by Karen Rock
A lightning bolt lit up the chalk gray sky.
Rain battered Nash’s clothes, and he swiped at water running in his eyes. He leapt across a mud puddle and clambered over a fallen tree without breaking stride.
“Halt or I’ll shoot!” Katherine shouted, bringing her gun up to eye level as her legs churned in a full-out sprint.
Jax ducked behind a rocky outcropping and disappeared.
“Faster!” Katherine kicked herself into another gear, pulling ahead of Nash, the blistering pace testing his stamina.
Bang!
A gunshot cracked in the darkening forest. He forced himself to keep running, to thrust himself in front of long-legged Katherine, who was in marathoner shape. A black tide of fear overwhelmed him. She acted like she was bulletproof, but she wasn’t wearing a vest.
The woods stilled around him save for the ominous rumble of thunder rolling through the wilderness. They dashed around a ledge and spotted Jax leaping down a small ravine.
“Stop or I’ll shoot,” hollered Katherine again, taking aim.
Jax whipped around and Nash instinctively grabbed Katherine’s shoulders and yanked her down as Jax fired. The bullet pinged off a boulder a hand’s length from her head. Undeterred, they sprang to their feet and returned fire, sprinting, their breaths coming in hard, fast gasps.
Jax fled deeper into the thicket. At this rate, they’d lose him or, worse, he’d hole up somewhere and shoot them as they approached. Nash surveyed the terrain and noticed the rocky outcropping angled up to a cliff running parallel with their path. If he could get ahead of Jax…
“I’m going up there!” he pointed to the spot and Katherine nodded, her eyes and gun trained on Jax as she doggedly chased down her target.
“I’ll corner him over that pass.”
“Got it!” He leapt across a gap and climbed onto the ledge. Perilously slick. His shoes had decent grip, but he’d have to watch his step. The rain now poured from the sky, plastering his hair to his face, blurring his vision. A lightning bolt struck the top of a distant pine. Gunfire echoed in the woods.
His heart stopped.
Where was Katherine?
He peered down and saw he’d passed her, but she was still on her feet, not injured. His breath whistled between his clenched teeth as he tore across the shale, clambering up its steep angle, barely holding on. Jax vanished into a thick green bramble just as Nash’s cliffside path ended.
No!
His chest surged. He did a quick sweep of his surroundings. The next ledge was over ten feet away. Could he make such a long jump? To protect Katherine, he’d have to try. A rapid round of shots rang out. Katherine ducked behind a tree, then popped out and returned fire in the direction where Jax had vanished. Had she cornered him?
Nothing was deadlier than a cornered animal.
And this one was a monster.
Nash leapt to a lower stretch of the cliff and continued sprinting without breaking pace. His muscles were hot, his lungs bursting. A flare in his ankle alerted him to an injury, but he had to keep going. Fight or flight. Run or die.
Below, Katherine burst from her hiding spot, gun blazing, moving to her next cover as swift and fluid as water, forcing Jax to retreat to the rocky ledge.
Adrenaline streaked through Nash’s veins. His legs pumped, and the rain thrashed at his eyes. As he built up speed, nervous exhilaration numbed the fire in his ankle. Just ahead, the cliff ended again and a three-story drop spread out to meet him. From this height, he spotted Jax below, behind a boulder, sighting Katherine down his gun barrel as she burst from her hiding spot.
Amafo’s voice rang in Nash’s ears, urging him on as he had on their survival lessons long ago: Knees toward your chest. Eyes on your landing spot. It was now or never. Nash pushed off his toes and launched himself over the precipice.
His body slammed into Jax’s just as his gun blasted. The bullet, intended for Katherine, flew skyward. Nash gripped Jax, whose limbs flailed with unexpected strength. They grappled on the muddy ground, rolling over and over, crashing through brush and puddles.
“Move again and this bullet goes through your brain!” Katherine hollered. Jax froze. Nash hauled back and punched Jax hard across the jaw with every bit of strength left in him.
