Hitch Read online

  Table of Contents

  Other Books

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Epilogue

  About Anne

  Contact Anne

  Anne’s Series

  E-Book Layout and Design

  Text copyright © 2017 Anne Conley

  All Rights Reserved in accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of author’s rights.

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison along with a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover photography by Jeffrey Todd Photography

  Cover Model Stanley Field

  Cover designer: LoveBooks Cover Art

  Editor: Tiffany Fox; Beyond DEF

  Interior Layout: Deena Rae Schoenfeldt; E-Book Builders for Beyond DEF

  Other Books

  Pierce Securities:

  Craze

  Wire

  Click

  Grab

  Murmur

  Bond

  Seek

  Book B!tches

  Power of Love

  Master of Love

  Hunt for Love (Coming Soon)

  Fostering Love (Coming Soon)

  Will to Love (Coming Soon)

  Love’s Ward (Coming Soon)

  Stories of Serendipity:

  Neighborly Complications

  Chef’s Delight

  Dream On

  Hot Mess

  Falling for Him

  Gambling on Love

  My Mistake

  Wrecked

  Saving Charlie

  Four Winds:

  Falling for Heaven

  Falling for Grace

  Falling for Hope

  Falling for Faith

  Falling for Cyn

  Falling for Eternity (Complete Four Winds Box Set)

  Stand Alones:

  Best Laid Plans of Boys and Men

  The Fixer Upper

  Acknowledgements

  I want to thank all the people. I’m going to list them, if I can, but please don’t get offended if I forget someone.

  Mom

  Hubmeister

  Spawn (both of them)

  Deniese

  L.J.

  Tiffany Fox

  Deena Rae

  LeTeisha

  T-Bird

  The Minxes

  The Bitches

  My beta readers

  The Conley Corner

  My launch team

  My readers and fans

  Without each and every one of these people and groups, I would not be here doing what I love. I thank each of you from the bottom of my heart.

  Dedication

  To the instructors and participants of the SWAT Academy of 2016.

  Chapter One

  “I hate to say this, but I almost miss Andrew’s lecherous ass. He was a nice diversion, all creepy and shit. I can’t really yell at the rest of you like him.” Deena Rae’s voice knocked the Pierce Securities men out of their silent meditations. It was suddenly loud against the ambient noise of the treadmill’s whirring, weights clanking, and the grunts of concentration.

  Dex Hollerman chortled softly, not wanting to be the one to invoke Deena Rae’s ire. She was a pistol but fantastic at her job. Evan’s chuckle from the pull-up bar where he was doing leg lifts came out more like a grunty wheeze. Jordan chimed in from the hand weights, and soon, the entire office was laughing at her declaration from their stations at the piece-meal gym.

  It made Dex feel warm inside, this camaraderie here. He’d been jealous of the guys and girls at Pierce Securities since he first started coming in to yell at them for their laissez-faire attitudes about the law, but the cowboys here had grown on him over the years, and now that he was retired, he longed to be a part of something again.

  All eyes turned to Simon for his reaction on the floor by his bench where he was working on pelvic thrust squats. By unspoken rule it was “his” bench when he was in the gym; he usually sat there to get his free weight workout in before he hit the second-hand leg machine Jordan had brought in, or the treadmill for his cardio. Besides that, the almost pornographic move gave Dex the willies when he used the bench after Simon’s repeated pelvic thrusts on it. Logically, he understood it, emotionally, he was a fourteen-year-old about it.

  They were all in fantastic shape, and what had started with idle curls while he mulled over cases with the guys had turned into a compulsion with Dex. He’d lost countless inches from his waist, gained a shit-ton of muscle mass in his arms and chest, and he was now almost as lean and fit as the rest of the Pierce Securities employees and partners.

  “We can always bring the no-good, unreliable, shit-sack back for your entertainment.” Simon’s wry voice brought a tone of seriousness to the room. Aside from his sexist comments to Deena Rae, Andrew hadn’t shown up to work when it was an all-hands-on-deck assignment after Simon and Quinten’s sister had been kidnapped. That was the kiss of death for the new recruit.

  “Anybody heard from Bonnie and Zack? How are they enjoying Pamona Gulch?” Ryan asked, as he spotted Deena Rae on the bench press.

  Miriam was doing some yoga in the middle of the stained boxing ring in the corner, which really was something that cracked Dex up more than anything. He suspected it had been a joke, since Quinten had retired from his fighting, that they’d squeezed it into this room. Nobody really used it except when Miriam did her yoga. Usually, Quinten just punched the bag in the corner.

