AGENT UNDERCOVER

When a woman drags Blake Harrison out of his wrecked car, he knows the mysterious stranger has saved his life. But more shocking than the hit-and-run is the news that a crime cartel has infiltrated his factory. There’s a fortune to be made by tampering with the factory’s products…but only if Blake is out of the way. Undercover FBI agent Heidi Zimmerman has two goals—catch the criminals in the act, and keep Blake alive. Falling for the single dad and his adorable daughter isn’t in the plan. But everything changes when an abduction leaves Heidi face-to-face with a killer, revealing the danger that’s been hiding in plain sight all along…

Why didn’t she answer?

Blake redialed Heidi’s phone again, and again it went to voice mail.

She and his daughter were probably headed back, so he decided to meet them. He didn’t have much time left with Heidi; he wouldn’t waste a minute. But when he reached the creek, they weren’t there, and a vague unease settled in his gut. He quickened his pace through the forest toward his house.

“Heidi! Maggie!”

No reason to panic. Heidi knew this mountain as well as he did.

But the house was empty. So was her cabin. Now his breath came in gasps as he tried her phone again. He left a message. “Heidi, where are you? Call me.”

He ran down to the road, calling their names. But Heidi wouldn’t allow Maggie to walk along the narrow road.

Blake rubbed his temples and tried to breathe. Tried to stop the thoughts from tumbling in his brain. Missing… Why?

Who?

His phone rang and his heart soared, then crashed when an unknown number lit up the screen. “Yes?”

“Hello, Blake,” a cold voice said.

“Who is this?”

“I’m the person who has what you love most in the world.”

LYNN HUGGINS BLACKBURN believes in the power of stories, especially those that remind us that true love exists, a gift from the Truest Love. She’s passionate about CrossFit, coffee and chocolate (don’t make her choose) and experimenting with recipes that feed both body and soul. She lives in South Carolina with her true love, Brian, and their three children. You can follow her real-life happily-ever-after at lynnhugginsblackburn.com.

Covert Justice

Lynn Huggins Blackburn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

—2 Timothy 1:7

To Brian. This book wouldn’t exist without your encouragement and support. Thank you for believing in me, even—especially—when I thought this dream would never come true. I love you more!

Acknowledgments

So many people to thank!

My Savior—for everything.

My children—Emma, James and Drew—for making the real world a place I love to be.

My parents, Ken and Susan Huggins—for all those trips to the library, for encouraging my love of books and instilling in me the confidence to fly.

My sister, Jennifer Huggins Bayne—for loving the first words of the first story and loving me even when writing makes me crazy.

My mother-in-law, Sandra Blackburn—for your support and all those hours babysitting while I write.

Edie Melson and Vonda Skelton—for first welcoming me into the writing world.

Lissa Halls Johnson—for guiding me through the first version of this story.

The Light Brigade—for praying me through this amazing experience.

Lynette Eason—for telling me my first chapter was too slow and then helping me fix it. You’re an awesome mentor!

Tamela Hancock Murray—for believing in my writing.

Elizabeth Mazer—for taking a chance on this story and this writer.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Epigraph

Dedication

Acknowledgments

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Blake Harrison pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and sprinted through the deluge. Nothing like a cold November downpour to cap off an exhausting week.

He slid into the seat of his BMW and pushed the hood away from his face. Dealing with multiple off-quality batches had kept him late every night this week.

If they didn’t get a handle on their production issues soon, they ran a serious risk of missing shipments and losing customers. Losing customers meant losing jobs and Harrison Plastics International hadn’t laid off an employee in sixty-three years. He didn’t want to be the first Harrison in three generations to break faith with their employees. Their friends.

He shook off the gloominess. They’d had issues before and had overcome them without having to resort to personnel cuts. He had confidence in his engineering team. They’d get things working again. He’d be able to relax after he had a decent meal, a story time with his little Maggie-moo and a full eight-hour visit with his pillow.

He pulled out of the HPI parking lot and began the half-mile drive to his home. The rain made it hard to see the lines on the pavement and he kept his speed low as he entered the sharp curve marking the halfway point to his driveway.

Headlights coming up way too fast flashed in his rearview mirror. Didn’t that guy have the good sense to slow down? At least he wouldn’t have to deal with him on his tail for long.

Without warning, the headlights grew larger in his mirror and a sudden impact threw him forward before the seat belt slammed him back into his seat. He tried to steer as the BMW skidded across the road but lost control on the wet pavement and crashed into the opposite ditch, tail-first.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, hands clenched around the wheel. As his breathing slowed, he took a quick inventory. He could move his arms and legs. His neck and back would be killing him tomorrow, but he didn’t think he’d suffered any major damage. He breathed a prayer of thanksgiving as he groped around in the seat for his cell phone to call for a tow truck.

Before he could find it, the passenger-side door flew open. He blinked in the brightness from the dome lights and tried to focus on the dark shape leaning into his car. He caught a glimpse of big green eyes filled with concern before a slender finger stretched out and extinguished the light.

“Can you move?” He could barely make out the words over the pounding rain. A small hand gripped his arm. “Blake? You have to focus.”

What on earth?

She moved closer and unbuckled his seat belt. “Can you move?”

“Yes. What are you—”

“Then move!” She reached around the steering wheel, pushed open the driver’s-side door and shoved him out into the downpour. He slipped on the bank and had just gotten his footing when she grabbed his hand. “Let’s go. We have to get out of here.”

“Hey.” He shook her off. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you. I have to find my phone and—”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“What?”

“They’re turning around. We have to get away from the car.”

Turning around? The meaning of her words soaked in. They’d hit him on purpose?

“This way.” When her hand clasped his, he allowed her to pull him away from the wreckage and up the bank. As they dove into the trees, headlights flashed around the curve and the air filled with the unmistakable sound of metal dragging across asphalt.

He turned and watched in horror as a massive truck sped away from the mangled remains of his car.

“—close.” The mystery woman had her phone to her ear. “Send an ambulance.”

“I don’t need an ambulance,” he said. “I need answers.” Why would anyone do this? He didn’t have any enemies. Well, a few, but none that would run him off the road and try to kill him. “Who are you?”

The sound of sirens pierced the air and she backed away. “Who I am doesn’t matter. In fact, it would be best if you don’t mention me to the authorities at all.”

She disappeared into the woods faster than he would have thought possible. He could try to follow her, but in the dark and rain, he wouldn’t have a clue which direction she’d gone. He stared at the spot where she’d disappeared and called out, “Thank you,” before sliding back down the bank as the first police car pulled to the side, lights flashing blue and eerie in the gloom.

The next few hours passed in a haze of images. Police and ambulance lights illuminating the surrounding forest. The officer telling him an anonymous caller had reported the accident. His dad standing beside the remains of the car, shaking his head in disbelief. The smell of gasoline mixed with the scent of torn earth. The EMTs insisting he ride to the hospital in the ambulance. His sister, Caroline, clad in hot pink rain boots and jacket, tears streaming down her face when she saw him in the emergency room. His mother’s relieved voice when he spoke to her and his daughter, Maggie, assuring them he’d be home soon.

