guy who claims Barlow is telling the truth and he knows where the body is buried.” Taylor stood and turned to leave. “Want to go for a ride? I’m going to check it out.”
“God, yes. Take me away,” Kate said, grabbing her jacket and heading for the door.
They drove for an hour and fifteen minutes before turning off 35W. They cruised through the small town of Cleburne and on to the little town of Long Horn, population 3,241.
Taylor met up with two other agents. He got out of the car only to return within minutes. As he slid behind the wheel, he said, “It’s up here, close to an old abandoned mill.”
As the car pulled up, Kate saw that the ME and the local police had been at work. A perimeter had been cordoned off by yellow tape. A large, blue canopy covered the excavation site.
As they approached, the stench of decayed flesh slammed into Kate. No one who ever smelled a rotting corpse could forget the stench.
The skeletal remains lay on a black, unzipped body bag. The ME carefully traced the corpse with a magnifying glass.
A policeman approached, “Can I help you?”
Taylor flashed his badge, his neck stretching to see behind the officer. “We’re the ones who called in the tip.” Taylor thumbed toward her. “This is CIA Kate Stone. One of her prisoners gave up the information.”
“Well, we don’t know much. The body is going to the forensic lab in Fort Worth.”
Kate spotted something. “Excuse me,” she said, stepping under the police tape. “Can I have a word?” Kate called out.
The ME looked up. “Who are you?”
“My guy witnessed the murder,” Kate said. “What is that black thing next to those rags?”
“It looks like an old lunch box.”
Kate pulled a pair of latex gloves out of the tissue box and asked, “Have you ID’d the body yet.” Lifting the box carefully, she set it on a nearby portable table.
“No, just that it’s a male in his mid to early forties. At first I thought the cause of death was by asphyxia. Then I noticed this clean cut on the spinal column. This man was likely stabbed to death.”
Kate released the two hinges that kept the box closed and shoved back the lid. It quickly became evident the article was indeed a lunchbox of some sort. There were moldy bits of food still wrapped in plastic along with a rotted Twinkie and a rusted thermos.
Kate started to remove the gloves, and leave when a pocket watch fell from the examining table to the ground. Kate picked it up, brushed off the dirt, and flipped the lid open.
Her breathing stopped and her eyes widened.
***
Two weeks later Kate walked into Falcon Securities and approached a very pretty young woman who smiled and asked if she could help her.
“Is Brody Hawke here?”
Blond tinted brows pulled together. “Who wants to know?”
“Kate Stone, CIA.”
“One moment, please.”
Kate didn’t expect Brody to be sitting in an office, but she knew Frank would see her, and she’d learn all she needed from him. And she was right. Frank walked out of his office and offered her a big hug.
“Come in, Kate,” Frank said. “It’s wonderful to see you up and around.”
“Thank you.”
“How have you been?”
“Let’s cut the crap, Frank. Where is Brody?”
Frank’s eyes widened. “He’s on an assignment in Istanbul.”
“Why hasn’t he taken my calls?”
Frank lowered his head and moved to sit behind his desk. “Your father is a real pain in the ass.”
“I agree.”
“He called me when it was determined you were on the mend. The SOB told me he knew that Brody had kidnapped you. Also if he ever came near you again, he’d take down this agency.” Frank leaned back and templed his fingers. “To prove his point, he sent a butt load of lawyers in here. He was ready to file charges unless Brody agreed to the restraining order.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Kate asked.
Frank banged his desk. “Hell, no, I’m not kidding. All that shit tore Brody to pieces.”
“Why would he fall for that?”
“Your signature was on the petition.”
“I didn’t sign anything.”
“The suit came from you.”
“No, it didn’t. My father is the biggest manipulator in the world. He’s been that way all his life. You should have called his bluff, Frank.”
“How was I going to do that?” Frank asked. “First question out of a judge’s mouth would be ‘did your agent kidnap a CIA agent.’”
“Is that why Brody is avoiding my calls?”
Frank shrugged. “I can’t read his mind.”
“When’s he due back?”
“This afternoon.”
“It’s very important he calls me. I have some information he will definitely want to hear.”
Kate left and went straight to her father’s home. Fuming, she got out of her car and slammed the door as hard as she could. She marched into her father’s den and kicked over a chair. He stood, and his mouth fell open.
“You’re one sorry bastard,” she said.
When her father sputtered, she held her hand out like a traffic cop. “Shut up. Don’t say a word to me. Not ever. Don’t tell me you were doing it for my own good. Don’t say you were trying to protect me. Do not do it, Dad.”
