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  A bullet pinged not two feet away from Ree.

  Quint pulled her out of harm’s way just in time to shield her from the next one. They fell into a heap on the hard Texas soil.

  “We need to run,” she said. “Can you?”

  Quint performed a quick mental inventory of his body.

  “I’ll figure it out,” he said. His headache alone was enough to slow him down, forget his injuries.

  “Let’s go,” she said, linking their fingers. They ducked as low as possible to make them harder targets to hit, and took off in the opposite direction of the highway, into the blackness.

  The farther away they ran from the Chevy, the thicker the underbrush became. The toe of Quint’s boot got caught on it, causing him to face-plant, and Ree came down with him. Both held on to their weapons. The accidental move was where their luck would run out as shots whizzed past their heads...

  MISSION HONEYMOON

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Barb Han

  USA TODAY bestselling author Barb Han lives in north Texas with her very own hero-worthy husband, three beautiful children, a spunky golden retriever/standard poodle mix and too many books in her to-read pile. In her downtime, she plays video games and spends much of her time on or around a basketball court. She loves interacting with readers and is grateful for their support. You can reach her at barbhan.com.

  Books by Barb Han

  Harlequin Intrigue

  A Ree and Quint Novel

  Undercover Couple

  Newlywed Assignment

  Eyewitness Man and Wife

  Mission Honeymoon

  An O’Connor Family Mystery

  Texas Kidnapping

  Texas Target

  Texas Law

  Texas Baby Conspiracy

  Texas Stalker

  Texas Abduction

  Rushing Creek Crime Spree

  Cornered at Christmas

  Ransom at Christmas

  Ambushed at Christmas

  What She Did

  What She Knew

  What She Saw

  Decoding a Criminal

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Emmaline Ree Sheppard a.k.a. Ree—This ATF agent will do anything to protect a partner who refuses to save himself.

  Quinton Casey a.k.a. Quint—This hotshot ATF agent blames himself for his pregnant partner’s death and will stop at nothing to put the person responsible behind bars, placing himself in danger in the process.

  Vadik Gajov—Faking his murder might be key to the investigation if he’ll cooperate.

  Giselle Langley—Is this mistress who she appears to be?

  Lizanne Vega—This “toys and lingerie” shop owner might lead the investigation straight to Dumitru’s door.

  Rolph Lindberg a.k.a. Lindy—This new player seems even closer to Dumitru.

  Dumitru—The ultimate target and person responsible for Tessa’s murder is elusive—too much so?

  All my love to Brandon, Jacob and Tori,

  the three great loves of my life.

  To Babe, my hero, for being my best friend,

  greatest love and my place to call home.

  I love you all with everything that I am.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Lakeside Mystery by Carol Ericson

  Chapter One

  Just breathe.

  All ATF Agent Ree Sheppard felt on either side of her was a wooden box. Trapped, she wiggled her foot and felt the bottom. If she stretched out her body, the crown of her head reached the top. Her shoulders were in a permanent shrug, and she could scarcely move her arms in any direction. The space was fitted-glove tight.

  The sun was high in the sky on a hot mid-September afternoon. A sliver of daylight came in through a crack where the wood didn’t perfectly match up. Ree lifted her head toward it, trying to grab fresh air. Panic set in as reality gripped her. She’d been hit in the back of the head after breathing in a chemical that rendered her unconscious. Or maybe it was the other way around. She couldn’t be certain. She did, however, have a monster of a headache. Based on the angle of the sun, she hadn’t been out for long.

  And then it dawned on her what she was inside. This was a coffin. Her lungs clawed for air as her claustrophobia took the wheel. Her chest squeezed, and she had to remind herself to slow down and breathe again. This was her worst nightmare realized.

  “Sit tight, sweetheart. We’ll be back for you if you make it through the day and your man cooperates,” the unfamiliar male voice stated with a haughty laugh. Ree had been abducted in Dallas, where she’d returned to the apartment she was sharing with her undercover partner during their last case.

  “You didn’t say anything about putting her in a coffin, Lindy,” a female voice stated. This one was familiar. Giselle Langley was the mistress of someone mid-level in the crime organization Ree and her partner were investigating. Giselle had helped Ree and Quint climb another rung higher toward the leader before betraying Ree earlier today by luring her outside her apartment. Unbeknownst to Giselle, her imprisoned boyfriend had arranged for her to be offered Witness Protection once this case was over. Ree and Quint were on a mission to take down one of the largest and most profitable Romanian weapon trafficking rings in Texas. Giselle’s link to Vadik Gajov was meant to get them one step closer to their ultimate target, Dumitru, the man in charge and responsible for the death of an agent. Tessa Kind had not only been Quint’s best friend, but she’d been pregnant. The fact that she’d been able to convince Quint not to tell their boss haunted him. Locking Dumitru behind bars for the rest of his life had become Quint’s sole mission. Ree’s partner and, most recently, fiancé couldn’t let it go. Even though Quint didn’t yet have a ring, he’d asked Ree to marry him at the conclusion of their last case and she’d said yes. Still, with Dumitru walking around free, they couldn’t begin their future. Not until justice was served.

