Paula Graves - The Secret of Cherokee Cove

“Private Moreland,” he said aloud as the younger man approached.

Moreland, to his amusement, came close to snapping to attention before his expression shifted with recognition, and a grin spread over his face. “Sarge!”

They shook hands with pleasure; then Nix got down to business, introducing Dana and letting her explain what she’d walked in on.

“It happened too quickly for me to get much of a look at the intruders,” she said with regret. “I think they were wearing gloves, but I can’t be sure.”

“It’s okay,” the other evidence technician, who introduced himself as Blalock, assured her. “If there’s anything here to find, we’ll find it.”

Dana watched them enter the house, looking as if she wanted to tag along for the search. Nix distracted her by picking up her suitcase, which still lay on its side on the porch.

“I can get that,” Dana said, but Nix waved her off.

“I’ve got it.”

“You seem awfully interested in getting me away from here,” she said in a tone that was just short of suspicious. He supposed he couldn’t blame her for being wary of someone she’d met only a couple of hours earlier under less-than-pleasant circumstances.

“Mostly, I’m interested in getting us both somewhere a little warmer.”

She looked as if she wanted to argue, but headlights appeared in the dark, moving toward them on the narrow, dead-end road. The unmistakable shape of a Ford Mustang finally came into view. Laney Hanvey, Nix thought as the black Mustang squeezed into the narrow space between the TBI van and Nix’s truck.

The lady herself got out of the Mustang and hurried to where he and Dana stood on the porch, her gaze widening as she took in Dana’s bloodied condition. “My God, did they attack you?”

“Not on purpose,” Dana assured her, though Nix thought she was probably glossing over the violence of what had happened to her. “I just got bowled over and hit the porch rail.”

“I should take you to the hospital, get you checked out.”

“No,” Dana said quickly. “I’m fine, really. It looks worse than it is.”

“How’s the chief?” Nix asked.

“Groggy. The doctor wants him to stay a day or two, maybe get some rehab for the leg. You can imagine his delight.” Laney made a face, but Nix could tell that she was relieved that her fiancé was feeling well enough to complain. “The break-in just gave me an excuse to make him obey his doctor’s orders.” She glanced at the front door, which the technicians had finally shut, probably to keep out the cold. “How bad is it?”

“A big mess in some rooms,” Dana answered. “Not so bad in the others.”

“Was anything missing?”

“I’m not sure.” Dana looked apologetic. “You’d probably know better than I would.”

“I think I’ll stick around, then, see what the technicians come up with. Dana, if you’d like to stay at my place tonight, you’re welcome. It’s over in Barrowville, but that’s actually closer to the hospital.”

“I don’t want to put you out—”

“I’ll be going back to the hospital when I’m through here,” Laney said with a shrug. “You’re welcome to my guest room. The bed’s already made up. You can help yourself to anything you can find in the kitchen.”

“My car’s blocked in,” Dana said.

“I’ll drive you,” Nix offered.

Dana looked at him. “Okay. Thanks.”

Nix carried her suitcase to his truck, setting it in the back.

Dana eyed the open truck bed. “Sure it won’t tumble out?”

“That’s part of the adventure,” he murmured in her ear, sneaking a quick whiff of that floral scent that made his gut tighten with desire. He rounded the front of the truck and looked at her across the roof of the cab. “Will it fall out or won’t it?”

Her green eyes glittered with amusement in the moonlight. “Easy for you to say. They’re not your clothes.”

The truck’s heater decided to work when Nix cranked the engine, blowing a blast of cold air into his face. On the passenger side, Dana gasped and reached to close the vents.

“Give it a few minutes and it might blow warm,” Nix said, buckling up.

Dana looked at him as she belted herself in. “How badly do you want to go home in the next little while?”

He arched an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

Her lips curved in a slow smile. “How about we go see a groggy man with a broken leg about a break-in?”

Chapter Three

Dana’s brother was a big guy, tall and well built, as their father had been, but lying in the hospital bed, with his leg propped up and encased in a thick white cast, he seemed shockingly vulnerable and young. His eyes were closed when she and Nix entered his room, but they fluttered open when she pulled up a chair next to his bed.

He smiled a loopy smile and flailed one arm toward her. “Hey there.”

She smiled. “Hey yourself.”

“Is it morning?” He turned his head toward the window. The curtains were closed, blocking his view of the world outside.

“No, it’s just a little after ten. We had to talk our way in past the nurses.”

He rubbed his hand over his eyes as if to clear out the sleep. He peered at Nix, who stood quietly near the end of the bed. He gave a nod. “Nix.”

Nix’s lips hinted at a smile. “Chief.”

Doyle’s brow furrowed suddenly as he turned his groggy gaze back to his sister. “How big a mess did they make at my house?”

“Not too bad,” she told him, purposefully glossing over the truth to keep him from worrying. She had stopped downstairs in the women’s bathroom to change out of her bloodstained shirt into a fresh blouse, but she hadn’t been able to comb all of the blood out of her hair, opting to pull her auburn hair back into a ponytail to hide the worst of it. The tug of the elastic on the grazed skin of her scalp wasn’t exactly pleasant, but she’d live.

“Laney’s there still?”

“Yes. She’s going to stay until the evidence technicians get through with their investigation.”

“You got the TBI out at this time of night?”

Nix’s lips twitched again. “I might have emphasized the fact that you’re the chief of police and that there have been previous attempts on your life.”

“What were they looking for?” Dana asked.

Doyle’s gaze swung back to her. “Certainly not money.”

She smiled. “No, I suppose not.”

“I don’t keep any case files at home,” he added. “Although—”

“Although what?” she prodded when he didn’t continue.

Doyle glanced toward Nix, not answering.

“I have a phone call to make,” Nix murmured, leaving the room almost as quietly as he’d entered it.

Dana pulled her chair a little closer, laying her hand on her brother’s arm. “What didn’t you want Detective Nix to hear?”

“It’s nothing, really. I don’t suppose there was any reason to try to keep it secret from him or anyone. It’s just—I’ve come across some strange information recently, and I’m not sure what to think about it.”

“What kind of strange information?”

Doyle’s focus tightened, and for the first time since Dana had entered the hospital room, he seemed to be fully awake. “Remember a few months ago when I arrested my chief of detectives for kidnapping a local girl?”

“Not exactly the sort of thing I’d be likely to forget,” she said drily.

He smiled weakly. “No, I suppose not. Anyway, during the interrogation, Bolen said something that struck me as odd when he was explaining why they’d kidnapped the girl.”

“I thought you said it was all about putting pressure on the girl’s father to keep the Bitterwood P.D. alive and kicking.”

“It was,” Doyle said with a nod. “But I didn’t tell you the rest of it.”