Kevin: Dragon Security Volume Two, #3

By Glenna Sinclair

Kevin is the third book of the Dragon Security Volume Two series, containing over 49,000 words of romantic suspense. For the best reading experience, it is highly recommended to start from the beginning with COLE, Dragon Security Volume One.

 

KEVIN

I couldn't believe it was her voice on the other end of the phone. She was the love of my life, my bride at the ripe old age of eight. But she crushed my heart and my reputation the moment we reached high school. We hadn't spoken in nearly nine years, yet I was the first call she made when she needed help. Her sister was getting married, and Kirsten wanted to stop the wedding. She knew I'd do anything for her baby sister, but she didn't expect that I'd take Dallas' side over hers. As fun as it was to annoy her, I hadn't expected the rush of old feelings that would come out as we spent the weekend trapped together. And when the groom-to-be turned up dead with Kirsten's gun under his body … I suddenly found myself in a trap that was bigger than old history.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Glenna Sinclair
• Release date: Jan 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9798224891078

Glenna Sinclair

Experience the heart-racing novels of Glenna Sinclair, the master of romantic suspense. Sinclair's books feature strong male protagonists, many with a military background, who face real-world challenges that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Books2read.com/GlennaSinclair Facebook.com/AuthorGlennaSinclair GlennaSinclairAuthor at Gmail dot com

Book preview

Prologue

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Kevin

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Come on, Jason, it’s a little late to get cold feet now!

I banged my fist on the heavy door, glancing down the hallway at the maid who was slowly making her way toward me. She smiled politely before turning to the door directly across from this one. I banged the door again.

Jason! After everything the two of you put me through this weekend, you had better not be late for this damn wedding!

There was no answer, no sound, nothing.

Need some help? the maid asked a moment later as she stepped out of the room across the hall.

I guess so, I said, stepping out of her way. My friend is getting married in fifteen minutes. We need to head over to the church.

I can unlock it, but you can’t tell anyone.

There was a flirt in her voice, an expectation that I had no intention of fulfilling. But I smiled back with my most charming smile.

If you could, I’d be eternally grateful, I said.

Her smile widened. She turned to the door and unlocked it with her universal key, pushing it open and moving out of the way so that I could enter. But she didn’t move far enough away. Our bodies brushed as I entered the room.

Thanks.

I stepped around her, aware my smile was already beginning to fade.

Jason had rented himself a nice suite, one with an amazing view of downtown Miami. The curtains were open, so it took me a moment to allow my eyes to adjust to the bright light. When they did, I saw a foot sticking out from behind the couch. Just a foot, twisted at an odd angle. I knew...I knew I wasn’t going to like what I was about to see. But I had to look.

And then the maid was screaming behind me.

Chapter 1

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Kevin

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Life at Dragon Security was never a bore, especially when the owner and most of the executive staff were credited with bringing down a rogue CIA agent five years ago. It gave us a reputation that we worked daily to live up to. But today the excitement seemed to revolve around the fact that one of our fellow operatives was currently standing in the parking lot, making out with a former client. To her credit, he was no longer her client. His case had ended more than a month ago.

But that didn’t stop another operative from getting his thrills by watching.

I slapped Kasey’s arm, snagging his sleeve and jerking him back from the window.

Give them a little privacy, I said.

They’re right there in front of the building, Kasey argued. They have no expectation of privacy.

Perv, Amelia, another of our operatives, said.

I just laughed, shaking my head as I turned back to my desk. I had a report I needed to write out before I could escape tonight. And I needed to be out of here within the next two hours if I didn’t want to be late for my date with Pamela. Since I’d been late the last three times we’d gone out, I supposed it would be best not to be late tonight.

Kevin!

Mag Bishop, our secretary, called to me from her perch at her slightly elevated desk. I’d once wondered why her desk was higher than the rest of ours, but when she looked over our little kingdom the way she was doing now, I knew. It was so she could watch over us and make sure we were keeping in line. And she had her hands full keeping this group of ragtag operatives in line.

What can I do for you, Mag?

You have a phone call. Line two.