  “She’ll be fine until we come back for her,” the male voice said.

  “No,” Giselle argued, and there was something in her voice that sent an icy shiver racing down Ree’s spine. “Don’t do it, Lindy. She won’t be able to breathe.”

  Rolph Lindberg, a.k.a. Lindy, was on the same level as Vadik according to their desk agent, Agent James Grappell. Vadik and Lindy both were advisors to Dumitru. Vadik was presently in jail due to a recent bust that Quint had orchestrated while Ree had been forced to play the part of party girl at Vadik’s penthouse.

  At the conclusion of their last case, Lindy had posed as Dumitru via a text message calling for Vadik’s murder. Part of their cover story was that Quint had been released from prison recently and, therefore, would have connections inside. From what Ree gathered so far, she’d been abducted to force Quint into arrangi
ng for Vadik to be killed while locked up.

  Lindy wasn’t exactly known for mercy. Ree squirmed, testing the strength of the homemade coffin. She strained to check out what was happening aboveground in time for the first clump of dirt to hit the wood. She blinked as crumbs hit her in the eye.

  “Stop.” Giselle’s voice was more agitated now. Nervous?

  “Or what?” Lindy said. Another clump splattered on the outside of the encasing like a pumpkin that had been thrown off a bridge.

  “I’ll tell Axel,” she threatened. There was far less confidence in her tone now. It had raised an octave too, which wasn’t exactly encouraging from where Ree stood. “They’re his friends, and he wouldn’t want them treated this way.”

  Lindy stopped. Was he considering the plea?

  “I can’t leave this in the open,” he finally stated. “If someone finds her, it could be worse all the way around, including for her.”

  “Good point,” she said, then hesitated.

  How about someone pull me out of this grave and open the box? How about that? Ree wanted to shout.

  “She’s been missing for hours already,” Giselle continued after a few beats. “He’ll come looking for her. What if he finds her like this?”

  “Are you kidding around or just stupid?” Lindy asked.

  “What are you doing with your phone?” Giselle didn’t come off as offended despite the dig.

  “What do you think? Taking a picture,” he stated like she should have read his mind. Or was it that obvious to someone in their line of work?

  “Here’s the deal,” Giselle started. “I’m the one who asked to meet up with her for lunch. My name is on this, and on Axel’s by extension. If anything happens to her, who do you think her man will come after?” She paused as though for dramatic affect. “That’s right. Me. And when Quint puts me in a box over this, I won’t ever be coming out again. And then you’ll have Axel Ivan to deal with. Is that what you want?” Giselle seemed to gain more confidence the longer she spoke. “I’m not taking a hit for this one, Lindy. Now, let her out. She’ll wake up any minute now. You can leave her out here in the boondocks. Who knows how long it’ll take her to walk back to Dallas? By then, he will have already done what you want.”

  “If I open this box and she doesn’t wake up right away, she might be dealing with something worse than me,” Lindy said. “There’s all kinds of wildlife out here. Is that what you want? You want to come back here and find her blood and guts everywhere?”

  “Well, no. Not when you put it like that.” She cowered.

  Ree wanted to shout. She wanted to tell Giselle to go to hell for baiting her into a meetup that ended with Ree in a coffin. Instinct told her to be quiet and be still no matter how much her lungs clawed for air and she wanted to scream.

  There were a couple of important points Ree picked up on in their conversation. For one, they planned on coming back, at least. Could she spend an entire day and night out here in the middle of nowhere? She listened for sounds of vehicles or a roadway and heard nothing. Another note was that even if she was able to free herself from this box, what would she do next? They’d said they were about to leave her in an area where wildlife roamed freely. A dark thought struck her. Texas was known for snakes, spiders and all manner of insects. If they left her inside this thing, who knew what could join her?

  Ree shivered at the thought. She hated snakes. Spiders weren’t much better in her book. But the stabbing pain in her chest would do her in before either of those had a chance at her. After growing up with four rowdy brothers on a small ranch, Ree didn’t fear a whole lot of people. Being buried alive ranked right up there beside heights and small spaces, though.

  More of those calming breaths, she reminded herself as she waited to hear her fate.

  “See. I’m doing her a favor by covering the box,” he continued.

  “How will she breathe?” Giselle asked, her voice more of a whine than anything else now.

  Another splat sounded. Dirt seeped through the crevice. Ree literally thought she might hyperventilate.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Giselle said, sounding a little panicked.

  Seriously? She was the one who was freaking out? Ree had a few choice words for her so-called friend when she got out of this predicament. This seemed like a good time to remind herself she was one hundred percent successful at getting herself out of difficult situations. Granted, this was the first time she’d been buried alive. Those last two words caused a tremor to rock her body. Biting her tongue was near impossible.

