Murder Under The Mistletoe. Terri Reed

couldn’t forget his primary objective was to bring down the drug ring and discover the identity of the mastermind. Not yearn for the dark-haired beauty.

      Stalling, he found the restroom and freshened up as much as he could. But he wished he had his to-go bag handy. The stubble on his face itched. He stepped into the living room and made a decision.

      Making sure his sidearm was concealed beneath his shirt, he entered the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. Colin stood on a chair pushed up to the counter. Heather was pouring milk into the measuring cup Colin held over a large bowl. The domestic scene looked like something one would see in a greeting card. Tenderness flooded his system.

      “That’s enough, Mommy,” Colin exclaimed, then dumped the milk into the bowl.

      Heather set the milk carton aside and handed him an egg. “You remember how to crack this?”

      “Yes, I can do it myself,” Colin insisted, snatching the egg from her hand.

      Heather met Tyler’s gaze over Colin’s head. “Honey, I’ll be right back. Try not to let any of the shells get into the mix.”

      Heather moved to stand in front of Tyler. She’d tied her dark hair back with a ribbon. White flour dusted her cheek. She looked so pretty and so fragile. The oversize sweats she wore hid her feminine form, but her beauty went deeper than her skin. It was in the gentle way she related to her son, in the way she’d taken care of Tyler’s injury. An injury she’d inflicted out of fear and the need to protect her child.

      Beneath that soft female exterior was a strong and brave woman.

      “Is something the matter?”

      “No, everything’s good.” He was quick to assure her. “I was thinking I’d have the guys pick up my truck and head on over here. If you’re okay with that plan.”

      The relieved smile she flashed hit him square in the chest.

      “Of course it’s okay. That would be great. We’ll make plenty of pancakes.”

      * * *

      Fifteen minutes later, Heather’s dining room was filled with three large men and one small boy who stared at the newcomers with awe as they ate pancake after pancake. She’d made a triple batch of pancake batter, fried up three pounds of bacon and made a gallon of orange juice. Though it had been years, she remembered what it was like to cook for hungry men. Ken had brought home his army buddies often to their small duplex on the Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Tacoma, Washington.

      Heather didn’t blame Colin for being mesmerized. She’d forgotten what it was like to be around men like these. Hard men. Men who not only faced danger but sought it out.

      She’d thought Tyler intimidating on his own. Flanked by his fellow team members, she pitied anyone who would take on this trio.

      US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent Blake Fallon’s hard features could cut diamonds out of stone. Though she doubted the stoic man realized how his penetrating dark gaze softened when he answered Colin’s many questions in the subtle accent of the Southern states.

      The other man, Canadian Customs Border Patrol agent Nathanial Longhorn, was charm personified. His comments made Colin giggle in a way usually reserved for silly cartoons. But there was a lethal grace to the man that made Heather suspect he was the type of guy one wouldn’t want to cross.

      “That was delicious.” Tyler tilted his chair back on two legs and smiled at her across the table.

      His praise brought heat to her cheeks.

      “Thank you, Mrs. Randall,” Blake said. His deep voice rumbled from his chest. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a decent meal.”

      “Hey, now,” Nathanial said. “My cooking’s not that bad.”

      Blake raised an eyebrow. “Says you.”

      “You make a mean hot dog,” Tyler quipped.

      Heather couldn’t help but laugh at the ribbing between the men.

      “I will admit these pancakes were out of this world,” Nathanial stated, then eyed Heather. “There was a touch of vanilla and something else...”

      “It’s a family recipe,” she said. “Highly guarded.”

      He grinned. “Ha! A challenge. I’ll ferret out the secret.”

      The front legs of Tyler’s chair dropped to the floor. Tension radiated off him in waves as he shot to his feet. “Someone’s here.”

      A knock at the back door punctuated his words.

       Wow, how’d he know that?

      “Rob!” Colin cried, jumping out of his chair and racing to the door.

      “Colin, wait!” Heather hurried after him.

      Nathanial snagged Colin by the waist and lifted him off his feet. “Slow up there, speedy.”

      Heather hadn’t even seen the man rise out of his seat, let alone beat her son to the door. He carried him to the living room. Within seconds, Nathanial had her son laughing hysterically as the man acted out a story.

      Tyler moved to her side while Blake disappeared from the room like a puff of smoke.

      Heather frowned at Tyler. “It’s Rob Zane. He’s a longtime employee.”

      No doubt he suspected Rob was in on the drug ring, but, then again, she figured Tyler would suspect everyone on the farm.

      She hated the thought that one of the farm’s employees could be involved in smuggling drugs and threatening her, let alone her brother’s death.

      Especially the man her parents had trusted completely. She wasn’t about to drag Rob into the danger surrounding the farm.

      Unless he was already mixed up in it.

      The thought shook her to the core.

      No. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, believe such a thing. Despite how uncomfortable he made her feel at times, Rob was a God-fearing man. Or at least he had been once. He’d been a friend of her parents for as long as she could remember. Despite the unsubstantiated suspicions that he’d been responsible for the fire that had claimed his family, he deserved the benefit of the doubt from Heather. Didn’t he?

      “Heather?” Rob called, sounding worried.

      “I have to answer the door,” she said to Tyler. “My parents trust him.”

      Though his expression wasn’t pleased, Tyler gave her a sharp nod. His hand rested on his holstered weapon.

      Heather opened the door. “Rob, we weren’t expecting you this early.”

      He tried to peer around her. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

      Was his concern real or a ploy to garner her trust? She stared at the man who’d become a surrogate grandfather to Colin after her parents were killed and searched for the answer to her question. In all honesty, she didn’t know that much about Rob, but she had always trusted him with her son whenever they’d come home for a visit.

      Now she wasn’t sure who she could trust.

FOUR

      “I thought I saw someone through the window, and I wanted to make sure you were all right,” Rob said.

      Tyler tensed, and his “something’s hinky” senses went wild. Rob had been watching the house? Why?

      Needing to establish his cover sooner rather than later, Tyler stepped out from behind the door. The man standing on the other side of the door was average in height and build with blond hair. He wore corduroy pants and a thick jean jacket over a black turtleneck and he leaned heavily on a cane.

      Horrible