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Special Agent

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Год написания книги
2019
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ONE (#u04d35284-e1dd-519a-b698-161f4c3982a9)

FBI agent Max West squared his shoulders and forced himself to walk away from the latest scene of destruction.

His job there was done. Unfortunately, the Dupree family crime syndicate, at least what was left of it, seemed determined to keep him and his team scrambling by randomly setting off bombs. Opal, his K-9 explosives detection partner, worked very well but it was frustrating to be called in after the fact.

He paused in the shade of an enormous oak and phoned Dylan O’Leary, the team’s computer guru, on his cell. “I’m done with this one. Just the usual leftover components and a lot of jumpy people.” Max sighed. “At least there was no loss of life this time. That family caught in the blast zone on the last one nearly made me turn in my badge.”

“So, what now?” Dylan asked. “You thinking of leaving Northern California and heading home to Billings?”

“Maybe soon. I thought I’d look into the backgrounds of some of the Dupree underlings we’ve scooped up while I’m in the neighborhood. See if we missed anything on the first sweep.”

“Little fish in a big pond,” Dylan reminded him. “We got Reginald Dupree, the real brains behind the drug operation.”

Max nodded. “While his uncle Angus kidnapped one of our best men and escaped. Has there been any word on Agent Morrow’s whereabouts?”

“Sorry. No.”

“Okay.” Max opened the rear door to his black SUV to air it out before letting his brown-and-white Boxer, Opal, get in. “I checked our files last night and was on my way to the Garwood Horse Ranch when I got diverted to this call. Vern Kowalski, one of the Dupree drug runners, had ties there. When we arrested him he insisted he was working alone but it won’t hurt to check. I can use a break and so can Opal.”

“You’re the boss, Boss.”

Max barely chuckled. Being SAC, special agent in charge, of the Classified K-9 Unit was no picnic. A lot of responsibility rested on his shoulders, responsibility that weighed heavily. Yes, he considered this job his calling, but that didn’t mean he never felt the pain of loss, never wished he’d been more successful and had prevented every explosion, every injury. Every death.

Closing his eyes for a moment he reminded himself that he was just a man, giving his all in terrible situations. Then he loaded his dog, climbed behind the wheel and continued his interrupted trip to the nearby ranch.

* * *

Katerina Garwood was halfway between one of the stables and the house, heading for her old suite, when she saw an imposing black vehicle pass beneath the ornate wrought iron arch at the foot of the drive. Unexpected company was all she needed. If her father came outside to see who it was and caught her trespassing on his precious property he’d be furious. Well, so be it. There was no way she could run and hide in time to avoid encountering the new arrival—and perhaps her irate dad, as well.

Chin high, she paused in the wide, hard-packed drive and shaded her eyes. The SUV reminded her of one that had assisted the county sheriff on the worst day of her life. The day when all her dreams of a happy future had gone up in flames.

Darkly tinted windows kept her from getting a good look at the driver until he stopped, opened his door and stepped partway out. Prepared to tell him to head up to the house if he needed to speak to someone in charge, she took one look and was momentarily speechless. The blond, blue-eyed man was so imposing and had such a powerful presence he sent her usually normal reactions whirling. When he spoke, his deep voice magnified those unsettling feelings.

“Katerina Garwood?”

“Do I know you?”

“No, but I know you. I’m Special Agent West. I’d like to talk to you about Vern Kowalski.”

“I have nothing to say.” She started to turn away.

“This is not a social call, Ms. Garwood.” He flashed a badge and blocked her path. “I suggest you reconsider.”

“FBI? You have to be kidding. I am so unexceptional that until recently people hardly noticed me.”

“They do now, I take it.”

She blushed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah.”

“Then you’ll understand why I need to speak with you.”

A quick glance toward the house told her she and the hunky agent had not yet been noticed. That was too good to last. As soon as one of the hands or the foreman, Heath McCabe, spotted her, word would get to her father and he’d be on the rampage again.

“Not here. Not now. We can meet in South Fork later. I work at the Miner’s Grub diner, on Main, near where the American River forks.”

He quirked a brow. “What’s wrong, Ms. Garwood? You seem nervous.”

“It’s personal.”

“Everything is when you get right down to it.” He reached for her arm as a familiar white pickup truck pulling a matching horse trailer rounded the nearest of three identical, rectangular stables and came to a stop.

She jerked free. Backed away. Her sky-blue eyes had widened and she was trembling. “I have to go. Now.”

“Care to tell me why?” Max’s gaze was unwavering. “Perhaps you’d better come with me and wait in the car while I have my K-9 partner check this place.”
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