  “Bonnie called me last night, they’re having a great time. Zack went skiing again, and she swears she’s going to kill him if the snow doesn’t melt soon. She’s praying for a heat wave on top of that mountain.” Miriam was smiling as she spoke, as if the couple were actually on a romantic retreat and not hiding out from the sadistic sociopath who’d set his sights on Bonnie.

  “Well, he’s always been an adrenaline junkie. Can’t really expect the blindness to stop that,” Quinten murmured as he walked into the room, his serious demeanor not boding well for what came next. “I just ran the daily scan for Jonas. Still no sign of him.” Jonas being the sadistic sociopath in question. “You get anything on him, Hollerman?”

  “Nope.” Dex continued jogging, almost finished. “APD isn’t talking to me, for a multitude
of reasons.” Simon nodded in understanding. Dex had left the force, retired, and had no business there anymore. Besides, the way the Pierce boys had left things when Jonas disappeared made the police force suspicious of the securities firm.

  Simon grunted his response, even though his words were to the younger Pierce brother. “Figures.”

  “Well, hell. I guess we can only assume they have nothing, just like us,” Quinten growled.

  “Yup,” Simon grunted before turning his attention on Dex. “When you’re done, I’ve got a job for you. I want you to see if they’ll help with it, but I’m not holding out much hope.”

  “Ten-four,” Dex responded automatically, ready for anything, almost eager to participate in something. Going from a job where he had multiple assignments to juggle at a time to this one, where the jobs were hand-picked and chosen, was an adjustment.

  “Michelle Perkins thinks her husband is involved in something suspicious, so she’s hired us to check it out. I thought you might see if he had a rap sheet, give us a start. Ryan can help you with it if you need him to.” Turning to the others in the room, one by one, Simon doled out assignments.

  Simon Pierce was a force to be reckoned with. He didn’t use the computer unless he absolutely had to; he was old-school to the bone, as the stacks of papers on his desk attested. Dex had shared a scotch or two in his office while they’d talked cases and stuff, and that’s probably where his reluctant respect came from regarding the firm’s lackadaisical approach to the cases they worked. Their attitude seemed apathetic on the surface, to someone who understood how the law was supposed to work. Dex and Simon had discussed the shades of gray involved, though, and Dex had gained a better appreciation for the work they did.

  Dex mentally planned a vague plan of attack for his new case. He would start by pulling records on the computer and chasing down leads, most likely showing pictures at motels and stuff. The private sector was surprisingly more lucrative than the force. If the client had the money, they would pay it. Information was a high commodity.

  Chapter Two

  Amber bobbed and weaved through stacks of boxes on her way to the teapot, trying not to trip over Salem, her ancient, crotchety black cat. One of these days, she’d get a chance to unpack everything, but until then, she had work. Looking at her watch, she realized she didn’t need to be there for another hour, so she had time to unpack something. Eager to make a good impression on her new boss, she’d gotten up early and was showered and dressed. Amber really wanted to be caffeinated and fresh. She’d been with Austin PD for a week and had already been assigned a task force but hadn’t been given duties beyond ridiculous amounts of paperwork.

  That was okay, though—she got it. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere.

  This time.

  Tea mug in hand, she made her way to the living room and settled herself at the built-ins behind her unplugged TV. She could unpack some of this stuff before she had to go.

  A box or two at a time was all she could handle these days.

  Opening a carton labeled books, she began putting them on shelves, not really caring where they were placed for now, even as Salem perched himself on a shelf and swatted at her hands—claws out, of course. Old textbooks, handbooks, manuals, police procedurals and theory mostly filled an entire box. The next was framed pictures she lovingly handled, even though they were from the dollar store. The town she’d lived in before—Serendipity, Texas—was a tiny town with a population of a little over a thousand people and no places to shop. It wasn’t like she had time to drive to a larger city for picture frames, and it wasn’t the frame that mattered, anyway.

  A picture of her and her parents before they’d been killed when she was twenty-seven.

  A picture of her graduating from the academy after her parents’ deaths had given her a renewed purpose in life.

  A picture of her and her old partner, Lawrence, back when they’d been friends—before she was run out of town. The picture was of the two of them at the town’s Fall Festival. God, Serendipity had a festival for everything. Amber had entered her mother’s Poppy Seed Kolache into the competition that year and won. She had been entering every year since she was sixteen, but it wasn’t until her parents had lost their lives that she’d actually won. She’d taken first place every year until she busted the chief of police and half the town quit speaking to her, including her partner. Considering the memories the picture evoked, she probably wouldn’t leave that one out. With a heavy sigh, she put it back in the box and out of her mind. New life in a new city meant only good things would come along with her.

  As if reading her mind, Salem let out a growly meow at her from his perch on the top shelf of built-ins.

