

### Christmas Gone Wild

### Candice Poarch

### Other Titles

Christmas Gone Wild**

Slippery Slope **

Secrets in the Sand **

A Kiss So Deadly **

A New Year, A New Beginning

The Christmas Gift

Shattered Illusions+

Lighthouse Magic+

White Lightning *

With This Kiss *

Intimate Secrets *

The Last Dance *

Family Bonds

Essence of Love

Beyond Yesterday

* Welcome to Nottoway Series

** Fifty Gone Wild Series

\+ Coree Island Series

Copyright @ 2013 by Candice P. Baines

Published at Smashwords

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher: Candice Poarch, PO Box 291, Springfield, VA 22150

Cover Design: Shirley Hailstock

Photo Credit: Shutterstock

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Dear Reader

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Excerpts

Chapter 1

Christmas was right around the corner and Lauren Grant's son and new wife would be here soon. And she was late decorating the house for the holidays—their first holiday together as a family. Spending a quiet Thanksgiving with her friends just wasn't the same.

She'd decorate as soon as she returned from her trip. With weeks of "use or lose" leave and comp time, she had to use by the end of the year, she'd taken the month of December off, but she'd only spend a week or so in North Carolina.

She was uncomfortable about going alone, but her life was in a rut and she hoped this trip would change everything. Lauren shook her head. Here she was taking off on her own to meet some guy she really didn't know, but she was enjoying the picturesque view of the Outer Banks as she arrived in the peaceful town of Wet Sands.

The sky was clear and the water gleamed. Children played on the hard-packed sand beach with their parents. Now and then she saw a jeep driving along the water's edge.

The world of online dating was old news, but for her it was new and huge. God knows she'd tried everything else. Well, maybe not everything. The average man wanted the skinny and young Paris Hilton type. Even men her age that thought dating a twenty-something would make them younger.

Even with her springing for some new makeup and cream to erase the marks of age, fifty-five was fifty-five. No matter what, she wasn't twenty.

Everyone seemed to be paired off these days. She was enjoying the sight of a couple walking the beach with their dog when her phone rang.

A brief glance revealed the caller's identity. It was Josh. "Back from your honeymoon?" she asked. His new wife Cindy and he had taken a honeymoon in Hawaii.

"Yeah, but it was too short."

"Two months would have been too short there. Had a great time?"

"Didn't you get my card?"

"I did. Some day I'll make it there." It was one of the many things on her to-do list. Except she'd stopped making those promises long ago.

"You have to go, Mom. Cindy and I will take you one day. Are you taking care of yourself?"

"Of course. Haven't I always? As a matter of fact, I'm taking off for a vacation in the Outer Banks. Lindsey's husband offered me a room in his place. It's right on the beach and huge. Ten bedrooms she said, and I was promised one with an ocean view."

"Sounds great. But what about this new guy I haven't met yet?"

"He's here, too, but I'm surprising him. I'll call him when I settle in."

There was a pause. "Mom, Cindy's parents invited us to their home for Christmas. They invited you, too. Will you come? Cindy wants to go."

Lauren's heart sank. She was so looking forward to spending Christmas with her son and his new wife. She heard the worry beneath his voice. And she didn't want to impose on Cindy's parents. They lived in San Francisco while she lived in Northern Virginia. Traveling during the holidays was never her thing and it was late to get a ticket.

"We'll see. I might have plans of my own, but I know you'll have a great time there."

"I don't want you to spend the holiday alone."

"I won't."

"We're still thinking about it. Have fun on your vacation, Mom. You deserve it."

"I will. And stop worrying. Tell Cindy I said hi. Christmas in San Francisco will be wonderful."

Slightly disappointed, Lauren disconnected and turned up the music, but the news came on. A local twenty-six-year-old young woman, Carolyn Makepeace, was missing, but her family thought the police weren't taking it seriously. The young woman had a history of going off for a week or two without telling anyone, but her family said this time was different. She usually left after an argument. Nothing had happened this time.

Lauren switched the station. She hoped the young woman was safe. She always worried about her son and knew how these parents were concerned about their daughter, too.

Lauren pulled off Beach Road and drove several blocks to her destination.

She parked in a slot off the short driveway. Patrick's jeep was parked under the carport. For a moment she took it all in. There was a line of houses on both sides of the street. Patrick's was gray with huge windows and balconies.

Lauren got out the car and breathed in the bright sea air. After the long drive, it was good to be here. She glanced around.

A man was standing on the porch of the house next door watching her.

Lauren smiled. "Hello," she said with a warm greeting.

He didn't smile, nor did he speak. He stared at her again and went into the house. That was strange. Her friend said the people were usually friendly here. Lauren shrugged it off.

Patrick opened the door. At seventy he stood military straight, his hair completely white and cut short. Just a few lines edged his face.

"What're you doing out there?" he asked. "I'll help you with your luggage."

"I have it," she said. "It's just one suitcase. I packed light."

"Just roll it to the elevator. Door's open."

The suitcase was heavy so Patrick made his way down the steep stairs and walked with her to the elevator. He escorted her to a sizeable room on the third floor with a beachfront view.

"This is beautiful, Patrick. Thank you."

"You've got your pick, but this one has the best view of the beach. The kitchen's on this floor. Here's a key," he said, handing one to her. "And since you'll be here alone sometimes, I'll give you the code to the alarm system. You are coming to my birthday party tonight, aren't you?"

"If I can find a costume."

"That's an easy one to solve. My buddy's daughter runs a tourist shop that stocks them. About three miles from here. Should find something there. But hurry. There's not much time before it closes."

"Your neighbor. He isn't very friendly is he?"

"Don't worry about that asshole. Gives loud parties. I've reported him a couple of times. Don't know if they're dealing dope or what's going on over there. You better hurry if you plan to get there before closing."

He gave her the directions and although, after the five-hour drive from Virginia, all Lauren wanted to do was take a long hot shower, she headed back to her car. With a longing glace at the beach she made her way to the strip mall.

* * *

The place looked deserted. Only one man was in the store.

"Hello there," he said. In his late fifties, he was drop dead gorgeous. A shock of sun-bleached hair looked as if he'd raked his hand through it several times. It hung a little on his neck. Could use a trim, Lauren thought, but couldn't help the attraction she felt.

Lauren smiled. "Can you point me to the costumes?"

He loped from behind the counter and hovered over her. At least six-one, he had a military build like Patrick's. A man of action.

"This way," he said. "There's not much left. My friend's having a party and it looks as if most of the attendees waited till the last minute to buy their costumes." Every muscle in his body was solid.

Lauren thought she was about to have one of her hot flashes the way heat took her breath away. She fanned herself.

"I hope you have something that fits."

He narrowed his gaze. "Would Cat Woman work?"

Lauren thought of her generous curves stuffed into a form-fitting black suit. "You're joking, right?"

He fingered through the meager selections. "I don't think 'Little Bo Peep' will work, or 'Snow White' maybe?" he asked hopefully.

"No."

"Humm." He glanced at her and brushed his hand through his hair again, frowning. "If you don't mind my saying, you got a nice figure, there. Any of them would look good."

"I'm not wearing Cat Woman." Lauren was tired and cranky and she'd been unable to contact Howard.

"Cinderella?"

Lauren gave him a look. "Seriously."

The man shook his head. "I told my daughter I wasn't good at this. She's much better. A born saleswoman, but she just had a baby. It was due after we closed down for the season, but the baby had ideas of her own about when she was going to arrive. That left 'yours truly' with trying to get his shoe out of his mouth with these costumes."

Lauren's heart softened. "Congratulations. Is this your first grandchild?"

"It is. And I'm happy as a clam except when I'm making a fool out of myself."

"Let me take a look." The selections were minimal at best. But Lauren rooted around until she found the wicked witch. Her hand was already dragging the outfit off the rack when she had second thoughts. Why did she have to parade around like a mean old witch when she could be the princess? Okay maybe she was older than the traditional princess, but she was special too, so she chose a princess costume she was able to find in her size.

"That'll look good on you."

Lauren had second thoughts. This man had absolutely no taste when it came to costumes, but it would just have to do. She wanted a walk along the beach before she dressed for the party.

"So you're Patrick's guest," he said at length.

"How did you know?"

"We were in the Army together. Knew each other for many years."

"See you at the ball," he said as she made her way out the door.

Lauren tried to reach Howard again as she made her way back to the house, but was still unsuccessful. His voice mail box was full, so after she parked she texted him asking him to contact her.

* * *

So her name was Lauren. Adam's gut tightened as he watched her leave the store, walking with purpose and in that sassy manner that was uniquely hers. He could tell right off she didn't appreciate her assets, that she thought she had to look like a model to be beautiful, but he loved a woman who looked like a woman and not a picture in a magazine. The women in the era of the fifties—like Marilyn Monroe, Doris Day—they looked like women. They had curves. Lauren was in her early fifties and her dark hair was cut to sway along her shoulders. She was very pretty. Had a little attitude, too, but he could deal with that.

She pulled out the driveway and Adam turned the closed sign on the door and finished his tasks before he made his way to his truck.

He first drove to his daughter Amanda's house and let himself in.

"Anybody home?" he asked.

"We just finished our feeding."

"Grandpa's got perfect timing," he said, heading to the family room. It was cool outside and Amanda Corbett had started the fire in the fireplace. She and his granddaughter were bundled up on the couch. Amanda had his dark hair but her mother's hazel eyes, he thought as he took his granddaughter from her. No telling what that little bundle was going to look like, but he knew she was going to be a heart stealer, just like her mom.

"She hasn't been burped yet," Amanda warned.

"Grandpa can do that." He snatched a cloth and laid it against his shoulder and placed her there. God, this felt good. This tiny little baby was his precious granddaughter. He still had a hard time accepting his little girl had grown up, much less being a mother. Adam knew he was making a pest of himself but he couldn't help it. They were both miracles.

"When will Uncle Patrick's guest arrive?" she asked as he settled in the recliner.

"She's here. Stopped by the store for a costume. Your old man didn't make a good impression, though. Despite that, I sold."

"So tell me about her? Is she nice? Pretty?"

"Didn't notice," he drawled without looking at her, to keep her from reading the lie on his face. He noticed all right and got a kick in his gut every time he thought of how some of those costumes would fit her curves. Amanda usually didn't like the women he dated.

"Really, Dad?" Amanda was clearly disappointed.

"I was working. Business was slow today."

"It usually is this time of year. Uncle Patrick has been in a snit about her visit all week. He wants to make a nice impression. You didn't ruin it, did you?

"Come on. Patrick's more nervous about the party," he said, searching for something to change the subject. "Those flowers are looking wilted. I'm going to have to bring you a new bunch."

"We were discussing Uncle Patrick's guest."

Patrick wasn't really her uncle, but she'd always called him that since Patrick was more a father figure to Adam.

"What's her name?"

"Lauren," he said before he caught himself and the pleased expression on her pretty face. He raised an eyebrow. "You're not matchmaking, are you?"

Her chin shot up in defiance. "What if I am? It's time you found someone nice."

"I married your mom. That's it for me."

"That's sad, Dad. You need a real woman in your life, not the type you know you can't settle with. Mom moved on years ago. It's time you did, too."

The baby burped. "All right. I have to get ready for the party. Wish you could come." He kissed his granddaughter on the cheek and handed her to his daughter. Then he held both of them in his arms briefly before he kissed Amanda on her cheek, too. "Tell Lance hello for me and to take good care of my girls."

"He always does. Have a great time at the party, Dad. And tell Uncle Patrick I sent a box full of kisses to him."

"Tell him yourself."

"I will, right now." She smiled and waved at him as he left.

Wasn't life great? His two precious ladies. He couldn't be more proud. And she'd chosen a good husband, too, he thought as he drove home, right across the street form Patrick's place. He noticed Lauren's car in the drive when he pulled into his own.

They lived along a narrow strip of land with only a half mile between the shores. His place was on the sound side and he easily walked across to the beach most evenings for a stroll or jog along the ocean. But not this evening. He smiled. He hadn't planned on dressing in costume, but Lauren would be there. After the effort she made, it looked as if he was going to have to put a costume together for the party after all.

Chapter 2

The party was held at the Walton's house. General Walton—a two-star general—and his wife had settled here after his retirement. The house was on the ocean, too, but it was slightly smaller than Patrick's. Lauren came to the party with Patrick and he introduced her to the owners.

"We spend the winters here, but our family lives in Michigan," Lucy Walton was saying. "We spend our summers there. The general doesn't like shoveling snow, but he didn't want to settle in Florida, either. So this is a happy medium."

"You have a lovely home," Lauren said. "I'm looking forward to walking along the beach."

"I walk there every day. Hopefully we'll meet up sometimes."

For the first half hour Patrick had kept her by his side to introduce her to the guests. Many of them were local policemen and park police and retired military. After a career in the Army, Patrick had worked in law enforcement for many years and retired five years ago.

"Is your friend attending the party?" she asked him at one point.

Patrick smiled down at her. "He wouldn't miss it."

Lauren blushed. Okay, she had been attracted to the man, but she wasn't about to admit it. She was here to spend time with Howard.

"His name is Adam, if he failed to mention it. Adam Forsythe."

Stumped for words, Lauren said, "Oh" and greeted the next couple Patrick introduced her to.

It was nine-thirty now, and Lauren walked around slowly alone, studying the guests, hoping that one of them was Howard. He was supposed to attend the party—at least that was what he'd told her. Originally he'd invited her, but she thought she wouldn't be able to finish her project at work in time and declined. Besides, their relationship was new. She wasn't ready to spend two weeks with him quite yet. But after her son's marriage she'd felt so lonely and abandoned. She knew she needed to move forward.

All her life, she'd had to work extra hard as a single parent to provide her son with what he needed. After college, they'd spent time together, talked several times a week. They'd been close. He'd dated but none of the relationships were serious. And then suddenly he was dating seriously and the entire dynamics changed. It was what she wanted for him. A life with love and companionship. What she'd shared with his father until his death.

She had some close friends, but it wasn't the same. And he worried about her. So after the wedding she worked fourteen hour days to finish her project so that she would have some time with Howard and see if it could be serious enough to move forward with their relationship. Except, she couldn't find him. He wasn't answering his phone. She called the hotel where he'd told her he would be staying, but no one by that name was listed.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Remember me?"

A grotesque-looking werewolf was staring at her. The man needed some serious help. What woman would let her man out looking like that?

She frowned. It couldn't be. "Howard?" she asked tentatively. But he was more built than Howard. Of course he could be padded under the shoulders—and everywhere else. But the height didn't fit either.

"You would've looked good as Cat Woman."

Lauren chuckled. "Adam."

"That's me."

"How are mother and grandbaby?"

"Great. Stopped by to see them for a few minutes. Have you tried the hors d'oeuvres?"

"No."

"They're great. Why don't I take you over there?"

Before she could respond he'd cupped her elbow and steered her across the room. Even now, looking as grotesque as he did, she felt desire flowing through her.

He stayed by her side for the next two hours.

Later, they met Patrick at the drinks table.

"I see you've found Adam," Patrick said, as if she'd been looking for him. "Good to see you, man."

They made small talk and Lauren tried to smother a yawn. "I'm going to call a cab. It was a long drive from Virginia," she said.

"I can take you home," Adam offered.

Lauren was getting vibes from him she just didn't trust. "I'll get a cab. Stay and enjoy the party. And happy birthday," Lauren said to Patrick, standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"Could take a while..."

Patrick was shaking his head at Adam. "I'm ready to leave, too," he said. "Let's go. Kiss that grandbaby for me," he told Adam and walked with Lauren to the car.

"It's only 11:30. You don't have to leave this early."

"It's past my bedtime. I'm an early riser." He opened the door for her and she got in. He quickly followed and started the motor.

"You know Adam's a great guy," Patrick said, steering the car down the dark, two-lane road. "If I ever needed help, he's the first one I'd go to and he'd have my back."

"Why're you telling me this?"

"Because. He's one of the best, although he doesn't think so."

"You're a great guy. Who else would have married a woman to save her life?"

He'd married her best friend, Lindsey, when she had cancer because her job didn't offer decent insurance. He'd married her so she could get the medical attention she needed. They were still married although they never lived as man and wife.

"Her father was a good friend."

"Were all your Army buddies great?"

"I knew who I could trust and who I couldn't. Those two were at the top of my list. I don't trust easily."

"Patrick, I'm in a relationship. Don't try playing matchmaker. You can't at my age."

"You're still young—in your forties. I just turned seventy and I don't feel old."

Lauren laughed. "I saw you dancing. No, you aren't old. And FYI I'm in my fifties. Not forties."

"Coulda fooled me."

