Her true identity is a secret

The next explosive Military K-9 Unit thriller

With his ex-wife next on a killer’s hit list, military police lieutenant Ethan Webb and his K-9 partner, Titus, must guard the woman posing as her. But courageous private investigator Kendra Bell refuses to be just bait—she wants to help bring down the killer. Can she play her part without falling for her pretend ex-husband?

DANA MENTINK is a national bestselling author. She has been honored to win two Carol Awards, a HOLT Medallion and an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She’s authored more than thirty novels to date for Love Inspired Suspense and Harlequin Heartwarming. Dana loves feedback from her readers. Contact her at danamentink.com.

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Rookie K-9 Unit

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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Top Secret Target

Dana Mentink

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08453-6

TOP SECRET TARGET

© 2018 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

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A shot whistled through the air. Kendra and Ethan hunkered low for cover.

“Anyone else you know who might be shooting at you?” Ethan asked.

“Could be anyone,” she said.

“You can play innocent with me, but I don’t think the marines are gonna be as warm and fuzzy.”

“If you think you’re warm and fuzzy,” she said, yanking the car’s back door handle, “then you’re pretty clueless.”

“We have to move. Shooter is going to change locations to get a better bead now that we’re pinned down.”

Kendra lugged Titus’s dog carrier out, and Ethan reached in to help. Another shot pinged the metal car roof, sending off sparks.

* * *

MILITARY K-9 UNIT:

These soldiers track down a serial killer with the help of their brave canine partners

Mission to Protect—Terri Reed, April 2018

Bound by Duty—Valerie Hansen, May 2018

Top Secret Target—Dana Mentink, June 2018

Standing Fast—Maggie K. Black, July 2018

Rescue Operation—Lenora Worth, August 2018

Explosive Force—Lynette Eason, September 2018

Battle Tested—Laura Scott, October 2018

Valiant Defender—Shirlee McCoy, November 2018

Military K-9 Unit Christmas—Valerie Hansen and Laura Scott, December 2018

Dear Reader,

What a pleasure and an honor to spend time writing about our men and women in the military and their fantastic canine partners. Of course, in order to enhance the suspense, some details were tweaked a bit, but it in no way diminishes the amazing service of the K-9s and their handlers. Mark Twain said, “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.” Titus, along with his real-life counterparts, has plenty of fight, courage and loyalty. Truly they are soldiers of the highest caliber.

In addition to their courage, dogs like Titus in this story have legendary detection skills. As hero Ethan Webb explains about his dog Titus, “You walk into a room and smell chili cooking... a dog walks in and smells each ingredient in the pot.”

In this story, Titus, Ethan and Kendra are up to their ears in trouble, attempting to track serial killer Boyd Sullivan and a stalker from Kendra’s past. As the threats mount, the three will learn to trust each other, and Kendra and Ethan will have to face their own troubled pasts as they begin to fall in love. I hope you enjoy their journey! I love to hear from my readers. If you’d like to connect with me, you can find me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. There is also a physical address on my website at www.danamentink.com if you prefer to correspond that way. God bless you, my friend!

Sincerely,

Dana Mentink

There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.

—Romans 8:1

To the men and women who serve bravely and selflessly, and to the families left behind who do the same.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

First Lieutenant Ethan Webb of the Air Force Military Police brushed past the startled aide standing in Colonel Masters’s outer office at Baylor Marine Corps Base.

“The colonel is—”

“Waiting for me,” Ethan snapped. “I know.” Lieutenant Colonel Terence Masters, Ethan’s former father-in-law, was always a step ahead of him, it seemed. Ethan and Jillian’s divorce had cemented the bad feelings. He led Titus, his German shorthaired pointer, into the office, found Masters seated in his leather chair behind the gleaming wood desk. Mahogany, he’d been told, nineteenth century. Hard lines, unyielding contours and pretentious, like the man who owned it.

“You’re late,” Masters said. “And I don’t want your dog in here.”

“With respect, sir, the dog goes where I go and I don’t appreciate you pressuring my commanding officer to get me to do this harebrained job during my leave. I said I would consider it, didn’t I?”

Masters gave him a smug smile. “A little extra insurance to help you make up your mind, Webb.”

Ethan glared. “It’s a bad idea, like I said before. Leave me alone to do my investigation with the team at Canyon, and we’ll catch Sullivan.” They were working around the clock to put away the serial killer who was targeting his air force brothers and sisters as well as a few select others, including Ethan’s ex-wife, marine naval aviator Lieutenant Jillian Masters. Boyd Sullivan was a killer with a flair for the dramatic, leaving a red rose as his grisly calling card, along with a note. “I’m coming for you.” He had earned his nickname, the Red Rose Killer.

“Your team,” Masters said with a nasty inflection on the first word, “hasn’t gotten the job done and this lunatic has threatened my daughter. There have been sightings near our base indicating he’s zeroing in on her. You’re going to work for me privately, protect Jillian from Sullivan, draw him out and catch him, as we’ve discussed. We’re playing offense here, rather than defense. It’s a Marines thing, son. Maybe you airmen can’t understand, but we like to face our enemies head-on.” He steepled his fingers on the desktop.

Ethan fought to keep the anger from balling his hands into fists. Masters loved his games. Now he held the stick and Ethan was the bear about to be poked. “So you think I’m going to pretend to be married to Jillian again and that’s going to put us in the perfect position to catch Sullivan? A couple of sitting ducks waiting to be shot?”

Masters stared at him. “You’re going to prevent that, remember?”

He shoved a hand through his crew cut hair, striving for control. “This is lunacy. I can’t believe you’re willing to use your daughter as bait.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’ve decided it’s too risky for Jillian and that’s why I hired this girl. This is Kendra Bell.” He gestured to someone in the doorway.

The civilian woman stepped into the office and Ethan could only stare at her. That creamy skin, that curtain of red hair skimming her face... Shock ripped through him like rifle fire.

“You’re...” He shook himself slightly and tried again. “I mean... You look like...”

“Your ex-wife,” she finished. “I know. That’s the point.”

He swallowed hard and peered closer and the truth assembled itself as the surprise ebbed away. They did resemble each other, this woman and Jillian—same build, same eye color, same tint of hair.