One CT scan and several exams later, they released him as Saturday dawned clear and cool. Caroline drove with extra caution, for her, and took him straight to their parents’ home to pick up Maggie. Through it all, not one person suggested he’d been the victim of an attempted murder. The police were treating it as a hit-and-run. Given his minimal injuries, and knowing he carried plenty of car insurance, he doubted the investigation would go far.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t mentioned the mystery woman’s involvement. Not even to his dad. There had never seemed to be a good time to bring it up.

But she’d been there. She’d appeared out of nowhere, jumped into his car and pushed him to safety, risking her own life in the process. And somehow she’d known his attacker would turn around to try again.

Which left him with two burning questions.

When the driver, whoever they were, found out he had survived, what then?

And who was she?

* * *

FBI Special Agent Heidi Zimmerman pulled through a fast-food drive-through minutes before they stopped serving breakfast. She’d spent the night at the hospital keeping an eye on the Harrisons while a tactical operations crew worked in the rain to install surveillance equipment at all three of the Harrisons’ homes.

No one ran surveillance like TacOps, but the parameters of her mission hadn’t included keeping tabs on the Harrisons.

Until now.

When she’d called the agent in charge of the TacOps team, Special Agent Kyle Richards, and explained what had happened, he’d offered to expand their surveillance parameters to include the Harrisons.

If anyone decided to sneak around on their property, the TacOps guys would let her know.

She sat at the small desk in her hotel room and spread out her breakfast. She’d taken one bite when the phone rang.

“What on earth were you thinking?” Special Agent in Charge, Frank Cunningham, her boss and godfather, sounded like he wanted to strangle her.

“You’d rather I’d sat back and let someone kill him?”

“You went in there with no backup—”

“I called Max.”

“—blew your cover—”

“Blake Harrison’s the only one who saw.”

“—could have been killed—”

“Like that isn’t an everyday occurrence.”

“—and defied a direct order.”

Someone else spoke, but she couldn’t catch the words. Uncle Frank sighed. “Jacobs is defending you. Says he’d have done the same thing.”

“I said I hope I would have,” her partner, Max Jacobs, said. He must have stepped closer to the speaker. “Are you okay?” In spite of her frustration, Heidi smiled. Max was the brother she’d never had. She had no doubt he’d chew her out later, but just like most siblings, he wouldn’t sit back and let anyone else rip into her. Whenever she was under fire, he always, always had her back.

“Need some sleep.” She yawned. “Otherwise, I’m fine.”

“And Blake Harrison?”

“No concussion or broken bones. Wouldn’t be surprised to learn he has whiplash.”

“Beats the alternative.”

No doubt.

“Who saw you?” Uncle Frank’s tone hadn’t softened.

“No one.”

“They didn’t notice your car?”

“Give me some credit.” Uncle Frank’s skills included knowing how to push every button she had. He wouldn’t talk to his other agents this way. No. He reserved this level of tough love for her and her alone. “I left it in an overgrown abandoned driveway. That rain was no joke. You could barely see the road, much less a car hidden in the brush twenty feet off the pavement. No one saw me leave, either.”

“Can you identify the car?”

“Truck. Full-size. Dark. Plates covered in dirt. Matches the description of half the trucks in the county. Should have some paint transfer, but my guess is they’ll wipe it down and ditch it. And I doubt they bought it legally in the first place.”

“We’ll check for stolen trucks in the area,” Max said. “Maybe we’ll get a hit.”

She appreciated the effort Max was making to diffuse the tension.

“Can you explain to me what you were doing there in the first place? Or why on earth someone tried to kill Blake Harrison?”

Heidi snapped. “I don’t have a clue why someone tried to kill him, Uncle Frank. Maybe he’s got more enemies than we knew about. I’ll be sure to ask him.” Did he expect her to solve the case before she even started the job? “As for what I was doing there, I believe it’s called running surveillance. It’s what I do when I go undercover. I’m pretty sure it’s what you taught me to do.”

Uncle Frank didn’t respond.

“I was sitting at the edge of the parking lot and I saw a car leave at an odd time. The shift didn’t end for another hour. I thought I’d have time to follow the driver to see if they did anything suspicious and be back by the end of the shift. My plan had been to see if anyone hung around late on a Friday.”

“Good idea, Z.” Bless Max.

“The rain was so heavy, I didn’t realize it was Blake Harrison until I’d already pulled in behind him. He turned onto the road and I almost let him go, but this truck came up fast and...”

“And what?”

“And I don’t know why I followed them. I just did.”

“She’s got the best instincts of any agent I’ve ever worked with,” Max said. “They’ve saved my life more than once.”

“I guess it’s good for Blake Harrison that you followed your gut,” Uncle Frank finally conceded.

Heidi knew that was as close as she was going to get to an apology.

“You’re going to have to read him in. Soon. He needs to know who he can and cannot talk to about this.” At least Uncle Frank’s voice had returned to normal decibels.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Great,” Max said with enough brightness to rival a high school cheerleader. “Z, you need to get some rest. We’ll let you know if we learn anything on the truck.”

“Heidi, remember what you promised me.” Uncle Frank’s words erased all her frustration with him. His anger wasn’t directed at her. His anger reflected his fear for her safety.

“I’ll be careful.”

She ended the call, finished her breakfast and took a long shower before falling across the bed. She’d found the cheap mattress hard for the past month, but today it didn’t matter.

* * *

The ringing phone jolted her back to consciousness. The clock on the bedside table read five-thirty. She’d slept seven hours?

“Hello.” She stretched and cleared her throat.

“Did I wake you?” Max laughed.

“No.”

“Liar.”

“What do you want?” Heidi sat up and scanned the room. Satisfied she was alone, she leaned back onto the pillows.

“First, Sara would like you to know that if you ever do something that stupid again, she will no longer be your best friend.”

“Sara’s survived worse. I’m not worried.”

“Well, she is.”

“How does she even know about this?” Sara had been her best friend since the first night in their freshman college dorm. When she’d woken up screaming, she’d expected Sara to bolt. She wouldn’t have blamed her.

Instead, Sara had stayed. She’d kept Heidi’s secrets. She’d taught Heidi how to laugh again. And she’d made no secret that having a roommate with a traumatic past had led to her decision to make PTSD her specialty. She was now Dr. Sara Elliot, a practicing clinical psychologist who consulted frequently with the FBI, CIA and other law enforcement and intelligence agencies. Her security clearance was even higher than Uncle Frank’s.

Heidi had never understood why Sara and Max weren’t on better terms. It would make her life a lot easier if her two best friends could get along but she seemed to be the only thing they could agree on.

“She came in to see Frank about fifteen minutes after he hung up with you. He’s the one who ratted you out. Not me.”

“Well, good. That will save me some time the next time I talk to her.”

“Seriously, Z. We’re all concerned about you. The Kovacs don’t play.” Max wasn’t laughing anymore.

“I know that better than anyone.”

Max didn’t respond.

Heidi let him stew for a minute. He was worried. Sara was worried. Uncle Frank was worried. She appreciated the concern, but there was no way she’d pass up the chance to take down the Kovacs. She’d never been this close before.

“Did you have a reason for waking me up other than to fuss at me?”