  The sound of footsteps walking away from the area sent a cold chill racing up her spine. An engine came to life. It didn’t sound like a truck. Could be a sedan or SUV. Did Giselle think she was going to get away with this? Did Lindy?

  Clearly, they planned to leave her there—wherever there was—alone. A sharp pain in the back of her head reminded her of the blow she’d taken as she was being herded into a minivan. A cloth had been placed over her mouth before the rank smell filled her senses and total darkness came. The memory caused white-hot anger to roil in her veins.

  Ree silently counted to sixty, marking each passing second by straightening a finger from her fists.

  It was hot. There was no air movement. The box was stifling.

  Beads of sweat rolled down Ree’s forehead and dampened the back of her neck. There were no sounds of life. Not yet anyway. Ree needed to get out of this box and now.

  Could she shimmy down a little more and kick out the bottom? There was very little wiggle room. Maybe she could blow out her breath and bring her shoulders in. She inched down. Would it be possible to take in a deep breath and cause her shoulders to swell enough to break out? The move would be faster. She tried. Failed. More of the panic tried to take hold.

  She couldn’t allow her nerves to take over. An anxiety attack would only make the situation worse. Logically, she knew it. Emotions were a whole different ball game.

  Another attempt at trying to get her feet to the bottom made a little more progress. She grazed the wood with the ball of her foot. More wiggling and she got her heel there too. Problem. There was no room to lift her leg high enough to get off a good stomp. At this rate, she would never get out of this awful thing. Ree expanded her lungs, pushing her shoulders hard against the crate. Shock of all shocks, there was enough give to rain dirt down on her through the crevices. She turned her head and spit out the mud crumbs.

  Ree turned a little on her side and threw her right elbow up. The lid loosened. A few more elbows and she was covered in soil. She sat bolt upright and brushed it off before pushing to standing. She immediately checked her pockets for her cell. Nothing.

  There wasn’t much in this area except for trees to one side and a lake to the other. No road. She would have to follow the tire tracks where they’d flattened the weeds. Wasting no time, she climbed out of the shallow grave and headed toward freedom, praying she would find someone willing to help her.

  * * *

  QUINT STABBED HIS fingers through his thick hair as exasperation settled in. Ree had been gone for hours with no word. Her cell phone tracked to the trash can on the street outside the downtown Dallas apartment they shared for the undercover assignment that he’d insisted they take so he could get vengeance for his former partner. As their last undercover case was wrapping up, a message had come from Dumitru asking Quint to kill the person who’d been arrested during the bust. The head of the crime ring believed Quint was in jail alongside Vadik, a man Dumitru couldn’t afford to have strike a plea bargain in exchange for giving up information. As it turned out, the text hadn’t come from Dumitru. It had come from his secondhand man by the name of Lindy.

  Putting Ree in danger due to Quint’s personal need for revenge sat like a hot poker in his gut. She’d hinted she might be ready to retire her undercover career. The only reason she’d taken the last two assignments
was to be the one to watch his back. She hadn’t said it outright, but he knew it to be true.

  James Grappell, the desk agent assigned to them, had been able to pinpoint the exact location of her phone. There was no good reason for Ree to drop her cell in the garbage. Quint had retrieved it and cleaned it off, and now it was sitting on the counter half-wrapped in a paper towel.

  Ree was out there without a communication device. This was in connection to the case. No doubt in his mind. He had been asked to arrange for Vadik to die in jail. Since Quint’s most recent cover story was that he’d been incarcerated and recently released, his connections on the inside should be strong and—at least to Lindy’s thinking—difficult to tie back to Dumitru or any of his colleagues.

  Quint had been beaten almost to a pulp a few weeks ago as part of a twisted initiation into Dumitru’s crime ring.

  His cell phone buzzed, still in his hand. The screen revealed an unknown caller. Since Quint could count on one hand the number of folks who had this number, he answered.

  The familiar voice of his partner and fiancée came through the line. “Quint, it’s me. Ree.” Wind roared in the background, making it difficult to hear a word being said.

  “Where are you?” he asked loudly in an attempt to speak over the noise as his pulse skyrocketed.

  “On the highway, heading back to Dallas. I hitched a ride and borrowed a cell phone,” she said, raising her voice. Being on the highway explained the wind tunnel sound.

  “What happened and are you okay?” A half-dozen questions bottlenecked in his brain, each fighting to be the next one spoken out loud. A potent mix of anger and relief assaulted him. All he could allow himself to focus on was the fact she was alive.

  “I’m good. I’ll explain everything when I get there. Lock the doors, and don’t respond to any messages from anyone until I’m back,” she shouted. Her voice kept cutting out, but he picked up the gist of what she was saying. “Oh, and, Quint. Don’t trust Giselle.”

  The line went dead.