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In His Sights
Danica Winters
They both have secrets that could get them killed… As second-in-command of her family’s business empire, Mindy Kohl’s independent to a fault. But after she eludes death by inches and becomes guardian to her niece, Mindy needs help and Jarrod Martin steps up to take on the role. But together can they outsmart those who want Mindy dead when they are both keeping secrets from each other?
They both have secrets that could get them killed…
As second-in-command of her family’s business empire, Mindy Kohl is independent to a fault. But after she eludes death by inches and becomes guardian to her niece, a five-year-old with Down syndrome, Mindy needs someone to have her back. Jarrod Martin, who is investigating the crime syndicate targeting the Kohl family, steps up to take on the role. Together, can they outsmart those who want Mindy dead when they are both keeping secrets from each other?
DANICA WINTERS is a multiple-award-winning, bestselling author who writes books that grip readers with their ability to drive emotion through suspense and occasionally a touch of magic. When she’s not working, she can be found in the wilds of Montana, testing her patience while she tries to hone her skills at various crafts—quilting, pottery and painting are not her areas of expertise. She believes the cup is neither half-full nor half-empty, but it better be filled with wine. Visit her website at danicawinters.net (http://danicawinters.net)
Also by Danica Winters (#u063db92f-43d5-5d89-a60a-888c5ab3905f)
Hidden Truth
Ms Calculation
Mr Serious
Mr Taken
Smoke and Ashes
Dust Up with the Detective
Wild Montana
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
In His Sights
Danica Winters
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-0-008-90485-2
IN HIS SIGHTS
© 2019 Danica Winters
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Note to Readers (#u063db92f-43d5-5d89-a60a-888c5ab3905f)
This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:
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To Mac.
Thanks for always believing in me
Acknowledgements
This series wouldn’t have been possible without a great team of people, including Melanie Calahan and Clare Wood, my #1k1hr friends, Jill Marsal and the editors at Mills & Boon—thank you for all your hard work.
Also, thank you to my readers. You keep me writing.
Contents
Cover (#ubd8f2f5e-7068-5b4a-aa9c-23c8103cc601)
Back Cover Text (#u9728fe46-9fe2-56d1-b0c8-136d8b0c873e)
About the Author (#uae3adfe0-03e2-5039-a543-20da9deb07b2)
Booklist (#uef00a805-caa4-594b-9357-ccb1f5243e61)
Title Page (#ud6e4a49f-3e60-55c9-8e3e-20f69f6d146b)
Copyright (#u849c7fa3-00b1-5c69-a2ae-d8e94070ac6f)
Note to Readers
Dedication (#u398c5a1c-5d84-5dfd-94ac-0023e4329da9)
Acknowledgements (#u3dd25a7a-7951-5850-b3a3-4bb883145a89)
Chapter One (#uc89f233d-0789-545c-9a6a-745f7a6f069f)
Chapter Two (#u7e10cf08-2d9c-517f-884f-c6a67c872067)
Chapter Three (#u5d2abe81-acab-59b6-ac12-106bf5f18d0a)
Chapter Four (#u79a585ba-a84a-5bef-9817-eb8496935e9b)
Chapter Five (#u53a5ab62-6f58-5bd3-95ea-ede76b78e08f)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u063db92f-43d5-5d89-a60a-888c5ab3905f)
It was impossible to change a person. However, it was possible to change a person’s opinion—given the right motivation. And, as it so happened, death was one hell of a motivator.
Jarrod Martin looked at the man strapped to the chair in the center of the interrogation room, deep in the guts of Camp Four within the confines of Camp Delta, also known as Guantanamo Bay or Gitmo. The air was hot, reminding him of his days in Iraq, but heavy with the dank humidity and the scent of sweat and fear.
As soon as he was done here he could make his way back out into the world…a world that didn’t outwardly appear to be at war. And yet, no matter where he was in the world or under what regime, there was always some unspoken or unacknowledged war—even at his new home in Montana, and it was one of the many reasons he was in no rush to head there.
For the good of the people and for himself, he was here—the man sent in to rectify security threats and take down terrorists.
“Cut him loose,” he ordered, looking to the two agents he had been given as guards.
“Sir, this man is a known criminal,” the agent nearest him said. He looked to be about twenty-five, and Jarrod swore he could even see a smear of milk on his upper lip.