  “I know,” she answered the feline. “You wanna unpack some boxes while I’m gone today?” She was asking half-heartedly, knowing if the cat were willing, she would totally let him. A low rumble that she told herself was a purr was Salem’s only response.

  Slurping down the last of her tea, Amber realized it was time to go. Snapping on her gun belt after double-checking everything, she waltzed out the door. She was ready for a great day today, willing to do anything to regain the passion she’d once had for this job.

  Then she saw her car sitting on four flat tires.

  With a groan, she drew closer. Gaping holes in the rubber told her it wasn’t an accident.

  Cussing loudly, sunny disposition evaporating, she pulled out her cell phone to call for a cab.

  She’d left Serendipity, but someone had followed her here.

  Amber knew exactly who it was and didn’t have the time to deal with it right now. For the moment, this was a huge inconvenience, but she had a job to do.

  Chapter Three

  Dex had spent his morning on the computer looking up background on Terry Perkins, whose wife suspected him of cheating. Even though Simon had tried to get away from that shit, he’d told Dex this one felt different, and being the yes man he was, Dex was obliging. After compiling what he needed from the computer—with Evan’s help—he had spent the afternoon tailing Perkins around while he picked up fares. So far, absolutely nothing was setting off any alarms.

  Dex had decided to hit up the cop bar, Batons, on Congress Avenue to see if he could get any help. He thought there were still a few ex-coworkers who might speak to him. He was being really hopeful because if tonight didn’t work, he’d have to go by the station tomorrow to see if his old lieutenant would help him out. And he wasn’t holding his breath for that one.

  Batons was exactly as it had been when Dex had first joined the force. Everything in it was old, worn, and dirty. Still smelling of cigarettes from the decades prior, when smoking was allowed in public establishments, it gave off a serious vibe of neglect. But it had been the place where off-duty officers had gone, probably since it had been a speakeasy in the twenties, before law enforcement had taken it over, so who was he to go against the grain?

  He swept his gaze around the large area as soon as he entered, immediately registering everyone. There were tables full of vice, homicide, patrol, and plain-clothes detectives, strategically stationed in tables set at angles so no one had their backs to the door. Even though it was a place for cops to mingle, they all stuck to their own department. It was almost humorous, coming here to let loose after a long shift yet still sticking with the people you knew, unwilling to test the unknown.

  Dex could remember his own days on patrol, when he was still trying to hit detective status in the vice unit. He knew you stuck with who was nice to you at the time which, if he were playing by the same rules, meant he shouldn’t be here tonight.

  A pain behind his eyes had him rubbing the bridge of his nose briefly before he realized he was only showing weakness and stopped. That’s when he saw her.

  As if in a tunnel, his vision zeroed in on two women at the bar, one a Hispanic girl he knew from patrol but couldn’t remember her name … Lena? Nena? Something like that. She was nice, but that wasn’t what claimed his attenti
on. It was the mahogany brunette next to her, all tall curves and wavy hair flowing loosely. She sat at the bar, her spine ramrod straight, sipping on a honey-colored drink like she was desperate for the liquid to loosen her stiff muscles, which Dex whole-heartedly decided he was game to try to do for her. Shaking his head briefly, he started to turn away, but she swiveled in her chair and saw him, dark eyes looking at him dangerously before widening slightly.

  She was the only person in this bar not familiar to him, aside from the table full of obvious new recruits, who had crew cuts and more muscles than sense. They were drunk and toasting each other stupidly, a stark contrast to the woman at the bar. She sipped through her straw, her mouth puckering deliciously as she studied him before whispering something to her friend.

  When she turned back toward Dex, he saw it—the brief flash of desire as she gave him a onceover before shuttering her gaze and puckering her mouth around her straw again. Even though her look now said “back off,” there was no way he’d mistaken the heat he’d just seen.

  Dex had always prided himself on reading people. Even though she showed no emotion right now, her stare blank—giving off “go away” vibes—he’d seen it. For a second, Dex thought her friend must have said something about him that turned her off, but he discredited it almost as soon as he thought it. He didn’t know Nena/Lena that well, and he couldn’t imagine what she might say.

  He shook his head, reminding himself he wasn’t here to pick up women. Never had been. Who in their right mind wanted to date a fucking cop? But still, as he looked around the room, he knew he’d give it a shot before he left tonight.

  Something in his gut told him he needed to. And Dex Hollerman always trusted his gut.

  Turning to his left, he started making his rounds—clapping backs and bro-hugging, making self-deprecating old-man jokes about retirement, making up shit about golf and fishing—and subtly pumping people for information.

  And getting shot down at every turn. Dex figured he was on a roll. Might as well approach her, too.