Page 11

NINE

He was in deep, there was no doubt about it.

Daniel pushed against the rocking chair on the enclosed porch and sipped his iced tea. The book his mother had bought him for Christmas rested on the wicker coffee table in front of him. Murder on the Banks . One of Ellie's books, though she published under a pseudonym.

That thought made him snort. Ellie Brooks wasn’t even her real name.

It was a strange feeling. To be so drawn to someone whose true identity he didn’t even know. Dangerous too. He’d been burned before. Ellie wasn’t his ex-wife, not at all, but the pattern remained the same.

Complicated women. They were his type.

Voices filtered from the kitchen. Cole had arrived two hours ago and promptly made himself useful by eating them out of house and home. Daniel glanced through the screen door and caught sight of his friend plowing through a slice of cherry pie. Unbelievable. How did he have room for it all?

Cole said something too low to catch, and Marta laughed in reply. She’d always liked Cole. Or maybe, like Daniel, she appreciated having another lawman on the premises.

Daniel set his empty glass down and picked up the hardback.

It had been published last year and featured a police officer tracking a serial killer.

The review quotes on the cover called it “thrilling” and “well-researched.” The author bio didn’t include a photo and was vague enough to protect Ellie’s identity.

Smart. It was unlikely the men hunting her had located her through her books.

The screen door creaked. Ellie stepped onto the porch in an oversized hoodie and jeans, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. She looked tired. Tense.

She crossed to the railing and breathed in deep. “It’s so pretty here. Peaceful.”

“It is. Owen go down okay?”

“He didn’t last through story time. Missing his nap really threw off his afternoon.” She turned to face him. “Putting him to bed this early risks a middle-of-the-night wakeup, but after his third meltdown, I figured he’d had enough.”

Ellie probably had too. Daniel hated to put her through a difficult conversation, but it needed to be done. He set the book back on the table and stood. There were about two more hours of sunlight left. Enough for a nearby stroll. “Want to see my favorite spot on the ranch?”

Her brow furrowed slightly, and then she nodded.

Daniel took her hand. Her skin was soft, the brush of her palm against his sending a jolt of attraction straight to his heart.

He ignored it, leading her off the porch and onto a pathway that curved around the house.

Beyond the last fence post, the land opened into a narrow trail shaded by oaks.

Wildflowers brushed their jeans as they moved between the trees.

He knew this path by heart, could walk it even in the dark.

Soon the faint sound of trickling water reached his ears. The creek bent in a gentle curve, the water catching the light in golden ripples. A few smooth boulders flanked the bank, and a weathered bench rested beneath an old pecan tree, half-shadowed by the overhang of leaves.

Ellie’s eyes widened. Her lips curved into a smile that nearly stole his breath. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. This is beautiful.”

“It was my hiding spot as a kid.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then let go.

“What were you hiding from?”

“I have six brothers and sisters. I was hiding from everyone.”

She chuckled. “I was an only child. My best friend, Lisa, lived next door and had three siblings. Two brothers and a younger sister. I came up with every excuse under the sun to hang out with them. The house was chaos and always loud, and there was a mess everywhere, but it was also warm and fun. Her mom baked all the time. To this day, the smell of chocolate chip cookies reminds me of a loving home.”

He cocked his head sideways, studying her. “Was it so different from your own house?”

“Night and day. My parents were professors. Bookish and introverted. No one ever raised their voice or played practical jokes. Don’t get me wrong, Mom and Dad loved me, but their idea of a good time was a documentary, not a midnight swim at the lake.

” She glanced at Daniel. “I guess, in the end, we always want what we don’t have. You longed for quiet. I wanted lively.”

He leaned one shoulder against the pecan tree. “Where are they now? Your folks, I mean.”

“Deceased. A car accident when I was in college.” She sighed. “Not everything I told people is a lie.”

“Must be hard. Keeping your story straight, facts mixed with falsehoods.”