She shot a distrustful look at Titus, and raised an eyebrow in Ethan’s direction. “If you’re finished staring...?”

He gulped. His mama would have boxed his ears to know he’d been ogling, but honestly, the resemblance was mind-blowing. Heat climbed up his neck.

“People used to mistake us for each other in high school,” she said. “Sullivan’s going to make the same error, and that’s how I’ll catch him, without your interference.”

“My interference?”

She ignored him, turning to Masters. “You neglected to tell me, when I agreed to the job, about this scheme to involve Lieutenant Webb.”

“I sent you a follow-up email,” Masters said.

“Uh-huh.” She folded her arms across her body. “Anything else you failed to mention, Colonel?”

Ethan tore his gaze away and locked eyes with Masters. “This wasn’t part of the plan I heard, either.”

“Yes, it was. I just didn’t tell either one of you all of the pertinent facts.”

Ethan blew out a breath and shook his head. “No way. Working with Jillian would be bad enough, but at least she’s a marine, not a civilian, and she knows how to protect herself.”

“So can I,” Kendra said. “I’m a licensed PI, with a real gun and everything.”

He cast her a doubtful look and started to answer, but Masters cut him off. “You will pretend to be newly reconciled husband and wife.”

“No one will believe that,” Ethan said.

“Yes, they will. I’ve already started the gossip wheels turning here and at Canyon that you two are an item. Posted an old picture of you two on a few key military networking sites.”

Ethan gaped. “You...”

“And when Sullivan comes for Kendra thinking she is my daughter, you will catch him before any harm comes to Jillian.”

“And what about the harm that might come to her?” Ethan snapped, jerking a thumb in the civilian’s direction.

Kendra glared at him. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. Like I said, I can take care of myself. Before I was a PI I worked as a bounty hunter, and there’s plenty of excitement in that job, let me tell you. I don’t need, or want, your help on this case.”

His cheeks went hot again. “That’s A-OK by me, because I’m not offering it. We’re not working together. I’m out of here.” He stalked to the door, his dog at his heels.

“Lieutenant,” Masters bellowed. “You will not walk out on me.”

Ethan turned and fired a glance at Masters. “I’m not one of your marines, Colonel, nor am I your son-in-law anymore, so with all due respect to your rank...” He let the slam of the door fill in the rest.

* * *

Kendra felt the crackle of energy leave the room along with Ethan Webb and his dog. She had recognized him from the file Colonel Masters had sent, but in person he was more impressive. The guy could be on a recruiting poster. Dark hair, eyes like coffee with a hint of cream, six feet of muscle and barely concealed annoyance, and a Southern drawl that thickened in proportion with his anger. His arrival had thrown her off her game. Time to get the meeting back under control.

Calm, cool and collected, she told herself. Nothing you can’t handle. But it was hard to brush off the unsettling scene she’d just been part of, and more important, the text message she’d gotten that morning just before she’d dumped her cell and gotten herself a new number.

You’re dead.

No further explanation needed. Andy, her ex-boyfriend, recently released from prison, where she’d sent him, had wasted no time starting up the threats. She’d escaped his sick world, but not for long.

Deal with that issue later, Kendra, she told herself. Sullivan was her target, and Ethan’s abrupt departure was an advantage. Now she had the chance to try to persuade the colonel that she did not need any help catching the Red Rose Killer before he murdered anyone else in this part of Texas. Temporarily leaving her tiny office in Colorado, the place she’d fled after her disastrous time in Texas with Andy, the job was an answer to her prayer, the only way she could both settle her debt to Jillian Masters. She would complete the mission much easier without a second party in the picture, especially Jillian’s ex.

She expected the colonel to be furious at Ethan’s disrespect, but to her great surprise, he chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

“Hasn’t changed a bit. He’ll cool off and come around.”

“How do you figure?”

“He’s one of those Southern gentlemen types. Don’t let his lazy Tennessee drawl fool you. He’s smart as a fox and he’s proud and hotheaded, but he can’t walk away from a lady in distress.”

“I’m not in distress.”

“Not yet.” The colonel smiled—a cold, calculating smile—like a tiger sizing up its prey. Her stomach tensed. She did not need another ruthlessly determined man in her life, but she had the feeling she’d just been saddled with two of them.

* * *

Ethan headed to the parking lot with Titus. He yanked open the truck door for the dog and got in himself, clenching the steering wheel, wondering how he’d lost control of his life. There was absolutely no reason he should be doing the bidding of his devious former father-in-law, and now to find out he’d be partnered with a civilian of all things. Why had he accepted the request that bordered on a command? Ethan was a member of the Air Force Military Police, not property of the Marine Corps.

Masters’s previous words echoed in his mind. Jillian needs you.

That was rich. His ex-wife didn’t need him and never had. Sure, she was under threat from serial killer Boyd Sullivan along with a list of others who’d crossed him, but the investigative team Ethan was a part of would catch him. Besides, Jillian was a woman who could take care of herself—ruthless, determined and entirely self-absorbed. She’d been offered protection after Sullivan killed two K-9 handlers at Canyon Air Force Base, including Ethan’s best friend, Airman Landon Martelli. He’d also murdered Chief Master Sergeant Clint Lockwood in the same killing spree. She’d declined the protection in spite of the risks. No surprise there.

Sullivan’s not smart enough to hurt me, she’d said. Typical.

Yet all of a sudden Jillian had just gone along with her father hiring a look-alike as bait? Insane. He slammed a hand on the steering wheel. Titus regarded him from the passenger seat, head cocked, ears flopping as if to say, “What’s going on?”

In the six years they’d trained, lived and served together, including their last deployment to Afghanistan, Titus could read Ethan better than any other living creature. And now that they shared a living space, the bond had grown stronger. Sullivan’s break-in at Canyon Air Force Base had had other disastrous results besides the deaths of human personnel. Sullivan had let loose nearly two hundred dogs from the Military Working Dogs training center. Twenty-eight of them had yet to be found.

Ethan had been given special permission to keep Titus with him instead of at the kennel until the repairs could be done and security assured.