Thanks. I snatched up the receiver, wondering if Pamela was already getting annoyed even though I wasn’t supposed to pick her up till eight. This is Kevin McKinsey. What can I do for you?

I can’t believe I’m making this phone call. You are the last person on earth I thought I would ever ask for help!

Kirsten?

I hadn’t heard that voice in years, not since I was eighteen. But it was one I would never forget. Kirsten was...she was so many things. My childhood nemesis, my next-door neighbor, the daughter of my mother’s best friend. Kirsten Kramer. She had made my life a living hell in high school. And maybe she’d decided she wasn’t quite done.

Who else? I need your help, Kevin.

With what? Is something wrong on the ranch? Is my dad okay?

It’s not about the ranch or your family. It’s Dallas. My sister is about to make the biggest mistake of her life!

I cursed under my breath. I should have known. Kirsten was something of a drama queen as a kid. And, from what my parents had told me, she hadn’t changed much with age.

Kirsten, I don’t have time for this!

I’m serious, Kevin. She’s trying to marry a guy she’s only known for like two weeks! Mom and Dad don’t seem concerned, but you know Dallas. She’s always doing things she shouldn’t and then paying a price later.

Maybe she loves the guy.

Kirsten snorted. Love? How could she love someone she’s known two weeks?

You’d be surprised how quickly a person can fall in love. But, again, you’d have to have a heart to feel love.

Oh, here we go! That’s the Kevin I know.

Why don’t you just let Dallas do what she wants to do? Butt out for once.

Because she’s my sister and, despite your opinion of me, I love her and I care about her future.

She’s an adult.

This guy she’s wanting to marry, his name is Jason Winston. He’s got a criminal record.

That made me stop for a second. Dallas was like my little sister; she was the adorable kid in pigtails who used to follow me around everywhere I went, asking a million questions even though she knew the answer to some of those questions better than me. The last time I saw her, she was an awkward thirteen-year-old girl with braces on her teeth. I’d been told she was quite a beauty now, a new graduate of the nursing program at Texas Tech University. A part of me couldn’t quite reconcile that information with the child I’d left behind when I joined the Marines.

What kind of criminal record?

There was a touch of satisfaction in Kirsten’s voice when she responded. He was arrested five years ago for stealing a car. And before that was an assault charge and a drug charge.

Was he ever convicted?

Well, no, but—

Kirsten, I don’t think—

Listen, Kevin, she met him at the ER where she’s been working for her training hours. He was there because he was in a car accident in a car that wasn’t his. Dallas doesn’t think it’s important, but I do. What if this guy is some sort of career criminal who’s just been too smart to get caught the last few years? And what if he pulls her down into that world? She’s just beginning her life. I can’t let her destroy it before it’s gotten off the ground.

She had a point, as much as I hated to admit it.

She called just a few minutes ago. They’re going to Miami to elope. Mom and Daddy think it’s the most romantic thing they’ve ever heard! But I can’t, in all good conscience, let it happen. But she won’t listen to me.

And you think she’d listen to me?

Yes. She’s always adored you, for whatever reason.

I don’t know, Kirsten. I’ve got a life here in Houston now. I can’t just drop everything and come running.

You owe her. Hell, you owe us all! You just walked away, like nothing mattered. Left Trevor and your parents without so much as a goodbye, and never came back even for the shortest of visits. Dallas used to sit down at the end of the road, watching for your car, waiting for the few letters you sent. It broke her heart when you left.

If she’d wanted to make me feel guilty, it was working.

What about you? Did you miss me when I left?

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, she sighed. Will you come or not?

Maybe she was right. I hadn’t been home in nearly nine years. And I’d been thinking about my parents a lot lately, especially my mom. She sounded tired whenever she called me these days, tired and a little frustrated with life. It wasn’t like her to sound that way.

And there was Dallas. I kept a picture on my desk, one taken at my high school graduation. I was still in my cap and gown and Dallas was wearing her Sunday best, a huge smile on her pretty face despite the braces.

It was a picture I carried with me all through basic training and my tours of duty in Afghanistan. And now it was in a silver frame my mother had sent me for Christmas last year. A piece of home that reminded me of where I came from and that there were people back there who still loved me.