"Patrick, are you having a sixth sense about something?" Lindsey had mentioned Patrick's sixth sense. Worked well with him when he was in the Army and on the police force in Chicago.

"I'm just telling you that you can trust Adam. That's all. I want you to keep that vacation even if that young man doesn't show up."

"If I can't reach him by tomorrow, I'm leaving."

"Take your vacation. Don't let a man spoil that. We've spoiled enough things in life."

"Is this a personal reference?"

He glanced over at her. "Could be. I've done some dumb things in my lifetime. Let some great women go. Thought I knew it all. It's taken me all this time to realize I didn't know anything." The music played low in the car as Lauren absorbed his words.

"But isn't that the way of life? We all make dumb mistakes."

"I think men make more than women. You're more cautious. Think twice before you act. We just go headlong into something and think about it when it's too late."

"Too much caution isn't always good."

They had reached home and Patrick pulled into the carport. When they walked into the house together, Lauren hugged him briefly.

"You saved my friend and I think you're a great guy."

He chuckled and patted her shoulder before he went to his room and she went to hers, closing the door after her.

After Lauren dressed for bed, she pulled a shawl around her shoulders and went out on the balcony to listen to the ocean. It was peaceful. It was dark but not the pitch darkness that she expected. From the moonlight she could see a shadow of the waves as they came ashore.

Where was Howard and why didn't he return her calls? What was she doing here waiting for a man she really didn't know? They'd met online. He had visited Northern Virginia a couple of times, but what did she really know about him? They exchanged very little personal information. She still wondered about his age. He'd told her he was fifty, but he appeared younger, maybe in his forties.

Was she dating him because she was lonely? Could it really go further? Should it?

After five minutes she went back inside and locked the door, but she left a crack in the window and burrowed beneath the heavy covers. She was exhausted and it didn't take long for the waves to lull her to sleep.

* * *

The next morning Lauren awakened to the smell of bacon. She groaned and glanced at the clock. It was nine. She couldn't believe she'd slept so late—for almost ten hours. And she still felt a little tired. She got up and glanced out the window. The day was a little overcast, but she wanted to walk along the beach before the rain came.

She quickly showered and dressed. When she made it to the kitchen, there was a note propped against the salt and pepper shakers. Patrick had gone out, but had left breakfast for her. She poured a cup of coffee and ate a delicious breakfast of eggs, toast, and bacon. Then she put the dishes in the dishwasher and donned her hat, gloves, and jacket and made her way outside. Finally.

The temperature was in the high fifties. A perfect morning for walking. She went a couple of miles along the ocean before she turned around and slowly made her way back, gathering colorful seashells along the way.

Quickly she had a hand full. The beach felt almost deserted so there were plenty for her to select from. Next time she'd bring a bag.

Lauren climbed the steps over the sand dunes to Patrick's house. She wanted to talk to him and hoped he was back. She still felt uneasy about their conversation the night before.

A dog stopped and began to bark and pull at its owner's leash. The owner tugged gently and they were soon on their way, but the dog kept looking back and occasionally barked at her.

Lauren went down the steps on the other side of the dune. She frowned. She could see the sole of a flip flop peeking out from the hedges. Did the dog take the shoe from the yard? Remembering the dog's frantic barks, gingerly she edged toward the shoe and rounded the corner. Before she could stop herself, she stepped back and screamed.

Patrick was wedged between a wheel barrow and the hedge. And he was dead.

* * *

Three hours later Lauren was sitting in a chair near the dunes. Adam was beside her, clearly grieving, although he didn't show emotions the way she would have if Patrick was her best friend. His head hung low, with his hands dangling between his knees. After she told him what had happened, he'd said nothing.

A detective approached her. "Ms. Grant?"

She glanced up. Eric Payne was his name and he was around thirty-five. His blond hair was cut short and he kept sweeping back an unruly curl that dangled on his wide forehead.

"Now what time did you say you heard him cooking?"

"Around nine. The coffee and bacon awakened me. Now to think about it, I went to sleep with the door to my room closed. When I woke up, my door was open. He must have looked in on me. It was the smell of breakfast that awakened me."

Detective Payne scratched his head.

"What's going on?" Adam asked, interest peaked.

"You see, the coroner estimates the victim's death at one."

"One?"

He nodded. "Last night. We think he'd been dead at least ten hours when you found him."

Prickles of fear spun through Lauren. "But...but that's impossible. I heard him moving around in the kitchen. I didn't prepare breakfast. He did."

Adam put a calming hand on her arm. "Are you saying somebody else was in the house cooking?"

"It couldn't have been Mr. Olsson," the detective assured him. "Could it have been a housekeeper?"

"No," Adam said. "She never cooks and only comes once a week to clean."

"Oh, my God." Lauren felt sick. Somebody had walked into her bedroom while she was sleeping. Somebody had cooked breakfast. "What if something was in the food?"

"I think you should go to the hospital to get blood work done. Make sure everything's okay. You said he left a note."

"On the table. Propped up by the salt and pepper shakers."

"There's nothing on the table."

"I forgot I put the note in my pocket. I was going to throw it away..." She pulled the note from her pocket and handed it over.

The detective took it by the edge and placed it into an evidence bag. "Do you know if this is his handwriting?" he asked.

"Let me see." Adam glanced at the note. "It's a good imitation, but it's not his. His e's and curves are different. There are a few more differences, too. It's close."

"And you are?"

"His best friend. Adam Forsythe. We worked together for many years."

"Were you on the Chicago police force with him?"

"No. We were in the Army together. I just recently moved here from Northern Virginia."

Lauren felt like she was in a tunnel. She shivered and Adam clasped an arm around her shoulders. A stranger, _a murderer_ had been in the house, _in her room_ watching her as she slept and he'd cooked her breakfast.

"Can we discuss your movements once you returned home last night?" Detective Payne asked.

"Patrick drove us home and after preparing for bed I went on the deck for a few moments then cracked the window to hear the surf and went to bed."

"What about Mr. Olsson?"

"He went to his room. I didn't hear anything after that."

"Did you get up at all through the night to use the bathroom maybe?"

"No. I slept the entire night. I don't understand why Patrick would be outside that time of the morning. He said he was tired, that he was going to bed, too. Unless...unless he was dragged out there. And how did the murderer get into the house? The alarm was on."

"Did you disengage the alarm when you went out?"

"No. It was already off."

"Did Mr. Olsson engage the alarm last night when you came in?"

"Yes, to show me how to use it and to give me the code."

"We took fingerprints. We'll see if yours are there. And don't leave the area right now. We may have more questions."

Lauren was alarmed. Did they think she killed Patrick?

The officer let Adam take her to the hospital for the blood work and they left.

Chapter 3

They examined her and took blood samples and sent her home. They'd contact her once they received the results.

"They think I killed Patrick. Do you think I did it?" Lauren asked Adam later.

"They don't know who did it. They're just covering all their bases. And I'm not going to let them lay the blame on you, even if I have to catch the asshole myself."

"So you don't think I killed him."

"Why would I? What did you have to gain?"

Lauren shook her head.

"You can't stay in the house. I want you to move in with me for a little while," Adam said.

"I'm going to check into the hotel down the road."

"It'll be harder for me to protect you there."

Lauren jerked her gaze to him. "Why do you think I need protection? Patrick was murdered, not me. If the killer wanted to murder me he would have done so."

"But you don't know if he's coming back for you. He cooked your breakfast. That worries me. Something else is going on here and I have to figure out what."

"The police..."

"Will be chasing their tails. They don't have a clue and they can't focus on just you. One of the reasons I came here was because I'm concerned about my daughter. A couple of women have gone missing and they think it's someone in the summer tourist crowd. If someone has targeted you, the easiest way to get to you is have you on your own. Patrick's not here to protect you."

Ordinarily, Lauren didn't let anyone tell her what to do, but she was a stranger to this area. And Patrick's last words had been that Adam could be trusted. He'd trust his life with him. Then maybe she should listen.

"Let me try to reach my friend again." She dialed Howard's number again and he answered on the third ring.

"Hey babe. It's good to hear from you. Working hard?"

"Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you."

"I was called out of town on an assignment. I'm sorry, I missed your call. But I didn't get a message."

"Your mailbox was full," Lauren said dispassionately. "I couldn't leave a message. Couldn't you have told me you were leaving the area? You invited me to a party and I came to Wet Sands to spend some time with you."

"You're there? Oh, babe. Where are you?"

"Something horrible has happened. The friend I was staying with was murdered last night. It's a long story and I don't want to get into it right now."

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

"Where are you?"

"I'm still out of town. But I should be back in a week."

"I'm going to get my car and check into the hotel. The police wants me to stay for a while. They may have additional questions."

"Honey, I hate to do this when you need me most. If I could get out of it I would. We need this time together, but things will be better."

Lauren didn't respond.

"You know how it is with work. I train women on how to protect themselves from predators. It's important. I'll visit you soon. I don't mind coming to Virginia."

Lauren rubbed her forehead. "Call me later."

"I will," he said calmly.

Lauren disconnected but she felt frazzled, out of sorts, and confused.

"What's going on with this guy?" Adam asked.

"I came here to spend a week or so with him. I didn't think I'd be able to at first because of work, but I finished my project. When I looked for him at Pat...at the party he wasn't there and I couldn't reach him." Lauren sighed. "He's out of town."

"How did you meet him?" Adam asked curiously.

"Online."

He scowled. "That's not the safest place. Do you trust him?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"How long have you known him?"

Lauren paused. "We've been seeing each other for a couple of months."

"You've met his family?"

"No. His mother lives in the area, but they aren't close."

"Where's he from?"

"Somewhere around here."

"What's his name?"

"What's this? The Spanish Inquisition? Why do you suspect Howard of Patrick's murder? He had no reason to murder him. Didn't even know him. He didn't even know I was here."

"You didn't leave a message when you called him?"

"His mailbox was full."

"No texts either?"

"I did text him, but I didn't tell him where I was staying."

"I'll tell you this. If my woman had been in the house where a murder occurred, I'd see for myself that she was okay."

He would, Lauren thought. But Adam was a warrior through and through. Howard was more laid back, less combative. But Howard didn't owe her anything. They were trying to figure out where they should go from here. She'd been the cautious one when Howard wanted to push things. So maybe it was her fault that he was holding back now.

Besides, she was used to taking care of herself.

Adam pulled to the side of the road and hit the wheel with his palm. "Damn it."

"I'm sorry," Lauren said. She could tell Patrick's death hit him hard.

"He was my best friend in the world." Grief covered Adam like a coat. Few things in life made him stagger, but this did.

"I've got to walk on the beach. Take the keys and drive home."

He got out the car and headed to the water. He expected Lauren to leave. No woman he let in his life had ever stuck by him for the hard times. Not like Patrick had. He'd been the father he never knew. He'd been his mentor.

Adam had been a snot-nosed kid with an attitude with nothing but trouble looking down on him when he'd gone to basic training and ended up with a sergeant named Patrick. Patrick was so damn hard on him that the only reason Adam stayed was to prove him wrong. That he wasn't nothing, even if he came from nothing. Patrick had taken him aside, showed him a different life—showed him that life could be what he made it.

Adam had been from the Deep South. Alabama. On the wrong side of the tracks, with parents who drank too much to give a damn. He'd gotten into trouble and he had a choice. Either the service or jail. He'd chosen the service. His life had changed the day he met Patrick, for what he thought was the worst at first. But by the end of Basic Training, he knew he was going to make the Army his career, and he knew he was going to make something of his life.

And by damn, he had. He had a beautiful daughter and granddaughter. His daughter was happily married with a husband who was going somewhere, too. Raised by nice God-fearing parents. He hadn't been that much into religion, but without being a fanatic, his ex-wife had taught their daughter values and she'd even loved him for a little while. She didn't like military travel and absence didn't make the heart grow fonder. They'd divorced, but she'd done right by their daughter and he was grateful for that.

But he wasn't going to let Patrick's murderer go unpunished. He didn't place much hope in the locals to find the culprit.

He felt a hand on his back and looked up. Lauren was standing behind him. He thought she'd go back to the house to get her things. He wasn't used to leaning on people, but for some inexplicable reason, he felt kind of glad that she was there.

"Do you believe in premonitions?" she asked.

Adam stifled a grunt of distaste. "I believe in what I can see."

"I think Patrick did."

"Why would you say that?"

"Just by what he said to me last night."

Adam stiffened. "What did he say?"

"Just that I could trust you if anything happened. That there were few people he truly trusted and you were one of them."

"Why would he say that to you? You're nearly a stranger."

"I think he was trying to play matchmaker."

Adam nodded. "Yeah, him and my daughter."

* * *

Lauren's friend, Lindsey, who was still Patrick's wife, arrived early the next morning. Her cousin brought her down. Patrick's lawyer told her that he'd left the house to her and the final arrangements for his burial were hers since she was still legally married to him.

Adam had been touched that Patrick had left something to Amanda, too.

"I don't have a clue to what he wanted," she told Adam and Lauren.

"He wanted to be buried in Arlington Cemetery, but that can take a while," Adam said.

"We have to hold the funeral that long?"

"We have the funeral now and then the burial once we get a date."

By the time of the funeral the police didn't have a clue to Patrick's murderer, but closing this chapter was the opening for Adam's investigation. Looking into Patrick's death gave him the opportunity to replace his anger with action.

The police had given the house back to Lindsey. Although it was clear Lauren didn't want to stay there, she wouldn't leave Lindsey alone, so Adam ended up staying there, too.

They had lots to do, like pack up Patrick's clothing and going through his papers.

Lindsey just wasn't up for this so he told her, "Most of this can wait. Patrick kept the urgent papers in this folder. Wait until you're well enough to handle it before you go through them."

Lindsey nodded, obviously at the end of her rope. "He was so good to me. I want to do what's right."

"Don't give his money-grabbing relatives a single thought. He left them something, but not the bulk of his estate. That goes to you," he said. "They didn't care about him. You did."

"Thanks for saying that, but he saved me."

Adam touched her hand. "If you don't mind, I need to go through some of his papers."

Lindsey was drained completely. She waved a hand and told him to help himself and to take whatever he wanted.

"I'll help you settle in bed," Lauren said and left the room with Lindsey leaning heavily on her.

In half an hour she found Adam in Patrick's office. "What're you doing?"

He glanced up from a file. "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me."

Adam glanced at her wearily. "I'm not used to confiding in anyone."

"This concerns me. I want to know."

"I'm looking to see if Patrick was working on any of his old cases."

"Why?"

A muscle jumped in Adam's jaw. "To see if that was why he was murdered." The autopsy had reported that Patrick had died as a result of blunt force trauma, similar to a murder done by some rowdy kids a couple of months ago. Some evidence pointed to kids who lived about five miles away. "I don't think it was kids. And you're still in danger as long as that killer is out there. It's just too...bizarre."

"But they found evidence."

"Maybe."

* * *

Patrick had boxes of open cases. Either cold cases or cases where he thought the wrong person was convicted.

Adam went through every one of them. It was the second day before he finally found something that tweaked his interest. It was clear that Patrick was working on two cases. He had clippings of women who had disappeared in this area in the last five years. Not necessarily right in Wet Sands, but also in other areas of the Outer Banks, Virginia Beach, and Myrtle Beach.

The murders were scattered enough that they appeared to be different. But Patrick had connected them with murders in other coastal areas like Seattle and Martha's Vineyard.

Adam studied the case for a couple of days.

Lindsey's cousin finally came to take her back to Northern Virginia and Lauren moved into the hotel. Patrick's house was empty and Lindsey would let her stay there for free, but his death was too new and she'd feel uncomfortable roaming around in that huge mansion alone.

"I'm being very careful," she assured Adam.

"There wasn't a theft. The asshole cooked breakfast for you. We don't know why Patrick was murdered. But I'm thinking he was getting close to something and somebody wanted him stopped. Thank God your toxicology results came back okay."

"I could have gotten up to go into the kitchen at any time. Why take the chance of me catching him? That doesn't make sense."

"Lots of things sick folks do don't make sense. It's only in their minds. It has nothing to do with reality. This wasn't an ordinary murder, and it wasn't kids. The person who did this doesn't think like a normal person. Neither can you."

"You know it was a man?"

"I'm not ruling anything out at this point. I have to study Patrick's notes. See what he came up with. He kept a lot in his head."

"I hope you can find him quickly," Lauren said. "I can only stay another week."

"How much leave do you have?"

"I'm off until the New Year, but I was thinking about cutting my vacation short. I don't take off very often."

"Count on being here a little longer."

"My son and daughter-in-law invited me to San Francisco for the holidays."

Adam had hoped she'd stay longer. "Do you want to go there for Christmas?"