She scoffed. “I’m a pro.” Ellie tucked her hands into the pocket of her hoodie. “My real name is Elizabeth Conway. Three years ago, I was a Special Agent with the FBI working undercover to infiltrate a white supremacist organization known as the Iron Fist.”

Daniel stiffened, his shoulders drawing back.

He wasn’t surprised to learn Ellie was an FBI Agent—he’d already deduced she was in law enforcement—but the Iron Fist connection ratcheted up the danger several notches.

The gang started in Austin but had expanded their operations to Houston and San Antonio.

They trafficked in drugs, illegal weapons, and people.

They were also known for their brutality. Murder and mutilation were the tip of the iceberg. The Texas Rangers took part in several active investigations connected to the gang, but so far, had been unable to dismantle the operation.

“How long were you undercover?” he asked.

“Two years. My mission was two-fold: identify the leader of the Iron Fist and obtain enough evidence to bring down the entire network. It took time, but I climbed into the upper ranks of the group and discovered that Gideon Voss was the leader.”

Daniel stared at her. “Gideon Voss? The businessman?” His mind whirled. Gideon had risen to fame by building a tech company and was well-connected to several powerful politicians. “Are you sure?”

Ellie gave a sharp nod, her voice like ice.

“Gideon owns legitimate businesses and uses them to mask his illegal ones. Money and power are his drugs of choice. He also deeply believes in the white supremacy ideology, which is obvious once you dig into his social media posts. Problem is, he’s also incredibly suspicious.

He controls the Iron Fist through a hand-selected network of lieutenants who are extremely loyal.

It's nearly impossible to breach their inner circle.”

Daniel leveled a glance her way. “Something tells me you still found a way in.”

A ghost of a smile touched her lips before fading.

“I befriended Gideon’s mistress, Lena Grainger.

” Ellie crossed to the bench under the tree and sat.

“Lena was eighteen when she met Gideon. He groomed her, abused her. By the time we met, Lena was twenty-five and desperate to escape. I flipped her. Convinced Lena that if she turned over evidence that led to Gideon’s arrest, the FBI would give her immunity for her crimes and a ticket to a new life. ”

She drew in a breath and let it out slowly.

“She was smart, Daniel. An experienced hacker and a mathematical genius. Slowly, Lena started feeding me information. Good information. The FBI was able to take down several big fish in the Iron Fist. But she was terrified of turning on Gideon. She was convinced that even with a new identity he’d find her. ”

Daniel heard the emotion in her voice. “You cared about her.”

Ellie nodded. “I did. When she called out of the blue and said she had the final piece—the thing that would bring Gideon down—I knew she’d finally had enough. She texted me a location.”

“You went alone?”

“We’d done it before. There wasn’t time to loop in my handler, and I trusted her.” She shook her head. “I should have been more careful.”

Daniel braced himself. “What happened?”

“The meeting point was an abandoned warehouse. When I arrived, I discovered Lena. Murdered. Before I could get out of there, an unknown assailant shot me.” Ellie removed her hands from the pockets of her hoodie and shifted the fabric, along with the shirt underneath, until a stretch of mottled skin on her abdomen was visible.

Gunshot wounds. The scars had faded to a dull white, but the starkness of the injury against her otherwise flawless skin ignited a wave of fury in him.

“I nearly died.” Ellie dropped her shirt and hoodie back into place.

“A couple of homeless people found me bleeding out and called 911. By the time I woke up in the hospital, the Iron Fist had a hit out on me. Whatever evidence Lena had collected was lost. There was no way to take Gideon down. It was decided the best course of action was to make everyone—including the Iron Fist—believe I’d died that day.

So Elizabeth Conway died, and Ellie Brooks was born. ”

Daniel joined her on the bench. Dragonflies skirted along the edge of the creek before flitting off into the trees. It was a lot to process, and he had so many questions. “When the attack at the church happened, did you suspect the Iron Fist was involved?”

“No. I genuinely believed Owen was the target. It was only after we discovered my house had been broken into and searched that I realized they’d found me.”

“Do you know what they’re looking for?”

She shook her head emphatically. “Not a clue. I was being honest about that.”