That was fine by Ethan, as he was cross-training Titus as a cadaver detection dog in addition to his patrol duties. The more time they spent together the better. Plus, military dogs were more than just animals, they were partners. And he had to be sure his partner was protected. Titus had his back and Ethan returned the favor.

“I’ve gotta talk this nutty lady out of standing in for Jillian before she gets herself killed,” he muttered.

Titus flapped his ears and settled back into the seat.

Preparing his most convincing argument for Kendra, he waited for her to exit the office. He was surprised when she stepped out lugging some sort of small animal carrier. He started to exit the vehicle to talk to her, but she loaded the carrier and slid behind the wheel of her car so quickly he didn’t have the chance. As she drove by, he caught her profile, her long red hair now captured in a tight twist at the nape of a graceful neck, a spray of freckles across the nose. His stomach dropped. So like Jillian. Anger choked him, and hurt speared through him as sharp as it had been the day he’d finally understood how his wife had betrayed him, repeatedly, and he’d been nothing but gullible and blind to it. What a sap. Dense as his aunt Millie’s fruitcake.

“Let it go,” he commanded himself. “You’ve been divorced for three years. She’s not your problem anymore.” He decided that with his current state of mind it was best not to head back to Canyon until he got his anger under control and then sorted out how to get Kendra Bell out of the picture.

He pulled out of the parking lot and took the back road off the Marine base, bathed in shadows from the trees that broke up the buttery June sunlight. Unseasonably hot, people were saying, which made him laugh. After returning from Afghanistan, where the temps could top 115 degrees before noon, he’d never complain about the Texas heat again.

Titus seemed to feel the same, stretched out to catch the sunshine, enjoying the moments free from enemy sniper fire and the constant tension born of living in a war zone. Titus was a top-notch patrol dog, sniffing out hidden insurgents and intruders at checkpoints, and he was taking easily to his new training in cadaver detection. The animal’s incredible abilities never ceased to boggle Ethan’s mind. God knew what He was doing when he made dogs.

The miles rolled by along with his thoughts until he was surprised to catch up to Kendra as she headed into a curvy, wooded section of road. A slow and careful driver, unlike the woman she resembled. The bumper of her car disappeared around a turn and gunfire ripped through the air, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Adrenaline exploded through his body as he floored the accelerator, stopping just in time to see Kendra’s vehicle skid off the road and down the slope. He pulled the truck behind a pile of rocks and dialed both 911 and Masters’s direct line. Titus went rigid, ears erect, nose twitching, waiting for a signal from Ethan. Messages delivered, there was no more time to spare. Kendra might be badly injured.

Clipping on Titus’s lead, he unlocked the box from under his seat and slipped the handgun in his belt. Slamming the door, he sprinted toward the edge where her car had gone over, praying the sniper’s bullets had not found their target.

* * *

Was Sullivan making his move already? Kendra fought the bucking steering wheel after the last shot had taken out the front tire. Then again, she had another enemy hot on her trail. She didn’t know that Andy was a good enough shot to take out a tire, but he was skilled at many other means of inflicting pain. Whether it was Sullivan or Andy didn’t really matter at the moment. She battled for control of her vehicle, but there was no time. The car bumped and jolted, skidding sideways toward the trees. “Hold on, Baby,” she shouted to the elderly cat tucked in his back seat carrier. Her words were lost in the jolt of the chassis as it smacked against the rocky ground. Thick tree trunks flashed past the windows as the car flew down the slope, gravity overwhelming the brakes. The front fender slammed into a pile of rocks so hard it snapped her neck back and drove the breath out of her. For several seconds all she could do was cling to the steering wheel, wondering why the airbag hadn’t deployed.

“Baby?” she finally croaked. “Are you okay?”

With a painful effort, she unbuckled her seat belt, grabbed her Glock and turned to peer over the headrest into the back seat. Her heart pounded at what she might find in the cat carrier.

Please, God, don’t let Baby be dead. I know I don’t deserve to ask You for anything, not one thing, but I’m asking anyway. The silence from the rear of the car galvanized her into action.

Shoving an elbow at the door, she forced it open, tumbling to her knees on the rocky ground. Pain in her ribs made her gasp but she pulled herself up and grabbed the rear door handle.

The crunch of footsteps made her draw back.

Sullivan or Andy?

Andy’s last voice mail message echoed in her ears. When I finally catch up to you, I am going to enjoy killing you slowly.

She gritted her teeth. If he was going to kill her today, she’d make sure it would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.

The sounds drew nearer. Her mind sought options. Flag someone down? Ethan had been behind her for a while, she’d noticed, but she’d lost sight of him a few miles back. Incredibly, she heard no traffic at all on this back road out of the Baylor Marine Corps Base. She reached for her cell phone when she heard a whispered voice.

“Kendra?”

The voice didn’t belong to Andy, that was certain. This voice was a low baritone, complete with a Tennessee drawl. Ethan. She let out a slow breath.

“I’m coming over to you,” he continued, “so don’t do anything crazy like shoot me.”

She kept silent, gripping the Glock and training the gun toward the direction of the shots. Ethan rounded the corner with a dog at his side. The pointer immediately stiffened, ears erect.

“I don’t like dogs,” she snapped.

“That’s okay. He probably doesn’t like you, either. Cops and marines should be on their way.”

“What are you doing here?” She shot a look at the animal still in alert position. A patrol or scout dog, she suspected.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe we can do the pleasantries later? After the cavalry arrives?”

She would have retorted, but a shot whistled through the air and they hunkered low for cover.

“Sullivan doesn’t usually do his dirty work in public,” he said over his shoulder, peering in the direction of the shooter. “Anyone else you know who might shooting at you?”

“Could be anyone,” she said, earning another exasperated look.

“You can play innocent with me, but I don’t think the marines are gonna be as warm and fuzzy.”

“If you think you’re warm and fuzzy,” she said, yanking the back door handle, “then you’re pretty clueless.”

He put out a hand to stop her. “Leave it. We have to move. Shooter is going to change locations to get a better bead now that we’re pinned down.”

She ignored him, pulling harder on the door, which opened with a reluctant groan.

He grabbed her forearm. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Hearing and listening are two different things.”

A shot drilled the rear window, sending glass rocketing in all directions. They both ducked.