"Not really. But he is my son. And we always spend the holiday together."

"I know how you feel. Since I retired from the Army, I try to spend Christmas with my daughter, but it doesn't always work out. I think she feels pulled between my ex-wife and me. So I don't make a big deal out of it when she spends it with her mother. But her mother was just here so I get her for a little while now."

"It's a tug of war, isn't it?"

"We adjust, make new lives and move on. At least we try."

"But she's family and you still want to be with her," Lauren said quietly.

"Yeah."

* * *

It was later that day when they heard the news that Carolyn Makepeace had been found murdered. Her body had been found in a ditch about ten miles south of Wet Sands. A biker had found her. Probably thousands of cars had passed that area before she was detected.

Adam went to the police station and asked for Detective Payne.

"How can I help you?" he asked when they'd settled in his office.

"I'm a former detective. Recently retired. I think Patrick was studying one of his older cases. He tied some of the murders together and thought a serial killer was involved. And I think the serial killer killed him. I'd like to attend the autopsy of Carolyn Makepeace."

"I don't think so. You and Ms. Grant are too close to the case. We can't give out privileged information."

"Lauren has nothing to gain by his death."

"Patrick's wife and she are best friends. Maybe his wife promised her something if she got rid of the husband."

"That woman is sick. Do you really think that sick woman killed her husband?"

Detective Payne studied the pen in his hand. "You tell me what you know about this serial killer."

"Some of the murders appear to be done by different people, but the evidence is close enough that Patrick was certain they were tied together." Adam pulled out a piece of paper. "I wrote it all down. Patrick has been working on this case for fifteen years. It was his first unsolved murder after he left the military. A young woman in Chicago was found by the Lake. DNA info and serial killing info wasn't as well documented back then, but now..."

"Thirty-five years ago will put you at what age?"

"Twenty-three. And before you go down the wrong lane like I think you are, I was out of the country serving my country during most of the earlier murders. I was working on the Fairfax County Police department the rest of the time. Recently retired."

Payne stood. "I already have your contact info. We have two murders to solve. If we need you for anything, I'll contact you."

Adam stood too. "You do that."

What a waste of time, Adam thought as he walked toward his car. But he had a buddy in the FBI that he'd worked with before. He'd contact him since the locals weren't interested.

Chapter 4

"Do you think the detective will let me go home soon?" Lauren asked Adam. He'd picked her up from the hotel to have dinner with her. It was a small seafood restaurant and the food was good.

"Maybe that girl's autopsy will show similarities with the other killings in the area. If that's the case, as soon as the autopsy is done, he's going to have to let you go. I don't think you're in danger. No one has tried to attack you and there's definitely nothing to tie you to the latest vic's murder."

"What about you? Are you going to sell your home in Northern Virginia or live between the two places?"

"I can't leave yet. Not until I find out who killed Patrick."

"But this murderer has been on the loose for thirty-five years. What makes you think you can find him?"

"Patrick was closing in on him," Adam said angrily. "That's why he killed him."

"So that puts you in danger."

Puzzled, he glanced at her. "My whole life has been one dangerous assignment after another. This isn't new to me."

Lauren shivered. Her feelings were growing for Adam by the day. She wouldn't want anything to happen to him. She knew now that her relationship with Howard wasn't going to amount to anything and she was wasting her time even considering it. And it wouldn't be fair to Howard to lead him on when the outcome was a foregone conclusion.

Lauren thought of how she'd always tried to protect her son, especially after her husband died. But then she realized she couldn't coddle him. He had to be able to spring forward without her trying to keep him a kid forever. She taught him to be safe, to steer away from trouble, but no matter how much you prepared your child, trouble had a way of following. You could only do your best and pray that God will take care of the rest. There should have been some time for peace in Adam's life, especially as a child. But the way he'd said it made her believe his troubles started from the time he could remember. It was as if he expected it.

"Tell me about your childhood."

"What childhood?" His smile was only the twist of his mouth. "You probably grew up with the white picket fence. Parents loved each other, loved you."

"Almost. No picket fence. Parents loved me, loved each other. I was an only child."

"So was I, thank God. Some people shouldn't have children. Especially my parents. But I made it out." He said it as if he had made it out of battle instead of a home. "Now you," he said tapping her on the nose. "You're made for a houseful of the little ones."

"I worked full time. That's not conducive to a houseful of kids. Just the one son."

"And I have one daughter. The best thing I ever did. She came out just fine, more due to my ex than to me."

"So there were some good things in your life."

"They never last. My wife left me when my daughter was young. She was tired of the military life. Of moving from place to place," he murmured. "She's a nester. Wanted to plant herself in one place and stay there. When she got the chance when I was stationed at Ft. Belvoir, she did and she hasn't moved since."

Lauren regarded him closely. "Did you move to Fairfax after you retired from the military?"

He nodded.

"Were you hoping to start things with your ex again?"

"I wanted to be near my kid. See her grow up. Be there if she needed me." He sighed. "And maybe..."

"What?"

He shook his head.

"Maybe you thought you could capture what you once shared with your daughter's mother. It had been good."

He glanced down at his hands. "Nothing good lasts."

"I don't believe that."

"Everything turn out perfect for you?"

Lauren shook her head. "My husband died. He wasn't perfect. I wasn't perfect, but we were good together."

"Women like you are made for perfect lives."

"I didn't have a perfect life."

"But you came out on top. Your son's married and fine."

"Life doesn't stay stagnant. It grows, it changes and you have to change with it. I'm not the person I was forty years ago or even ten or twenty. You can't let it beat you or you're lost. Just existing. And I don't ever want that. I want my life to mean something. I don't want to lie down in defeat."

"So you've done everything you've wanted to?"

She thought about that for a moment. Then she said with a twist of a smile. "No. I've had dreams that just drifted by the wayside."

He smiled. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Lauren chuckled. "You're going to think I'm silly."

"No."

"When I began college I had this dream of skydiving. I've always wanted to skydive, but I never did. Now I think I'd be too frightened to."

"No kidding. I don't see you as the skydiving type."

Lauren straightened her spine. "Why not?"

"I see you as the perfect little wife who stands by her man. The perfect cook. PTA president. Went to all her son's games and even baked the cookies. But I don't see you ripping off to places unexplored or skydiving."

"I think you've just insulted me."

"Good little mamas like you are a good thing," he teased but she could tell he was serious, too.

"It sounds dull. As if I'm just going through the paces, not really living."

He quirked his eyebrow. "Are you? I can't see you roaring down a roller coaster."

"I used to do roller coasters and the wild rides at amusement parks. I admit I don't any longer. I'm older, maybe not as free-willed as I was once," Lauren said with more than a little snap to her tone. How dare he call her dull? Lauren was more than a little miffed. "Somebody had to bake the cookies and attend PTA. What kind of schools would we have if there weren't parents like us?"

"Not good ones at all. I didn't say it was a bad thing."

"Just boring," Lauren sneered. What was this man turning her into? She didn't sneer.

He chuckled, kissed her on the tip of her nose, and heat spread through Lauren's body in a way it hadn't in a very long time. The effect this man had on her was so unnerving. He was so not her type, but yet...

"You're kind of cute when you get your dander up." When she narrowed her gaze at him, he said, "Calm down, honey. So you wanted to jump."

"It's been a while, but sometimes I think about the things I wanted to do and didn't."

"I was a jumper."

"A jumper?"

"In the Army. For a while."

_It figures_ , Lauren thought, relaxing a little. "I bet you were good at it."

He shrugged.

She bet he was good at a lot of things but shrugged it off as nothing. "What did you dream of doing and never did?"

"Food in my belly and to walk home without getting pounded on."

Lauren was alarmed. "Are you serious?"

"We don't all grow up in Camelot." He said it as if it was nothing to grow up like that in this country. She knew everyone wasn't privileged, but there was no reason for people in this country to be hungry.

"In the Army you had all the food you wanted. They trained you. So what did you want after that?"

He thought about that. "Maybe your Camelot." They both chuckled. "I'm going to take you on a jump. That's a promise."

"Sure." She believed he meant well, but most people made empty promises. Besides, why would she go skydiving at her age? She'd worked in the government since she was twenty-two—for thirty-three years. She could retire any time now. But she was going to wait until she was sixty. She didn't want to just sit around home and do nothing.

"My husband and I had planned to travel when we retired in our fifties. But that all changed."

"You can still travel."

Lauren shrugged. "I'm not comfortable traveling alone."

"Any of your girlfriends like to travel?"

"We take short trips together. But I meant international travel. The South of France. A Safari. China."

"You are adventuresome. I pegged you as a little plain."

"Thank you very much." She felt affronted. "You think you know me?"

"Pretty much."

She didn't like that. "Don't try to label me."

"Maybe Howard will take you on some of his trips."

"Maybe." But he wouldn't. And she wasn't ready to tell Adam that. Howard was too secretive. With her working long hours she hadn't thought too much about it. Their time together had been limited. Maybe she was settling for Howard because there was nothing more in her life. He could actually be married and she wouldn't know. There were too many holes. Too many unknowns and really she just didn't want to know any longer.

She'd been lonely when they met. Planning her son's wedding, knowing that change was occurring. But loneliness wasn't a good enough reason to hold onto a relationship that wasn't right. She needed to move forward alone. She was a whole person without a man. She had her friends. Her volunteer work in church. She craved more, but life went on and she had to move on with it.

Adam regarded Lauren closely. He didn't know what to think. He wanted to believe in her. With her he fantasized about something more than his child and grandchild. But he was cautious. He wasn't ready to trust completely just yet. Although things felt right with Lauren in a way it had never felt right before. But she was dating another man. One who probably fit her a lot better than he would. They were like oil and vinegar. She was a sweet homebody. He was a warrior. That was all he knew.

But she made him feel—whole. Made him urge for something tender and sweet in his life.

"Nobody ever baked cookies for me." He felt foolish. Why did he say that? He was only thinking it and mistakenly said his thoughts out loud.

"Really?" she said as if it were impossible.

"When I get the urge I just buy a package out of the store, slice them up and throw them in the oven."

"You haven't eaten homemade cookies until you've had them from scratch. I'll bake cookies for you before I leave."

He tried to make light of it. "Is that a promise?" Her cookies would be fantastic, too.

She was so different from his usual dates. He'd been burned more that once by an attractive woman, except she wasn't coming on to him. Didn't react as if she wanted something from him. He'd seen his mother do that so many times he should be a pro at picking up the signs.

He lingered over dinner for as long as he could. It was still early and he didn't want the night to end so soon. But finally he paid the bill and took her back to the hotel.

He walked her to her room. "I enjoyed the evening."

"So did I."

"I know you're in a relationship and I don't want to step on any toes, but, I can't leave you without this."

He gently captured her chin in his hand, tilted her head and brushed his lips against hers. He only meant to give her a quick kiss. But she melted beneath him and when she opened her mouth he tasted the sweetness of her. He gathered her into his arms holding her tightly against him. The kiss went on much longer than he'd planned but he couldn't get enough of her. She was so remarkable. So much like home and forever. But this was wrong.

He finally lifted his head and slowly released her and put some distance between them. He brushed a thumb across her mouth. Her lips were full and looked thoroughly kissed.

"Good night, Lauren. It's been a wonderful evening." Before she could speak, he turned and left before he did something else outrageous. He couldn't see her again. He was beginning to want things he knew better than to desire.

He left the hotel, started the motor of his truck, and cracked the window to cool off. She had his blood singing.

He turned the music down low and drove the short drive toward his house. The phone rang when he was a block away.

He answered his cell.

It was Detective Payne. He asked him to come to the office.

Adam found a place to turn around and went to the detective's office.

"We suspect your friend might be right. Although it seems the killings were done by different people we're considering they could have been done by the same person," he said without preamble. "The girl and Mr. Olsson. I need the notes Mr. Olsson gathered on this guy." He straightened a paperweight on his desk. "We don't know if it is the same person he alluded to or even a man."

Chapter 5

Lauren was leaving soon and she wanted to tour a few places before she left. The next morning she visited the National Wildlife Refuge's Visitor's Center and the Aquarium on Roanoke Island. They were both interesting and educational. The Visitor's Center had mentioned a few places she would like to explore.

She then stopped at a seafood shack and had a delicious lunch. The owner actually went out to the dock for fresh catch each morning.

After returning to the hotel she took a walk on the beach. It was a little windy, but that was okay. She'd donned sweats and jogging shoes and a comfortable coat before she went outside.

Rain and high tides were predicted and she wanted to get her walk in before it all happened.

Lauren couldn't help thinking of Adam's kiss. She hadn't been kissed like that in many years. He'd wakened something she thought was dead. Young people probably thought women her age never thought about sex, but she did. She was still a woman and Adam stroked the intimate need within.

Her breasts tingled just at the thought of being in his arms. She should have resisted. She was a good woman and she never even considered cheating on her husband or in any relationship, but all her good sense disappeared when she was near him. She was acting more like twenty than a very sane fifty-five.

Even this time of year four-wheel-drives had made tracks in the hard-packed sand. The seagulls were flying overhead and the tides were whipping against the shoreline. In the distance a couple of people were out walking. It was peaceful here, she thought, with most of the tourists gone for the season. No wonder Adam loved it here this time of year.

Lauren walked for an hour before she started back to the hotel. She climbed a sand dune, slipping and sliding her way to the top. Finally stable, she dusted her hands off and glanced around from the higher elevation. Such a beautiful place. She would have missed it if her memories weren't hampered by Patrick's murder. She'd only known him a short time, but he'd left a mark. He must have made lifelong impressions on the people in his life. What an awful thing to happen.

Sighing she turned and slid halfway down the dune. Hands reached out to catch her. She started to offer thanks when her head was completely covered by something.

Heart pounding, she fought against the bondage. Strong hands grabbed hers and yanked them behind her. She grabbed for a breath and struggled against the hold. Whatever was over her head held her so tightly she couldn't scream loud enough to be heard over the waves. He held her hands in a tight grip. She tried to kick out, but he pushed her to the ground.

"I will make you suffer." A gravely voice sent chills through her body. She didn't recognize it.

Her hands were now completely secured and he started dragging her away.

"They'll never find you."

What was he talking about? Lauren tried to talk, but couldn't. Her arms hurt and he was terribly strong, bent on only one thing. Was this the end for her? Did he kill Patrick? Did he think she saw something that night? Who was he?

"Hey, you!"

The man holding her stopped short.

"What're you doing?"

Lauren felt movement.

"Help," the man yelled.

"Over there!" she heard though a tunnel. Was help actually coming?

Suddenly she was dropped and she heard retreating footsteps. She tried to sit up. Someone came toward her and yanked the bag off her face. She blinked. And she heard Adam's voice.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded.

"Untie her and stay with her. See if she's okay."

She felt hands tearing at the bindings on her wrists.

"Are you okay?" a rough voice said, but different from the one who'd tried to kidnap her.

She nodded, rubbing her wrists and eyes, adjusting to the light.

"Who was it?"

"I didn't see him? Did you get a good look?"

And then she looked into the man's face. It was the man who lived next door to Patrick, the one he was having arguments with.

"No."

* * *

The police had been called. They put the sack used to cover her head and the plastic bindings into evidence bags to determine if the same type of fibers had been used on other murders in the area.

She told him what the kidnapper had said.

"I don't understand why he chose me. If he's Patrick's murderer, I can't identify him."

Adam sighed and rubbed a hand over his head. "All of his victims had blond hair."

"Actually, their hair was dyed blond. They were all brunettes," the detective said.

"What?"

"We've narrowed it down. Some are younger, of course, but they all have brown hair, hazel eyes, long hair."

"My hair is died, too, but to my natural color. I color the gray."

Detective Payne scribbled something on his pad.

"And their facial features are similar." Adam said.

"Why didn't he kill me when he had a chance? If he killed Patrick at one that morning, he obviously stuck around." She breathed deeply. "Oh, my God. He could have been there all night watching me."

"He could have worked with an accomplice," the detective said, glancing at the next door neighbor who was hovering close by.

"If it hadn't been for him, the man would have taken me away."

The man had heard the conversation and was outraged. "You're trying to blame it on me now? That's the thanks I get for helping out?"

"I've very grateful," Lauren said. "I would probably be dead now if you hadn't intervened. Thank you."

"I'm outta here."

She looked at the officer and Adam in turn. "That man saved my life."

The men glanced at each other.

Finally Adam said, "You never know who your friends are."

* * *

Lauren called Howard's cell phone.

"Hello?"

Puzzled at hearing a woman's voice, Lauren thought she'd reached the wrong party. "May I speak to Howard, please?"

"Who's calling?" the voice asked.

"I'm a friend."