Even if the one person who’d once mattered the most no longer did.

All right, I said. I can probably take a couple of days off.

Great. We’ll see you tomorrow.

She hung up. No thank you, no I appreciate your help. Nothing.

That was the Kirsten I knew.

***

It was more than seven hours in the car, back roads and two-lane highways. I drank a lot of coffee, eating quick meals at roadside diners, flirting with the harried waitresses so that they would bring me the freshest of the greasy food items. I wasn’t in a huge hurry. I considered stopping over night, but knew Kirsten well enough to know she would have a stroke if I didn’t show up when I promised. Besides, the sooner I was there, the better the chance I’d have to catch up with my folks. Since I hadn’t seen them in nearly nine years, that didn’t seem like a bad idea.

I arrived at the ranch late in the afternoon. It was a little surreal, driving past those gates. Half a mile back and the main house appeared behind an unnatural stand of oak trees that worked as a wind guard out here in the desert. It was a beautiful house, one with huge white pillars out front and black shutters decorating each of the long windows. Kirsten and I used to play tag around those pillars, along the porch, irritating the adults who were often trying to have a proper conversation over their glasses of tea.

But it was the back of the property where most of my memories lived. There was a garden back there that served as a great place for creating hiding places, little forts that only the two of us knew about. We’d sit out there until late in the night during the summer, reading by flashlight or telling silly ghost stories to each other. It was there that I told Kirsten some of my darkest secrets, the same secrets that she would use against me years later.

We grew up together from the time we were in diapers. Best friends forever. But then we became teenagers, began attending high school, and everything changed.

I followed the road past the main house, noting the slight differences in the landscape as it wound around the training paddocks for the thoroughbreds Carol Kramer raised herself. The main stables were off to the left, the stocks about two miles behind those. Off to the right was the narrow lane that led to the bunkhouse for the hired hands. Further down the lane was the foreman’s house.

That’s where I headed, my heart in my throat as I traveled the path I’d traveled millions of times throughout my childhood. I rode my bike here, rode horses back and forth here, drove my first car—a beautiful blue and black GTO—around these curves so fast that I gave a few girls a fright, including my mother, who once grounded me when I came into the yard too fast and kicked up dust over her prize roses.

It was all the same, including the roses. It was a three bedroom, ranch-style bungalow made of dark bricks. The garage door was open, my old man bent over the engine compartment of the old four-wheeler he’d used to survey the property since I could remember.

This thing still runs? I asked as I climbed out of my SUV, sliding off my sunglasses and walking up beside the man and the machine.

Occasionally.

My father shook his head as he stepped back, his eyes focused on the engine, as he wiped his hands. And then he looked up and his eyes widened as he focused on me.

Kevin?

He laughed, throwing himself at me, his arms pulling me into him in a massive bear hug that only a father can offer. I closed my eyes for an instant, and the familiar scent of my father—sweat, dust, animal dander, and just a hint of Old Spice—enveloped me. I’d not let myself feel how much I’d missed home until that moment, until his scent filled me with memories and emotions I’d pushed away for nine years.

I can’t believe you’re here! Why didn’t you call?

I would have thought Kirsten—

We have to tell your mother. She’ll be beside herself!

My father turned, screaming up toward the house. Rachel! Love, you will never guess who just drove up!

Quit your yelling, old man, my mother’s familiar voice called through the open garage door. I have a quiche in the oven!

Forget the quiche! Come out here and say hello to your son.

Trevor’s back? He was just here an hour ago.

Not Trevor.

What are you talking about? my mother mumbled as she stepped out the door, her hands on her hips. And then she spotted me and her stern expression immediately crumbled. She ran toward me, her hands outstretched, tears already streaming down her cheeks.

Kevin, she whispered as she took my face between her hands, pulling me down for an explosion of kisses across my cheek.

She was a small woman, my mother. Petite, but stronger than anyone I’d ever met. She had bright red hair that she’d always worn pulled back from her face. Her porcelain skin somehow managed to remain porcelain despite the constant exposure to the hot West Texas sun. And she had intense green eyes that always seemed to see right through the lies I tried—stupidly—to tell.

Hi, Momma, I said softly.

She