“You’re really stubborn,” he said, but she was already lugging the animal carrier out of the car, and he reached in to help.

Another shot pinged the metal car roof, sending off sparks.

“Come on,” he said, taking her arm and propelling her toward the shrubbery.

It was all she could do to hold on to the carrier.

“I thought MPs were supposed to stand their ground,” she huffed.

“We do, but this isn’t my ground and I happen to be saddled with an irrational civilian.”

So much for warm and fuzzy.

He pushed her ahead of him, and he and the dog took up position right behind her as another volley of shots bored into the tree just above their heads.

TWO

Ethan put as many sturdy tree trunks between them and the shooter as he could. His mind churned faster than his feet. Had Sullivan finally snapped and changed his tactics to include daylight ambushes? It was possible. Sullivan wasn’t much of a shot, he happened to know, and this gunman was all over the place. Two more bullets whistled by, the last a wild one that lost itself in the tree branches. Sirens were converging from all directions. The marines would be responding, and the local police. With that many guns and that much adrenaline pumping, he figured their safest option was to stay still, very still. He put Titus into a sit.

“Stay put,” he told the woman. “Marines are here.”

The Jillian look-alike stood with her back to a tree, her arms curled around the animal carrier. Now that he got a close look without a couple of feet between them, he could see that her mouth was fuller than Jillian’s, the hair more auburn than copper, the spray of freckles more subtle, but still...uncanny.

“Still staring?” she demanded.

He flushed. “How do you know Jillian?”

A flash of emotion crossed her face, indicating that whatever her connection was to Jillian, it was a strong one. Then the expression disappeared and she shrugged. “Friends.”

His instincts went berserk, as if he was inches from stepping into a trip wire, but he had to know. “You’re a pretty good friend to paint a target on your back.”

She flashed a smile this time as she pointed to several armed marines scurrying down the slope, geared up for battle. “I think that conversation is going to have to wait.”

She was right. The marines were in no mood for chatting. Once they ascertained that Kendra and Ethan were not the bad guys, they searched the area until the police arrived, finding no sign of the shooter.

One marine approached them. “Hey, Airman. Heard you slammed the door on Colonel Masters an hour ago.”

Ethan grinned at the marine police captain, friends from the time their deployments overlapped. “News travels fast, Hector.”

MP Marine Captain Hector Sanchez squashed his smile and regarded the woman next to him intently. “Your name, ma’am?”

“Kendra. I had a meeting on base with Lieutenant Colonel Terence Masters.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Pertaining to?”

“Ask him, if you want to know.”

“Due respect, ma’am, but we’re not in the mood for coy around here.”

Ethan wasn’t, either. He was in the mood for a little rest and recuperation before he threw himself back into the Red Rose Killer investigation. Now that he was working for Masters, the situation was changing from bad to atrocious. The good news was Kendra would have to come to her senses now and tell Masters she was quitting.

Hector greeted the arriving police officer and they launched into an intense conversation. The US Marines did not like having to relinquish any authority to the local cops, but the shooting was not technically on base property. The cop, whose name tag read Alonso Carpenter, drew Ethan and Kendra aside. He was a tall man, almost as tall as Ethan, with a narrow chin and skin tanned from the sun.

“We need to have a talk back at the station with you both, to document all the details,” he said.

“It this really necessary?” Kendra’s arms were still wrapped around the carrier as if she was holding on to a life preserver. “I’m sure Colonel Masters—”

“Masters,” Carpenter said, with a certain something in his voice, “is not the boss on this side of the fence.”

Ethan caught the grin on Hector’s face. He realized he was sporting the same smug smile on his own. Masters always got what he wanted one way or another by whatever means necessary. It was nice to know the local police did not jump when he snapped his fingers.

He wanted nothing more than to head back to his apartment at Canyon Air Force Base and forget the whole nutty plan, but perhaps Masters’s scheme would actually draw Boyd out. It was possible the shooting had been Sullivan’s work. But something still didn’t feel right. Sullivan was not the type to take shots from the bushes. His killings were up close and personal. Ethan’s stomach tensed thinking of how Sullivan had snuffed out the life of his friend Landon Martelli. Landon hadn’t even had a chance to defend himself.

If it wasn’t Sullivan, then who else might want Kendra dead and why? He shook away the thought. Not your problem, Webb. He wasn’t going to work with Kendra Bell only to see her become another victim of Sullivan’s, and he intended to force her to see reality one way or another. The best thing for her would be to get away from this part of Texas, and especially from Masters.

Kendra walked by him and slid into a waiting police car. She did not flash him a glance, just bent her head and cooed to the bony white cat she’d removed from the carrier.

He could see that her profile wasn’t exactly a match for Jillian’s; her nose was smaller, the cheeks softer and there was more delicacy about this woman than his ex-wife. Her hair looked soft, as if it would be silky under his fingertips.

He brought those thoughts sharply to heel, calling to Titus, who had been nosing along at the tufts of grass. A moment later the cat caught sight of Titus and mewed in fright.

Startled, Titus barked loud enough to make Ethan’s ears ring. The cat erupted from Kendra’s arms and streaked away into the woods.

“Baby,” Kendra screamed, leaping from the car. She fired an angry look at Ethan. “Can’t you control your brute of a dog?” she said before she ran away in search of the cat.

“What?” he said dumbly to her back.

“She said, ‘Can’t you control your brute of a dog?’” Officer Carpenter said and Ethan detected a look of enjoyment in the man’s eyes.

Ethan huffed out a breath and shot a glare at Titus. The dog blinked and looked away as if to say, “Sorry, but it was a cat, after all.” Then he noticed the officer was heading into the shrubbery.

“Aren’t you taking her to the station?” Ethan called.

Carpenter chuckled. “Son, I’ve been married twice and I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two. I think I can safely say that Ms. Bell isn’t going anywhere without that cat.”

“Does that mean I can go and you’ll call me when you’re ready to talk to me?”

Carpenter raised an eyebrow. “No, that means you and Wonder Dog are going to comb every inch of this property until you locate the cat, Airman.” He turned his back and left Ethan and Titus standing there.

Ethan turned to his dog. “This is your fault, you know.”

Titus licked Ethan’s hand.