"As in girlfriend?" The chuckle was unnerving. "So old Howie is at it again. Listen up. Howard has me. He doesn't need you."

"Excuse me?" Lauren was stunned. Howard already had a girlfriend and he was trying to start a relationship with her?

"Don't call back or come near Howard again." The phone disconnected in her ear.

Stunned, Lauren hung up, too. All sorts of emotions ran through her. Yes, she was going to end it with Howard, but she came down here to visit him and he was already in a relationship. The no good lying...

No wonder he was so secretive. No wonder she couldn't reach him. And he kept his voice mail full so messages couldn't be left for his wife to hear.

And obviously this wasn't the first time it had happened. His poor wife had the disembodied voice of a woman who'd been through it before, probably several times. Those website providers should do a better job with ferreting out the cheats.

So by the time Howard called later that afternoon, Lauren was still simmering, but she didn't want any drama.

"No, Howard, I won't have dinner with you. I can tell you what I have to say right over the phone."

"What's wrong, Lauren? Did something else happen?"

His reasonable, calming tone set her teeth on edge. "Listen Howard, I think we both know this relationship can't work, so let's stop wasting our time."

"I think it's going just fine. We just haven't been able to see each other..."

"Cut the crap. I spoke to your girlfriend, or wife, or whoever she is."

"But..."

"Earlier, when I tried to reach you. She answered your cell phone. I always felt there were too many secrets surrounding you. Now, I know why. Everything worked out perfectly when you were on your trips to Virginia. It was convenient to have someone there for a little tryst. But when I came here, it all fell apart. That's why you didn't show up at the party. You were probably there with your wife. Please don't contact me again. I don't understand why you invited me here in the first place. It makes no sense. Why did you invite me here?"

"I didn't think you would come, but we need to talk about this."

Lauren couldn't believe it. She'd rushed through work to finish everything on time so that she could come down here and spend time with him and he thought she wouldn't come.

"Talk about what? Are you telling me this woman isn't in your life?" Lauren asked with deliberate calm she was far from feeling.

"Yes, but..."

"Then definitely there can't be anything between us. We have nothing to discuss. Goodbye and don't call me again." She disconnected and tossed the phone on the bed.

She scrubbed a hand across her face. This certainly didn't feel like Christmas.

Lauren started packing her bags. There was no reason for her to stay any longer.

She paused and glanced out the balcony door. She had a first-floor room that overlooked the outside pool. It was closed for the season, but decorations were strung around the fence.

There were a ton of things she needed to do. Starting with decorating her own house. She might even return to work early.

Disappointment crashed through her chest and expanded. She'd come to the Outer Banks with such high hopes. She chuckled. Maybe being in a rut wasn't so bad when the outcome was like this.

She was going home and perhaps spending Christmas in San Francisco wasn't such a bad idea.

* * *

Lauren was tossing her belongings in her suitcase when Adam knocked on her door. She let him in.

"Don't leave," he said.

"I can't stay. I should reach home by midnight."

"My offer's still open. Stay with me. I'll protect you."

"At home I won't need protection," she murmured.

Adam took her hair dryer out of her hand and placed it on the bed. "You don't know that. This could follow you wherever you go."

Lauren sighed and sat down heavily on the bed.

"Just for a few days until we find this creep."

Lauren didn't know what to do.

"At least think about it," Adam said.

Now, it was hours later and Lauren was having dinner with Adam at his house.

He was brooding. It was obvious he was having a hard time shaking the grief that had gripped him.

"Patrick was a great friend. I need to do something, to find the killer."

"What can you do that the police can't? They have access to more resources. It's their job."

"I'm going to stick close to you. That bastard isn't going to get anywhere near you without coming through me."

"I'm leaving."

"What about your friend?"

"I've already talked to him. It's over."

He looked at her, incredulous. "You broke up with the poor guy over the phone?"

"I didn't have a choice. There were so many things wrong in that relationship."

Dinner was bittersweet. Lauren would miss the opportunity to know Adam better. He was so unlike the men she occasionally dated, but he was intriguing.

They were both struggling through the meal.

Finally Lauren put her fork down. "You're tense."

Adams mouth was pressed tightly in a straight line. He needed to deal with his grief so that he could loosen up. Everything was bottled in. If he didn't let it go, he was going to explode like a powder keg. But Lauren didn't know how to approach him. She didn't know him that well. He was old enough that he had learned ways to deal with grief. But at least she had to try.

Lauren touched his arm. "You been so busy you haven't had time to grieve."

Adam glanced at her as if he didn't know what she was talking about.

She rubbed his arm. His muscles were knotted tightly. "You know, to deal with your feelings about this—about Patrick's death, other than anger, that is."

He sighed deeply. "Who has time to grieve when there's so much to do? I'm still going over Patrick's papers."

"It's not a matter of time, it's what you feel inside. That has to be dealt with."

"I don't grieve. Never had time for it."

"If you don't grieve, how do you feel emotions about anything or anyone?"

"Grief, wishing for things that aren't so, never did anybody any good. I deal with what is."

Lauren was beginning to have feelings for Adam, but he was the worst kind to fall for. He was a hard man. She wanted a little tenderness and warmth in her life, not an emotionless pit. She wanted some of what she'd shared with her husband.

She'd started to search on line looking for that elusive element that had been missing from her life. Maybe what she'd shared with her husband would have been enough had he lived long enough. But their time together had been way too short.

In the beginning she'd worked through a haze of misery and grief trying to maintain some kind of normal life for their son. Later, things got so busy she didn't have time for extra emotions. But Josh was married and on his own.

She might be in her mid fifties, but she was a woman and she still had cravings. She wanted the man who she went to bed with to feel something for her—something more than a toss in the hay to satisfy a passing urge.

Maybe she was asking for too much. But there was something about Adam...

"I'm sorry that life has scarred you so much that you can't enjoy the range of emotions that makes it all worth while," she finally said.

"I have a beautiful daughter and a granddaughter and they mean the world to me. If they're okay, I'm okay."

Lauren nodded. "Whether you admit it or not, you loved Patrick. Men love their fathers, whether he's a father by blood or by actions. And Patrick played that role for you. And I'm sorry he died a violent death." Lauren wiped her mouth and placed her napkin on the table. "I'll get the dishes. I'm leaving tomorrow. I've imposed on you long enough. Besides, I have to get back to work soon. Thanks for the hospitality."

Lauren didn't expect Adam to stop her as she walked away and he didn't. She was disappointed. She'd hoped he had some glimmer of feelings for her.

He left the room and after she cleared the dishes she went to her room.

Chapter 6

When he went to his office Adam was suffering a deep abiding loss. As if something vital had escaped him before he had an opportunity to appreciate it. But he didn't have time to dwell on Lauren. She was a passing flame in his life. More than likely after tomorrow he'd never set eyes on her again.

For some reason he felt even worse at the prospect. But he had his daughter and his granddaughter. And his daughter was married to a man who was good for her as well as to her.

So if his daughter and granddaughter had a great man in their lives, why did they need Daddy around?

To make sure nothing happened that shouldn't, he assured himself. He'd retired to his office to look over Patrick's notes again. He'd been there an hour before the phone rang. Absently he picked it up.

"Hey, Dad." Amanda sounded cheerful. It was just the thing to lift his sour mood.

"Hi, sweetheart."

"I called to invite you and Lauren to dinner tomorrow night."

"I don't know...I have to finish closing the store for the season. There's still lots to be done."

"You can do that anytime," she said, brushing his excuses aside. "Those things aren't going anywhere. Please, Dad. I liked her and I think you like her, too," she entreated. "It's time you had someone for yourself. I want you to be as happy as I am and as happy as Mom. It's not healthy for you to be alone the way you are."

"I'm not alone," Adam assured her. It was his job to worry about her, not the other way around. He could take care of himself. Always had. "I'm okay with my own company. Besides, you and the little tot keep me pretty busy."

"Dad, if you were ninety I'd buy that, but you're still young enough for romance."

"Romance?"

"You still have some life in you."

"Well, thank you very much," he said sarcastically. What did she think, that he was nearing forty?

"I'm just saying don't let the good years pass you by. I felt the vibes between you and Lauren."

"Lauren's leaving town."

Silence greeted him.

"Soon," he added just in case she didn't get the message. "You forgot she doesn't live here."

"You still have a house in Fairfax, so that's no excuse." She sighed heavily. "I know your life has been hard. I know it's hard for you to trust people. But Dad, you need more. Life is so much fuller when you can share it with someone. I can't be everything you need—especially the woman in your life."

"I don't expect you to be."

"Dad..."

"So now you're not only my analyst, but you're my matchmaker, too. I can find my own woman."

"But you choose women who will last only for a week or two and you know what I mean."

Adam felt himself blushing. Daughters weren't supposed to know things like that about their dads.

"They aren't keepers. They don't have real feelings for you and you don't have any for them. You probably pick them up at the local bars."

Adam stifled a moan. "Okay, you're taking it a bit far. Nice women go to bars. It's a place to meet and greet. Besides, how do you know who I date? I don't bring them by your place for inspection."

She scoffed. "This is a small town. You don't think the word has spread? And I'm not exaggerating. The women you usually date have nothing in common with you."

"Neither do Lauren and I," he said quietly, knowing he was lying.

"Lauren's the first real woman you've been with. Have you at least taken her to see some of the sights?"

Adam felt embarrassed that he hadn't.

"Daddy, Christmas is coming and you're going to be alone."

"I'll be with you like every Christmas."

"It's not enough," she said quietly.

"To know that you and my grandbaby are safe and happy. It's more than enough."

"But there's so much more. You deserve more, Dad. You're a good man. If you don't feel anything for Lauren, then let her go and I won't say another word. But if you do feel something for her, then convince her to stay. Let yourself be free enough to trust. I don't think you'll regret it."

"Okay Miss Know-It-All, I thought I paid for your business and marketing degree, not a psychology degree."

"It doesn't take a psychologist to figure you out. I had your number by the time I was six."

Adam shook his head. "Did you now?"

"Of course. I could always wrap you around my pinkie."

And the sad thing was, she was telling the truth.

"I couldn't very well tell you back then, could I? Bring Lauren to dinner tomorrow night. Around six. I expect to see you then." She hung up as if she were issuing a command that he would obey. He had been in the Army. _He_ issued orders, not his daughter who barely knew anything about life.

Lauren was pretty pissed at him. Would she stay longer? Would she go to dinner with him? The sixty-four thousand dollar question was, did he want her to?

It didn't take a genius to answer that question. He'd had the hots for her from the moment she entered the store. Now he had to convince her to stay.

* * *

Lauren had changed her mind a thousand times about staying with Adam. She had to consider that his goal was to find Patrick's killer, not necessarily to be with her. But would Patrick have told her she could trust Adam if she couldn't? At the time she thought he meant trust with her heart, not physically. But could she trust him with her heart?

Lauren started tossing things into her suitcase. There was so much that lay between them, but what could she do? She was leaving and it felt like she was leaving part of her heart behind. They didn't really know each other, but it only took a few moments in the shop the day she arrived for her to realize that there was a spark between Adam and her even if she wasn't willing to admit it.

It seemed all the good ones were taken or unavailable. She could live without a man. She had many friends, but there was that indelible ache that made her desire more, more than was available. She was no different than millions of other single women.

Okay, she'd suffered the pity party long enough. She'd never let her life revolve around a man. There were always meaningful things in her life. In San Francisco she'd find things to do, take tours so she wouldn't feel like the fifth wheel.

You didn't grow unless you were willing to expand out of your comfort zone. Adam had made her think about things she'd long forgotten, like the dream of skydiving. She could do that from home. And she was going to plan her winter trip to Yellowstone. She'd always wanted to ride on a snowmobile to see the wilds of the parks in winter.

Okay, no reason to go really crazy. She'd start with a summer trip to Yellowstone. See if a couple of her friends would like to go, as well. Then try the snowmobile thing another time. Small steps.

But she had to leave this area. It just wasn't safe.

But was home any safer? Would the police there do anything?

* * *

Adam stood at the door several seconds before he worked up the nerve to knock. He was more nervous now than he'd been in battle. Things were decisive there. He knew his role. Here, working around a woman's mind, dealing with emotions and uncertainty was like navigating a minefield.

But truth be told, he liked Lauren more than a lot. And he didn't want her to return to Virginia where she had no protection.

Okay maybe the protection was an excuse. Trouble might not necessarily follow her home, but he couldn't take that chance.

He rapped his knuckled against the door. "May I come in?"

He waited as he heard Lauren's footsteps cross the wooden floor and open the door.

"Sure."

He noticed the open suitcase on the bed.

She wore a sexy gown. Everything was covered, but it hugged her curves. The tiny robe did little to curtail his imagination.

"I'm a man who knows his way around a battle. Navigating relationships is foreign to me. So maybe I don't show the way I feel as easily as some people. Yes, I have feelings, but I'm not ready to talk about it. I'm not ready for you to pick my brain apart."

"Look, I know I stepped over the line. It was none of my business."

"It's okay to care, Lauren. I'm touched that you do."

She looked at him then, at a loss for words.

"But I feel something for you, too. I felt it the first time you walked into the shop looking for a costume. I still think you'd look great as Cat Woman," he told her with a lopsided grin.

Slightly embarrassed, Lauren chuckled.

He came two steps closer and reached up to touch her face. "This is special. I want to explore where it takes us."

He kissed her lightly on the lips, sending a heat wave through her.

"Besides," he said with a crooked smile. "If you don't stay around and fix me, I might be uninformed for the rest of my life."

"We can't have that now, can we?"

"Definitely not," he said, grasping her gently around the waist. Pulling her tightly against him, he kissed her deeply. "You smell so good," he said, brushing her mouth again.

He trailed a line of kisses down her neck toward the V between her breasts. She was so soft.

He caressed her arms, sliding his hand around her back to press her closer and feel the softness of her skin. Okay, he was just going to taste her, just a little, he promised himself, but she was so intoxicating. And she didn't stop him.

He slid the straps of her gown down her arms and followed the path of her heavy breasts. She gasped when he sucked on her nipple.

He felt her fingers clutching his shoulders before they began to caress him, urging him to delve deeper into the secrets of her body. He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and positioned her in the center. One of her breasts flowed from the gown.

"You are absolutely beautiful," he said. Sliding the suitcase to the floor, he laid beside her to kiss her again. He slid the gown down her body, kissing her as he went.

"I didn't come here to do this, but to apologize." He started to move away, but Lauren stopped him.

"Apology accepted," she said, bringing him back to her. "Now kiss me."

He caressed her face with the back of his hand. Then he brushed a light kiss across her mouth, teasing her, nibbling at the sides. At her groan, he tasted her completely, bringing the kiss deep and potent.

He shifted to the side and glided his hands down her shoulders and her soft arms.

He felt her soft hands on his back and shoulders, stirring his desire to a fever pitch. He groaned as he gazed at her breasts before he bent his head and suckled on her.

Her moans of pleasure drove him out of his mind.

"You like that, babe?"

"Yes," she more breathed than spoke.

Lauren shifted when his hands moved between her thighs. Her hips rotated to get closer to his touch. She was so hot she thought she was going to explode.

This man knew how to love a woman, she thought as he glided his hands inside her panties and touched her just right.

He was suckling her breasts and massaging her clitoris at the same time and it had been a while. Lauren was shocked that the orgasm hit so fast and hard. She screamed out at the intensity of her feelings. Every muscle in her body contracted as he held her tightly in his arms.

Minutes later, he was caressing her softly.

"Ready for more?" he asked.

"Bring it on," she said, softly. "The condoms are in my purse."

He rooted around for her purse. She spilled half the contents searching for the condom. She got it.

"I'm going to let you do the honors," he said, his voice strained with need.

And it was an honor indeed. His erection was full and substantial. She caressed him as she glided it on. He strained against her hand and squeezed her breasts gently, rubbed her hips, making her hot all over again.

And then he guided her on him. It had been so long that the fit was very tight. And then she sank completely on him. With his hands on her hips he filled her completely and they began to move. Desire increased until she melted into another orgasm. His followed closely behind. Winded, she fell on his chest and they lay there together breathing hard.

Chapter 7

For a moment when Lauren awakened the next morning, she was alarmed by the unusual person in the bed with her. She looked sideways and exhaled slowly.

Adam was sprawled out on his stomach, one arm anchoring her and the other resting on his pillow. It had been many years since a man had slept beside her.

"Ummm," Adam groaned. "You're supposed to sleep in after a late night."

"This is late for me. It's eight already. Day's wasting."

He smiled that wicked grin and turned over, showing his amazing chest when he clasped his hands behind his head. "I'm an early riser, too, but sleeping late is a luxury since I retired. Do you think I can tempt you to stay in bed longer?"

