Miami, Mistletoe & Murder (Red Stone Security #4) Read Free Page A

own—he shoved that thought away.
    Now was the time to focus on diffusing whatever was going on. He’d texted Grant Caldwell, who was Harrison’s brother and a former detective with the Miami PD. The newest Red Stone employee had gotten back to him immediately telling him that help was on the way.
    But Juanita’s mom might not have time. Dusk had just fallen so it was dark enough for him to blend into the shadows. Something he was damn good at. After eight years in Force Recon, most of those spent in violent warzones, he knew how to be invisible.
    Weapon in hand, he jumped fences and ran until he reached the address Noel had given him. Creeping along the neighbor’s house, he moved until he had a perfect view of Juanita’s home. There were two cars in the driveway along with a woman’s purse. The belongings had been strewn in the yard and on the driveway, indicating a struggle. Though they hadn’t been turned on, he could see that they’d decorated their bushes and palm tree with lights. There also weren’t any lights on in the house.
    There wasn’t much Travis hated more than a piece of shit who liked to hurt women. Jumping the last fence, he crept to the side of the one-story home until he reached the metal fence surrounding the backyard. Instead of vaulting over it, he quietly opened the gate. Leaving the door open, he moved silently to the corner of the home, and rounded it into the backyard. He was directly under a window. The curtains were slightly cracked so he grasped the sill and started to push up.
    That was when he heard the male voice, slurred and shouting. “Tell me where she is, you stupid whore!” It was followed by a muted crack, like a palm hitting a cheek.
    Gritting his teeth, Travis half-stood and peered through the window. A dim light above the stove was the only illumination but it was enough for him to see what was going on. A woman with straight, dark hair and pale skin sat at a round wooden table, clutching her upper arm with her free hand. Her hand was covered in blood and a tall, muscular man wearing a flannel shirt and khakis was waving a gun around and shouting, wanting to know where Juanita was. The woman was crying and shaking her head, mumbling in Spanish.
    Shit.
    Ducking back down, he made a split second decision. There was no way he could wait for the police. This guy was clearly agitated and had already escalated to extreme violence by shooting the woman. Travis’s steps were silent as he covered the next half of the house until he reached a sliding glass door. Since Juanita had escaped into the backyard, he hoped it wasn’t locked.
    When the door slid open soundlessly, he let out a silent sigh of relief. The shouting grew louder as he moved farther into the home. He mentally catalogued his surroundings in case he needed to make a fast exit, but he didn’t have much doubt he could take this one guy who sounded drunk.
    Following the voice, he didn’t stop until he was in a hallway directly outside the kitchen. From his limited perspective, he could see half the table, and the left half of the woman still sitting in the chair. Blood had created a crimson pool on the floor and it was growing by the second.
    Travis had to get this woman help and fast. When the man appeared in his line of vision, gun in his hand but held loosely down by his side, Travis moved into the entryway with his weapon drawn.
    “Drop your gun or I’ll shoot to kill.” Travis raised his voice only loud enough to be heard over the crying woman.
    The man with slicked back dark hair looked at him in shock. He was definitely wasted. His dark eyes were red-rimmed and glassy and it looked like he hadn’t showered in days. His gun hand twitched.
    “Don’t do it. You only get one warning.” Travis took a step closer, his gun pointed right at the man’s head.
    He saw the decision in the man’s eyes the second the guy made it and Travis inwardly cursed. But he didn’t have a choice.
    As the guy began to raise