Page 2 of Trapped (Sheppard & Sons Investigations #6)

Nathan

N ew guy gets the coffee was the Sheppard you’ll never find her. Texas was one big-ass state. The second biggest in both population and land area.

You don’t know her last name.

It didn’t matter. I couldn’t get her out of my head. If I tried hard enough and wanted to cross more than one ethical boundary, I could find her. But I wasn’t willing to cross those lines. Not anymore.

I gripped the steering wheel as memories of blurring those lines crossed my mind. Being deep undercover required it, and I’d hardened myself to the task for the greater good, but I still carried the guilt.

I’d never killed an innocent, but I’d hurt a few.

I ran my hand through my hair, my thumb feeling the bumpy, rough edge of the scar on my left cheek.

A reminder of the life I’d left behind when I quit Hawken’s Security Company, a black ops company that hired former spec ops guys, like me, to do a hell of a lot more than provide personal protection.

Often off the books, which meant if shit went south, we were on our own.

A chill, that had nothing to do with the A/C blowing in my truck, ran down my spine.

After parking, I took a few minutes to focus on the present and calm my nerves. I released my vice-like grip on the steering wheel and flexed my hands a few times to get the blood flowing again.

Time for the new guy to get the coffee.

I walked into Grannie’s, a cute coffee shop owned by my boss’s wife, John to be specific.

The shop had an eclectic mix of coffee shop and old western saloon decorations like cowboy hats, old-fashioned colored glass bottles and black and white photos.

It stood out from the boring chain ones, and I had a feeling I’d like it.

Soft country music filled the space, as did the smell of rich warm coffee. Glancing around, I saw Jamie’s wife, Emily, two seconds before I heard it.

A sound I hadn’t heard in a year.

A sound I’d dreamed about during my captivity and every day since.

A sound I didn’t think I’d ever hear again.