"You can try." He wouldn't have to try very hard, Lauren thought when he reached over and touched her. Her body responded immediately. It remembered the pleasure from the night before.

She discovered Adam wasn't a lazy lover at all. He took his time this morning just like the evening before. He touched her, waking every nerve ending. Her body vibrated with need as he expertly ran his hands over her, then his mouth. His tongue left wet traces as he glided it along her sensitive skin.

Her body craved his touch, nearly begged for it until he was donning a condom again and sank deeply into her. She was a little tender after his amazing performance the night before, but not too tender to enjoy the delights to be held in his arms. She closed her legs tightly around him, straining to feel him deeper. She wanted ever vestige of sensation from him as they rocked to a beat as old as time.

And then it came again. She cried out with the orgasm that rocked her world into a region she'd only known in Adam's arms.

* * *

An hour later they were luxuriating in the aftermath of Adam's amazing skill of convincing Lauren to play lazy and sleep late.

They stood in the kitchen preparing breakfast. He brushed her arms and goose bumps of memory sizzled through her. She cleared her throat. "What should we take to your daughter as a hostess gift?"

He shrugged his amazing shoulders. "I don't think she expects anything."

"Why don't you call her and find out if she'd like us to bring a dish so all the work won't be on her. She is a new mother, after all."

He called, and as he'd said, she had the bases covered. "She just wants us to have fun," Adam said after he hung up. "So what do you want to do?"

"I'd planned to tour the area. Maybe take a Four-Wheel-Drive tour." She talked about the tours she took the day before and some of the other places she wanted to go.

"I thought you were going to leave."

"I made the plans before I was attacked. I was going to be careful. No walks on the beach. I was taking escorted tours so I wouldn't be alone. I'm not crazy. Besides I don't fit the serial killer profile. After the attack I'd planned to leave." She looked at him. "And then someone convinced me to stay."

"Honey, don't take chances with your life. It might not be the same killer as the one who murdered the women. You have to assume it was connected to Patrick. There aren't that many murders in this area."

"I'm very aware of that. I'll never forget it." She noticed he still wouldn't broach the subject of Patrick on a personal level.

"So we'll pack a lunch and drive the Four-Wheel-Drive and have lunch by the ocean. It's going to be in the sixties today, not too bad. If we're lucky we'll even see some horses. They're accustomed to people so don't be surprised if one walks up on you or sticks his head in the car if the window's open."

"I'd love that."

"The people who live there find it a nuisance. And baby, I'm glad you decided to stay."

They soon left and picked up a baguette and cheese with some sandwich meat and fruit and started on their journey.

"You're going French on me," Adam said.

"Are you okay with the selections?"

"I don't much care what we eat."

They drove for miles down Ocean Trail through Corolla. Huge houses stood on each side of the two-lane road.

"Most of these houses are rented out by the week," Adam said.

"Locals don't live here at all?"

"Very few. Besides, they don't think it's prudent to live on the ocean side. Which is why I brought my house on the sound side. If a bad storm or hurricane comes in, you can't get back to your house on the ocean side. I have a boat and I can get back after bad storms to start repairs." They passed the lighthouse.

"We'll stop at the lighthouse on our way back," he said. "They have a little tourist shop."

They came to the end of the paved road and turned right onto the sand-packed road that ran beside the ocean. It was odd traveling a road at the very edge of the ocean.

"Years ago, you could go from here to Virginia Beach on this road. Now there are gates to prevent drivers from doing that."

"How many gates are there?"

"Well, there's one at the Virginia border and at least one in North Carolina. Might be two. Years ago they gave out keys to the gates, but not any longer unless you're a tour company. Only a few families still have keys now."

Lauren saw houses set back among the tall sand dunes and a few that seemed to be too close to the ocean.

"This is the eastern most house," he said, pointing ahead. "A lot of them have been washed out to sea, but this one is still standing."

"What about in back? Are they all homes for rent, too?"

"The ones we're passing now are rented out, but further down people actually live in some of them. You have to have a four-wheel-drive to travel back here, though. Hold on. I think I see a horse over there."

Turning a sharp left, he drove off the road, crossed a sand dune where the sand had been packed by vehicles. There were several houses scattered about, but they weren't close like the ones where he lived. He drove up and over a dune.

Lauren grew concerned. She was accustomed to nice paved roads and smooth driving, not bumping up and down on a dirt track. "Are you sure this is safe?"

Adam had a smile on his face, looking more relaxed than she'd ever seen him. And he was looking like he was having too much fun. Big boys and their toys. No matter how old they were, men were still boys at heart.

Lauren smiled, glad that he was enjoying himself. He needed to smile more often, she thought just as they nearly skipped over a dune and splashed into a puddle of water. There was at least a hundred yards of water to tread through.

Alarmed, Lauren glanced at him. She was wearing sneakers. "We're going to get stuck."

"We're fine," he assured her.

"If we get stuck, you're carrying me out of here. I'm not getting my feet wet."

"Gladly," he said with a gleam in his eyes. "You're a nice armful."

Yeah, right.

"Look over there. There's a horse near the house."

Sure enough there was a pretty brown and white mare munching on sea grass. She was so engrossed in the scenery that the next thing she knew they were climbing from the puddle.

"They have roads back here," Lauren noticed.

"And they have names just like the paved roads."

"I don't see signs."

"Locals know."

"But they don't even follow a straight line. It's difficult to tell one from the other."

"It's difficult for you. You don't live here. These people drive these roads every day. They grew up around here. They know. Besides, it's a playground for men."

"Sexist. I bet it's a playground for local women, too." Lauren chuckled because Adam wasn't the only one who was playing out here. She saw another jeep where the driver was having his share of fun.

"Although you didn't grow up here, you seem to know it well."

"I got the lay of the land shortly after I moved here."

He spoke as if he was in enemy territory scouting out the area. There was a watchfulness about him, as if he were constantly on the lookout.

Lauren shook her head. "We're at peace here, you know."

"You can never tell."

You can take the man out of the Army, but you can't take the Army out of him, Lauren thought. He must be a great father and grandfather, but hard on his son-in-law.

"So how did you end up here?" Lauren wanted to know.

"I came after my daughter moved here."

"Figures," she mumbled. No wonder his daughter invited her to dinner. She needed someone to take Daddy off her hands.

"What was that?"

Lauren shook her head. "You need a life."

"I have a life. A good one." He grinned over at her. "You found out how alive I was last night."

Lauren blushed again. "What're you fishing for?"

He shook his head, but slowly ran his eyes over her. Lauren turned hot as tendrils of desire surged through her. He was a fantastic lover. She couldn't remember ever being loved like that. Of course it had been a long time since she'd been to bed with a man, years even.

He was kind of cute though, the way he tried to protect his little kingdom. Was there room for a woman? Was he so wrapped up in his child that he couldn't allow room for more? And was she up for all that?

She was ready to relax. Not for a lot of family drama. And she wasn't going to compete for space with his daughter, especially if he was unwilling to allow another female into his life. Other than his granddaughter, that is.

He captured her hand and kissed the back of it. Lauren was warmed. She could get used to this.

After he finished playing in the dunes and driving beside the ocean, they found a spot to have lunch. He pulled the truck out of the line of traffic and unpacked their lunch.

It was cool, but bracing by the ocean. There was a sense of peace watching the waves crash against the shore. The truck was parked in the dunes, far enough away that the waves wouldn't reach it. They walked toward the ocean and began to eat their lunch while enjoying the view and seabirds. The food was surprisingly good. After they ate, they walked along the shore. Even in late fall, the walk was stimulating. It felt good against her skin to get out and exercise with someone for a change.

Adam scooped up a handful of sea water and splashed it on her. It was so surprising it startled her.

"You scamp." She ran to get her own handful, but he was peppering her with water by then. She was no match, but she got in the game and got some to splash him, too.

They were both laughing hard by the time they made it to the truck.

Lauren was shivering a little and Adam quickly got the heat going.

Adam put the truck in gear. He tapped her nose. "Hey, you're kind of fun, you know that?"

"So are you, but I always suspected that. Let's stop by the store and get some flowers for your daughter. A new mother deserves lots and lots of flowers."

He smiled.

The way to get to his heart was definitely through his daughter. If daughter didn't approve, he certainly wouldn't approve. But she didn't plan to marry him, just have a little fun while she was here.

As they pulled away, Lauren noticed a beat-up black jeep nearly hidden behind one of the dunes. The driver was watching them.

"Adam, the guy over there is watching us."

Adam glanced toward the jeep. "I've been watching him. He's just talking on his cell phone. A few minutes ago, I saw him talking to the park police." He pulled off, crossed a dune, and started down the long drive along the tracks by the ocean. Lauren glanced out of the rearview mirror to see if they were being followed. The jeep wasn't behind them, but she still had an uneasy feeling.

Chapter 8

Lauren dressed carefully for dinner. She'd picked out some beautiful flowers and a necklace for his daughter when they went to a strip mall. A woman needed to feel like more than a mother at a time like this, even though the baby was front and center in her life.

Amanda and her husband lived about five miles from Adam in a beautiful two-story house with an attached garage. Her house was more inland, not on the water.

Her husband, Lance, answered the door.

"Welcome, it's so nice to meet you." His smile seemed exceptionally bright.

"Where's my baby," Adam said before he barely got in the door.

"Daddy," Amanda said, going into his arms. Then she glanced at Lauren. "It's so nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"This is Lauren," Adam said.

"Thank you for inviting us," Lauren said. "You have a lovely home. And the food smells fabulous." Amanda was beautiful and more delicate, but there was strength there, too. Her hair was dark and her eyes were hazel. Lance was an inch shorter than Adam with black hair. He was quite handsome and it was apparent he loved Amanda.

"I'm glad you could come," Amanda was saying.

Adam had wanted to take the gifts, but Lauren wouldn't let him.

"Here's something for the new mother." Lauren handed her the flowers and the wrapped box.

Adam looked surprised at the box.

"The flowers are lovely." She smelled the roses before her husband took them and she opened the box containing the necklace. "Oh, this is beautiful. You didn't have to."

"I couldn't resist." Lauren had always wanted a daughter to spoil with gifts. Now she had a daughter-in-law. Of course she could spoil Amanda, too.

Just then the baby cried and Amanda's husband went to get her. A minute or so later he came back rocking her gently.

"Oh, there's Papa's baby," Adam said, immediately plucking her out of her father's arms.

The guy looked crestfallen. He obviously wanted to hold his little girl for a while, but Granddaddy took over.

"Isn't she the most precious thing?" he asked Lauren.

"She certainly is. May I help you with anything?" she asked Amanda.

"Just sit and enjoy. Lance will help now that Daddy has the baby."

They followed the couple into the kitchen-family room area and sat down. Lauren took the baby. She was so precious with tiny hands and feet. An odd feeling came over her. Adam could be forgiven for acting the fool. Babies brought it out in you, especially grandchildren.

But during the meal she observed how Adam took over. He was so overbearing that poor Lance took a back seat in his own home.

Adam was holding the baby in one arm while he ate. Afterwards they talked at the table. They were an interesting couple.

"Dinner was delicious," Lauren said. "Adam and I will get the dishes while you two rest and spend time with the baby."

Lance gave her a grateful look before Adam said, "They got plenty of time to spend with the baby."

"Hand the baby to Lance," Lauren ordered. "You're helping."

He gave her "The Look," but reluctantly handed the baby over.

Everyone helped with clearing the table, but Lauren urged the new parents out of the kitchen.

She was able to keep Adam with her long enough to stack the dishwasher, but he left soon after.

Amanda approached her. "You're so good with my dad."

Lauren glanced over at him holding the baby again. Lance was flipping through the channels on the flat screen. "You think so?"

"You're the only one he's taken a real interest in. He can be a bit..."

"Overbearing, intrusive."

"I love him, but Lance is half frightened of him. He kind of..."

"Gets in the way?"

"I think he's afraid I won't have a perfect life. But he can't give me that because life isn't perfect. My husband is a good man. Could you consider taking my dad back to Virginia with you?"

Lauren laughed. "Honey, you don't understand. I don't have any control over him. He isn't going to leave you long enough even to take a vacation to Virginia. And quite frankly, I don't have the strength for the fight that will ensue." Even though she wouldn't say it, it wasn't any of her business. This was a family matter where she didn't belong.

"You don't understand. Until you came, he was here every single day," she whispered. "And most of the evening. My husband and I don't have any time together."

"Why don't you tell him how you feel?" Lauren suggested.

"Are you kidding? I don't want to hurt his feelings." She sighed deeply. "He needs a life. He's a man you know, and a warrior? He needs to be needed, to slay dragons for someone, only he's pushed my dragon-slayer aside."

Lauren smiled and glanced at Adam. "You're pretty smart, you know."

"Not smart enough to deal with my knights."

Lauren finished wiping down the table and put the dishcloth up.

"I know I'm asking a lot. If you don't feel anything special for my father, then I don't want you in his life. But if you feel anything?" she asked hopefully. "He's got all this love bottled up inside with nowhere to put it except on me."

Lauren could identify with that. She had so many needs bottled up inside and nowhere to go with it. But that wasn't reason enough to settle. Settling with the wrong man could make you absolutely miserable.

"Do you like him at all?" Amanda asked.

Lauren blushed. _Like him_. Like was a calm word for what she felt. But she didn't quite want to admit to liking someone who might be unable to return her feelings. She knew they were terrific in bed together, but a sustaining relationship was so much more than what happened between the sheets.

And then again, she didn't want a whole lot of crap at her age. She wanted a restful relationship. Something that flowed easier than with a man like Adam. But she couldn't tell his daughter that. And she couldn't give her false hope. "It might not be enough."

"It's a start. And it's worth exploring."

Usually daughters wanted to keep their fathers away from wicked women. Lauren liked Amanda. She liked her insightfulness and how much she cared for and catered to her father when so many children brushed their parents aside.

"It's taking you'all a long time on those dishes," Adam said.

"We're almost done," his daughter responded and glanced back at Lauren when Adam's attention was elsewhere. "I know you think he's too much trouble, but he's never had a woman who loved him the way he should have been loved. He's never had anyone go to bat for him." She was quiet a second, contemplating how much to reveal. "He married my mother because she was pregnant and he wanted to give me his name and make sure I had the protection I needed in case something happened to him. He married her just before he shipped out to war. He sent the majority of his pay to her.

"While he was away she realized she was still in love with her high school sweetheart. They tried to make it work for a while, but eventually, she asked for a divorce and he gave it to her. She didn't love him. And I don't think he really loved her either. I think his expectations are too low when it comes to women, starting with his mother who never went to bat for him. He never expected it to work out. But he made sure that I was okay. He was always in my life," Amanda said, glancing over at her dad lovingly. "He's been the best father to me, but I'm an adult now. I want him to know what it feels like to be loved. I want him with a woman who's willing to fight for him, who he's willing to fight for. And it won't come easily, but if he loves you, it's with his whole heart and being."

"Hey, I think little tot needs her night feeding," Adam said, coming in. "Somebody's ready for bed."

" _He_ needs to be taken home to bed," Amanda whispered.

Lauren blushed again. "You have a beautiful baby and a wonderful family. You must feel safe in this gated community."

"Lance and I picked out the house, but Dad chose the community. Nothing but the best for his girls."

Lauren shook her head. "I should have known."

* * *

It was quiet on their way back to Adam's house. "So what did you two talk about?"

Lauren shrugged before she realized Adam couldn't see her in the dim light of the car.

"Just chit-chat."

"She's concerned about me." It was a statement, not a question.

"She's your daughter. She loves you."

"I know that."

_He's a warrior_ , Amanda had said. Was that the attraction he felt toward her? That she needed him. So what would happen when the murderer was caught? Would he move on?

"It's a tough world out here. Is it so bad that I want to make it a little easier for her?"

"Have you considered what she wants?" Lauren asked.

She was so engrossed in her musings she was startled when she felt his hand on hers. He clasped it and moved it to his thigh.

"I'm not mixed up the way she thinks I am. If I was, I'd take myself off to jail right now. I know I spend too much time there, but it's just I'm so fascinated about my new granddaughter. I was away at war when Amanda was born. I didn't get to see her as a baby. It's just...so magical. The baby is. But I know I have to lay off a little."

Lauren's heart went out to him. "Amanda just wants you to be happy."

"I am."

When they got to his house Lauren went into her room and Adam his.

He wanted to spend the night with her again, but he didn't want her to get the idea sex was all he wanted from her. She was so much more to him. Even now, he didn't understand why he'd come unglued when she started talking about Patrick and his emotions. She was butting in where she didn't belong. But then, so had he where she was concerned.

