Lisa Phillips - Murder Mix-Up

His brother was the intended victim...

Now someone’s after him in this Secret Service Agents story

After a man is killed while carrying his brother’s navy ID, Secret Service agent Declan Stringer is determined to figure out why—even if it turns a killer’s sights on him. But first he must convince NCIS agent Portia Finch to partner with him on the case. As attraction sparks between them, Portia knows she’s on dangerous ground...because Declan is hiding deadly secrets.

LISA PHILLIPS is a British-born, tea-drinking, guitar-playing wife and mom of two. She and her husband lead worship together at their local church. Lisa pens high-stakes stories of mayhem and disaster where you can find made-for-each-other love that always ends in a happily-ever-after. She understands that faith is a work in progress more exciting than any story she can dream up.

Also by Lisa Phillips

Secret Service Agents

Security Detail

Homefront Defenders

Yuletide Suspect

Witness in Hiding

Defense Breach

Murder Mix-Up

Double Agent

Star Witness

Manhunt

Easy Prey

Sudden Recall

Dead End

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Murder Mix-Up

Lisa Phillips

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09496-2

MURDER MIX-UP

© 2019 Lisa Phillips

Published in Great Britain 2019

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

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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“I’m Portia Finch.”

“NCIS special agent, I know.” Declan couldn’t help the smile.

She nodded, and a smile curled one corner of her lips. “It’s nice to meet you, Declan. Despite the circumstances.”

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or not that the body wasn’t my brother. Someone is still dead.”

“I’ll keep you apprised of what I find out.” Portia pulled a card from the inside pocket of her coat and handed it to him.

She wasn’t giving him her number for any other reason, either. Despite the first flicker of what he recognized as attraction on his part.

Just a little zing. Could be more. Was he going to find out?

“There’s a whole lot of work to do to sort out this mess.” Her gaze snagged on something over his shoulder. “I—”

But before she could finish, shots rang out.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for joining me on this journey with Portia and Declan. I’ve wanted to write an NCIS book for a long time and am excited for the possibility of more to come! Portia and Declan are both take-charge people, independent and strong enough to take care of themselves. Sometimes that can seem like a recipe for disaster, but I’ve found in my own marriage that often it’s the similarities between partners that make the relationship stronger.

Portia and Declan both had hurt from the past which scarred them emotionally. Neither was easier or harder to bear than the other—it was simply their experience. Hurts come in all shapes and sizes, but we have a God who delights in being our Comforter. And in bringing people into our lives who will show that comfort to us. I pray that He is doing that for you, and that you can see it.

If you wish to write to me, my email address is lisaphillipsbks@gmail.com and you can find out about my books through www.authorlisaphillips.com.

God bless you richly,

Lisa Phillips

But I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips should asswage your grief.

—Job 16:5

To my fabulous writer friends. Strong like Portia, and loving like Declan. A great match!

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

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

NCIS Special Agent Portia Finch watched as the medical examiner zipped the body bag closed. Crouched as she was, her boots sinking into the soft earth of the state park, the sound eclipsed all thought for a second. Why it should hit her now—with this case, rather than all the others she’d investigated in her years as a navy cop—she didn’t know.

An approaching car snapped her out of her thoughts. A silver four-door, American brand. A rental? Whoever was in the driver’s seat pulled between her car, the duty SUV her teammates had driven and the medical examiner’s van. Determined to be seen, whoever they were. Determined to get here.

A dark-haired man in a gray suit climbed out. Portia watched the local sheriff make his way to the man.

The medical examiner cleared his throat. He had deep lines around his wise eyes that crinkled as he stared at her with that knowing look. But he didn’t ask what was in her head—not here. When he stood, his knees popped. “I’ll know more about the deceased after I get him back to the office.”

“Thanks, Alejandro.” Portia stood while the medical examiner and his assistant lifted the body onto a stretcher. She eyed the silver car again, then made her way over to where two of her team members were busy taking pictures of the bullet that had embedded itself in the tree.