“Don’t try to act all cute now. Get into those bushes and find the cat you just bullied.”

Titus put his nose to the ground and got to work.

* * *

Kendra’s cheek was scratched from a low-lying branch and her feet were aching since she was wearing ballet flats instead of hiking boots. It didn’t hold a candle to the pain inside her. Baby was gone. The sun was low in the sky and there was still no sign of the old cat.

The cop had trudged back to the car after she’d promised to follow in five more minutes. With each second her breathing grew more panicky, sweat making her palms clammy. Ethan and Titus continued to prowl through the bushes, but even the dog could not seem to catch a scent of Baby.

Ethan clumped out of the bushes, wiping sweat from his brow, and faced her. “Uh, I’m sorry your cat ran away,” he said, not exactly looking her in the eye.

She rounded on him. “She didn’t run away. Your dog scared her.”

Now he turned eyes the color of melted chocolate in her direction. “Look, I’m really sorry, okay? I’ll keep searching, or maybe I can get you another cat.”

“Another cat?” she snapped, fury taking her breath away. “And if Titus there got lost, you’d just give up on him and get another dog?”

“No way, but Titus is a dog. I mean, uh, what I meant was, you know, cats can take care of themselves.”

She stared at him, tears pricking her eyes. “For your information, Baby can’t. She’s sixteen and she’s in poor health. She’s been the only one...” She swallowed hard. There was no way she was going to unload all of her big fat messed-up life at the feet of this insensitive blockhead. “Never mind.” She stalked past him, but he grasped her arm, his fingers strong but gentle.

“Hey, wait. I’m sorry. I was being a jerk. I’ve only been back a couple of months and I think I’m rusty at some things. I know the cat means a lot to you.” His gaze was soft, or maybe it was a trick of the failing sunlight. Either way, she couldn’t answer over the thick lump in her throat.

“I...” He sighed and shook his head, letting her go. “I lost a dog before Titus to a grenade. It hurts, no matter how you lose them. I, um, I’ll keep looking. Give me your cell phone number and I’ll text you if...I mean, when I find her, okay?”

Still unsure of her powers of speech, Kendra managed to give Ethan her cell number and programmed his into her phone.

“Ms. Bell?” Officer Carpenter called. “It’s time to go.”

She raised her chin and blinked hard, fighting for composure as she allowed the cop to usher her into his car.

Sitting next to the empty carrier, she was overwhelmed by the thoughts that she’d been blotting out the last few hours. Someone—maybe Andy, maybe the Red Rose Killer, maybe none of the above—had tried to kill her. That was not a new experience for a private investigator and a former bounty hunter, but this person had gotten very close to getting the job done. Muscles deep in her belly began to quiver.

And now Baby, the only creature in the world whom she loved and who loved her back, was gone, lost in the woods, an old cat, easy prey. She squeezed her hands together to stop the shaking.

You’ll find her, she told herself savagely. Right after the police interview you’ll come back and you’ll find her. Baby had chosen somewhere to hide, that was all.

Lord, she prayed, bring Baby back and help us both find a place like that.

As they drove through the shadows, her newfound faith was not enough to screen out the memory of the bullets fracturing the windshield, boring into the trees.

She was just like the cat. Easy prey.

THREE

After hours of fruitless searching Ethan made it back to Canyon Air Force Base. He’d done his best, but there was simply no sign of the cat. Titus was ready for a cold drink of water and some grub and so was he. Maybe in the morning...

As he unloaded Titus from the truck, they both caught the sound of whimpering coming from the bushes in his front yard. Titus dashed toward the foliage, tail wagging. Ethan followed, getting down on his knees as the soft cries turned into full-blown yips.

Titus was nose to nose with a gangly puppy, a Malinois with pointy ears and a dark muzzle. The ears were erect and the tongue was out, busily bathing Titus.

“Hey, fella,” Ethan said. “How did you get here?” He was close enough now to see that the puppy was wearing a filthy training center collar.

Ethan’s throat constricted. It was one of the animals that had been let loose by Boyd Sullivan when he killed the two K-9 trainers and left his signature red rose calling card. With Titus’s encouragement, he coaxed the dog to come out. It didn’t take much, as the poor critter was clearly weak and terrified. The pup was skinny, his ribs protruding. He smelled of garbage, which was where he’d probably been scrounging for food to stay alive for so long. Ethan noted a long gash in the dog’s side. His anger at Sullivan kindled fresh and hot. How could a guy who’d once wanted to become a K-9 trainer let hundreds of dogs loose to be injured or worse? But Sullivan’s twisted sense of revenge didn’t stop there. He’d killed a commissary cook a few miles from base, and some of those in his basic training flight group had received roses and threats...including Jillian.

Ethan poured some water from a bottle into his cupped palm and the dog lapped at it eagerly while Titus gave him a thorough sniffing. Wrapping the pup in his jacket, Ethan ignored the growling in his stomach and loaded both dogs into the truck.

In twenty minutes he was pulling up to the K-9 training center. He’d called Master Sergeant Westley James and his new wife, base photographer Staff Sergeant Felicity James, on the way. At the entrance to the training yard, Westley waited, a head taller than the petite Felicity, his face grave.

“Another one found,” Felicity said, cooing to the puppy. “He’s skin and bones. I’ll get him to the clinic.”

Westley shook his head. “If I could just get a lead on Sullivan...”

“You and everyone else,” Ethan said. “We’re all hoping to be the one that brings him down.”

“And his accomplice,” Felicity added. “He isn’t doing all these things without help.”

Someone was helping Sullivan certainly, but the list of suspects shifted constantly, and the team assembled to track down the killer was growing more and more frustrated.

Trainer Rusty Morton rushed over, tossing the rag he’d been using on the ground. “Oh, man. Is that Rocket? I heard he’d been sighted on and off in the woods and raiding garbage cans. I left out food and water where they said they’d spotted him.” He leaned over to stroke the dog’s ears tenderly. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, buddy.”

Puzzlement played across Felicity’s face as she handed the dog into Rusty’s arms. “Hang on to him for a minute while I alert the vet, okay?”

Ethan shared her uncertainty. Rusty was on the list of Sullivan’s potential accomplices, under scrutiny from the investigation team as he’d been a friend of Boyd Sullivan’s during their basic training days.

