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LET ME IN
DONNA KAUFFMAN
For Angela…
Thank you for the support, the laughter,
and the sisterhood
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Chapter 1
He was the last person she ever wanted to see again. She’d done her time, she was out now. For good. Free. Free to be whatever she wanted to be, and what she wanted to be was alone.
It had been three years since they’d parted ways, and not under the best of circumstances. Derek Cole had been her boss then; the man who decided where she went, what she did, and how long she stayed. To say he hadn’t been happy with her decision to resign would be putting it mildly. Too damn bad, had been her feeling at the time. The intervening years had done nothing to change that sentiment.
Tate Winslow didn’t just like her newfound solitude, she reveled in it. Home used to be wherever she laid her hat. And her gun. Now home was the stunning vistas and peaceful beauty of the Hebron Valley, framed by the gently rolling Blue Ridge Mountains in Madison County, Virginia. She’d been Agent Winslow in her previous life. She went by Tara Wingate now. Not a stunning change, she’d tried to keep some sense of herself, but change enough to start fresh, leaving no tracks. Hers was a privately designed protection program created by someone who knew firsthand how to make a person disappear. Her former boss hadn’t been pleased with her choice, but he’d respected it and her request for help in creating a new life for herself. She’d made certain no one here knew of her past…and he’d made certain no one from her past knew she was here. There had been no contact since and there would be no contact. Ever.
She’d come here battered in both body and soul, desperately in need of healing. She’d expected it to take time, and was willing to give herself whatever it was she needed to feel whole again. She’d given enough to others. It was time to take a little back for herself. Not that she’d really had a choice. There hadn’t been anything left to give.
Surprisingly, adjusting to the quiet life in the valley had come easily, and the healing had followed more swiftly than she’d imagined possible. She’d found her rhythm quite naturally here, the slower pace of life calling to her in more ways than she’d known were possible. She’d only wanted a break, an escape, a place to lick her wounds and heal in private. She hadn’t known the true depths of solace there was to be found in such a new way of life, but was profoundly grateful for every scrap of it. She hadn’t realized how much faith and trust—two commodities she’d never had in large supply—that she’d put into it always being there for her. Until the instant it all changed.
The adrenaline pumping into her system right now was the exact opposite of everything she’d come here for, everything she’d become. It made her physically nauseous. Worse was the ease with which her training kicked right back in. That she’d ever need for it to, ever again, made her emotionally sick. And mad as hell.
It was a brutal revelation, discovering her peaceful existence could be so easily and swiftly shattered by something as simple as a rattling doorknob. Three years in the valley had healed wounds, soothed scars, and introduced her to a world where joy was found in morning blooms and evening bird calls. But apparently no amount of soul-soothing would ever erase the training ingrained into her from her previous life. A life where distinguishing between, and identifying, even the tiniest of sounds could mean the difference between life and death.
So when the rattling sound came, she knew it wasn’t the wind whistling over the shaker roof and vibrating the frame of her log cabin home. She had made casual friends of a few neighbors since moving here, but not a single one of them would have come calling after midnight without advance notice…even in an emergency. She had no family, no relatives. No one who would simply enter, or try to, without knocking first.
And yet, someone was at her door. A door no one from her previous life should know existed. Or certainly not where it existed. Derek hadn’t been happy she’d left the team, but he’d promised he’d allow her the permanent exile she sought. And though he’d been a tough boss, he’d never expected anything from his team that he hadn’t taken, or couldn’t take, himself. He never shied away from making a blunt observation, and he never made promises because he knew reality didn’t always come with the luxury of keeping them. So, when he gave his word, he backed it up. Without fail.
The return of that sickening, heart-pounding sensation, where every second was crystallized into a completely separate, fully realized moment in time, was something she’d never wanted to experience, ever again. But, in less than five seconds, she had palmed her gun from under the corner of her mattress—a security blanket, she’d told herself, smart for a woman living alone in the middle of nowhere—and had her back flat against the wall next to her bedroom door. She hated this, hated it with a deepening rage that was almost as bone-chilling as the sound that had launched her into it.
Drawing on every shred of training she’d had, fury mounted as she made her way out of her only bedroom, and crept down the short hall to the front room. She paused to peek around the corner, making a slow visual sweep of her small cabin, then moved in along the front wall. Staying low to the ground, she peered cautiously out of the panoramic front window, silently cursing the lack of night vision goggles, hating that she’d even thought of it. She’d bought the cabin mainly for that window, and the view of the valley and the endless rippling vistas of blue mountains that it showcased. The idea that someone was out there, using the very same window to stare in at her, made her even more livid.
She was crawling toward the door, already leaning toward shooting first and asking questions later, when a hushed, gravelly voice whispered, “Tate. It’s me.”
She went stock still, her heart lodged instantly in her throat. Hearing her old name . . knowing only one person could connect the woman living in this cabin to that name, only increased her fury. She knew that voice. Knew it belonged to a man who was quite capable of getting himself into any structure he wanted to. So why was he rattling her door knob? Unless…
She crept closer, and positioned herself on the hinged side of the door. Not smart, but Derek would expect her to do as she’d been trained. Especially considering he’d been the one to do the training. It was the smallest of edges, but with him she’d need every one she had. She didn’t respond.
“Tate. Let me in.” There was a long pause, then a choked, “Please.”
Please?