Shield of Valor: Keller County Cops, #2

By Melanie Atkins

Detective Mitch Ransom is in control of his life until he agrees to testify before the grand jury against a brutal serial killer. Then he's kidnapped, threatening his appearance in court, and finds himself trapped with a woman he doesn't like and believes he has to protect. Tiffany Golden, a police dispatcher, is trying to break the mold set for her by her stripper mother. She wants to become a cop and is on the road to reaching that goal when she's kidnapped along with Mitch and is forced to help him find freedom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melanie Atkins
• Release date: Jun 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393989592

Book preview

Chapter One

Put your hands up and keep 'em there. Both of you.

Keller County Detective Mitch Ransom whipped around. He knew that voice. It belonged to Sky Stringer, a low-life skunk he'd served with in Iraq. The ex-military man hunkered close by, brandishing a Taser and ogling Tiffany Golden, whom Mitch had just run into. Literally. The coffee on both of their coats attested to that.

Mitch slapped his belt. Damn. He wasn't wearing his duty weapon, and his cell phone was in the Jeep.

Tiffany stared at Stringer in wide-eyed panic.

Mitch took note of the empty, dark street corner before stepping forward. Stringer held the Taser loosely in his left hand, telling the detective that if he challenged Sky, he'd pay for it. So he simply glared at his former comrade.

Put the bug zapper away, Sky. Right now.

"Forget it, Detective. The lanky man in the tattered camouflage jacket spat the title as if it tasted bad and swung the weapon toward the leggy blonde. Tiffany Golden was a police dispatcher and a former beauty queen, and more of an acquaintance than a friend. Sky eyed her with want. Get your hands up, too, Tiffany. You're going with us."

Have you lost your marbles, Sky? Tiffany's eyes rounded. You and I went out, sure. But that doesn't mean you can order me around.

Tiffany? Mitch lifted a brow. She was too loud and bouncy for his tastes, but he never would've placed her with a skunk like Sky even if he'd known the jerk was out of jail. What the hell was going on?

Tiffany kept her well-manicured hands in the air. I was bored, okay? He's ex-military.

Yeah, with a dishonorable discharge. Mitch curled his lip. Not to mention that he's an ex-con.

You went to prison? She gaped at Sky.

Shut up, Mitch. The ex-con's cheeks darkened, and he glared at Tiffany. "I wouldn't have been caught if it wasn't for him."

I didn't buy liquor at the PX and sell it to the Iraqis like you and your pals did, Mitch said. Barker might've been the ring leader, but you were right behind him.

You turned us in, you cheese-eating rat. Might as well have stabbed me in the back.

Sky, go away without hurting us and maybe Mitch won't arrest you. Tiffany bumped Mitch's arm as if to convince him to acquiesce. I'm on my way out of town, and I can't—

Knock it off, blondie, Sky interrupted. I ain't lettin' either one of you go. I gotta take him, and you're a witness. My boss will kill me if I let you run your mouth.

I won't say a word. I promise. She shook her head. Just let me get to my car, and I—

Shut the hell up and be still! He scowled and waved the Taser.

Do what he says, Tiffany. Mitch stepped in front of her. Sky must have been hit in the head or something, especially if he wanted to involve the blonde dispatcher. She was flighty just like Mitch's mother had been, more trouble that she was worth. Not to mention unreliable and stuck on herself. He'd sooner be trapped with the sixty year-old librarian from the new branch on Hopkins Street.

Tiffany shoved him aside. Look, Sky—

I said for you to shut your pie hole. The former infantryman jerked his free hand to the left. That's my car. The red compact. Now, I'm gonna open the trunk and you're both gonna climb inside, real quiet like. We're going for a ride.

Like hell we are.

Mitch lunged for him, but a sizzling arc of electricity knocked him to his knees before he ever made contact. His muscles contracted. Tiffany screamed, grabbed his arm, and crumpled to the ground. Heat sizzled through his body. His arms and legs twitched, and pain settled deep into his bones. He struggled to breathe. How many volts had shot through him?

Sky snatched up Tiffany's bling-covered purse, pulled Mitch's wallet and badge from his pocket, and peered down at the two of them with amusement. Well, now. I'd say I just knocked down two birds with one little twitch of my itty bitty finger.

Anger roared through Mitch. He couldn't talk, much less move. All he could do was look on helplessly while the scum opened the car door and tossed Tiffany's bag and the symbol of his profession inside.

She blinked, opened her mouth, and slowly pushed herself to her knees, her strength already returning. She hadn't received a full jolt like he had. Her leather jacket flapped open.

D-Detective—

Shut. Up. Sky grabbed her coat, hauled her to her feet, and shoved her toward the car.

She tripped and caught herself on the bumper. No!

Get in.

Forget it. Leave. Me. Alone. She wobbled away from him.

