Free Don't Say a Word by Beverly Barton

has an apartment she’ll let me live in until I get my feet on the ground and decide what I want to do. No charge, either.”
    â€œWho’s that?”
    â€œCathy Bateman. Her last name’s Axelrod, now that she’s remarried. You remember her, don’t you? I got to know her when we went through K-9 training in Nashville together. We got to be really close friends. She and Charlie Sinclair both handled the K-9 units in this area, so I’ve already got some good friends living around here.”
    â€œWell, you’re welcome to stay here. You know that, don’t you? We’d love it.” J.D. hesitated and lowered his voice. “I may not be living here much longer. In fact, you could end up getting this place, if you’re interested.”
    Julia smiled knowingly. “Why not? As if I didn’t know.”
    J.D. grinned, too. “She’s the one, Jules. I never thought I’d say that again, not after my divorce, but she’s an angel.”
    â€œYou’re good together. I could see that the night she had us all over to her place for dinner.”
    â€œSo hurry up and pop the question, J.D.,” yelled Zoe from the kitchen. “You big scaredy-cat!”
    Julia laughed and J.D. shook his head. Zoe was something else.
    â€œPizza’s ready,” Zoe announced from the doorway. “And I made homemade coconut cream pie for dessert. Audrey makes the best coconut cream pie in the whole world, and I got her to give me the recipe. She gave me the pizza one, too, Julia. She’s teaching me to cook. Did I tell you?”
    J.D. followed his sister and daughter into the kitchen. His own stomach was growling, and Zoe’s cooking did smell good. Now he had all the women he loved in one town, where he could take care of them and make sure they were all safe and sound. Life was good—it sure was, and getting better all the time.

Chapter 4
    Pulling up at the entrance of his driveway, Will Brannock swiped the card on his security box and waited impatiently while the barred gate slowly opened. Despite the fact that he was dead tired, he didn’t expect to get much sleep. Not that insomnia was anything out of the norm. He drove the Hummer up the long, black-topped driveway to the house, wondering what Julia Cass would think of his place. The big house on Chickamauga Lake was his one refuge. He loved living on the water—any kind of water, river or ocean or lake, just so he could take a boat out and get away. Water skiing and fishing and swimming, all of it. He had the money to possess this kind of private sanctuary where he could be alone, relax, rest, and rejuvenate, without constantly having to watch his back. Once he’d checked for intruders, that is.
    He’d worked with Julia Cass all day long, and if he ever decided to bring her around, which he probably wouldn’t, he expected she would wonder how he afforded this kind of place. But so what? What did he care what she thought? Why was he even thinking about her being there? Or thinking about her at all? Now that they were temporary partners, their relationship was strictly professional. Julia Cass would never pass through his gate. None of his friends or colleagues had ever been here, not even J.D. And that was for their own good. Nobody else was going to die because of him and the vicious people who wanted to see him dead.
    As soon as he reached his large three-car garage, he searched for pry marks and glanced up at the windows for movement, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Turning his head and waiting as the garage door rolled up, he gazed out over the lake, looking for any suspicious boats, any flash of light that might indicate binoculars or a high-powered scope. After all these years, he was still a hunted man. It paid to be cautious and always on the alert.
    Inside the garage, he pressed the button and waited for the door to come down and lock into place before getting out of the