Jax’s eyes rolled shut, and his head flopped to the ground.
Knockout.
“Nice work,” gasped Katherine, grabbing Jax’s gun before cuffing him.
“Nice?! You could have been killed.”
“So could you.”
“I had the higher ground.”
“Which made you more exposed.”
Huh. He hadn’t thought of that since he’d only been thinking of Katherine. Speaking of which…
He hauled her against him, reveling in the feel, the knowledge that she was safe and in one piece. Still bulletproof. “You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Thanks for backing me up.” Her glowing eyes were nearly ultraviolet. She smoothed a trembling hand over his wet cheek and relaxed in his arms briefly. After giving herself a little shake, she backed away.
“On your feet, Jax.”
At Nash’s command, Jax’s eyes fluttered open. A minute later, he was upright and lurching back to his cabin, swearing a streak as Katherine read him his rights. She grasped Jax by the elbow, in charge right until the end. Add courageous to the long list of traits he’d come to appreciate about Special Agent Katherine Bowden.
What a woman.
But was she the woman for him?
* * * *
Three hours later, Nash sat across from an exhausted Katherine in a BBQ joint. A honky-tonk tune played from a colorful jukebox straight out of a 1950s time capsule. On the checkered linen covering their small table rested baskets of wings, ribs, slaw, and fries.
“You didn’t have to wait for me after you gave your statement.” Katherine swished her straw through the ice at the bottom of her pop. “But I appreciate it.”
Nash signaled for another round of colas. “It’s selfish, too. I wanted to hear what Jax had to say.”
And assure himself, one last time, that she was safe.
Katherine made a face. “Not much. He’s been around the block and knows how to handle himself in an interrogation room. Pretty much stonewalled me for two and a half hours before lawyering up. Claimed he ran because he thought we were bringing him in for his warrant and doesn’t know any of the victims. When I asked him about his affair with Vivienne, he shut down and stopped talking.” She dipped a fry in ketchup and chewed it, her eyes distant. “I wish I’d had you to tag-team with me. We broke Billy down quick with our good cop–bad cop act.”
When a fleck of ketchup appeared on her cheek, Nash gently swiped it away, his hand lingering. “We make a good team.”
Her weary eyes warmed. “That we do. And what a collar. You jumped Jax so fast, he didn’t know what hit him. Bam!”
“You cuffed him. And cornered him.”
“Team effort.” Katherine smiled her thanks at the waitress when she passed over refilled colas.
Katherine’s phone vibrated. She snatched it up. “Bowden,” she said, her voice electric. “What do you have for me?”
She nodded as she listened, her mouth turning down in the corners. “I see. And how much of the Fuller’s property have you cleared? Uh-huh. Okay. Yes. No. I agree. Call it off if the weather’s making the work impossible and resume in the morning. We have Mr. Fuller on his assault warrant, so he’s not going anywhere. Thank you.”
After clicking off her phone, she shoved her food away.
“They haven’t found Layla or Brittany,” he said, more a statement than a question.
“The thunderstorms are supposed to get worse, and it’ll be dark in a couple of hours. It doesn’t make sense to continue the search. So far, no
ne of the buildings on the property have yielded anything.”
Nash reached across the table and slid his fingers into hers, squeezing. “We’ll find them.”
“What if we locate them too late? You saw what he puts his victims through.”
“He doesn’t want them to die until he’s ready. When we find Layla and Brittany, they’ll still be alive.”
She nodded glumly. “He’s got to confess. At least tell us where they are.”
“Do you have anything on him? Leverage?”
“We’re working with the North Carolina authorities—seeing if we can do something with the assault charges, but that’s not a real incentive—his assault charge gets reduced in exchange for confessing to murder?”
“Does he have an alibi for the nights of the disappearances?”
“Yes, but they don’t check out.”
“When I stopped in at work, the Dallas Heat dancers said he’d been lurking around the club for a few days after he was fired.”