She left the room, went upstairs, and packed a bag. Her father waited at the bottom landing for her. She pushed past him and left her father’s house. Shoving the car into reverse, she squealed out of the driveway and drove to her own home.
The place was musty and in need of a good dusting, but it felt good to be home again. Never would her father have the chance to direct her life.
She opened the refrigerator and took out a Diet Coke. When she turned around, Brody stood in the doorway. He looked wonderful. More handsome than she remembered. God, she’d missed him.
Her heart fluttered in her chest. “Hi,” she said.
“Frank said your father put out that restraining order.”
“He did. I wouldn’t do that. I don’t want to be away from you ever again, not for as long as I live.”
Brody took one step forward, and Kate ran the rest of the way. She kissed him and tasted his wonderful sweetness. Something she’d missed for so long. His scent kicked her hormones into over-drive, and Kate wanted him so badly she ached.
Finally they broke apart. “I thought you might die.”
“I thought I would too. But not seeing you hurt more than two bullets to the chest.” Kate said.
“You know I would’ve been there.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“I’ll always be there, Kate, if you’ll let me.” He brushed her blond hair back behind her ears.
She stepped away but continued holding his hand. “I have something I want you to see.”
His brows wrinkled. “What?”
“Years ago I had a snitch who kept telling me he’d witnessed a murder. I never believed him and kind of blew him off. Then this FBI guy, Taylor, took me to the gravesite one of his guys on death row mentioned.”
“Okay,” Brody said.
Leading Brody to the sofa where she’d tossed her purse, she reached in and pulled out the plastic bag. Taking a deep breath, she held o
ut the time piece. “Does this watch look familiar?”
Brody opened the bag and emptied the watch into his palm. Fingering the small latch, the case opened to reveal a picture of him, his two sisters, and his mother. “This belonged to my dad. We bought it for him the Christmas before he disappeared.”
“Brody, your father was murdered.” She touched his arm. “The story we’ve got so far says he tried to stop a woman from being killed.”
“My dad did that?”
“We finally found the woman. She verified the story.” Kate ran her hand up and down his arm. “Your father didn’t leave his family. He’d was killed trying to defend a helpless woman.”
“My mom...”
“The body will have to be identified. But at least now he can have a proper burial.”
“Where is he?”
“Coroner’s Office in Fort Worth.”
He handed her back the evidence, knowing it would be a part of the investigation. A mixture of emotions crossed his features. “I never imagined.”
“I’m glad you know he didn’t just leave you and your family. He loved you and was only doing what any decent person would’ve done.”
“I need to contact my mother,” Brody said, rubbing the back of his neck. “My sisters too.” He blinked back tears. “You have no idea what this means to my family.”
“Let me know if I can help.”
He kissed her briefly then left. Emptiness encased Kate, leaving her alone and adrift. She knew Brody would come back when his head was straight. She only hoped that wouldn’t take forever.
***
Kate had just turned off the lights and sat on the edge of her bed, when she heard a noise. She took her gun from beneath the pillow and moved up against the wall, waiting.
The muffled sound of footsteps crept through the living room, and then onto the wooden planks leading toward her bedroom. Kate turned and braced herself in the doorway. “Asshole,” she shouted. “I’m a federal agent, and I’m armed.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” Brody’s voice carried through the quiet house.
Kate lowered the gun and grinned. “I should shoot you, you know.”
He reached for her and pulled her against his chest. “I know, but you won’t.”
“Can’t you just knock?”
He held her by the shoulders and looked down at her. “Now, how romantic would that be?”
“Excuse me?”
“This is kind of a repeat of the first time we met.”
Kate laughed. “Oh please, don’t remind me of that.”
“How about I remind you of a promise I made?”
“Promise?”
“Yeah, that tropical get away where we can get to know each other better.”
Her eyes widened. “I do remember that.”
Brody grinned, slipped an envelope from his pocket, and waved it in the air. “Well, I’ve got the tickets. Our flight leaves at eight in the morning.”
“I have to check with my boss and...”
“Screw it. Let Zoe take care of everything. I love you, Kate. Do you want to get married on a beach?”
“Married?” Oh my God!
He took something else from his pocket, “I also bought this.”
It was a small, black velvet box, and Kate knew what was inside. Her heart sped up, her stomach churned and breathing became impossible. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”
Brody shrugged. “I don’t want to be too predictable. But yeah. Will you marry me, Kate Stone?”
She felt her whole world expand and along with that, love seared her heart so deeply she felt the warm presence of hope.