“Could it be the evidence Lena collected?”

“I suppose it’s possible, but it doesn’t make much sense. If I had it, I would’ve handed it over to the FBI a long time ago. Plus, the Iron Fist wouldn’t want the evidence found. They’d be more likely to kill me than to ask me to find it.”

All good points. Daniel put a pin in that for the moment. He turned to face her. “The burner phone. You used it to call the FBI, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I was given an emergency number to call in case my identity was ever compromised. No one answered. No one called back. I left several messages.” Her hands knotted together in her lap.

“The Iron Fist is rumored to have moles inside of several federal agencies. Based on the fact that we were attacked at the hospital, coupled with the lack of response to my emergency calls, I think it’s safe to say someone in the FBI ratted me out. ”

He agreed with that assessment. “And the phone call at the police station?”

“I was trying to reach my old boss, James Callahan, but he’s retired now. He’s one of the few people I trusted.” Her gaze grew distant. “I was betrayed. Twice. Somehow Gideon found out about my meeting with Lena, and I doubt it was from her.”

“Someone on your team leaked it.”

She jerked her head in agreement. “It’s the only logical conclusion.”

Daniel frowned. “Wouldn’t the mole have leaked your new identity earlier?”

“Probably. But only a handful of people knew I survived. My FBI file was sealed. Everyone else—my team, the Bureau, even my handler—believes I’m dead. That my cover lasted this long means the Iron Fist must’ve found me some other way.”

“But you don’t know how.”

“No.” Ellie hesitated and then reached out to touch his arm.

“I’m sorry, Daniel. I wanted to tell you everything earlier, but I was ordered to maintain my cover at all costs.

There are protocols when things go wrong…

Following them put you in danger.” She pressed her lips together as if to contain some runaway emotion. “I screwed up.”

“No, Ellie.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You did what you were ordered to do by people you trust. Now, given all that’s happened, we need to figure out a way to keep you and Owen safe.”

A determined look settled over her features. “The only way to keep Owen safe is by finding whatever the Iron Fist thinks I have and either destroying it or getting it into the right hands.” She pulled her hand from his and stood. “Which is exactly what I intend to do.”

He rose. “Not on your own.”

“No, Daniel. I can’t ask you to help me beyond keeping Owen safe.” A stubborn tilt jutted her chin up. “As it stands now, you’re compromised. Don’t you get it? This is an FBI case. Legally and technically, you’re supposed to loop them in. By not doing so, you’re putting your badge at risk.”

“I have no intention of risking my badge or informing the FBI about our investigation.” Daniel placed his hands gently on her shoulders before she could make a run for it.

“I know you’re scared, Ellie, and you have every right to be, but we can’t take on the Iron Fist on our own.

My superior, Lieutenant Rodriguez, can be trusted.

She may keep the team small and on a need-to-know basis, but she won’t put either you or Owen’s life at risk. I guarantee it.”

Ellie hesitated and then gave a small nod. “Okay.”

It wasn’t full trust—but it was something. And given the betrayals she’d endured, Daniel knew it meant everything.

He pulled her into his arms. She didn’t resist. Her head rested against his chest, and slowly, her rigid posture relaxed beneath his touch.

The rippling of the creek as it weaved around the rocks created a soothing backdrop.

The setting sun hadn’t left the sky, but the shadows under the pecan tree had deepened.

They needed to head back to the house soon.

But not yet.

Daniel held her closer. The silky strands of her hair tickled his chin, the scent of her shampoo filling his senses.

She was so delicate next to him, but there was an iron rod of steel running through her.

There had to be. Ellie was a survivor. She’d lost her home, her career, nearly her life.

Instead of curling up into a ball of anger, she’d started fresh.

Made friends. Built a career. Taken on a sick child.

He wanted to shield her from everything that came next. The urge was potent and overwhelming, and unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. But Daniel was wise enough to know his limitations.

He couldn’t guarantee safety or answers. But he could make her one promise.

She wouldn’t face it alone.