He held back a chuckle. “What’s your name?”
“Agent Arthur,” the man said.
“Well, Agent Arthur, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” The last thing he wanted, or needed, was someone questioning how he did his job. He’d been involved in interrogations long enough to know what did and didn’t work—and he didn’t need some know-it-all rookie his boss had stuck him with rocking the boat.
“My apologies, sir,” the man said, walking over to their suspect and unlocking his restraints. “I just thought—”
Jarrod shot him a look that said shut up in every language. “His feet, as well,” Jarrod said, motioning in the direction of the shackles.
The rookie zipped his lip and set to work. Jarrod took one more look over his suspect’s file, for effect rather than the need to know. He’d seen more than his fair share of these kinds of guys—the corporate jerks who thought they were above the law…right until they found themselves sitting in his interrogation chair.
Daniel Jeffery, the young CEO of Heinrich and Kohl gun manufacturing, sat back in his chair and looked around the room. He looked like a wolf that had just been set loose from a snare. Jarrod held back a mirth-filled smile. Given enough time, he would turn this wolf into a pup who would beg to do his bidding.
“How are you doing, Daniel? Do you need anything? Water? Sandwich?” he asked, trying to ingratiate himself with the man.
Daniel brushed off the legs of his dress pants, attempting to rid himself of the detritus of captivity. “I could use a latte and a fresh set of clothes,” he said. “I don’t know why you think it was okay to bring me here. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Sure, he could argue all he wanted. But if he was innocent, the CIA would have never called STEALTH, Jarrod’s independent military contractor team and the CIA’s harbinger of dirty work. He and his team were like the Ghostbusters of bad guys—the government always called them in when they’d run out of legal ways to handle those who needed to be dealt with.
In fact, it had been a running joke among his brothers and sisters to the point that he had programmed his phone to notify him with the Ghostbusters theme song whenever they messaged him. And back at home, after a few rounds of whiskey, their nights always devolved into poor renditions of eighties hit songs.
The thought of his family made his core clench. He needed to be with them, especially after the death of their sister Trish, but he couldn’t bring himself to face them…not yet. For now it was so much easier to stare down corrupt businessmen, killers and thieves. They were people he could understand.
Jarrod motioned to the other guard. “Would you please run and get Mr. Jeffery a coffee?” He turned to his detainee. “You take cream and sugar?”
The man shook his head.
“Great,” Jarrod said, glancing back to the guard. “And grab him a pair of Gitmo’s finest. I’m feeling like a tan jumpsuit would be a good fit. It’s not quite as nice as the suit Mr. Jeffery has there, but it will get the job done.”
The agent gave him a tight nod and left the room as the detainee started to argue. Agent Arthur stepped closer to the man but stopped when Jarrod shot him a look.
Jarrod could remember the days when he had been a young, dumb newbie, just waiting to jump in and take control in every situation. Thankfully, he’d had his father to show him the ropes in STEALTH—and the man, though he had his fair share of faults, had been as patient as a saint. In moments like these, he reminded himself of his father’s words: The only thing you can do well without thinking is falling in love. The rest of the time you got to shut your mouth and pay attention.
“Now, Mr. Jeffery, do you know why you are here today?” he asked, taking a chair from the corner and moving it directly in front of his detainee.
“All I know is that I was visiting our company’s office in Washington, DC, when you and a bunch of fed clowns thought it was okay to come in and take me down like I was some kind of goddamned mob boss.” Daniel pointed at Jarrod, his actions aggressive and angry. He would need to calm the man down.
“I’m sorry you feel like it was an invasion of your professional life,” Jarrod said, trying to empathize. “I know you’re the boss and under a lot of public scrutiny.” He held Daniel’s eye. “It’s my goal to get you back home as quickly as I can. I’m your advocate. And perhaps we can even make this all work in your favor.”
The man sat in silence for a moment. “I appreciate that.” He stared daggers at Agent Arthur, who stood in the corner.
“Absolutely,” Jarrod said, even though he was struggling to keep his personal judgment of the man at bay. “So, according to what I’ve been told about your case, they believe you may have been selling state secrets to foreign governments—North Korea, to be exact. Is there any merit to their claims?” he said, careful to distance himself from the authorities.