“I called because I thought you might like to know a forest ranger found a burned-out Ford F-150 in the Pisgah National Forest, next county over. Matches a vehicle reported stolen on Wednesday.”

“Okay.”

“Z?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not sure this is going to be as straightforward as we’d hoped.”

“It never is.”

“You need to find out what Blake Harrison has done to tick off the Kovac family.”

“I don’t think he has any idea.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The look on his face last night. He wasn’t expecting to be run down on a rainy highway and he never imagined they’d done it on purpose. I spent the entire evening watching the family at the hospital. The dad, Jeffrey, and the sister, Caroline, were worried, but they weren’t scared.”

“They should be.”

“They will be.”

“Have you thought about how you’re going to handle letting him know what’s going on?”

“I’m hoping to catch him alone. TacOps is monitoring the place.”

“No small job.”

“Tell me about it.”

The Harrisons owned a huge swath of property. The land had been in the family for over a hundred years. The family business, Harrison Plastics International, known by everyone in the area as HPI, sat on one side of the road in the valley between two small mountains. One mountain was undeveloped and used as a recreation area for the employees of HPI. The Harrisons’ homes dotted the small mountain on the other side.

Blake’s home sat on the backside of the mountain, while his parents’ home sat in the middle overlooking the valley and the plant. Caroline’s home perched near the top of the mountain above their parents’. A gate blocked the winding driveway leading to their houses, but it wouldn’t stop anyone determined to get inside.

“Richards is leading the TacOps team,” Heidi continued.

“Good man.”

“He’s supposed to let me know if there’s a good opportunity to pay Blake Harrison a visit. If nothing comes up soon, I may just have to knock on his door.”

TWO

It was 7:28 p.m. Blake swallowed three more ibuprofen. They’d offered him a prescription for stronger pain medication before releasing him from the hospital. He’d refused. He’d seen firsthand how far prescription drugs could take someone and he didn’t want that stuff in his house again.

He tried to bend over to pull Maggie’s doll from under the couch, but his back had other ideas. The rap on the door caught him off guard and he jerked upright. Pain raced through his sore muscles as he reached for the baseball bat he’d unearthed when he’d returned home this morning.

Someone had tried to kill him last night. Not that anyone knew, but when his ex-wife’s parents had offered to take Maggie for the evening, he’d jumped at it. At age five, Maggie’s response to the idea of him being injured was to climb all over him to make sure he was in one piece. His aching back could use a night off from being her jungle gym. And anyway, she had to be safer with her grandparents than with him.

Wait. What if they’d tapped his phone? They could have been listening and that would mean they knew he was alone. If he looked through the peephole, would they shoot him?

Get a grip, man. He’d watched too many movies.

The knock came again.

“Mr. Harrison?”

He knew that voice.

He risked a peek and got an eyeful of curly bronze hair. She stepped back from the door as he tried to match this woman with the version he had in his head. Hair saturated with rain, plastered to her cheeks. Eyes flashing. A bit on the bossy side, not that he would complain.

“Mr. Harrison?”

The voice. Yes. He would know her voice anywhere. Although last night she’d called him Blake. He preferred Blake. He opened the door before he could change his mind.

“Hi.”

Yes, same eyes, flashing with amusement now as she studied him.

He followed her gaze to the bat clenched in his hand. He considered putting it down, but really, what did he know about her?

Besides the fact that she’d saved his life.

“May I come in?”

He hesitated and looked behind her. A small Acura SUV sat in his driveway. “How did you get in here?”

“Your code’s not complicated.”

His mind raced with the implications. She knew where he lived. She’d had no difficulty entering their gated driveway. She hadn’t tried to hide either of those facts.

“Mr. Harrison?”

He met her gaze.

“I’d rather not stand on your porch all evening. If you don’t want me to come in, I’d be happy to meet you somewhere more public.”

“No.” No way could he let her get away without giving him some kind of explanation for what was going on. Although he doubted he’d be able to stop her if she wanted to leave.

He stuck out his hand. “My name is Blake Harrison.”

She grinned as she shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Harrison. I’m Heidi Zimmerman.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Please come in. And please, call me Blake.” He opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “Have a seat.”

He didn’t miss the way her eyes darted around the room as she crossed the threshold, or the way she chose a chair with a view of the door and the rest of the room.

“Thank you,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Her smirk told him she wasn’t buying it. “I’m moving slow, but there’s no permanent damage. Thanks to you.”

They stared at each other for a moment. He got the impression that she was analyzing everything he said, every move he made, but he couldn’t be sure what she’d concluded about him. “Can I offer you a Coke? Mountain Dew? Tea? Water?”

“Water would be great.”

He tried not to let on how stiff he was as he walked to the kitchen.

Her voice followed him. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks. It was my grandparents’. I inherited it after they passed away.”

Why on earth had he said that? He grabbed a water for her and a Mountain Dew for himself. Returning to the living room, he handed her the bottle and eased into the chair across from her. He had so many questions, but no idea where to start.

She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and removed a small leather case. She flipped it open and slid it across the coffee table. “Maybe this will help.”

He read the words on the badge. FBI? Was this for real?

“Need a closer look? You can call headquarters, if you’d like to verify it’s legitimate.”

FBI? A lead weight settled on his chest as the faint hope that the events of last night were a fluke disintegrated. “I think I’d like to hear what you have to say first.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “I need you to know, before last night I had no idea you were in danger.”

The way she looked at him with her head cocked to the side, brows knit, mouth tight, he couldn’t question the sincerity or concern behind her words.

Then again, for all he knew the FBI gave their agents acting classes.

He’d fallen for a pretty face once before. And Heidi Zimmerman qualified as more than a pretty face. Her hair spiraled past her shoulders in shades of blond and brown and one little curl kept breaking free from where she tucked it behind her ear. Long lashes framed big green eyes set over a cute nose.

Cute nose? Nobody had a cute nose. He needed to pull it together. What had she said? She hadn’t known someone wanted him dead? What did someone say to that? Great?

She sat straighter in her chair. “I’m sure this goes without saying, but if you tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, I’ll deny it and you’ll be prosecuted for obstruction of justice.”

“Sounds fun.”

Her lips twitched. Super FBI agent lady had a sense of humor. Interesting.

No trace of humor lingered when she spoke again. “Fifty years ago, Viktor Kovac immigrated to America from Hungary. It didn’t take him long to settle into New York City and within a few years, more members of the family joined him. Within ten years of his arrival, the Kovacs had made a name for themselves in criminal circles. The police suspected them of everything from money laundering to drug smuggling.”

She took a sip of her water. “Like most organized crime families, they are focused on doing whatever it takes to protect their own and make as much money as they can. In recent years the younger Kovacs have pushed into darker territory. Instead of money laundering and protection schemes, they’ve been linked to human trafficking, arms smuggling and trying to corner the market on certain prescription drugs.”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

“No. You wouldn’t. Other than the occasional low-ranking lieutenant or wannabe, they’ve never been prosecuted.”

“Never?”

She shook her head, disgust etching her features. “They’ve been linked to multiple homicides yet despite extraordinary efforts on the part of detectives, FBI agents and even informants, there’s never been enough proof to take them to trial, much less secure a conviction.”