Sighing deeply, Adam showered and dressed for bed. It was pretty cold, so he made hot toddies. As he waited for the mixture to warm, his eyes settled on the fireplace. Women liked fireplaces. As a boy he thought of them as hard work having to chop wood and tote it in every blasted day during the winter to make sure the house was warm enough not to freeze his hind end. But women thought it was romantic, which was the reason he was pretty glad the thing was lit by gas. He pushed the button and voila, a cozy fire flamed to life.

It was Christmas and he should have some decorations somewhere. Amanda had packed a box of stuff in his garage and Lance had dragged in a tree that Adam had never unpacked when he first moved into the place. But he never used them. He'd always thought about Amanda's place as a home, and his as a place to sleep and store his belongings.

But this was his home, not just a short stop until his next assignment. He looked at it from Lauren's perspective. Women liked pretty and festive.

Suddenly his place looked austere, not like a home for the holidays should look at all. Not a tree, no decorations. Never saw the need. He always enjoyed his daughter's trees. His mom never decorated, so it never meant much to him. Although as a child he'd wanted the festive occasion other children had enjoyed, as life roared past, he'd forgotten about it altogether.

His place was clean. He didn't like for his place to be a pigsty. He hired a cleaning service to hit the place every two weeks to destroy the cobwebs and lint under the beds. But little touches were the differences between having a home and just a place to lay your head. He wanted his place to look like a home.

He had a beautiful woman in his spare bedroom. One that he felt a lot for. She'd want more than the bare essentials. The extra touches a woman made to a house made all the difference in the world. It was nice washing dishes with her or cooking with her. Instead of being just another chore, it was an experience.

He donned warm clothing and trotted out to the garage to drag in the tree and box of decorations. It took a few minutes to get the tree put together, but it was pretty simple.

The fire was warm and inviting. Lauren would love this, and truthfully, he did, too.

He set the toddies on the table in front of the fire and strolled down the hallway to her room.

He knocked on her door and waited for her to open it.

"Will you join me in the living room?"

"Of course."

Even though he'd seen every inch of her body and certainly had touched her smooth skin, she'd dragged on the prim robe over her nightgown. Before the night was over, he planned to divest her of that little garment, again. He looked forward to it.

"I made hot toddies."

He walked behind her, but she stopped at the entrance to the great room. "You have a tree?" she said, smiling back at him.

"It was tucked away in the garage." It was amazing how something so small could give such pleasure.

They got to work unpacking the decorations and decorating the tree.

"Too bad Amanda didn't throw in a few pink flamingos."

Lauren frowned. "You aren't serious."

"Why not?"

"I just thought you were being your combative self."

"I only fight when I need to."

"Don't you think the tree looks better with traditional bulbs?"

"I don't know. The only thing I can see is you."

Nobody had ever spoken to Lauren like that, as if she were some hot babe. She knew she wasn't, but he made her feel hot and sexy, and womanly.

"This isn't Florida."

"Still, it's the beach."

"She included a few ornaments made out of sea shells."

"Something to be grateful for," Adam said around a smile as she handed him another ornament and he deliberately placed it in the wrong place.

"You're doing it all wrong." Her nightgown was short and when she climbed the ladder and reached up, the gown climbed up her thighs. Of course he was more than willing to assist her on the ladder.

"I'll just let you do it. I won't let you fall," he said as she gave him an exasperated look and climbed the ladder herself like a pro.

"Looks like you know your way around a ladder."

"I'm a single woman. Of course I do."

When they finished, Adam turned the lights out and they both stood back and admired it. The room was festive. He reheated the hot toddies and they sat before the fire, with Lauren leaning in his arm. The heat from the fireplace made the room warm and cozy.

That was it, Adam thought. The place finally felt like a home. Women did amazing things to a house.

"One more thing," Lauren said, going to the kitchen. She started gathering ingredients.

Puzzled, Adam said, "You're cooking now?"

"It's still early. Watch your game. I won't be long."

Twenty minutes later, Adam smelled...cookies? Forgetting the game he went over to Lauren. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It is." She was washing a bowl.

"How long?"

"Just a few minutes."

Adam could hardly wait. He waited about two minutes after they came out of the oven before he snatched one, nearly burning himself. But it was delicious. Oh, God, were they delicious. Not like the store-brought ones.

Lauren put a few on a plate and set them before the fire.

He'd eaten three before he settled down. The cookies might seem a small thing, but nobody ever baked him cookies before.

"I'm glad you're here." Adam had merely thought and felt the words. He hadn't intended to say them, but it was the truth.

"I'm glad I'm here, too."

"I don't want you to go to San Francisco for Christmas. Spend it with me?"

She hesitated a moment before she nodded. "I hadn't planned to go to San Francisco. I was going home."

_Home could be here_ , popped into Adam's mind but he wouldn't say it. He merely tipped her chin and brushed his mouth over hers. She tasted sweet and welcoming.

"I hadn't planned to make love to you tonight. I don't want you to think that's all this is about."

"I want you, too," she said softly, lifting her hand to rub his chest.

Adam groaned deeply. The feel of her hands on him sent his system into overdrive. He'd been thinking about how well they fit together. It was the reason he'd fixed the hot toddies. He needed an excuse to be with her, any reason would do.

But when a couple fit as perfectly as he fit with Lauren, no excuses were needed. Just the joy they derived from being together and it was so much more than sex. The sex just heightened the intense feelings that were already there.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he asked. He didn't think anyone told her that very often. He wouldn't make that mistake.

"Now, who's telling fairy tales? Nothing on me is as firm as it once was. But I'm glad you think so."

He glanced at her, a serious expression on his face. "Nothing on me is the same either."

She felt the corded muscles in his arms, had felt the strength of his thighs. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him. "You're joking, right? My breasts went south a while ago. They no longer stand to attention, either."

"They're soft, and I still love 'em, babe. You've got serious self-image problems, but I'm going to work on changing that." He stroked her neck. "You are very beautiful and your body is amazing. I'm thinking no one ever told you that enough, so let me be the one."

She blushed prettily. "I know one thing for certain. You make me feel amazing."

"The sentiments are mutual, madam." Then he kissed her deeply, delving his tongue into her mouth and tasting the toddy.

Lauren's body sizzled with desire as he touched her, brushing the skimpy strap off her shoulders and caressing her, slowly making his way to her breast. Her heart nearly stopped when he was no more than an inch away. She was eager for his touch.

And then his thumb brushed her nipple through her thin bra. His fingers inched beneath to stroke her naked skin and she thought she would explode with need.

Her body trembled, and he was relentless in dishing out pleasure. She strained against his touch. She luxuriated in touching his arms, back, thighs. She stroked him privately.

"Talk to me, baby. Tell me what pleasures you most."

"Everything you do pleases me."

"But I want you to tell me."

She was ready for him, now. She didn't want to talk, didn't want him to stop. But he did stop.

"Tell me," he whispered. "I'm going to touch you only where you guide me."

Desperate for his touch, she guided him and he followed. He insisted she lead him, and she did. And by the time he entered her, she was a mass of need and pleasure. She strained against him, needing him with every breath she took. This was so new, so different. She couldn't hold back. She came and came and came. And he was close behind.

When they finished, they could only lie there, before the roaring fire and the twinkling lights on the tree, winded and completely sated.

Chapter 9

Christmas was in two days and Lauren was surprised she was still in North Carolina with Adam—and actually enjoying herself. Was actually going to spend Christmas on the beach with him.

"I have a surprise for you," Adam said the next morning. "The weather is perfect for it."

"What?"

"Dress warmly. Wear sweats if you have them."

She was really curious now.

"I'm going to run out to pick up something. Be ready when I get back. I'm going to lock the door behind me and don't eat much," he warned just before the door closed and she heard the garage door open and close as the car backed out.

Shaking her head, Lauren headed to the shower. She'd like to linger but she didn't know how long he'd be, so she made quick work of it, thinking of how they'd made love before the fire. It was going to be tough going home. Who would have thought it would turn out this way? She'd come to the Outer Banks to secure a relationship with one man and met another.

Wasn't life something? It could certainly change on a dime.

She donned the sexy underwear she'd brought with her, then her thermal underwear, before she pulled on sweats and warm sneakers.

The phone rang. "I'm almost there. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready."

"Good. See you in two shakes, babe."

Lauren applied a light spray of her perfume, grabbed her jacket, and was heading to the living room when she heard him come inside.

Funny, she didn't hear the car. He probably parked outside, but she still should have heard it. She shrugged. She was thinking of Adam so much, it's no wonder she was walking around in a daze.

As she rounded the corner she came face to face with a stranger, hat pulled low over his eyes. He was about five-eight and wore a windbreaker over jeans and sneakers.

Lauren stopped short. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I came for you." The unusually gravelly voice was eerie and grating.

"Me?" She started backing up, but there was no escape behind her. She turned to run anyway.

Before she could get away, the man caught her and slapped her hard. "You're nothing but a whore, just like the rest of them."

"What are you talking about?" Panic flooded her brain.

"You can't have Howard. I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget."

"Howard and I broke up!" Was this Howard's significant other? Howard was having an affair with another man? She'd thought a woman had spoken to her. Anger swirled through her like a hurricane. Here Howard was trolling the dating sites and he was already in a committed relationship. The man was so jealous he was killing off Howard's dates. Had Howard known about this?

A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature ran through her. "You killed all those women? You're a murderer!" Think, Lauren, think. Stall him. Keep him talking. That's what she'd do. Adam was almost here. If she stalled long enough...Please let Adam return in time.

"Come on. We don't have time to dawdle."

He secured her hands with plastic ties and dragged her behind the house and through back yards. It was pretty cold and no one was out. She tried to look through the windows they passed to see if anyone was watching, but the man walked on the side of the house with his arms around her as if they were lovers. Quickly, too quickly, they reached a small parking lot. There was the same jeep she saw the other day.

Lauren's stomach dipped. "So you _were_ stalking me. It was you in the jeep on Four-Wheel-Drive."

He smeared. "And you didn't even know."

He opened the door and hauled her up into the jeep. She pretended to slip.

"Get in. If you draw attention or scream, I'll kill you and whoever comes to help you."

* * *

Adam shot up the driveway. It took longer than he'd planned but he was finally ready. He hoped Lauren liked what they were about to do.

He opened the door and went inside. "Hey, Babe. Ready?"

The house was quiet. "Lauren?" He went to her room. Of course she hadn't slept there the night before because she'd slept in his, but her things were still there. Maybe she was in the bathroom.

"Lauren?"

There was no response. He checked her room and her bathroom. She wasn't in either place. He checked his room and she wasn't there, either. He went downstairs to the ground-level where the pool table and storage sheds were. She wasn't anywhere in the house. She wouldn't have taken a walk, especially when she knew they had plans.

Besides, her cell phone and purse were on the table. He checked his cell phone for messages. Nothing.

He went out on the back deck. One of his neighbors was standing there.

"Have you seen Lauren?"

"I don't know if it was her but I saw somebody walking along the sound toward the parking area a few minutes ago."

"Alone?"

"No. A man helped her along. At first I thought it was you, but you're larger and taller."

Lauren didn't know any men there. No need to jump to conclusions. She knew he was almost home so she wouldn't have gone for a walk on the beach. Besides, after the kidnapping attempt, she knew better than to go out walking alone. Her car was still in the garage.

Adam's stomach clenched. Could the serial killer have found her? He checked the garage again, then ran across the street to look down the beach. He didn't see her anywhere. He couldn't take any chances with this. She wouldn't have left without her car.

She hadn't been missing for forty-eight hours, but it was a kidnapping. He called the police and described the jeep they'd seen when they were in the Four-Wheel-Drive area and hung up.

He jogged down to the spot where people parked to walk to the ocean and asked if anyone had seen a black jeep. Someone told him he saw a couple walking there.

Adam got his four-wheel-drive and burned rubber toward Corolla.

* * *

The man had changed jeeps—from the black one a couple of miles from Adam's house to the green one they were now riding in. And he'd tied her to some mechanism rigged up at the seat and placed a blanket over the plastic ties so if anyone glanced in they wouldn't see the restraint. Lauren couldn't move and her hands were going numb.

"The ties are too tight."

"It's not going to matter one way or the other."

Fear flowed through Lauren. He'd murdered the other women. God only knew how many there were. Likely more than they thought, since most of the bodies hadn't been found.

"Did you kill Carolyn?"

"She was a tramp."

A park police car pulled up beside them on the driver's side but going in the opposite direction. The man motioned to them to stop.

"Don't even look at him," he mumbled. "Act up and you're both dead." He jammed a gun in her side. Tethered the way she was, she couldn't even open the door to escape.

"Hey, See," the officer said.

"Simon. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Been keeping us busy. Say, have you seen a black jeep about? We're looking for a man driving a black jeep. May have kidnapped a woman."

The gun shifted, along with Lauren's pulse. She didn't know anything about guns, but she didn't even want to think about the damage it could do to her if he shot her at close range.

"Sorry, Simon, we haven't seen one. This is Howard's co-worker come to visit."

Simon tipped his hat. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. Be careful." He nodded at See. "I'll be seeing you around. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Lauren said to the officer, but she didn't smile and she hoped he'd think something was off kilter once they drove away.

The officer left and her tiny chance of salvation went with him. Think, she told herself, but tethered the way she was, she couldn't think of any way to save herself. The thing was not to panic completely. She could feel the panic spreading through her, but if she came unglued, there was no chance for escape.

She couldn't help remembering the last time she came here with Adam. How perfect the day had been.

"How many women have you murdered?" she asked.

"Stop saying that. I've just rid the world of bad elements."

"What was so bad about the women you murdered?"

"They were leading sinful lives."

"Sinful lives? Everybody sins. Everybody. Even you."

"We are expected to comport ourselves in a certain way."

Lauren was quiet for a moment trying to gather her thoughts. The man was a lunatic."

"Why don't you and Howard come out the closet? You don't have to involve other people in this. It's not my fault Howard went to an online dating site."

His hand gripped the wheel so tightly it swerved a little. "He's home griping about you now. He was falling for you and I can't have that."

Her mouth dried, remembering the other bodies Patrick had thought were connected to the killer.

"I didn't know about you. I broke up with Howard when I discovered he was with you," Lauren said, trying to turn the tables. "And what about Patrick? He was innocent in all this. Why did you kill him?"

He was silent as he navigated the dirt road. People who rented houses for the holiday vacations were arriving. "He was getting too close."

"Too close? To what?"

"Eventually he would have discovered who I was."

Despair wrenched her chest. So Patrick was right. "He was studying your case? That was why you killed him? But he didn't know it was you."

"I couldn't take that chance." He shook his head. "You don't seem to understand. I have to take care of Howard."

"Your friend Simon saw my face. As soon as they put a bulletin out on me, he'll remember that I was in the car with you. And they'll catch you."

"I've eluded them for years," he said with more than a touch of pride. "Thirty-five to be exact. It's time I moved, anyway. I'm sick of this place. So just shut up."

She leaned forward to peer through the side mirror. "Are they behind you yet? It won't take long. My friend knows I wouldn't leave without my purse and cell phone. Especially not without my car. The police are onto you by now."

Suddenly he swerved off the road and nearly ran down a couple who were walking toward the ocean.

Lauren hoped they would call the police and report a potential drunk driver, but more than likely they wouldn't. Probably thought it was another man who wanted to test his skills driving the dunes.

This time as they hopped over dunes, she couldn't hold on to keep from being tossed in every which direction.

Due to the heavy rain, one area left a huge puddle, and unlike Adam, he was unwilling to try to navigate it. Mr. Hot Shot would have driven right through. This See person backed up quickly, and the rear ties rose in the air and plowed into a low dune, but when he tried to pull forward, the tires began to spin.

"Damn it. Rock the truck to help me get unstuck."

"Just accelerate again."

"Idiot, if I accelerate, we'll get in deeper. Just do as I say."

_Is this a reprieve?_ _Thank you, God._ Lauren wasn't about to help him in any way. Besides, the couple was close and hopefully he wouldn't kill her right here.

He was rocking and swaying and sweating, but the jeep wouldn't move. Thank God, they were well and truly stuck.

He turned red with exertions. "I said rock, damn it."

"I'm tied. I can't move."

"Your legs aren't tied."

She made an attempt. "I'm numb. These ropes have cut off my circulation. I can barely move."

Muttering about useless city women, he got out of the jeep and rummaged around in the back. The next thing Lauren saw was dirt sailing in the air on the driver's side, the way it flew when dogs started digging with their front legs. After a few shovelfuls, See jumped into the vehicle and stepped on the gas.

