Mercenary's Perfect Mission. Carla Cassidy

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Mercenary's Perfect Mission - Carla  Cassidy


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you are.” His green eyes drifted downward, making her suddenly far too conscious of how tightly her borrowed T-shirt pulled across her breasts. She hunched her shoulders forward slightly.

      His gaze lingered there for just a second and then snapped back up to meet her eyes. “You worked as a secretary in the Community Center, meaning you obviously worked closely with Samuel. You might have some valuable information that could help all of us.”

      “So, basically what you’re saying is that you would like me to help you and your FBI friends.” She held his gaze intently. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you if you’ll get my son out of Cold Plains and back safely here with me. But, until that happens, I have nothing more to say to you.”

      His stare grew harder, colder but she refused to look away. If he wanted to use her, then she had no qualms about using him first.

      Samuel Grayson stood at the window in the large meeting room in the Community Center where an hour before he’d finished one of his nightly seminars. Although he’d given a rousing speech about love of community and building good lives here, the crowd had been smaller than usual and the sales of the healing tonic water after the meeting had been pathetic.

      You’re losing control, a little voice whispered inside his head. “No,” he said aloud. It was just growing pains and the result of the investigation he knew was taking place. People were on edge because of the FBI presence in and around town, and that meant he’d just have to work harder to assure them that he had things under control.

      Dammit, he’d thought he’d removed any danger to himself and his plans when he’d sent Dax Roberts, one of his most trusted men, to kill his brother. He’d known that if Micah had caught word of the investigations into the murders he wouldn’t be able to keep his nose out of things. It had been easier to take him out before he became a problem.

      Unfortunately, he knew he was under investigation for the murders of those women. He knew there were people in his own town working against him and it was getting more and more difficult to tell who could and couldn’t be trusted.

      His remaining henchmen—those not already in jail—had been working overtime, taking out the people who were overtly working against him, those who had taken a path in direct opposition of him.

      He felt as if the walls of the town were slowly closing in on him and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. He’d worked too hard and too long to be brought down by anyone. This was his town and he deserved all the power and money that had come along with it. He wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from him.

      He turned from the window, and as he walked out of the meeting room, he paused and stared at the desk where Olivia Conner usually sat.

      Yet another mystery, he thought. She’d simply vanished into thin air, leaving behind one of her children. He had no idea what had happened to her, had no idea if she was dead or alive. He’d put the child with the other one, hidden away in a secured location until he could find out what had happened to Olivia.

      He’d had a couple of his men check her house and they had reported back that nothing seemed to be missing—no clothes and no baby items. There had been a Crock-Pot plugged in with what appeared to be Swiss steak charred to a crisp. They’d unplugged the pot but had touched nothing else.

      It was possible she’d been grabbed off the street by the FBI because of her position at the Community Center. The joke would be on them. She knew nothing except how to schedule therapy sessions for him with the locals or renting out the space in the basement that was used for weddings and celebrations.

      They’d get nothing from her that could harm him. She’d been simply the office help, although he’d been close to turning her completely, and once that happened he wouldn’t have minded a little intimate time with her. She’d been a hot little number despite her two brats.

      Whatever had happened to her, it had appeared she’d had every intention of returning home the day that she had disappeared. If he didn’t hear from her soon, he would make the appropriate plans for Ethan. He would fetch a lot of money, a handsome little boy in perfect health. Just this thought alone made him feel more in control.

      He was going to be fine. The people against him would eventually drift away and he would continue his work here in Cold Plains. He wouldn’t be satisfied until everyone in town sported the small D tattoo on their hip that marked them as his.

      Chapter 3

      By six o’clock that afternoon, Micah realized they didn’t have enough diapers for Sam. “I feel terrible,” Olivia said as several of them sat at the table. “I have a huge box at home, but I never got a chance to go back there and grab anything before I took off.”

      “Not a problem,” Micah said. “I’ll sneak into town tonight to your house and grab whatever it is you need.”

      June gasped. “Micah, you know you’ll be shot on sight.”

      He smiled, a mirthless gesture that didn’t lighten the dark green hue of his eyes. “They’d have to see me to shoot me.”

      “I don’t want to put anyone in danger,” Olivia protested.

      He hadn’t seen her since their discussion that morning. Most of the time in the afternoons, Micah went to one of the darkest, smallest rooms in the cave and slept so he’d be prepared to stay up through the night when he could use the cover of darkness to explore Cold Plains.

      “I’ve been in town after dark several times before. It shouldn’t be too great a challenge to get into your house, grab some things and then get out,” Micah replied.

      June looked at him dubiously. “You could always drive into Laramie and pick up whatever is needed.”

      “That’s fifty miles away,” Micah replied. “Besides, I intended to go in tonight anyway and see if I can find out where they might be keeping your son. I’ve already put out the word to FBI agents working the case that we’re looking for the whereabouts of a three-year-old. All I really need from you is a list and a location and a house key if you have it. I’d rather go in through the door than break a window that might draw unwanted attention to your place.”

      “As important as the diapers are, I need you to find Ethan.” Her eyes were simmering pools of emotion, pools that if he wasn’t careful he felt like he might fall in.

      He knew nothing personal about Olivia Conner. He had no idea what had brought her to Cold Plains, what had happened to the father of her children or who she was at her core. But, what he did know was that she drew him as a woman, not as somebody to be used to further his goals.

      There was something about Olivia Conner that reminded him that he was more than just a mercenary, more than a hunter seeking the source of a deadly disease named Samuel in a small town.

      Something about her softness, her aura of vulnerability reminded him that he was also a thirty-eight-year-old man who had basically been alone for all of his life.

      “I just don’t want to be responsible for anyone getting hurt on my account,” she said.

      “Trust me, I have no intention of getting hurt,” he replied smoothly. “Just make me a list of things you want and as soon as it gets dark, I’ll go in.” He got up from the table, both uncomfortable with her nearness and knowing he needed to get some sleep before night.

      He decided to check in with Hawk and used his radio to call the agent. Cell phone usage was impossible amid the mountains and beneath the cave. So, old-fashioned handheld radios were still the best form of communication between the agents hiding out in the area.

      Minutes later, Micah left the cave entrance and made the long trek down the narrow passageway that would eventually lead him to the forest where he’d found Olivia and Sam.

      He got to the meeting place first and stood watchful, as usual listening for sounds of anyone else nearby. An unexpected bullet to the head had not only left him with killer migraines and a burning need


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