Her voice cracked and for a moment, a cavern of pain opened in her eyes. As quickly as it appeared, she looked away and when their eyes met again, steely determination was in its place.

“The younger Kovacs are opportunists. They function without morals, ethics or loyalty to anything or anyone other than the family.”

“You don’t have to convince me. They’re bad news. I’ll be sure to stay away from them.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be as easy as you may think.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t know any Kovacs.”

When she looked at him her eyes filled, not with the intensity he’d seen a moment ago, but with compassion. She had the look his mother had had when she’d told him about Grandma’s cancer. A look like that only came with bad news.

“Are you saying I do know some Kovacs?”

She nodded. “One of your employees.”

“I know all my employees. Not a Kovac in the bunch.”

“Two months ago, you hired a man by the name of Mark Hammond, I believe?”

“Yes.”

“Mark Hammond isn’t his real name.”

Blake put his head in his hands. This couldn’t be happening. “I run background checks on all my employees.”

“If you’ve got the money and the know-how, it’s not hard to create an identity that can withstand all but the most thorough of investigations.”

“So—”

“Mark Hammond’s real name is Markos Kovac. He’s the youngest grandson of the original Kovac and he has a lot to prove. He’s the baby of the family by quite a few years and most of his older brothers have already established their roles in the organization.”

Blake sat up. “How do you know this?”

“The Kovac family is my job.”

She didn’t elaborate and the set of her mouth made him think she might not say more, but she swallowed hard and continued. “I know more about the Kovacs than anyone else in the Bureau. When Markos and his wife, Katarina, bolted for North Carolina, I followed. I’ve been here four weeks, watching, following, listening—trying to figure out what Markos is up to.”

“I haven’t seen you.”

“I’m an undercover agent. That’s kind of the idea.”

Something about this whole conversation didn’t make sense. “What does any of this have to do with me? Mark may not like me, but I don’t think he’d run me off the road. Besides, I hate to tell you this, but he was at work when I left.”

She started to answer, but he cut her off. “Has it occurred to you that maybe this guy wants to go straight? Maybe he wants to get out of the family business and live an honest life.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “No one leaves the Kovacs. No one has even tried in the past fifteen years.” The words were more breath than whisper. She looked up at him and the pain on her face made him lean toward her. He wanted to comfort her, somehow, but he didn’t even know her.

The moment passed. “What do you mean, about Markos not liking you?”

Blake rubbed his face with his hands. “I’m sure it’s nothing. We’ve just had a few minor issues.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to decide whether your issues are minor or not.”

Ah. Yes. There was the bossiness he remembered. “Fine. He’s had some inconsistencies with quality that none of our other supervisors have had. The last twenty or so off-quality batches we’ve produced happened on his watch. I’ve questioned him, even hung out during shifts, tried to ask around. There’s nothing I could prove in terms of negligence in his work, but I did tell Dad and Caroline that I was watching him. We’ve been wondering if he might be some sort of corporate spy.”

“Do you have a lot of trouble with corporate espionage?”

Blake couldn’t resist the opportunity to brag. “We make things no one else can make. Sure, we produce a lot of stuff that’s standard—your basic water bottles, food containers, chemical containers—but over the past ten years, we’ve built a reputation for making specialty containers no one else will even attempt. We make unique shapes and if we can’t make it, no one can. This year we landed a huge account for water bottles shaped like footballs, basketballs and baseballs. Our client has already sold them to over thirty professional teams. They hit baseball parks this summer. That account alone doubled the production on our specialty lines.”

She didn’t seem as impressed as she should be.

“We have some fierce competitors out there who would love to get an inside look at what we do.”

Heidi raised her hands. “Okay. Okay. You guys are the best. I’m not disputing your status. But I know the Kovacs, and corporate espionage isn’t their style,” she said. “He’s here to do more than steal some trade secrets.”

“Care to be more specific?”

Heidi looked down. “I can’t.”

“You what?”

“I can’t be more specific, because I don’t know. That’s what I’m here to find out.”

* * *

Blake sat back in his chair. Heidi watched as the struggle to grasp her words played out across his face. They sat in silence for several minutes before he cleared his throat. “What does any of this have to do with me getting run off the road last night?”

There it was. The question she’d been waiting for and the one she dreaded answering. “I don’t know. I’m hoping you might be able to help with that.”

Skepticism radiated from his face. “Me?”

“One of the things that has bugged me from the beginning is why Markos chose HPI.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you.”

“You make plastic containers. What’s dangerous about plastic? Sure, you store chemicals in high quantity, but he’d be able to get those in other places—places run by men who don’t have your reputation for high moral standards. I can’t figure out the connection between what you do at HPI and what he could be planning. But after last night, I’m certain of one thing.”

“What?”

“He believes you are standing in his way.”

Blake stood and paced around the small living room. He’d taken this far better than she’d expected. He hadn’t thrown anything. He hadn’t asked her to leave. He hadn’t refused to believe her. His mind had to be in turmoil, but he didn’t appear rattled. If anything, he looked like a man who was formulating a plan of action.

No. Not what she’d expected at all.

He turned to her. “Are you hungry?”

“Hungry?”

“Yes. I’m starving. How do you feel about pizza?”

“My feelings are generally favorable toward anything that involves cheese.”

A true smile flickered across his face and Heidi looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. Dark hair with a hint of curl. Dark brown eyes. Strong chin. He reminded her of the brooding movie stars of the ’40s. Until he smiled. His smile did something funny to her, but she didn’t have the time or inclination to explore the emotion.

He pondered the phone in his hand. “Is it safe for me to have a pizza delivered?”

She could tell he was trying to keep things light, even as he processed the seriousness of the situation. “It should be, but to be sure, you can use my phone.”

He took her phone and dialed the number from memory. “What do you like?”

“Meat. The more the better.”

He widened his eyes at her. “I’d have taken you for a vegetarian.”

“I’d starve.”

He placed the order and returned her phone before settling back into his chair. He grimaced as he sat. He had to be hurting.

He pulled in a deep breath and winced again. He could use the accident as a cop-out. He could tell her he didn’t feel well and needed to get some rest. Most people would.

Not Blake Harrison. “I want to talk more about this situation, but first, I need to know more about you.”

Heidi wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but it was a fair question. “Okay. What do you want to know?”

“Who are you?” Frustration oozed from his words. She needed to remember he’d had less than thirty minutes to come to terms with some life-altering news.

“My name is Heidi Zimmerman. I’m an FBI agent and for the past ten years, the Kovac family has been my primary assignment.”

“Ten years? How old are you?”

“It’s none of your business, but I’m thirty-two. I joined the Bureau straight out of college. Virginia Tech. I have a degree in mechanical engineering and a minor in accounting.”

“Interesting combination.”

“The Kovacs own several manufacturing enterprises. I’ve gone undercover as an engineer more than once.”

“How’d you wind up with the FBI?”

Heidi gave him the answer she gave to anyone who asked. “I was always interested in law enforcement. Seemed exciting and fulfilling. So I went for it.”

Blake studied her, then shook his head. “I’ve believed pretty much everything you’ve said, but I don’t think that’s the real reason.”