But Ethan saw tears shining in the guy’s eyes. They weren’t fake, he was certain. That contradicted Ethan’s earlier suspicions. He made a note to mention it to the investigative team leader Captain Blackwood. Surely a guy who loved dogs as much as Rusty wouldn’t have helped Sullivan let the animals loose, would he?

Ethan thought about his friend Landon. Man, he missed talking to him about anything and everything.

“You okay?” Felicity asked.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Just thinking about Martelli.”

“We miss him, too,” she said quietly.

Ethan’s phone rang and he moved away to answer it, Titus roaming the enclosed yard.

“Heard you got into some trouble near Baylor, Lieutenant,” Justin Blackwood said. He was a captain in the Security Forces and a veteran of two tours of duty in Afghanistan, which gave him stellar credentials in Ethan’s book, the perfect guy to be the leader of the team trying to hunt down Boyd Sullivan. “Was the shooting Sullivan’s work?”

“Uncertain, sir. Doesn’t seem like his MO.” Ethan felt the tension crackling through the phone.

“I wouldn’t rule it out completely. Sullivan was spotted near Baylor Marine Corps Base hours prior to your shooting incident.”

Ethan’s pulse ticked up a notch as Blackwood continued.

“A marine has been killed off base, his uniform and ID are gone.”

Ethan’s stomach dropped at the news of another murder. And now Sullivan had access to the base and Kendra. Perhaps the shooting really was a case of mistaken identity?

“We’ve got our hands full on this case,” Blackwood said. “I know you’d rather be doing anything other than working with Jillian and Masters, but maybe you can find that lead we’re all looking for.”

“I’ll do what I can, sir,” he said.

“Fair enough. Keep me posted.”

“Yes, sir,” Ethan said, disconnecting.

His eyes landed on Rusty as he cooed to the pup, who looked half-starved in the training center lights. Immediately he thought about Kendra cradling the pet carrier, tears glistening in her eyes, knowing her cat was lost like Rocket had been.

Your fault, Ethan.

On impulse, he sent her a text.

Did you find your cat?

Should he add something like another apology? An “I hope so” or something to soften it?

“I’m glad to have Rocket returned,” Westley said. “But there are still plenty of dogs on the loose as well as a serial killer.” He looped a protective arm around Felicity’s shoulders.

A text materialized on Ethan’s cell phone screen.

No.

He imagined Kendra’s lip caught between her teeth, a sheen of moisture in those brown eyes, the same brown as the glossy acorns that festooned the trees on his mother’s property back home.

She’s been the only one... Kendra had said of Baby, and he thought he had an inkling about the rest. The only one to understand, to listen to the painful things that could not be spoken to human listeners, the only one who did not judge, did not condemn. He got it. Titus had heard more about Ethan’s life story than anyone, except for the One who’d seen him through it.

He nodded to Felicity and Westley. “Okay. Thanks for taking care of Rocket. I’ve got to get on the road.”

“Where to?” Felicity asked him.

“Back to Baylor.”

She quirked a look at him. “That’s a three-hour drive. Didn’t you just get back from there?”

“Yeah,” he said, with a weary sigh. But I’ve got to go find a cat.

* * *

Kendra had finally returned to Jillian’s rented home just outside base property somewhere after 7:00 p.m. It would be a short break to wolf down a granola bar and rehydrate. Then five minutes to change clothes and grab her pack and then she would search again for Baby. It was only another hour until sunset. Her stomach churned into nausea.

“Hang on, sweetie. I’m coming to get you.”

A knock at the door startled her. She pulled the curtain aside a crack. Ethan Webb stood on the doorstep, arms crossed, expression stony.

What now? She had no time for another row with him. She yanked the door open, staring him down. “Come to apologize?”

He quirked a brow. “For what?”

“Disrespecting me in front of my boss. Scaring my cat.”

“Disrespecting...” He rubbed a hand over his tanned face. “Whatever. We just have one piece of business left and then I’m hoping you’ll see reason and quit this job.”

She shook her head.

“You can’t trust Masters,” he said. “Get away from him as quick as you can. This situation is only going to get you hurt or killed.”

“Thanks for your concern, but you didn’t have to drive over here to tell me that. I’ve known Jillian for fifteen years so I’m well aware that her father is a manipulative man with no ethics.”

He gaped. “Then why would you work for him?”

Because I owe his daughter my life. She shrugged. “Not your business, but thanks for dropping by.”

“So you’re still going to persist in acting as a decoy for Sullivan?”

“Yes.”

His lips thinned, his nostrils flared and he started to speak, stopped, then started again, folding his arms across his broad chest.

Amused, she folded her arms to mirror his. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Wait here,” he snapped.

She was about to respond when he stalked to his car. Titus sat in the passenger seat, ears alert, snout poking through the open window. He reached into the back and returned with a blanket, pushing the bundle into her arms.

Her heart stopped at the sight of Baby, mewing plaintively. She could not hold back the tears that filled her eyes as she snuggled the cat under her chin. “You found her.”

He shrugged. “Cost me a couple hours of searching and a million mosquito bites, but yeah. Baby’s back. Titus was not thrilled about sharing his vehicle with a cat, but he’s grounded so he doesn’t get to complain about it.”

She laughed. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“You can call me Ethan,” he said. “I guess we’ll be stuck in this idiotic mission together if you won’t listen to reason.” With a sigh, he started to walk away.

“Wait.” She put a hand on his shoulder, muscles hard under her touch, and he turned back halfway. “I’m sorry for my rudeness. I really do appreciate what you did, more than I can put into words. Baby is...so much more than just a cat to me.”

She thought his cheeks might have pinked a bit, but she could not tell for certain. He blew out a breath and he turned to face her fully.

“I’m serious here. I know we got snarled up in the beginning, but Masters is trouble and so is his daughter. Neither of them cares who gets hurt, so long as they get what they want. You are expendable and so am I, do you get that?”

If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she saw a deep-down pain shimmer in his eyes before he cleared his throat. She nodded. “I understand.”

His gaze lingered, poring over her face from under a thick fringe of lashes. “Okay, well, it’s late,” he said. “We can work out the nuts and bolts tomorrow. Call if you need...you know...anything.”

