Grave Christmas Secrets by Sharee Stover

Author:Sharee Stover
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-08-09T20:46:18+00:00

NINE

Frantic to find Taya, Keegan was crawling out of his skin by the time he reached Orchard. His unending prayers for her protection, combined with gratitude for finding Bear in time, were countered with his nonstop pondering of the evidence.

Sadness and fury warred within him. He’d failed her.

Just like Patrice.

No. There would be plenty of time for self-loathing after he found Taya—alive. Whatever it cost, he’d make sure her life didn’t end the way Patrice’s had. He wouldn’t lose another woman he cared about.

Taya had grown on him in a way he hadn’t expected. Her intelligence combined with a sweet naivete was refreshing. Not that he’d pursue her, or that she’d want anything more than friendship with him.

How many times had he heard women didn’t want the uncertainty of their spouse coming home safely every night? He’d made the choice a long time ago to devote his life to the ATF and shied from relationships.

But Keegan reasoned that romance wasn’t what intrigued him about Taya. It was the duty to demonstrate all LEOs men weren’t like her dirtbag ex, Jeremy.

Although Folze’s kidnapping reinforced her beliefs about backstabbing cops.

Keegan had to restore her faith in law enforcement and prove that cowards like Folze and Jeremy weren’t the norm, but the exception. Redirecting his energy, he evaluated the facts.

Brando had lured Keegan away from the schoolhouse with the agreement to meet at the Camp, counting on his cronies to kill Keegan. He faced an army. One man against Brando’s mob made for impossible odds. But if his team was compromised, he’d be on his own anyway. Unable to reconcile whether it was safe to contact Hawk, Keegan held off.

He’d continue the mission alone.

For now.

His internal vows carried him the remaining distance. Folze’s home was located at the end of a dirt road on the corner of an immense cornfield. He approached slowly, turning off his headlight, and prepared for reconnaissance. Double-checking the address, Keegan confirmed he was in the correct—albeit rundown—place and parked behind the shelterbelt of trees on the north side.

With one last survey, he grabbed a flashlight from the console, slid from behind the wheel and crept around the pickup. No interior lights glowed from the house, and no vehicles were parked outside.

He stepped back, eyeing the dingy chipped siding in desperate need of replacement. The single garage door was missing, covered by wooden boards in varying shades of stain. Dead, overgrown weeds surrounded the walkway and climbed up the structure where missing shingles and haphazard storm drains gave the home a deserted appearance.

Keegan started with the closest of the three Quonset buildings.

Gun in hand, he made his way toward the metal structure, using shadows as cover. Frigid temperatures maintained remnants of packed down snow. Tire tracks led to the house and the dirt road peeked through sparse melted patches, indicating Folze had returned here sometime after the last snowstorm.

Keegan cleared the first two buildings—vacant minus aged farm equipment, blocks of hay, and a herd of feral cats—but a large padlock prevented entrance to the last.

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