Heidi froze. How could he—?

“If you don’t want to tell me, fine. Spare me the slick story that could be an advertisement for the FBI recruiters to use. It doesn’t suit you.”

Heidi didn’t answer right away. She hadn’t expected Blake Harrison to be so perceptive. But the truth? The truth wasn’t something she shared. Ever. She couldn’t. Not if she wanted to live to fight another day.

“I didn’t lie,” she said. Blake started to argue with her but she cut him off. “I grew up rough. There were a few police officers who made a huge impact on me. Then this FBI agent saved my life.” She’d skated into dangerous territory and decided to keep it vague. “By the time I graduated from high school, I had my heart set on joining the FBI, but with my background, I didn’t know if the FBI would take me. I chose college courses so I could work in something other than law enforcement if plan A didn’t pan out.”

She hadn’t come anywhere close to telling him the whole truth, but not one word of what she’d said was a lie. She gave him time to process her words.

“Why are you embarrassed about your childhood?” he finally asked.

How had he made that leap? And how annoying that he was right. “Look, not everyone has a Norman Rockwell upbringing. Mine isn’t something I talk about. When people ask, I give them the recruiting-poster version. It’s cleaner. And most people don’t like messy.”

He nodded. “That I believe. But you shouldn’t assume my life has been all sunshine and roses.”

No. She knew about that. She’d had background checks run on the entire Harrison family. Not because they were suspects, but more than one operation had gone south because an agent hadn’t done their homework.

The Harrisons had checked out. An American success story. Family-owned business, strong family, loyal employees.

Except for one.

Blake closed his eyes and shook his head. “You know about Lana, don’t you?”

She wouldn’t deny it.

“Do I even want to know how you know?”

“Background checks are a standard part of an operation like this.” His eyes flashed and Heidi pressed on. Might as well rip the bandage off in one quick pull. “As soon as Markos got the job, I ran background checks and financials on your entire family. Even pulled some reports on your grandparents, looking for any connection to the Kovacs, however slight. I didn’t find anything that raised any red flags.”

“Except Lana.”

“Her, um, mistakes, were a matter of public record. As was your divorce and her relinquishment of her parental rights while in prison.”

Blake fidgeted in his chair. Frustration? Embarrassment? Or trying to find a more comfortable position? Heidi couldn’t be sure.

Heidi’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She silenced it without looking. As a rule, she kept her phone out of sight when she was meeting with someone on official business. If she was going to ask them to trust her, they deserved to get her undivided attention.

The phone vibrated again. Two calls in ten seconds? It might be time to break her rule.

Blake waved his Mountain Dew toward her. “Seems like someone wants to talk to you. Go ahead.”

“Sorry about this.” She caught the call before it went to voice mail. “Zimmerman.”

“Are you still with Blake Harrison?”

Max? “Yes.”

“Stay with him.” Max’s tone left no doubt. Something bad had happened.

“What—”

“Hang on.”

Blake’s phone rang and his brow furrowed as he glanced at it. She waved a hand to encourage him to take it.

“Mom? Mom, slow down. What—”

His face registered confusion, then concern, then horror. “I’ll be right there. Call me if anything changes. Tell Dad I love him. Yes. I love you, too.”

He dropped his phone on the table. “They’re taking Dad to the hospital in Asheville. Mom thinks he’s had a stroke.” He stood and rummaged around in a basket on the kitchen counter. “I have keys to Mom’s car in here somewhere.”

A stroke? This explained the call from Max.

Max came back on the line. “Heidi,” Max said.

“I know. Stroke?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Don’t let Blake Harrison out of your sight.”

THREE

Heidi slid her phone into her bag, retrieved her keys and stepped into the kitchen where Blake pawed through the small basket.

“Good grief.” He dumped the basket on the counter. “Where are they?”

“Blake.” If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge her. She put one hand over his. That got his attention.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to go.”

She jangled her keys. “I know. I’ll drive.”

He froze. “What?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Why?”

Bless his heart. He didn’t understand. “Blake, someone tried to kill you last night. You have the grandson of a notorious organized-crime family working for you. Now your dad has a stroke?” He had to see the pattern here.

“My grandfather died from a stroke in his early sixties.”

“Then this may be nothing more than a horrible coincidence, but I’m not willing to take that chance. Let me drive.”

They loaded into her car with no further conversation. She didn’t need his occasional prompts to turn left or right, but this probably wasn’t the best time to tell him that she’d already made it a point to know how to get to the nearest hospitals.

He stared out the window as she drove and she didn’t try to interrupt his thoughts. She’d unloaded a lot of information on him. He had to be exhausted from the long night in the hospital, and now this.

When her phone rang, she answered, aware that his face had paled. She held the phone to her ear, rather than letting the audio play through the car’s Bluetooth system.

“Zimmerman.”

“Just talked to Richards,” Max said. “They have eyes on the little girl. She’s watching a movie. Both grandparents in the house. No suspicious activity. Team’s prepared to stay all night.”

“Good.”

“Caroline Harrison’s phone indicates she’s heading to Asheville.”

As expected.

“Kovac is at home.”

“Are we sure?”

“Yes. He’s sitting on his back porch smoking. TacOps says he’s been out there for thirty minutes and he’s been home all day.”

“So...”

“We’ll keep an eye on things. We’ll get some blood samples and have our guys run tests for anything suspicious.”

She could feel Blake’s eyes boring into her and chose her words with care. “I would think it would be difficult to cause a stroke without there being other warning signs.”

Anyone who’d ever watched a crime drama or a spy thriller would know certain drugs and poisons could be used to induce a heart attack, but a stroke?

“It should be,” Max said. “I have a call in to a few of our bioterrorism experts to be sure there isn’t something new out there we haven’t heard of. The only drugs or poisons I know that can cause a stroke would have to be consumed in such high quantities that they’d have to be administered over time, with a gradual buildup of symptoms. He should have been too sick to be sitting around having dinner one minute and then be exhibiting full-on stroke symptoms the next.”

“Unless someone’s found a way to induce a stroke that looks like a natural one.”

“Exactly.”

“Let me know what they say.”

“I will. You okay?”

“Yeah. Should be at the hospital in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Tell Blake the latest is his dad’s stable. They’ve administered those stroke drugs. He’s breathing on his own and talking to the docs.”

“I will.”

“Z. Be careful.”

“I will.”

She hit End and glanced at Blake. “Your dad is stable and talking to the doctors.”

He blinked in surprise. “Do I want to know how you know that?”

“If you don’t, then you aren’t going to like the rest of it.” She filled him in on Caroline’s location and Maggie’s.

“How on earth do you know all this?”

“While you were in the hospital last night, a judge gave us permission to put traces on your phones. And we set up some passive surveillance at your homes and your in-laws’ home, since you and Maggie are there so often. Some video feeds on the outside, motion sensors, stuff like that. We have no intention or desire to violate your privacy. This is all for your protection, I assure you. I didn’t think you’d object.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that.” Blake frowned. “We can discuss it later. Why do you think Maggie is in danger? Even if I’m somehow a problem for Mark’s plan, what reason would he have to target my daughter?”