He hesitated.

“Something else you wanted to say?” she said.

He held up his palms. “Now don’t get a burr under your saddle about it, but did you check the house? Make sure the doors and windows are secure?”

She grimaced, wishing she could have answered yes. “Um, actually, I was in such a hurry to go searching for Baby, I didn’t. I’m sure Jillian checked before she left.” Some PI you are, Kendra.

“Want me to...?”

“No,” she said firmly. “I can handle it, thank you.”

“All right, then.” He walked the few steps to his truck, where he leaned against the front fender. “Just wave at me when you get it done and I’ll scoot.”

“You always this pushy?”

“I’m as calm as clam shells on most days, but when there’s a serial killer roaming around, I get a little testy.”

Though his posture was relaxed, long legs stretched out, boots crossed at the ankles, she had a feeling he would stay there until she reported that the house was secure. Period.

“I’ll just be a minute.” Blowing out a breath she made a quick check of the tiny front room and the kitchen, depositing Baby on the linoleum with a bowl of water and some kitty kibble. It warmed her insides to see Baby chowing down with gusto. She felt a deep surge of gratitude toward Ethan that, for the moment, outweighed her frustration with him.

Kendra moved onto a small bedroom being used as a study. The area was sparse, minimally decorated, as was in keeping with Jillian’s unsentimental personality. Jillian hadn’t said exactly where she was staying while Kendra lived at her place, only that she’d keep in touch by phone. Jillian was not touchy-feely about friendships, either. When Kendra paid back the debt she owed Jillian for saving her life that long-ago summer day when she’d helped her escape from Andy, she suspected there would be no further connection between them.

Kendra hastened to the back of the house to check the master bedroom. She reached out a hand to push open the door and something large and soft fell from above. A paper sack split as it hit the floor and suddenly the room was alive with enraged wasps streaming out of a fragment of wasp nest.

In her panic, Kendra stumbled and fell backward, screaming as the stinging insects swarmed over her.

FOUR

Ethan slammed through the front door at the first scream. He was down the hall and unexpectedly battling his way through angry wasps that thickened as he reached the bedroom. Kendra was on her hands and knees, crawling toward the threshold, insects enveloping her, trying to get her feet underneath her to escape. He caught hold of her arm and hauled her out of the room, slamming the door, which confined most of the vicious creatures. The remaining few continued to sting both of them, jabbing repeatedly. He killed as many as he could while they stumbled to the kitchen. Closing the swinging door, he grabbed the nearest weapon, a pot holder. With a startled mew, Baby scuttled under the nearest chair while he swatted the wasps that hovered over Kendra, trying not to hurt her.

Tears of pain streamed down her cheeks and red welts began to appear here and there along her arms.

“I think I got them,” he said. He scanned feverishly until he realized there were more wasps tangled in her red hair.

“Quit wiggling,” he commanded.

She twitched and flailed. “You try it sometime.”

Commandeering her into a chair, he shooed the insects from the silky mass and squashed them.

Ethan and Kendra sat still, listening for more.

She breathed hard. “Somebody—” she swallowed “—somebody put the nest there, above the door.”

Somebody? He filled a plastic bag with ice from the tiny freezer and gave it to her. “Hold this to the stings on your face. It was only some of the colony in that bag, fortunately. Looks like only half a dozen stings.”

He filled another and grasped her forearm as gently as he could. He applied the cold to the worst of the welts. “Are you allergic to insect bites?”

“Guess we’re about to find out,” she said, a wry twist on her lips.

He grinned back. The lady had gumption. He’d known grown men so scared of wasps they ran at the first sight of one. “So who’s the ‘someone’?”

She looked at the floor. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, so don’t play clueless. This isn’t the Red Rose Killer. This is personal, very personal, intended to shake you up, but probably not to kill you outright. So who’s the someone who wants to torture you?”

Her swollen eyes weighed and measured him, like he had weighed and measured so many of the people he’d interrogated as a military cop. To trust, or not? It wouldn’t surprise him if she decided not to, in light of their contentious relations to date. Her gaze shifted to Baby, who was lying flat on the linoleum, tracking a stray wasp that traversed the kitchen. He could read the emotions flickering across her face. He’d saved her cat, a creature who obviously meant everything to her. Decision made.

Kendra let out a breath that came out as a sigh. “My former boyfriend,” she said. “Andy Bleakman.”

He waited, silent, sensing there was more coming.

“He did prison time because of me.”

“Why?”

Her cheeks blushed crimson to match her red welts. “I don’t want to go into it now.”

“No better time.”

She yanked her arm from his grasp. “I’ve just been a wasp pin cushion and the bedroom is still full of angry insects, so I contend there is a better time. As a matter of fact, any time would be better than this time.”

He liked the fire in her voice, the way she lifted that delicate chin and stared him down. It made his pulse kick up one notch.

Back off, Ethan. No more hotheaded women for you, especially one who is the spitting image of Jillian. He cleared his throat. “Just give me the critical points then. What was Andy in prison for?”

A beat of hesitation told him her trust only went so far. “Armed robbery.”

“And he blames you.”

“Yes. Jillian helped me get away from him, so now revenge on me is his mission in life.”

Jillian helped? He considered that. Throughout their marriage Jillian had been busily helping herself, chasing after every adrenaline-fueled thrill she could get her hands on, but she also had a desperate need to be the hero. He could imagine her riding to the rescue of her helpless friend...and then discarding her like a used dishrag when she’d finished. Mouth open, he was just about to tell Kendra so, when it dawned on him that she looked plumb worn-out.

He went to the truck and let Titus into the backyard, filling a bowl of water for him and another with kibble. Returning to the kitchen, he palmed his phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Pest control to come and retrieve your wasp nest.” Ear to the phone, he strode to the refrigerator and opened it.

“Looking for something?” she said, brows quirked.

He poked around inside. “It’ll do.”

“Do for what?”

“Dinner. I’m hungry.”

She gaped. “Are you expecting me to cook you dinner?”

“No, ma’am,” he said. “I’m gonna do the cooking while you go wash your face and make sure you got all the wasps out of your clothes.” He pointed to a door. “Laundry room?”

