Covert Justice - Lynn Huggins Blackburn Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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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

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