“Sounds like he was scoping out the place. Picking his next victim…” She dropped her head to her cupped hands. “He’s our best lead. I can’t mess this up.”
“You won’t. Jax acts tough, but deep down he’s a weasel like some of the guys at the precinct. He’ll confess.”
Katherine lifted her face and her gaze sharpened. “Why do you think some of the officers are weasels?”
Nash cleared his throat, hedging. He’d overheard a few guys call Katherine ‘ice princess’ behind her back. If he ratted them out, he’d only make Katherine feel worse on an already stressful day. “Just my theory about insecure men having trouble relating to strong women.”
Katherine slid her thumb slowly along his palm. “You have no problem with handling strong women.”
Nash’s groin tightened. “Another wise deduction, detective. I’d prove your point right now if you’d let me.”
Her lips tipped upward in a flirtatious smile that stirred his blood. But beneath her grin, he glimpsed her worry over her current case. An idea popped into his head.
“How about this? Since there’s nothing more you can do until morning, let me take your mind off everything.”
“How?” She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow.
“Come to my grandfather’s birthday party tonight,” he asked, hating the thought of her going home alone.
“You said your grandfather lives on the Choctaw reservation, right?”
He nodded.
“That’s a two-hour drive.”
“We’d have to spend the night,” he said.
“Ah. Now I see where this is headed.”
“It’ll be innocent…mostly. Will you come with me, Katherine?”
The relief he felt when she nodded staggered him.
Did he want her to meet his family? He’d never asked anyone home before…
…then again, he’d never met anyone like Katherine.
Chapter Ten
“Amafo, this is my friend Katherine Bowden.”
Katherine smiled at the debonair older man seated at the decorated hall’s head table. “Happy birthday,” she said.
His smile was as welcoming as the rest of Nash’s tight-knit family. “Nice to meet you. Friend, did you say?”
Nash’s eyes zeroed in on Katherine’s and her skin blushed the color of her pink tank dress “Yes. Just friends.”
Katherine’s heart beat a little too fast, and while she tried to convince herself it was the residual effects of her adrenaline-fueled day, she knew it was more than that. Despite her demanding investigation, Nash had flitted through her mind more than he should.
Amafo peered at her from beneath a checkered fedora. “You can’t fool an old man. You’re the first woman Nash’s ever brought home. You’re important.”
She was the first woman Nash had introduced to his relatives? The thought pleased her. Did it mean something? Was he developing feelings for her, emotions she was feeling, too?
“Amafo worked in intelligence,” Nash said, not denying his great-grandfather’s assertion. If anything, he seemed intent on confirming it. One of his large hands stroked the bare skin exposed by her backless dress. “He was a code talker in World War II.”
“I see where your great-grandson gets his smarts.” Katherine sipped her sweet punch, hoping it’d cool her rising temperature.
In a fitted navy suit, white shirt, and a green patterned tie, Nash was dashing, sophisticated, and as debonair as his great-grandfather. She preferred him in layers of finely cut cloth. Imagining herself peeling away each piece kicked up her overactive imagination.
“Nash didn’t have the easiest life growing up,” Amafo said, his voice melodious, like a finely tuned instrument. “Made some mistakes. But he’s got a big heart, a strong spirit. In my day, they would have called him a catch.”
Katherine nodded, even though she didn’t need the reminder. Nash had handled himself well today with bold action, courage, and quick thinking. He’d had her back and made a great partner. Just as impressive were his sharp-eyed observations about her colleagues.
“Come dance with us, Nash!” pleaded a group of young girls.
He shot Katherine a laughing “help me” look, as he allowed himself to be dragged to the dance floor. To her shock, her hot stripper got down and funky doing the chicken dance. He snapped his fingers together, flapped his arms, and shook his fine ass along with the crowd.
Disarming and utterly endearing.
Just hours ago, he’d proved himself as tough as any agent. His goofy side showed he was also secure. Was he strong enough to handle a woman who would prioritize her job ahead of him?