The wheels spun, but the truck still didn't move.

See hit the wheel and jumped out again. A tourist ambled over toward them.

"Can I help you there, buddy?" someone asked.

"No, I've got it," See muttered.

"I can go get my jeep and try to pull you out."

"We appreciate the offer," Lauren called out.

See looked up at her.

"Why don't you let your wife go to the house while I try to pull you out? My place is right over there," he said pointing to the house ahead of them.

See scowled and shifted restlessly in his seat. "You stay away from us."

"Didn't mean any harm," the man said, backing up and holding up his hands as if See had stuck a gun in his face. The man started walking away, but every now and then he looked back at them.

"Get out," See said. It was obvious that since things weren't going his way, he was coming unglued. It could go either way, but hopefully that would be an advantage for her.

"You tied me to the seat. If you keep me tied, people are going to see and get curious." If she were loose, she stood a better chance of escaping.

He rushed around the jeep and cut the ties.

Lauren wiggled her fingers and rubbed her arms to get the feeling back.

He hauled her roughly by the arm. "I've still got the gun. Do as I say." He smiled as a man passed them. "Act normal and you just might get out of this alive."

Lauren didn't believe that for a moment, but what could she do with the gun pressed against her?

"We're just another couple walking on the beach," he mumbled.

* * *

On the off chance the abductor had returned to the Four-Wheel-Drive area, Adam drove in that direction. God, he'd finally found the woman he loved and this happened. He didn't do a good job of taking care of her. Of course Lauren would tell him she was quite capable of taking care of herself and had done so for years.

He gripped the wheel tighter and leaned forward. The asshole wasn't going to kill her.

He tried to recall some of the autopsy info. Patrick had worked it out to a ritual. He believed the murders occurred at low tide. He was gathering info on places in the area where it could have occurred, but there were so many, it was hard to pin down. Since all the bodies had been found further South, Patrick had concentrated in that area. But it could have very well been in Four-Wheel-Drive.

He reached the hard packed sandy beach and swerved around a corner, pressed the accelerator and barreled down the road, mindful of pedestrians.

He had driven a ways down the beach when one man started yelling and shaking his fist. Then a ball rolled out in front of him and he nearly stood on his breaks, skidding to a stop. Whenever a ball rolled, kids were close behind. Sure enough, a little boy came chasing after it.

Impatiently, Adam brushed his hands through his hair and waited for the kid to move on.

Somebody tapped on his window.

Frowning Adam lowered it.

"This is the second time today some numbskull has come through here driving crazy. This is a pedestrian beach. I'm going to report you before you kill somebody."

"Sorry," Adam said, because the man was right. He started to roll the window up when the old timer kept at it.

"That fellow swerved into the dunes like the hounds of hell were chasing him. There's no reason to be driving like that. Now he's stuck in a sand dune and he's on foot, thank God. That's exactly where he needs to be. Walking."

"What color is the Jeep?" he asked, hopeful that it was black.

"Green." The man pointed toward the dunes. "It's still over there."

Adam frowned. "Was a woman with him?"

"He dragged her out about twenty minutes ago."

"Thank you, sir," Adam said, and waited for the man to cross the path before he backed up and swung into the dunes. It didn't take long for him to find the green jeep. Leaving his motor running, Adam went over to it.

The doors were unlocked and he opened it to check inside. He found plastic ties that had been cut and something rigged up that could be used to bind someone to the seat. Everything in him told him Lauren had been here. Nobody drove around with restraint mechanisms in their vehicle.

Adam checked the dashboard and found the registration information. The jeep belonged to a woman who lived in Four Wheel Drive. Lauren mentioned that Howard had been married. Only he didn't know Howard's last name. Would a control freak like him leave a vehicle in his wife's name? No matter, it was the only lead he had and he was using it.

Adam got back into his truck, called Eric and reported what he'd found while he walked around the area, searching for footprints.

That was when Eric told him the old black jeep had been found, but it had been reported stolen earlier that morning. The owner had been out of town.

It didn't take long for Adam to find footprints going into the dunes. He only hoped he could follow them. He got back into his truck and took off in the direction of the footprints but figured he should head to the address he'd found.

At the speed he was traveling, it didn't take very long to reach his destination. He eased his way to the house and knocked the door in.

Someone was sitting at the kitchen table, hands clenched, tears in his eyes. The man looked up at Adam.

"Who are you?" Adam asked.

"Howard Starkey."

Adam's stomach plummeted. Had he followed the wrong lead? "Where is she?"

Howard started crying and Adam felt a sorrow so deep he thought he'd never survive.

"If you've already killed her, you're going to die too."

Hurtling across the room, he yanked Howard from the chair nearly choking him. "She better still be alive," he gritted.

His lips trembled and tears rolled down his face. "I...I don't know."

Adam shook him hard. "Where is she?"

* * *

Lauren took another step, but the hill was so sandy she kept sinking to her knees. Vehicles didn't drive this dune. She dragged her feet and stepped again. She screamed as she stumbled and started rolling down the hill.

See cursed, ran back down the hill, and hauled her to her feet.

"Can't you do anything right?"

"It's too sandy in here. It's easier to walk on the path."

"Get up and keep going. Darn women aren't worth a dime these days. I don't know what Howard saw in you."

Lauren did as ordered, trying to slow her footsteps, hoping someone would come along. The dunes were really too hard to walk in and to avoid detection they had to travel the back roads that the jeeps took.

"I'm getting tired."

"Stop complaining."

"Do you live back here?"

He was silent as he tugged her along the path. This area was rarely traveled.

"Does Howard live back here or do both of you live together?"

He was silent.

Lauren was tired. Straight out walking was different from climbing through sand, up and down dunes and around roads. Especially looking over her shoulder with a gun guiding her. She couldn't even try to get away. And where was he taking her? Oh, God. Adam hadn't given her the details about what was done to the women. She thought she was out of that loop. She wasn't blond, bleached or otherwise.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Don't worry about it."

Was he crazy? Of course he was, she thought with a mix of anger and fear. That was why she was here. Fear was sapping her strength along with the walk. She trudged ahead, looking for any way to escape.

"Listen, why don't you and Howard talk about an exclusive relationship?" she asked, knowing the serial killer looked for an excuse to murder. For all she knew Howard could be part of it.

And then he smiled.

Fear like she never felt before flowed through Lauren. This must be his destination.

She screamed and tried to get away.

He laughed out loud and tugged her along. "Nobody will hear you," he said. "We're in the middle of nowhere and the tide's pretty loud. If somebody did happen to hear you, they'll think you were playing in the sand. Now get moving."

He shoved her toward an old shack. Taking out a key, he unlocked a door and pushed Lauren in.

Lauren was immediately snatched out of See's arms and a fist landed in his face. See dropped the gun and stumbled hard. The wall kept him from going down for two seconds, but then he was out flat on the floor.

That was when Howard came in, looking winded and with tears on his cheeks. He went toward the prone figure.

"Oh, Mama."

"Mama?" Lauren said shocked.

The hat had fallen off her head and long bleached blond hair fell out.

"Yeah," Adam sneered. "Mama doesn't want him dating anyone." Adam wrapped an arm around her tightly.

"I thought it was a man. That Howard was gay."

"No. Not a chance. Mama killed every woman who ever dated me. That's why I thought I was safe dating you. You were in Northern Virginia, too far away to get Mama's attention. But when you came here, everything changed."

Lauren wrapped her arms around Adam. She was so cold and she couldn't seem to stop trembling.

"I don't understand," Lauren said, "Why didn't your mother kill me when she killed Patrick?"

Tears were running down Howard's face. "I killed that old man. She told me to. I couldn't kill you. I just...I couldn't," he whispered.

"You cooked my breakfast?"

He nodded.

"Why did you invite me here?"

"I didn't mean to. She wanted me to, but I was going to try to save you, to keep her from killing you, but she...

That was when they heard sirens. In less than a minute, the park police were tearing into the building.

Chapter 10

An hour later Adam had taken Lauren to Amanda's house. Amanda and Lance were in the kitchen. Lauren had offered to help, but they'd insisted she sit in front of the fire with the baby and Adam. Christmas music played in the background and soothed her somewhat.

"Am I anything like that?" Adam asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Like Howard's mother."

Lauren shivered and pulled the afghan tighter around her. "Amanda is married and her husband is alive. You haven't killed any of her boyfriends."

"But..."

"It's hard to forget your childhood."

Adam scrubbed a hand through his hair. "And there are so many bad husbands out there."

"Lance isn't one of them."

He nodded and glanced over at them.

Lance had opened his mouth for the piece of brownie Amanda placed on his tongue. He chewed and kissed her.

"He's a good man," Adam agreed. "She's very lucky."

"There's a difference. You could cut them a little slack, though."

"Yeah." Adam sighed, his brow furrowed with worry. "If I ever get that sick, just shoot me."

* * *

Lauren was happy to be alive on Christmas morning. Things could have turned out so differently.

A couple of days had passed since she was abducted and she still slept uneasily at night, even though she slept in Adam's arms.

She'd learned that See was actually short for Cecilia. Howard's mother had managed to destroy any relationship he was able to create, making it impossible for him to have any kind of happiness or life of his own. But he was a grown man and he made decisions. Life was all about choices. He could have left.

If he hadn't known his mother was a serial killer and had murdered so many of his dates, Lauren would have felt sorrier for him. But it was the women who suffered—and their families. He knew about it and did nothing to help or stop it. But then she controlled Howard completely.

The authorities were still trying to get the woman to tell them where the bodies were buried.

Lauren shivered and snuggled with Adam. He placed a comforting arm around her.

After a few minutes, he said, "You okay, babe?"

"I am now." She sighed. "I guess we should get ready to go to Amanda's. I want to help her with dinner."

"I thought you cooked everything you were going to take."

"I did, but she might have some last minute preparations. Christmas dinner is a lot of work."

He kissed her forehead. "It's all under control. She's not expecting us until later. Get dressed in warm clothing."

Another shiver passed through her. "Not again."

"You still don't have my surprise."

"I'm still not over the ordeal. Everything that happened is too new."

"Yeah, but if you don't get back on that horse now, it'll be even more difficult in the future. Get dressed."

Lauren sighed deeply. She really didn't want to, but she got up and dressed in another pair of sweats. Her nerves kept jumping. She was afraid that if she turned a corner, that awful woman would be there.

And then Adam was with her, stroking her arms and holding her in his strong arms.

"I've always been able to take care of myself, but suddenly I feel like some incompetent idiot who needs someone to frighten the boogieman away."

"You've been through a lot. It'll get better, but it's not going to happen this week or next. And you won't be alone."

She'd called her son the day it happened and he'd wanted to fly out to her immediately, but between her and Adam, they convinced him to enjoy his holiday with his new family. She knew Adam and Josh had talked a long time before he relented. Still Josh called her several times a day just to make sure she was okay.

Howard was also in jail. He couldn't get to her.

"I'm not going to leave you until you're comfortable. Not for a minute."

"You can't be my crutch." She tried to move out of his arms, but he held her fast. She tilted her chin. "I'm used to standing on my own. I'll get through this."

"I know. But you add something meaningful to my life, something I didn't even know I was missing. I hope you feel the same about me."

She laid her head against his chest. "I do."

"It's okay to lean on other people. You don't have to be alone," he said softly. "Let's get ready so I can give you one of your Christmas gifts."

Lauren relented. "Okay." She put on her coat and they left.

Adam drove in the opposite direction from Four-Wheel-Drive and Lauren could feel herself beginning to relax. The tightness in her chest began to recede.

Adam clasped her hand and rubbed the back with his thumb. "It's a gorgeous day.

"No white Christmas this year."

"But a great one just the same."

She glanced at him. Today was good. The sun was shining brightly.

He turned on a road that led them out of town.

Suddenly they were driving toward a small airplane terminal.

"We're going out of town?" Adam never mentioned anything about flying.

"We're going skydiving."

"Skydiving? That was a teenager's dream."

"And it's about to become a woman's reality." He opened his door. "Let's hustle so Sam can spend some time with his grandchildren."

She noticed a man about Adam's age waiting impatiently inside the terminal.

"You're sure it's safe?" she whispered when she saw the small planes. They looked a little older than she was comfortable with.

"Sam's the best. Used to fly fighter jets."

_Oh Joy_. Now she was going up with a dare devil.

Lauren wasn't a coward with life—she'd survived a serial killer, hadn't she—she would try to muster up some courage for this.

She saw a short video and she was suited up. Then they practiced some jumping and landing positions.

Before she knew it they were flying in the wild blue yonder. Okay, so she felt apprehensive. That was normal. But Adam had that sparkle in his eyes again. If they were ever in a long-term committed relationship, life would never be boring.

He clipped them together and wrapped his arms around her. "Ready?"

She nodded. The door was open and he shouted, "Lean forward."

So easy to say but difficult to do when nothing but air separated her from the ground, and she was ten thousand feet in the air. Her inclination was to close her eyes. But she was only doing this once, and she might as well see it all. With a little nudge from Adam she moved forward and the bottom fell out.

The wind pushed her arms wide. For a few seconds it felt like a free fall to earth but it wasn't at the speed of a roller coaster ride, and then the parachute opened and they were jerked up until they began to float.

Adam had a small video camera strapped to his wrist and he was taking pictures of them.

It was a wonderful feeling floating in the air. Because the day was clear they could see for miles. The ocean, the sound. Everything looked so much tinier than it actually was. The water, though, seemed to go on forever. For a space of time she forgot everything—her loneliness, the fear. This moment was so precious. She could feel the strength of Adam behind her.

Adam nuzzled her ear. "Merry Christmas, baby."

"It really is."

"Your future will be filled with excitement. Marry me?"

Lauren jerked. "What?"

"Couldn't think of a better way to ask."

"Wow."

"Is that a yes?"

She'd known this man less than a month, and yet she felt she'd known him forever. Was she ready to take on this new excitement at fifty-five? _Heck yes_.

"Yes," she screamed out and could feel his chuckled behind her.

He was taking pictures. She hoped it captured the joy in her heart.

"I'm going back to Virginia with you. Be prepared for a wild ride."

"Change is good," Lauren said. And it was. Who would have thought she'd find love at the seashore, and that it would be with a completely different man than the one she'd come here to spend time with?

You made plans and life was what you got. _And isn't it grand_? Bad things had happened, but if she hadn't met Adam, she'd probably be one of the many women Cecilia murdered.

Wasn't God great? This wasn't her plan, but here she was floating in the air and enjoying it—with a wonderful man. Gladness filled her heart. She had so much to be grateful for. Her son was happily married to a wonderful woman. Adam might have his faults as everyone did, but life would never be dull and he was a great man. Joy filled her heart.

"Merry Christmas," she sang into the air and it seemed to float off into forever. She felt fantastic.

She could feel a chuckle from Adam's chest. "It is, babe. I knew you'd like this."

* * *

Two hours later Josh Grant woke up in San Francisco happy with his wife in his arms. He kissed her gently.

"We better get ready and go downstairs," he said.

She stretched and agreed.

While she made a quick trip to the bathroom, Josh decided to check his messages before he followed her. No telling what his mother had gotten into. He saw a text from her with an icon showing a picture was attached. Eager to get a look of the man his mom had fallen for, he opened it.

And his heart nearly stopped. His mother was skydiving. There was a wide smile on both their faces.

"Cindy. Can you believe this?"

Cindy rushed out of the bathroom. "What?"

"Look at this," he said, holding the phone out for her to see. "My mother's gone wild!"

*** The End ***

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed the first title in the "Fifty Gone Wild" series. There are four novels in the series so far; **Christmas Gone Wild** , **Slippery Slope** , **Secrets in the Sand** , and **A Kiss So Deadly**. These women are doing amazing things. Unexpected events are occurring and life is changing. The children are out of the house and often through college and it represents even more adjustments. These are not tame women sitting on the sidelines waiting for life to happen. They are going after something new and exciting.

So please join me in future titles in this series.

Readers like you help me to continue working with the craft I love. Thank you so much for your support and for so many kind and uplifting letters and e-mails. If you enjoyed this story, please review this book.

I love hearing from readers. You may visit my web page at: www.CandicePoarch.com

Warmest Regards

Candice Poarch

About the Author

Candice Poarch is the winner of the 2012 Emma Award for the Suspense Book of the Year for **Deadly Intentions** , the last book in "The Golden Bowl" series. **Secrets in the Sand** made the Amazon Bestseller List. She grew up in Stony Creek, Virginia, and graduated from Virginia State University with a degree in Physics. She is married with three adult children and two precious granddaughters. She takes pride in crafting believable stories. As a child she was a dreamer and created stories in her mind. As she grew older, her writing centered on families, romance, and suspense. The quest for love is universal, she says. She believes that everyday life in America (whether small town or major metropolitan city) has its own rich rewards. She also likes telling stories that will leave today's busy reader feeling refreshed, hopeful and inspired—not always an easy task, but well worth the challenge.

