Murder Under The Mistletoe. Terri Reed

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      After shutting the barn door, Tyler retraced his steps to the back of the farmhouse and entered the back door. He threw the bolt into place.

      “What did you see?” Heather’s whispered question brought him up short. He spun around and could just barely make out her form. She stood in the archway of the kitchen, the frying pan clutched in her hands.

      Achingly familiar with the damage the utensil could inflict, he kept his distance. “Someone was in the barn. They ran away when they realized I was there.”

      “I can’t believe how paranoid I’m being,” she said, laying the frying pan on the counter. “It was probably one of the farm employees checking on the barn animals. He’s probably calling the police on you as we speak.”

      Following Heather into the living room, Tyler said, “Maybe.” But he wasn’t so sure. If it had been an employee who had every right to be there, why hadn’t he confronted Tyler? “But you did receive a threatening phone call, right? Your paranoia is appropriate.”

      She blew out a breath. “You’re right.” She turned on a table lamp before picking up several books and arranging them in the bookcase.

      “You can go on to bed and get some sleep,” he told her. “I’ll take care of this while I stand watch.”

      She made a face. “I won’t get any sleep, so I might as well tackle this now.”

      He didn’t blame her. She’d had a scary night, and there was a stranger in her house. He grabbed some books and handed them to her so she could place them on the shelf.

      “Do you have a wife? Kids?”

      The question punched him in the gut, stirring up an old dream that he knew would never happen for him. “No. I’m not husband material, let alone father material.”

      “Why would you say that?”

      Aware of her curious glances, he kept his attention on the book in his hands. “I don’t lead the kind of life that lends itself to settling down in one place for very long.”

      “Surely you must have a home somewhere.”

      He had an apartment where he stored his few belongings, but he wouldn’t call the place homey. Not anything close to what she meant. “Los Angeles.”

      “Parents? Siblings?”

      He arched an eyebrow. “Do you always grill your guests like this?”

      She matched his arched eyebrow with one of her own. “You aren’t a guest. You came uninvited into my house, my life. I think I can ask you all the questions I want.”

      Liking her spunk, he said, “Touché.” He handed her a book. “In answer to your question, no. I’m alone in the world, and I like it that way.”

      He wouldn’t mention that deep inside, in places he’d rather ignore, the acute emptiness of his life pressed in on him like a boulder that wouldn’t budge.

      Placing the last book onto the shelf, he cleared his throat and wished he could clear away his thoughts as easily. He sat in the wingback chair by the front door and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some rest.”

      He closed his eyes, hopefully putting an end to her curiosity. Not that he was about to sleep, not when the danger plaguing the farm could strike at any moment. On any undercover assignment or stakeout, one learned how to rest while still staying alert.

      For a moment she was silent. Then he thought he heard a little huff of exasperation as she moved to the couch. A moment later the light winked out. He smiled in the dark.

      * * *

      Rest, my eye! Heather shifted on the leather couch. She was certain the man sitting across the darkened room had no intention of sleeping. He’d just wanted to stop her questions, which only made her more curious about him. What made a man like Tyler go into law enforcement? Why the drug enforcement agency? Why was he alone in the world?

      If not for Colin, she’d be alone in the world, too.

      The familiar ache of loneliness camped out in her chest. She missed her husband. Missed having someone she could count on to always have her back, to hold her when the world became too much.

      In the years since his death, she’d had to learn to be strong on her own. For Colin. For herself.

      Had Tyler lost someone, too? Was that the hurt she sensed in him?

      The trill of her cell phone startled her. She flinched and quickly dug it out of the pocket of her sweatpants.

      “Put it on speaker.” Tyler’s voice came to her in the dark.

      Remembering the last call, she really wanted to ignore it, but burying her head in the sand wasn’t smart. She needed to face this head-on. She pressed the answer button and then the speaker icon. “Hello.”

      “I told you once,” said a muffled male voice. “You need to leave the farm. Do it now! It’s not safe for you here.” The caller hung up after the last word.

      Alarm wormed its way through her, making her tremble.

      Tyler moved to sit beside her. “Turn on the light.”

      With shaky hands, she groped for the switch. She turned the table lamp on and was grateful when the light dispelled the gloom.

      Tyler was on his phone. “Hey, I need a call traced now.” He held out his hand for her phone. She set it in his palm. He quickly rattled off her phone number to whomever was on the other side of his phone conversation. “The caller ID comes up blocked. I need to know where the call originated and if the phone can be tracked.” He cupped a hand over the phone’s microphone. “This will take a few minutes.”

      Heather drew her knees to her chest as they waited. The tick of her mother’s grandfather clock sitting on the mantel seemed extraordinarily loud.

      She knew the moment they had an answer by the troubled look on Tyler’s face. Her blood ran cold in her veins. As soon as he hung up, she asked, “What happened? Were they able to trace the call?”

      “They were able to triangulate the approximate location.” He laid her phone on the couch. “The call originated from somewhere here on the farm.”

      Her stomach sank. Betrayal swamped her. She’d stepped into a surreal world where she had no idea what was what. Not only had her brother not trusted her enough to tell her what was going on, but someone on the farm wanted her gone.

      “Once the guys and I have secured our covers, you and Colin should leave.”

      She let out a mirthless laugh. “We have nowhere else to go.”

      “Your in-laws?”

      “I told you—they’re in an assisted-living facility in Florida.”

      “A friend? Seth’s fiancée?”

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