Heidi’s mind flitted to that sunny afternoon fifteen years ago. The smells. The heat. The pain. No. Not again. She shook off the foreboding.

Blake needed to be concerned enough to work with them, to take the necessary precautions, but not so worried that he couldn’t carry on business as usual. “I don’t want to think she is, but I’m not willing to take any chances, because the truth is I can’t guarantee we can keep anyone safe.”

She let that hang there, not wanting to rush past it and have it look like she was trying to gloss over this harshest of realities. “We don’t know why Kovac is here or what his end game is. We don’t know if your family is at risk or not. Up until last night, we assumed you were safe and we were wrong. We’ve been tracking Kovac’s movements, but now we have a system set up to alert us if he approaches any member of your family outside the plant walls. By tracking your phones and cars, we’ll know if anyone decides to take off on an unplanned trip and we’ll know if anyone’s phone suddenly goes dead.”

Blake shifted in his seat. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s not much. Cell phones and locations are all well and good, but if somebody decides to kidnap my daughter or my mother—”

Heidi held up a hand. “We doubt either of them are targets, but we have systems in place to monitor their whereabouts. If anything looks suspicious, I’ll be notified. After what happened last night, I’ve put in a request to get additional support at your home, but with your houses the way they are, it may be tricky.”

She paused as she waited for the traffic to clear so she could turn left. “We’re looking for a rental property close to the plant we can use as a base of operation.”

He shook his head. “This is way past weird.”

“I wish I could tell you it won’t get weirder, but it will.”

“Awesome.” Blake rubbed his hands over his face.

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Heidi risked a question. “I was going to ask you this before your mom called. Do you work late often?”

“You don’t already know?”

The words held a mixture of hostility and teasing that made it impossible for her to be angry with him. “No. Your family has been on the periphery of my surveillance. Not the main focus.”

“Okay. That makes sense, but I don’t understand what my work schedule has to do with anything.”

“I’m trying to get a handle on how difficult it would have been for him to plan the attack against you last night.”

He adjusted the seat belt at his neck. “I almost never work late.”

That didn’t fit with the profile she’d been building in her head.

“I work hard while I’m there, and then leave by four-thirty unless I’m covering for one of the engineers or dealing with some major production issues. I make it a point to spend evenings with Maggie. I take her to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes one afternoon a week, and she loves sports. We just finished soccer and are getting ready to start basketball. If we don’t have practice or a game, then we hang out at home. If I have things I didn’t get to during the day, I log in to the system from home and work after she goes to bed.”

“So Kovac took advantage of a rare opportunity.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he said.

She decided to take the conversation to a lighter topic. “How did you ever land on Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu?”

“I earned my black belt a few years ago and I want Maggie to be able to defend herself.”

So much for a lighter topic.

They didn’t talk the rest of the way. Heidi didn’t mind silence, but most people she knew had to fill it with something. Blake Harrison didn’t fit the mold of anyone she knew.

The security guards gave them a curt nod as they entered the hospital. Her weapons could pass for ordinary objects, but not having to submit to a bag search made things much easier.

She punched the up arrow on the elevator. “As long as you’re here, pretend I don’t exist.”

“What?”

“There’s no logical explanation for my presence, or for you to know who I am.”

“Right.”

“Hand me your phone.”

“My what?”

“Your phone. I’ll put my number in there. Then if you see anything suspicious, you can call or text.”

He handed her the phone. She returned it as the elevator settled on the fifth floor.

“I’ll be nearby. Leave whenever you’re ready. I’ll catch up in the parking lot.”

* * *

When the elevator doors opened, Heidi stepped off without a backward glance. To anyone watching, they were two strangers on an elevator.

Except no one watching would know she’d saved his life. Or that she was an undercover FBI agent seeking to take down a notorious crime family. She wasn’t kidding. The more he thought about it, the weirder this whole mess got.

He spotted Caroline and rushed to her side. “How’s he doing?”

Caroline rocked back and forth on her heels. “Okay, I think.”

His mom came out and he pulled her into a long hug.

“Your dad’s waiting for you,” she said. “They said you could both come back.”

Blake followed his mom through the ICU. They passed the nurses’ station and a break room where someone had burned popcorn. The stench was overpowering, but he preferred it to the antiseptic hospital smell permeating everything else.

His mom paused before a small room. “Your dad wants to talk to each of you alone for a minute.”

He shot a glance at Caroline, her eyes wide in fear. “Go ahead, Care Bear.” As much as he wanted to see his dad, he had a feeling Caroline needed to see him, and hear what he had to say, more.

His mom leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. “This is not how I expected this day to go.” He put an arm around her and rested his cheek on her head while they waited. He let his eyes travel around the ICU to see if he noticed anything suspicious. Trouble was, he had no idea what he was looking for. Maybe a janitor who lingered too long in a room, or a visitor who didn’t have the same look of concern worn by the families of the patients in these walls?

His dad’s stroke was probably due to heredity and not foul play, but with his entire body aching from the events of last night—had it only been twenty-four hours ago?—he couldn’t shake the fear gripping his heart.

Was Mark trying to eliminate the Harrison men or did he have his eyes set on the entire family? Or was it just him? What could they have done that would justify murder? Or were they in the way of something he planned?

He scanned the room again, trying to be observant without being obvious about it. It was harder than it sounded and he wished he knew where Heidi was.

More than anything, he wished no terror lurked in the wings and that he’d never had a reason to meet her, in an official capacity, but it was hard to dislike a woman who’d saved his life. Or one who’d taken such a keen interest in keeping his family safe.

Caroline came out of the room teary but smiling. “Your turn,” she said.

He stepped through the door, pausing in the dim light to get his bearings and to be certain no one else was in the room before crossing to hug his dad.

His dad had always been his rock. The one thing that couldn’t change. Seeing him lying on the white sheets, his face pale, a slight droop to one side of his mouth, was almost more than he could bear.

“Hey.” His dad tried to smile. Half of his face cooperated. “It’s going to be okay.”

Blake swallowed. How would it ever be okay?

“There’s a scary nurse that’s going to come in here soon. Before she does, I want us to pray.”

“What?”

“Let’s pray.”

Blake took his dad’s hand and bowed his head.

“Father, You know how proud I am of my son. No father could be prouder. So I ask You now to comfort him. Ease his mind and his heart. Give him the strength to face the challenges of the days ahead. Give him the grace to trust You no matter what comes. Help him to remember that You are in control and nothing that has happened has caught You by surprise. In Jesus’ name, I ask these things, Amen.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Blake said. His dad couldn’t know how desperately he needed God to answer that prayer.

His time with his dad was cut short by the entrance of the nurse who didn’t look as if she’d appreciate being asked to come back a few minutes later.

His mom met him at the door. “Go home. Get some rest.”

“I hate to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve told Caroline I want her to go home, too. I’ll call you if anything changes.” She placed one hand on his cheek like she’d done since he was a little boy. “He’s going to recover, Blake, but we need you to be able to run things at the plant and you can’t do that if you’re worn out. You’re going to have your hands full for a few weeks.”

She had no idea.