He captured her arm, grabbed her wide silver belt, and tossed her unceremoniously into the gaping black abyss in the rear of his small import. Still off balance from the Taser sting, she squealed and yelled for help before Sky pulled out a roll of duct tape, ripped off a piece, and slapped it over her mouth. Then he bound her hands behind her and wrapped tape around her ankles. He shot her one last quelling glare and hustled back to Mitch.

Your turn, Detective, he said roughly. Just so you know, I ain't got no choice. Barker and me... we got in deep with the wrong guy. I gotta do this to save my own skin.

Huh? Wh-what are you... His question trailed off as he tried to string together enough words for a coherent sentence. It was impossible.

Sky grabbed his feet and dragged him into the shadows behind the car. Can't let you testify on Monday.

Son of a bitch. The Grand Jury. I should've known.

Mitch ground his teeth. He was supposed to testify against Vincent Delgado, an alleged serial killer he'd arrested a week ago. The scumbag, dubbed The Handyman by the media, had been denied bail and remanded to the county jail pending indictment, a fate that was practically guaranteed thanks to the preponderance of evidence against him. Evidence dug up by Mitch, except for a single hair found in one of the tarps Delgado had used to wrap his victims.

Suddenly, his abduction made perfect sense. Without Mitch's testimony, that hair might not be enough to have Delgado bound over for trial. But what about Tiffany?

His head thumped against the curb as Sky dragged him closer to the car, and pain shot down his spine. His thoughts scrambled.

Whoa. Sky chuckled. Bet that hurt.

Mitch cut his eyes back to the sidewalk, hoping somebody would come along. Anybody, even though he hadn't seen a soul anywhere close while he lay sprawled on the cold concrete. Where were all of Hunter's Bayou's early morning joggers?

He looked back at Sky. Damn, even his eyeballs throbbed.

With a dark curse, Sky grabbed Mitch's arm and hefted him against the car, holding him upright while he tore off a strip of duct tape and slapped it over his mouth. Then he shoved Mitch into the trunk on top of Tiffany.

She squealed in her throat and kicked at him with her bound feet. Unable to move or speak, he could only shake his head in apology.

Sky bound Mitch's wrists behind his back before winding the tape around his ankles and shoving him away from the blonde. She glared at him as if this were all his fault, and he had to agree. If he wasn't lined up to testify against Delgado, they'd both be on their way to separate destinations instead of being trussed up like chickens on their way to slaughter.

Enjoy the ride. Sky snickered. He looked around and slammed the trunk, cloaking them in darkness.

Mitch growled a bitter oath behind the tape and wondered how in hell he was going to escape and protect Tiffany. Sky obviously had designs on the dispatcher, and Mitch might be tempted to believe she wanted him, too, if she hadn't so vehemently denied liking the dirt bag.

The car started, and the thick odor of motor oil drifted over him. He cursed again. Kidnapped by Sky Stringer, the embarrassment of his National Guard unit. What were the odds? Mitch's partner, Jonah McKee, would never let him live this down, even though Sky was clearly working for Delgado or one of his associates. The alleged killer was organized, right down to his chosen brand of tarps, yet Mitch doubted he'd settle for kidnapping when trying to keep evidence from the grand jury. Cold-blooded murder was more his style.

Um... ugh. Tiffany rolled to face him, but the blackness was so complete he couldn't even see her bright hair. She bumped him with her shoulder and muttered something unintelligible. The enticing scent of her flowery shampoo mingled with the trunk's oily odor, a reminder that Sky might make a move on her when they reached their destination.

She had to be scared. Hoping to ease her fears, Mitch mumbled words of encouragement even he couldn't understand. Then he stifled a groan. They were both bound hand and foot and sounded like aliens, so how could they possibly help each other?

The car jerked to the right, which meant Sky was turning west toward New Orleans. Mitch braced himself and pictured the grid that made up Hunter's Bayou, pinpointing exactly where they'd been when Sky had kidnapped them. On Griffin Street, near St. Marks, not four blocks from his apartment.

Frustration chewed at his raw nerves. Usually he worked on Fridays, but this week he'd taken two extra days off to head to his uncle's fishing cabin at Toledo Bend near the Louisiana-Texas line. Which was why he wasn't armed when Sky had stopped them. For once, he wished he was as big a show-off as some of his fellow detectives who wore their weapons like super-hero capes so everyone would know what bad-ass cops they were.

Crap. Dawn hadn't even broken yet. As far as his buddies knew, he was on his way out of town to enjoy a weekend of early spring fishing. Nobody would miss him for a while.

Tiffany poked him, and he abruptly realized she'd rolled away.

What are you doing? he snapped, irritated when the question came out as a series of odd grunts.