“Yes.”

“There are no wasps in there and you probably have extra clothes there already.”

She pursed her lips. “So...you can cook, Lieutenant?”

“Call me Ethan, and I happen to be an excellent cook thanks to my mama, who won so many blue ribbons at the fair I lost count.” He gestured to the laundry room. “Get a move on.”

“Are military cops always so bossy?”

“Only the good ones. Go. Pest control is on the way.” He pulled the eggs from the fridge and began to prowl for a frying pan. Before she left, he’d located a spatula and brandished it like bayonet. “I’m armed and dangerous.”

She smiled, as he’d hoped she would. “Okay. Be right back.”

“Kendra?”

“Yes?”

“You said you’re Andy’s mission in life. What exactly does that mean?”

She rubbed at a welt on her cheek, eyes gone dark. “He’s going to make sure that I suffer before he kills me.” Shoulders bowed, she left.

So the man with a mission to hurt Kendra knew where she lived, and how to get into her house. Was he also the one who’d taken shots at her vehicle? Or could it be that Boyd Sullivan was changing things up, trying out new ways to torture his victims before he killed them?

The case was turning into a many-headed monster.

Monsters didn’t scare Ethan one bit. There was no enemy that he and Titus couldn’t put down.

Whistling, he set to work on the eggs.

* * *

She wouldn’t admit it, but Kendra was thrilled to strip off her clothes and change into clean jeans and a T-shirt. The welts on her arms were red and angry, but they did not seem to be affecting her breathing. Her face was probably a mess, so she was grateful there wasn’t a mirror in the laundry room. Part of her tensed at the thought of Ethan Webb clanging pots and pans in her kitchen. The last thing she wanted was a partner—a handsome, pushy, military partner with whom she’d already shared way more than she wanted to. The other part of her recalled the image of him dragging her away from the wasps with no concern for himself.

The minute she returned to the kitchen, Ethan gestured her into a chair and slid a plate with a perfectly golden wedge in front of her.

“Wow. That looks great.”

“It is. Frittata without mushrooms ’cuz you didn’t have any.” His brash tone made her smile. “You should keep mushrooms on hand. Very versatile.”

“I’ll make a note of it. I only just arrived here last night, so I didn’t have time for much shopping.”

He sat across from her and to her surprise, he took her hand to give thanks.

“Lord, thanks for giving us this good food and another day to enjoy it.”

After the “amen” he grinned. “Sorry. I shoulda asked if you wanted to say it.”

“Is that your subtle way of asking if I’m a believer?”

“Are you?”

“Yes. A new one, I’m afraid.”

He laughed. “Doesn’t matter if you’re new or got some miles behind you. Truth is truth, no matter when you arrive at it.”

“Texas wisdom?”

He grimaced in mock affront. “Tennessee, ma’am. We got lots of wisdom there, way more than here in Texas.”

She dug into the fritatta, redolent with red peppers and onions. “You really are a good cook.”

“Yes, ma’am, I am,” he said.

“And humble, too.”

“Upon occasion.”

Kendra laughed. A soft knock sounded on the kitchen door and she was surprised to find a small woman, late thirties maybe, standing on the porch, her long brown hair caught in a ponytail. She held out a plastic bag of cherries. Her blue eyes were wide with alarm as she got a look at Kendra.

“Are you... I mean, are you okay, Jillian? Your face...is a little swollen.”

Kendra snapped herself back into the role she should have been playing all along, thankful for her swollen face. “Oh, yes, I’m okay.” She put a finger to her cheek. “I got tangled up with some wasps.” She turned to Ethan. “Ethan, this is Mindy Zeppler, my next-door neighbor.”

“We’ve only had a chance to say hi in passing,” Mindy said. “You’re so busy, Jillian.”

Another blessing, Kendra realized. Jillian and Mindy hadn’t spent time together, which made her more likely to accept Kendra as Jillian.

“I, uh, I heard you and Ethan were divorced. It’s nice to see you still get along so well.”

In one swift movement, Ethan stepped close to Kendra and looped an arm around her. “Reconciled, ma’am. We’re both thrilled to be together again.” He pressed a kiss to the temple free of stings and her blood raced right up to her face. “Can’t believe we wasted so much time,” he said as he leaned in closer, his breath warm on her neck.

Kendra’s body prickled all over and chills raced up her spine. What was he doing?

Mindy smiled at Ethan. “Your dog is beautiful. Patrol dog?”

“And soon to be cadaver detector,” he said proudly.

Mindy’s mouth dropped open.

Titus’s new skill was a real conversation stopper, Kendra realized.

“I was just bringing by some cherries. Nice to meet you, Ethan. I work for a real estate business in town. I can ask them about a good pest control guy.” She shivered. “Wasps are the worst. They just keep stinging until they’re dead.”

Or their victim is, Kendra thought with a shudder. “We’ll take care of it.” She was not certain how much to tell Mindy, but in her experience as a private investigator, the less information she let spill the better. “Thanks, though, for bringing the cherries.”

“Would you care for some frittata, ma’am?” Ethan was acting the perfect Southern gentleman.

Mindy waved a hand. “Oh, no, thank you, I just came to deliver a message with the cherries.”

“A message?” Kendra felt an inexplicable chill.

“Yes, a man called me yesterday.” She frowned. “I’m not sure how he got my number, now that I think about it. He said he was an old friend of yours and he was trying to find you.”

“Did he leave his name?”

“No. I figured you were US Marine buddies.”

“What made you think that, ma’am?” Ethan’s voice as level and low, but intense.

“Well...” Mindy said, her mouth crimped as she thought about it. “I’m not sure. He was polite, like you, though no accent. Maybe I just imagined the marine thing because I know you’re a pilot,” she said to Kendra.

“Ma’am, would you happen to have that number on your phone?” Ethan asked her.

She shook her head. “It said, ‘Unknown Caller.’ I deleted it. I’m sorry. Is it important?”

Ethan shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“What was the message?” Kendra asked.

“He said to tell you he was looking forward to seeing you again soon and he was going to bring you some roses. I thought it was sweet.”

Roses.

Sullivan.

Looking forward to seeing you again.

Soon.

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