FOUR

When he walked back into the waiting room, he tried not to stare in Heidi’s direction. She was sitting in a corner. He assumed it was because that position gave her a good view of everyone entering and leaving and kept anyone from sneaking up on her from behind. She was holding something in her hands and as he got closer he realized what it was.

She was knitting.

Knitting?

Her fingers continued wrapping and circling and twisting yarn and she didn’t appear to have noticed his arrival.

“You ready?” Caroline put the magazine she’d been skimming back on the stack and stretched a few times in her seat before standing.

“I guess.” He looked back toward the ICU. “Seems wrong to leave, though.”

Caroline laced her arm through his. “She’ll need us to be able to relieve her tomorrow.”

Blake stifled a yawn. He couldn’t deny that his body craved sleep the way it craved Mountain Dew in the morning. But he couldn’t shake the idea that this stroke might not have been a natural event. Someone might have done something to cause this. What if his dad was in great danger?

Who was he kidding? What could he do about it if he was? Sure, he could protect himself if someone got close enough to throw a punch, but running him off the road? His dad having a stroke at dinner?

How could he protect his family from an enemy he couldn’t see, couldn’t touch and didn’t understand?

For one brief moment he caught Heidi’s eye. She nodded toward the elevator and her look conveyed the message that she thought he should leave. He found himself compelled to trust her and that frightened him almost as much as the mysterious Kovac family.

He knew better than to trust a stranger too soon.

Still...

Caroline propelled him toward the elevator. As they waited, he noticed Heidi had stopped knitting. With a few practiced moves, she rolled up the object she’d been working on, popped it into her bag and stood.

He didn’t make eye contact as she walked to the elevators and stood to one side. She nodded at them when the doors opened and they entered first. She stepped in and leaned against the side closest to the controls.

“I’m starving.” Caroline rummaged through her purse. “I was in the middle of dinner with Stephanie when Mom called.”

“Stephanie?”

Caroline flushed.

“You said you had a date.”

“I did...sort of.”

“With Stephanie?” Caroline and Stephanie had been inseparable friends since preschool.

“She’s due any day. We wanted to get in one girls’ night before the baby.”

Blake shook his head. “I get that. What I don’t get is why you told me you had a date.”

Caroline pulled a half-eaten granola bar from her bag. “Yes! Now I won’t pass out before I get back to Stephanie’s.”

“You’re spending the night?”

Caroline shrugged. “You know, in case she goes into labor or something.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

Caroline took a huge bite and chewed. She pointed to her mouth, as if she planned to answer his question after she swallowed. He didn’t buy it.

“You aren’t getting out of this, Care Bear,” he said. “I don’t care if you date or not. I do care about you lying to me.”

He glanced at Heidi. She was watching Caroline, her eyes narrowed in clear concern. Maybe he should save the brotherly lecture for later. Someplace private. Someplace where he could give his little sister a real piece of his mind. He rested his head against the wall and stared at the ceiling. Had he put so much pressure on her that she’d rather lie to him than admit she hadn’t had a date in a year? Maybe he owed her an apology.

“Blake!” Heidi’s voice cut through his thoughts. Why was she yelling at him? Caroline would—

“It’s okay. We’ll get you some help.” Heidi had her arms around Caroline, supporting her. His sister looked like she was barely holding on to consciousness. “I’ve got you,” Heidi said. “Peanut allergy, right?”

How did she know? He put his arm around Caroline and together they eased her into a sitting position on the elevator floor. “Yes. Peanuts. Caroline? Care Bear, can you hear me?”

Caroline’s eyes were open, but she didn’t seem to be able to speak. Her face was red and her lips had a slight purplish cast.

“Does she carry an EpiPen?” Heidi rummaged through Caroline’s purse.

“She should. She always has it.”

Heidi flipped the purse over and shook everything out. “It’s not here!” She shoved the contents back into the purse, then jumped to her feet and pressed the emergency button as the doors opened into the lobby of the hospital.

“How do we get to the emergency room?” Heidi shouted at the startled volunteer sitting at the reception desk.

The woman pointed to her right. Blake spotted a wheelchair and didn’t bother asking if he could take it. As soon as Caroline was seated he took off down the hall.

“Call somebody and tell them we’re coming,” Heidi ordered the receptionist as they raced past her. “Tell them it’s anaphylaxis and we’ll need some epinephrine.”

The next few minutes passed in a blur of yelling and questions he had no answers to. What had she eaten? How had she been exposed?

The ER staff was amazing and it wasn’t long before Caroline sat up on a bed taking deep breaths through the oxygen mask she pressed to her face. Tears streaked her ashen cheeks.

“My EpiPen?” she asked, her voice rough.

“It wasn’t in your purse,” he said.

“I know it was,” she said, confusion and fear thickening her words.

“Heidi dumped everything out, Caroline. It wasn’t there.”

Caroline glanced around the room. “Who’s Heidi?”

Uh-oh. What should he say? Once they’d stabilized Caroline, Heidi had slipped from the room. He couldn’t tell Caroline he suspected she’d gone to do some sort of special agent undercover something or other.

“The lady in the elevator.”

“Oh,” Caroline said. “Do you know her?”

Did he? Not really. “We just met.” He needed to change the subject. “Why don’t you rest. Don’t try to talk. Focus on breathing.”

Her eyes fluttered closed. “That’s not going to be too difficult.”

Within minutes, her soft snores blended with the beeping from the monitors. She’d never had much tolerance for Benadryl, and he had a feeling they’d pumped her full of it. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he was surprised to see the initials HZ pop up.

He stepped from the room and caught the call. “Hello?”

“How’s Caroline?” Heidi’s words came out clipped.

“Stable. They want to watch her, but she should be able to go home in a few hours.”

“Okay. Good.” The relief in her words surprised him. During the entire chaotic episode she’d been calm and composed. Even as she yelled for assistance, the words came out with authority, not panic.

Had she been more worried than he’d realized?

“I need to talk to her.”

“What? Why?”

“Because,” she said, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Three members of your family have experienced life-threatening catastrophes in the past thirty-six hours. Do you not think that’s a problem?”

“Of course it’s a problem, but shouldn’t we call the police?”

“My boss already has. They’ve turned it over to us.”

That was fast. “Who is ‘us’?”

“The FBI in general, my team in specific. My partner is on his way from DC, along with several other agents who are coming to provide round-the-clock protection for your family.”

This could not be happening. It had to be a dream. He would wake up and his biggest problem would be a malfunctioning blower at the factory.

“Do you think she’s up to talking to me?”

“She’s asleep, and with the amount of Benadryl they gave her, I doubt that status will change anytime soon.” He pressed his head against the wall as another thought raced through his mind. “Oh, man. I need to tell Mom and Dad. And I need to call Caroline’s friend Stephanie to let her know what’s going on.”

Then another, far greater fear threatened to choke him. “Maggie.”

“I’m sorry? What?”

“Maggie. I need to get her. She’s not safe. She’s—”

“Blake.” A hand closed over his arm and it took him a second to realize that her voice hadn’t come through the phone. How had she snuck up on him?

* * *

Heidi squeezed Blake’s arm. Poor guy. He was handling this far better than she’d anticipated, but he looked like he was about to drop.