He resisted the urge to laugh, mainly because it would consume too much oxygen and he was already lightheaded. Feeling was gradually returning to his limbs, prickling his skin and making him antsy, and he didn't want anything to slow his recovery from the shock he'd received. The car kept moving and as he slowly regained control of his motor functions, he moved his limbs and tugged on the tape.

Tiffany tapped him again, shoving her hands against his stomach until he wanted to slug her. Then he finally realized that if he turned over, their fingers would meet and they could try to undo the tape binding each other's wrists.

Hope filled him as he clumsily rocked onto his left side so he faced the front of the vehicle. The compact slowed and then rolled forward again, telling him they were still inside the city limits, probably at an intersection.

Have to get free before we get too far from town.

Mitch closed his eyes and prayed Tiffany could use her long red fingernails to rip the tape off his skin. He'd give her a chance first, instead of trying to undo hers at the same time and tangling their fingers. The idea sent a charge through him.

She scratched at his top wrist until he was certain she'd drawn blood, and then she scratched some more. He flinched from the pain but honestly didn't care if he did bleed, as long as she freed him. If only he had his weapon.

Be still, Tiffany ordered through the tape, knowing Detective Ransom couldn't possibly understand what she said.

He grunted in response and turned his head.

Damn it, she murmured, wishing she could bite through the tape over her mouth so she could talk. Unfortunately, Sky had stuck the sticky stuff on so tight she couldn't move her lips, much less gnaw at the tape.

She'd wanted to search for a trunk latch, but the vehicle was so old it probably didn't even have a release. And besides, the car's movement had rolled her against Mitch. So after she'd finally gotten his attention and he'd turned over, she'd concentrated on trying to peel off the tape. It was all she could think of to do. Fear bubbled up inside her when she thought of their predicament, but she shoved it down and kept picking at the sticky substance glued to his skin.

Be strong, she told herself. Mitch thinks you're nothing but a bumbling blonde idiot, and now's the time to prove him wrong. He probably hadn't even figured out she'd bumped against him on purpose in The Java Bean, trying to get him to stay inside for a few extra seconds after she'd noticed Sky lurking outside. Just like he didn't know—nobody knew—how hard she was working to move up from her current job as sheriff's department dispatcher.

Focus. You can do this.

She firmed her lips and continued to claw at his bound wrists. At least he was cooperating. The end of the tape stuck up now, but she couldn't get a decent grip on it because her wrists were bound at an odd angle.

Just as she managed to get a fingernail under the edge of the thick tape, the car bounced a couple of times, creaked loudly, and jarred to a stop.

She sucked in a startled breath and eyed Mitch over her shoulder. All she could see was the broad expanse of his shoulders rising behind her like a dark mountain. She nudged him with her tied hands.

What do we do now? she asked, knowing he couldn't possibly understand her. A lump of fear lodged in her chest.

He rolled partway onto his back and peered at her. She couldn't see his eyes, but she recognized the rapid pace of his breathing and knew instinctively that he was every bit as agitated and worried as she was.

The driver's door slammed.

Mitch flinched. Then he clumsily grabbed her fingers and gave them a reassuring squeeze. That simple gesture told her they were in this together, that they would fight Sky as one. And that gave her courage.

A key rasped in the trunk lock and the lid swung open, admitting soft purple light. She blinked and realized the sun had breached the horizon while they'd been riding. She drew in a shaky breath and recognized the muddy odor of the river. They must be just outside of Hunter's Bayou, because they hadn't gone far.

Time to get out. Sky's rough growl seemed amplified in the early morning quiet. He leaned into the trunk and grabbed Tiffany's elbow. Don't fight me, blondie, or you'll pay.

Stop calling me that, she snapped, the words a garbled mess. She wanted to know why he'd kidnapped them. Must have something to do with Mitch, because she hadn't even spoken to Sky since their ill-fated date. What an ass. She bristled at the thought of being under his control, even for a little while.

He chuckled, dragged her out of the smelly trunk, and propped her next to him on the gravel. Her ankles were bound so tightly her feet had gone to sleep, and she lost her balance.

Sky steadied her. Whoa there, sweetheart. Don't move.

Like I could run, she muttered, just to frustrate him. He shot her a vicious glare, and her anger burned hot. She longed to hit him but knew she couldn't, so she focused on the world around her. They were indeed near the river, next to a ratty, deserted pier and a rundown metal building with dented brown walls. Tall, reedy-looking grass grew along the base of the building, and the railing beside it was rusted. Nobody had been here for a while.

With a disgusted smirk, Sky pulled out the Taser and cocked his head at Mitch. What's it gonna be, buddy? Will you let me get you out without a fight, or do I have to zap you again?

Mitch's blue eyes blazed with banked hatred, and he mumbled something foul beneath the tape. Having a good idea what it was, Tiffany cracked a smile, which hurt like the devil.