Deeper still, would she ever achieve the balance she needed to give a man her equal attention? A man as magnetic as Nash might steal some of her attention from her demanding job…
“I want to live long enough to see Nash married. Don’t make this old man wait too long.”
“I-I-” Argh. What to say? She didn’t want to disappoint Nash’s great-grandfather by denying a connection.
Especially since it might be true…
At least physically.
But she didn’t dare get close to Nash emotionally.
Her eyes drifted to Nash, who now jigged to Cotton-Eye Joe, his moves whip fast and exaggerated. She giggled when he deliberately widened his eyes at her, looking like a deranged, dancing, rabid raccoon. The heaviness inside her lifted.
“Go join him. Have fun.”
When she glanced back at Amafo, he’d dropped his head backward and closed his eyes.
Fun. Another reason she’d agreed to come out tonight. She needed a reprieve from her case. Did she deserve it? She still hadn’t found Brittany, Katherine’s past stuck in painful replay mode. Yet she’d accomplished something tonight. A psychotic killer was now in custody. She needed to hold on to that when the mocking voice intruded. The ones she vowed to keep safe, Brittany Reins, Layla Pierce, were the faces she needed to remember when she woke from the nightmares. When the guilt rose in her throat, choking her.
She set down her drink, hugged a drowsy Amafo, then scampered onto the dance floor. Time to hit the pause button on her worries. They’d still be waiting for her in the morning where she’d left them. Tonight, she wanted to lose herself in the moment…in Nash.
Strong arms whirled her around and brought her tight against a hard, muscular body.
“Hello, beautiful.” His eyes smoldered with sexy promise. He brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a lingering kiss in the center of her palm.
“Hello,” she gasped.
“Get a room!”
A couple of teen boys guffawed and shoved them apart. Nash put them in a headlock.
“Hey!” they whined, struggling until Nash released them.
“And let that be a lesson to you,” he shouted after th
em with a boyish grin that stole her breath.
He was adorable. Lovable.
And she was falling for him.
God help her.
The music ended and Nash’s mom, whom Katherine had met earlier, spoke into a microphone. “We’re about to cut the cake, but first, I want to toast our wonderful Amafo, the head of our family and our hero.”
Nash squeezed Katherine’s hand, dashed to his great-grandfather’s side, and helped him walk to the dessert table.
“Nash’s come a long way,” someone spoke up beside Katherine. She turned and a middle-aged woman with a gray-streaked bob smiled at her. “I’m Nash’s aunt, June.”
“Katherine.”
Ignoring her extended hand, June hugged her. “I’m glad he’s finally found a nice girl.”
“Oh…um…we’re just…”
Another woman engulfed Katherine in a patchouli-scented hug. “You’re working together to find Deena Pierce’s girl, right? I’m Aunt Lynn.” Nash’s family were huggers, all right, as warm and affectionate as him.
“Yes. He’s been a big help.” The image of Nash’s daring leap flashed before her eyes. If not for his heroic move, she might have been shot—maybe even killed. It wasn’t something she ever allowed herself to dwell on: danger was part of her job, but now that she found herself enjoying life more, she began to see it as something precious, not so blithely put in jeopardy.
Nash’s effect on her?
“I’m glad he’s making something of himself at last,” Lynn clucked. “All the trouble he got into as a boy, then moving to Dallas to be a stripper. You don’t mind that, do you?”
The two women exchanged concerned glances as they raised glasses of punch with the crowd, toasting Amafo. An off-key version of the happy birthday song broke out, loud and heartfelt.
“No. I mean. It’s not my place to object. And he’s very successful.”
“At stripping?” asked June, dubious.
“Let’s just hope he’s better at taking off his clothes than calling bingo,” scoffed Lynn. “He’s dull as dirt, but don’t tell him we said that. He looks forward to it every Sunday and nobody wants to break his heart.”