“You’re pretty sure of yourself,” she said, with a smile. “I mean, the beach, the wedding, the ring. Kind of blows a girl away.”
Brody leaned down and nibbled her bottom lip. “My back up plan was to just kidnap you.”
She laughed. “Oh no, once was enough. We’re doing this my way. All you have to do is ask, and I’ll gladly marry you, Brody Hawke.
Brody put the ring on her finger and kissed her with all the love and passion she’d ever hoped for. When Brody had broken into her home and kidnapped her four months ago, how could she have ever imagined she’d be here now, in his arms and soon to be his wife?
Her mother’s dying words came back to her as she had cradled her mother’s hand while cancer chipped away at her body, her mom had whispered last one night, “Love always waits in the shadows.”
Losing Cassie
Book 2, Destiny’s Desire Series
By Kathy Ivan
Losing Cassie
Book 2, Destiny’s Desire Series
By Kathy Ivan
Copyright 2013 by Kathy Ivan
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
DEDICATION AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Seldom is the finished book an achievement of just one person. It takes many hands to take the ramblings of this author and make it into the complete book you are reading.
Special thanks to the Plotting Princesses, a wonderful group of talented Texas writers who offer me encouragement when I doubt, strength when I'm weak, and help me put one foot in front of the other when I stumble along the way. You ladies ROCK!
Stephanie Suesan Smith, Ph.D. Her sharp critical eye in editing, catching all my missing words and tense changes made this story so much richer. Thank you.
Last, but most importantly, my sister, Mary. The support and love you give me each and every day keeps me going. When I don't want to go and sit at the computer one more night, you provide the motivation to write one more page. Having you tell me you believe in me means more than these few words in an acknowledgement can express. Thank you.
Finally, to you, the reader. You're the driving force behind my writing. I love writing and telling stories and knowing you are reading them and waiting for the next one keeps me going. Thank you so much.
.
Prologue
New Mexico Territory, 1840s
The beautiful young girl stood defiantly before the shaman, arms folded across her chest, fury burning in her dark eyes. That she dared face him after her wrongdoing filled him with awe and no small bit of humor though the situation was grave indeed. Women didn't stand up to him, they were wary of his position in the great family. Seasoned warriors showed less courage of this lone female.
"What have you done, little one?" Wolf Who Walks spoke the words softly, no censure in his tone, only curiosity at her actions.
"I did what needed doing."
"That is no answer, child." Her eyes narrowed at his use of the word, though he meant no disrespect. To him she was a child. Barely twelve summers yet behind her eyes shone knowledge few within the great family could claim.
"I ask again, what have you done?"
She lowered her gaze, breaking eye contact as she drew in a shuddering breath. Lowering her head, she whispered, "I have righted a great wrong. My punishment should be swift and my life forfeited. I understood this before I took action."
Feet braced apart, she squared her shoulders and raised he
r chin, refusing to back down to his superior height or authority. Small and delicately formed, she reminded him of his fellow warriors. A heart of great courage resided in this small miracle, and again he marveled at her courage to stand before him without cowering. Within their tribe only their leader was more revered and feared than he.
"He is dead and I am not sorry. He was an evil monster, vile and cruel. If he stood before me right now I would kill him again."
Dead? Who is dead? What caused her, best friend to his daughter, this daughter of his own heart, to have killed?
"Why have you done such a thing, child? Stealing the soul of one of the great family . . ."
"I cannot tell." Her voice broke at the end of her words and he watched her straightened to her full height, bracing herself for whatever was to come. Wolf admired that strength in such a fragile female even as sorrow filled his heart.
There could be no excuse for killing a member of their family. All warriors were needed to protect the elders, the women and children and provide for the coming winter.
Wolf knelt before her, stooping down to eye level. He could read the fear in her dark brown eyes as well as her resolve. Brave, but foolish if she thought to deny him the truth.
He'd know Silver Dawn from the day she'd taken her first breath on entering this world. Losing her father and mother to fever when she'd been barely more than a baby herself, the village cared for her, helped with her raising.
"Take me to this man, Silver. Whoever he was, a warrior's body needs to be returned to his people.
She shivered at his words, the fine tremor ran through her small body, and she wrapped her arms around herself. "He was a bad man, Opa. Very bad."
Wolf blinked slowly at the nickname she spoke. It was the name she'd called him as a small child when she couldn't pronounce his formal title. A chill crept down his own spine as he realized for the first time his daughter wasn't with her best friend. Hands trembling, he slowly reached forward and ran his fingertip along her jawline, the briefest feather-light touch.
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