Best case scenario, the detective was supposed to be on duty, which meant that either his partner or his captain would come looking for him when he didn't show up for his shift. She hoped that was the case. If not...

You're being way too quiet, Sky said, aiming the Taser at Mitch, so I'm thinking I might have to use this.

No! he shouted, the only intelligible word he'd said yet. He bobbed his head and growled at Sky.

The jerk grabbed his shirt and hauled him out of the trunk. Pain flared in the detective's eyes as he landed awkwardly on his bound feet. He winced and threw himself at Sky, who backhanded him across the face. Mitch fell against the car with a deep groan, blood trickling from his nose.

Try it again, you rat bastard, and I'll fucking kill you. Their captor stared at him as if daring him to move, then squatted beside Tiffany and pulled out a pocket knife.

Mitch grunted.

Sky looked up. Relax, Detective. I'm just gonna cut the tape off her legs so she can walk. Then I'll undo yours, if you won't run. After that last stunt, you'd sure as hell better not.

Mitch glowered down at him and shook his head.

Fine. He returned his gaze to Tiffany's ankles. She jerked when he went to work on the tape stuck to her blue jeans, but otherwise she stayed still.

The moment the tape was gone, she kicked him. His head snapped back, and the knife skittered across the gravel. She bolted.

Pebbles flew as he jumped to his feet and sped after her, cornering her in three strides and throwing her against the car.

Not smart, sweetheart. He slammed her into Mitch, who struggled to stay upright. His feet were still tied, or she knew he'd help her.

Apparently satisfied she wouldn't run again, Sky silently sawed through the tape binding Mitch's ankles. Once he was done, he pressed the blade of the knife to the detective's groin and snatched up the Taser. Then he came to his feet.

Mitch swallowed but didn't try anything.

That's more like it, Sky growled. My boss has given me free rein, and I won't hesitate to cut either one of you.

Who's your boss? Tiffany asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Sky ignored her mumbled question and gave Mitch a shove toward the warehouse. Move. Time to see your new home.

Still weak from the voltage that had seared his flesh, the detective lost his balance.

Tiffany stepped up beside him and tried to steady him, but he fell anyway and tripped her. With a muffled squeal, she landed flat on his hard chest and was suddenly up close and personal with his gorgeous face. She was surprised to see dozens of tiny green flecks in his deep azure eyes. Flecks that matched the green of her eyes.

He bucked beneath her, probably because his arms were bound beneath him, and the motion struck her as incredibly erotic. Heat flooded her face. She tried to get up, but couldn't get enough leverage with her hands tied behind her.

Sorry, she mumbled, hoping he'd understand.

Sky yanked her up. Either you're incredibly clumsy, or you did that on purpose.

"I did not." Cool air washed over her, reminding her just how hot Mitch's body had been. The contact had been purely accidental. So why was her heart beating so fast?

Mitch rolled onto his knees and stared at her.

She blinked.

Get up, Ransom. Sky grabbed his arm and hoisted him to his feet. I know you're not that damned weak. Walk to the warehouse with Tiffany. If you fight me or try to run, I'll give you a repeat of the high voltage mambo. Got that?

The detective narrowed his eyes and looked ready to dash away, until a sleek black car rolled into the parking lot.

Go ahead. Try it, their captor snarled.

Mitch straightened and glanced at Tiffany.

She was stunned by the stoic resignation on his face. Who was in the car? The vehicle halted in front of them and the driver climbed out. Her stomach churned. The man was dressed in black, had a dark cap pulled low over his face, and had made no attempt to hide a thick silver scar marring his left cheek. Her hackles went up.

Mitch nudged her and shook his head, as if instructing her to keep her mouth shut. She nodded. Remaining mute with that freak in front of her was not a problem. Seriously.

The driver opened the limo's rear door, and a tall, sinewy man with a wicked looking snake tattoo on his wrist exited the vehicle. He poked his head back inside and spoke briefly to another person Tiffany couldn't see. Then he slammed the door and turned, his rabid eyes landing on Mitch. A menacing smirk tilted his lips.

The detective uttered an expletive.

In response, the driver pulled out a big black pistol. Tiffany wanted to grab Mitch's hand but knew it was impossible. She held her breath as the second man sauntered up to Mitch.

Well, well, well. If it ain't my old boot camp buddy, he said. Sarcasm dripped from every syllable. You seem to have run into a little problem, Ransom. Too bad you won't be at the courthouse when the grand jury convenes on Monday.

The detective tensed.

Sky? The stranger turned to Tiffany. Who is this, and why is she here? The boss told you to bring Detective Ransom, not some street corner bimbo.

Tiffany lifted her chin. You pompous bastard.

Mitch sent her a warning glare.

She was with him, dude, Sky said, his words scrambling over each other. I couldn't just leave her there once she'd seen me. She woulda—

Shut up!

Sky snapped his mouth closed.

The other man looked