“Maggie is fine.” She released his arm. “Two of the best agents I know are currently posing as repairmen. They are watching the front and back of your in-laws’ home. The windows and blinds are open enough for them to see Maggie and your in-laws. No one will get in there without going through my agents.”

No need to tell him that if anything happened to a child, none of them would ever forgive themselves.

“Why is this happening?”

She didn’t think he’d meant to say that aloud, but it was a valid question. “I don’t know, but I will find out. It would help me if you could tell me everything you know about Caroline’s allergy. It looked like she reacted to something in her purse. Could she have purchased something with peanuts in it by accident?”

“No. Caroline is supercautious. She special-orders those bars by the case. They are crazy expensive, made in a guaranteed nut-free production facility. She has one every day. She eats half in the morning and the other half in the afternoon.”

“No allergies other than peanuts, right?”

“No. She eats dairy, eggs, shellfish...no problem. She can even eat almonds or cashews. Wait a minute. How do you know that?”

Oops. “It’s in her file.”

Blake rubbed his eyes. “Awesome.”

He needed sleep, but she couldn’t do anything about that. A small arrangement of chairs sat in a quiet corner and she nodded in their direction. “Let’s sit.”

He didn’t argue. He collapsed into a chair and put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “I can’t believe she didn’t have her EpiPen.”

“Is she good about keeping it with her?”

“Fanatical. She had a severe reaction when she was twelve. The pen was at the house and we were up at the waterfall behind the plant. Big company-wide fun day. She bit into a dessert and her throat closed up. We’ve always been thankful for the presence and quick thinking of one of our operators with a serious bee allergy. He had his pen in his pocket. I’ve never seen anyone move the way he did. Saved her life.”

He blew out a breath and looked at her, frustration and confusion evident on his face. “Since then, she doesn’t go anywhere without it. She keeps one in her purse at all times, we have two in the plant medical supplies, and she carries one around in her pocket when she’s at home. You saw how fast it happened. If she had a serious reaction when she was alone...”

Heidi could imagine. And the more Blake talked, the more certain she’d become that this had not been an accident.

“Do people at the plant know about the allergy?”

“Yeah. We don’t prohibit people from eating peanuts, but we do have a peanut-free break room and general allergy awareness as part of our new employee orientation. We have two people with peanut allergies, one with a bee allergy and another with an egg allergy.”

He fiddled with his watch band. “Do you think it was Mark?”

Oh, yeah. But she couldn’t prove it. “He’s at the top of my suspect list. Her allergy is well-known. Is it safe to assume her ‘half a bar at a time’ habit is common knowledge, as well?”

“The guys tease her about it. Tell her it wouldn’t hurt her to finish the whole bar in one sitting.”

“Who are these guys? Are you talking about people who work for you?”

“You have to understand. There are two guys who have worked for HPI since before we were born and about fifteen of our employees have been with us since I was in elementary school. They’ve watched us grow up and they don’t have a problem telling Caroline she needs to eat more, or get a boyfriend, or take a vacation.”

“Do they treat you the same way?”

He laughed. “They tell me I need to lay off the Mountain Dew. And get remarried.”

Remarried? Interesting.

“Neither of those things are going to happen.”

Even more interesting. Pro–Mountain Dew, antimarriage? Or just antimarriage for himself?

“You take your Mountain Dew that seriously?”

“Yep.”

He didn’t elaborate, and Heidi pulled the conversation back to Caroline. “I’m going to have the wrapper and the remainder of the bar analyzed, but the circumstantial evidence indicates someone contaminated it with peanuts. If we go with that theory, would it be safe to assume they would have expected her to finish it yesterday while she was still at the plant?”

“I guess—” His brow furrowed.

“What?”

“She always finishes it. Every day. And she seemed surprised to find a half in her purse.”

Heidi didn’t like where this was going. “Do people know what brand or what flavor she likes? And would it be possible for someone to get access to her purse?”

Blake groaned. “Two weeks ago.”

“What happened two weeks ago?”

“One of the guys has a granddaughter with a peanut allergy and he asked Caroline about her granola bars during a shift-change meeting. I only remember it because she borrowed my phone and pulled up the website she orders from to show him. They were talking about the brand, which flavors she likes, stuff like that.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Mark was there.”

Heidi closed her eyes and tried to pull the events of the past thirty-six hours together. “Pure speculation here, but let’s run with it. Markos buys one of Caroline’s favorite flavors, opens the package, breaks off half and then, what? Puts peanuts in it? Wouldn’t she have noticed?”

Heidi pictured the scene in the elevator. The conversation, Caroline looking through her purse, finding the granola bar. Heidi continued to reason, “No, not tonight. She didn’t even look. She pulled the wrapper back an inch and took a bite. But he couldn’t have known she wouldn’t look at it. If he wanted to be sure she wouldn’t notice, he would have used something fine—peanut dust, tiny flecks of peanut, maybe he even used peanut oil, and dipped the granola bar in it and then slid it back in the wrapper. Would she react to an amount that small?”

Blake nodded. “It would be enough. She’s so sensitive to peanuts that we can’t eat in a restaurant with peanuts on the table or shells on the floor. The oils in the air will make her face tingle.”

“So he contaminates a bar and puts it in her purse? How did it get in her purse? Does she leave it out at work?”

He grimaced and nodded again. “We’ve never had a problem with theft. She leaves her purse in her office most of the time. Sometimes she brings it with her to the shift-change meeting if she’s leaving for an appointment or something.”

“What kind of appointments?”

“Any kind.”

“Personal or professional?”

“Either. Caroline is our Chief Financial Officer. The way our organization is structured, the sales and accounting staff all report to her. So she could be meeting with anyone from the people who service our printers to the clients who buy our finished product. Or she could have a dentist appointment. She doesn’t have a standing appointment on any one day, if that’s what you’re asking. Every day is different.”

“So maybe she brought her purse to a shift-change meeting and he slipped the contaminated bar in there?”

Would Caroline have noticed? Heidi didn’t know. She had to remind herself that the average American didn’t walk around assuming people were trying to kill them. An extra half of a granola bar wouldn’t look like a weapon. It would look like a snack.

“Did she leave early any day this week?”

Blake leaned back and rubbed his neck. “Maybe? I can’t remember.”

Heidi didn’t push him. Sometimes memories eluded people when they were stressed or fatigued, and Blake Harrison was both.

“Thursday,” Blake said after a few moments.

“What happened Thursday?”

“She had a hair appointment. I remember because I was annoyed that she was leaving.” He shook his head and Heidi could see the remorse on his face.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.”

“I need to tell her I’m sorry.”

Heidi didn’t know what to make of this guy. Smart. Strong. Stubborn. And a sensitive family guy? She’d always thought guys like this were an urban legend. Or a fairy tale.

Not that it mattered. She didn’t have time for fairy tales.

“You can apologize later. I think for now, we need to focus on why on earth someone is trying to take out your family. Because there’s a strong possibility that whoever put the granola bar in her purse also took her EpiPen. If that’s true, then we’ve got a bigger problem than we thought.”

“Which is?”

“They weren’t trying to scare her or distract her. They were trying to kill her.”

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