Acknowledgments

My sincere thanks to readers, book clubs, booksellers and librarians for their continued support. As always, profound thanks go to my family, my critique partner, Sandy Rangel, and to Shirley Hailstock for cover designs.

Excerpts

### Slippery Slope

### by

### Candice Poarch

### Prologue

Amy Stewart was annoyed at Dillon, her husband, for canceling their annual Caribbean trip. She considered doing nothing special for his birthday, but that would be cruel. Every year for the last twenty, one of his unspoken gifts was the trip away from winter. She would have chosen a different location, as long as it was warm, but his birthday was in January and she let him choose. It was especially cold this year with higher snowfall totals than usual. She was looking forward to going.

Instead of packing swimsuits for the tropics, she was meeting across town with his best friend, Warren, to plan his party.

Warren Scott was a real estate broker. She parked in front of his office and went inside. A little bell announced her arrival. His secretary, Holly Conrad, wasn't at her desk and he peeped out of his office to motion her in.

Amy started to sit in one of the high-backed soft chairs when the door opened again. A man entered with a huge vase of the most perfect roses. At least two dozen, if not more.

Warren came out again, covered the phone with his hand, and asked her to sign for it.

"These are going to make someone very happy," Amy remarked while she scribbled on the digital screen.

"We aim to please," the man said with a smile. He wore the emblem of the most prominent floral shop in the area.

Obviously they were for Holly. As Amy bent to smell the fragrance, the card fell to the floor. She picked it up and knowing she shouldn't be so nosey, she was curious if they were from Warren. What a lovely gesture.

Smiling she glanced at the card as she slipped it back into the envelope.

The first thing she saw was a name. Dillon. Her husband! She snatched the card from the envelope and read the inscription. _Thanks for a lovely time, darling_ , it said and it was signed with Dillon's distinctive signature. She should know. Amy had been married to him for twenty-five years.

With Amy's world crashing around her, Holly walked into the office. She was talking on a cell phone and hadn't seen Amy.

"Look, I need to talk to you right now. I'll meet you in a few minutes." Then she glanced up and alarm spread over her face. A guilty look Amy honed in on.

"You little tramp. You're having an affair with my husband?" Amy asked, but it was more a statement. A man didn't send roses like that unless something was going on.

"I..." Holly put the phone to her ear again. "I can't talk now," she said and disconnected.

"Answer me," Amy demanded.

Warren came in, glancing from one woman to the next.

"Did you know?" Amy asked.

Puzzled, he asked. "Know what?"

"That your secretary is having an affair with my husband." Amy glanced back at Holly. "He's old enough to be your father for chrissakes. What is he, your sugar daddy? He takes care of you? What is it? Answer me, damn it. I want to know how you could go to bed with a married man and live with yourself."

Near tears, Holly said, "I have to leave."

"Oh, so suddenly you're shy and timid, but not too timid to go after a married man."

Quickly Holly grabbed her purse and dashed out the door without retrieving her coat or claiming the roses.

Warren tried to wrap his arms around Amy, but she evaded his embrace glaring at him.

"Did you know?" Amy asked.

"Amy..."

"Did...you...know?"

He sighed deeply. "I hoped it would fizzle out quickly. I talked to him and tried to make them see that what they were doing was wrong, but neither of them would listen."

Disgust, hurt, anger, every emotion imaginable roiled through Amy as she headed to the door. She swiveled and went back to the desk, plucked up the roses, and dumped them in the trash—vase and all.

"Don't go like this," Warren pleaded. "You need to calm down."

"Calm down? Are you crazy? You knew Dillon was fooling around and you didn't say one word. One word. Whether you thought it was going to fizzle out or not is a load of shit, so don't tell me what to do." Amy dragged in a ragged breath. "I'm going to calm down all right. I'm going home and kill that SOB." Amy seared him with a look so heated he backed off.

She thought things were different for Dillon and her. How many times had friends lamented about roving husbands who strayed until they were too old and broken down to be any use to anybody in bed. But then came Viagra and they were out there again.

Outside, she glimpsed Holly crying and clutching the steering wheel. Amy sneered, got into her own car, and headed home to confront her lying, cheating husband.

* * *

Holly sat in a wooded area where she and Dillon met in secrecy. She tried to pull herself together. It was almost dark and was now stuffy in the car. She cracked the window.

It was over. She'd never see Dillon again. She was sure Amy wasn't as angry about the relationship as she was about the fact that Dillon had the nerve to fool around. But Dillon had needed Holly. How many times had he told her that?

There were so many things crashing on her at once. She should have known it was going to end this way. Dillon couldn't stand up to his wife. Holly should have learned her lesson from her mother.

She moaned. What should she do? Everything had gone so wrong.

A car pulled up behind her and she sighed, grateful Dillon had come, after all. Maybe his wife had agreed to a divorce and now they could be together. She opened the door to embrace him, but the relief she felt quickly changed to unease when she realized it wasn't Dillon.

"What're you doing here?" she asked, backing up until her back pressed against the door.

And then she saw the gun. Stark terror roiled through her. She tried to scramble away, but the door blocked her.

"No, no...I..."

Chapter 1

Two months had passed since Amy Stewart discovered her husband was having an affair with a much younger woman. Two months since Holly "his lover" died in a deserted area Amy later learned was where Dillon and Holly met for their trysts. Two months since Dillon had blamed Amy for the murder and two months since he moved out of their home and ended the life they'd built together.

Just like that, twenty-five years had been crushed to cinders, leaving Amy reeling from the wreckage.

She lived in the picturesque Outer Banks in the peaceful town of Wet Sands, where thousands traveled each year to enjoy their surroundings and relax. There was nothing relaxing about her existence right now.

Thanksgiving and Christmas were specks in her memory. It was January and the fact that her marriage was over forever had finally begun to sink in. What was worse—Holly had died the night Amy found out about the affair and the police suspected her of killing the young woman.

Amy had been devastated, even livid, but she never considered murdering the young woman for making a foolish decision. Holly had been twenty-six, much too young to die the way she had. The one she really wanted to knock senseless was Dillon. He'd taken the vows. He'd promised love and fidelity. About the most useless words in the universe.

Thank God her family rallied around her when Dillon moved into his man cave for a week. Then right after Holly's funeral he rented a townhouse because he couldn't stand to be near Amy. The loss filled her chest and expanded, causing her to tremble uncontrollably. The grief was always worse at night when the house grew quiet. She wished Wet Sands Market wasn't seasonal so that she would at least have the excuse of work to keep her busy.

Unable to sleep Amy walked the deck and glanced at the sprinkling of lights across the sound. She'd always thought this peaceful scene was beautiful. The washing of the waves against the shore. The lights broadcasting she wasn't alone in the world. But she felt alone, as if a semi worth of troubles were crushing her.

Amy shook herself and drew the blanket tighter around her, then sank into the lounge chair, and curled her feet beneath her.

The police might not have arrested her but they still believed she'd killed Holly.

One more case left unsolved. With her as their main suspect, they weren't looking too hard elsewhere.

She'd thought Dillon had loved her.

Amy sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. Maybe they could get through this. Dillon wasn't the first husband to have an affair, or the last. Holly was dead. And if every marriage hit with affairs ended, few would survive.

Deep down she must have known something was off. She was willing to shoulder some of the blame. But she didn't have an affair.

Amy's eyes snapped open. Was she crazy? She must have drunk too many Vodka cocktails. She wouldn't take that creep back if he was the last man on earth. He'd betrayed her and she wanted no part of him.

It was time for her to stop wallowing, get off her butt, and solve her own case. If the police couldn't find Holly's killer, then she would. She wasn't going to let Dillon and that woman be a stain on her future.

Her girlfriends offered to help. They were a tight group, but Amy had declined. Lindsey Olsson, Amy's friend in D.C., was taking cancer treatments and she wanted her friends available for her. Amy had spent Christmas with Lindsey. The friends were all pitching in to help. Amy had chosen the holiday because Ben was home and she didn't want any part of her brother.

The wind kicked up and blew across the sound. Amy shivered. It was too cold to sit on the deck. She got up to go inside, but for some reason she glanced back toward the sound. Even though the January cold whipped through her, there were boats out there with lights beaming. She shivered and went inside where the warmth wrapped around her. Maybe now that she had a plan, she'd be able to sleep.

Dillon used to chastise her and make fun of her plans. He wanted her to simply shoot from the hip. To just let go and be free, but there were too many unknowns in Amy's life for her to be that carefree. She had to know where she was going. Had to have a secondary plan in case the first one fell through.

She chuckled, a dry humorless laugh. She should have had a plan for when her marriage fell apart. But she'd trusted Dillon.

She'd talk to Dillon tomorrow and go from there. Maybe he had information. Obviously Holly had made other enemies. Someone who was angry enough to murder.

* * *

Amy didn't know that she was being watched.

Neil Baker had borrowed a friend's boat and moored it far enough into the sound that Amy couldn't detect him watching her through high-powered binoculars. He regarded her as she sat on a deck that wasn't nearly as impressive as his old friend Patrick's was. Patrick was murdered a few months ago and Neil was staying in his place.

He watched as she went back into the house. He observed as the light went on and off in her bedroom. The good thing about the water was he could watch from a good distance and the mouse never knew.

His stomach cramped with grief. Holly's death had hit him hard. She was his half-sister and their relationship had been tentative in the beginning. As time passed and with urging from others, they'd grown close.

Holly had been naïve and gullible. It must have been easy for Dillon to talk her into a relationship. He was much older and smoother than men her age. Unlike most wives who'd chastised their husbands, Amy had taken it out on Holly. What did she plan to do? Murder every young woman her husband betrayed her with?

Neil gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to stop until Amy was in jail.

Oh, yes. He was going to keep a close watch on her in ways that she didn't suspect. She wasn't going to like it when she found out, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Two old saws came to mind. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. The second was made into a song. "There's a thin line between love and hate." They both worked to his advantage.

He smiled. "Be careful, Amy," he whispered. "You never know who's watching you. You're going to make a mistake and I'll be there to catch you."

***

### Secrets in the Sand

### by

### Candice Poarch

Chapter 1

From the time Kristin Mayer was a little girl she'd wanted to live on the beach. Just a cute little cottage with a beachy theme overlooking the Atlantic. A place where friendly neighbors weren't tourists, but actually lived there. Back then her parents took her and her siblings to the Outer Banks for summer vacations.

She finally had that cottage, but it wasn't the cute little home she'd envisioned, rather more a ragged, sturdy structure needing tons of renovations and even more elbow grease.

She found out quickly the neighbors weren't exactly friendly, either. There were only three houses that were semi-close, if you didn't consider that they were separated by dunes and pot-holed dirt roads that quickly filled with water with the downpours they often got.

Her next door neighbor was so standoffish he didn't invite her in when she went over to introduce herself. Although she saw him occasionally walking on the beach with his daughter.

Even Mrs. Alcott, who welcomed her with a plate of home-baked cookies the day she moved in, made it clear she liked her privacy.

Nevertheless, Kristin now owned her beach cottage, such as it was, even though the situation wasn't perfect. She'd learned early on that life never went according to plan. Making lemonade out of her lemons was her standard M.O.

Thank goodness there was enough work to keep her too busy to think beyond her chores, and her sister and brother lived only half an hour from her.

Kristin's neighbor's daughter came into view, walking along the shore. She wondered if something was wrong with the child. She never walked the beach alone. Although she was home all day, she never ventured out without her father—except for today.

Okay, she thought turning away from the scene. It was none of her business.

The living room was finally looking good, she thought as she washed out the paint roller. Soft white paint with a touch of gray made it bright and cheerful. Kristin stored her supplies, showered, and strolled outside.

It was a beautiful day. She should have donned her straw hat, but after being closed in all day, the sun felt good on her face.

Almost every day she questioned herself about her abrupt move to the Outer Banks. Was it a sound idea? But who could be displeased with the view of the ocean as her front yard? And the fact that there was barely anyone in sight on this isolated stretch of sand and water?

Mrs. Alcott's son was usually out fishing, but not today. Maybe he was working for a change.

By the time Kristin reached the beach, the girl was walking back, gathering sea shells in a colorful tote. There were many to be had since only the property owners who lived here ventured this far off-road. The area was only accessible by four-wheel drive.

Kristin spoke to the girl. "That's a lovely bag," she said, pointing to the tote bag. "Did you buy it around here?"

"Thank you, no," she mumbled. She wasn't a girl at all, but a young woman in her early twenties. Her beautiful hazel eyes sparked in the sun. She was much younger than Kristin's girls, but seeing her made Kristin miss her daughters who still lived in Northern Virginia. She smiled and moved on quickly.

Kristin resumed her slosh through the edge of the water.

She heard a four-wheel-drive approaching but knew she was far enough from the packed-sand travel lane that she was okay.

She'd gone several yards when she heard a scream. Kristen turned to see the girl's bag crushed by the Jeep's tire and the Jeep barreling down on her. As if one foot was on the break and the other on the gas, the motor revved as the car edged toward the girl with no more than a foot separating them. Screaming, the girl was running toward the ocean, but the jeep stayed with her.

"Hey!" Kristen yelled, sprinting toward her, her heart lodged in her throat. The driver looked as if he was going to run her down.

Fear for her safety galvanized Kristin. But they were on the beach without obvious weapons. Not even a rock. She couldn't compete with a Jeep. She saw a piece of driftwood and grabbed it, nearly stumbling as she ran toward them.

The motor revved again. The driver was so intent on the girl he didn't see Kristin until it was too late. She swung the wood at the driver with all her might. It sailed into the windshield before the Jeep swerved, the driver cursing her as he steered away.

Kristin tried to get a good look at him and his license plate, but with his red cap pulled low to hide most of his face and the dark shades, she couldn't make out his features. And wet sand clung to his license plate, covering the letters.

She approached the girl who was still in the water. "He's gone. Are you okay?"

The girl nodded and started walking toward Kristin.

"I'm Kristin Mayer, your neighbor."

"Meg...Megan Holloman." She was shaking.

Kristin picked up the bag Megan had dropped and braced an arm around her shoulder. Now she was trembling uncontrollably. "I'm afraid your bag's ruined and your shells are crushed."

"Oh, no." Sadness seemed to overwhelm her. It was probably more from the near miss than the broken shells.

"There are plenty of shells here so you can pick more. Was the bag special?"

She nodded. "I made it."

"It's beautiful," she said, trying to calm her. "We have to call the police. Was your cell phone in there?"

"No."

"Let's make the call from my house."

Megan pulled back. "Do we have to?" she asked nervously.

"We have no choice. Someone tried to run you down. He could have hurt or killed you." At her skeptical look, Kristin said, "None of us are safe walking this beach if this guy thinks he can come back anytime and do this. If he thinks he can get away with it, it could happen again."

"I don't want to cause trouble."

"You aren't the trouble-maker. Do you know who it was?"

She shook her head. "It happened too fast."

"We still have to report it."

***

It only took a few minutes for the police to arrive. The officer introduced himself as Will Burns. Megan seemed even more nervous than before. He appeared to be in his early fifties and moved sluggishly, as if he wanted to be anywhere but there and didn't mind letting them know. It tugged at Kristin's patience, and she wasn't known for much in the first place.

Megan was quiet and withdrawn, so Kristin told him what had happened.

"Maybe you should stay in the house while your father's away, young lady."

That patronizing tone snapped Kristin's temper. "Why should she have to stay in because of some jerk? I gave you a description of the vehicle. There can't be that many Jeeps like that here. Especially with a college emblem on it."

"You said you didn't see the driver's face."

"Not clearly, but you can still check the DMV for license plates can't you? This area isn't that large. Only a few tourists are here now."

He nodded, but Kristin knew she wasn't getting through to him.

"Megan's got a few enemies here," he said. "It could be lots of people, more than likely, teens."

"I still expect you to look into the matter," Kristin said, thoroughly irritated at the officer.

"We will."

_Sure you will_ , Kristin thought agitated. But she wasn't going to let the matter rest there. She was going to the station and talk to his supervisor.

He left as soon as he could—and sooner than he should have.

"I have to go home," Megan said. "I shouldn't have come outside."

"You have just as much right to walk the beach as anyone else—without being terrorized."

"But my father doesn't want me outside without him."

Probably because he feared she might be attacked. There was a story here, Kristin thought. Megan seemed as normal as any person her age. So something else concerned her father.

"I'll walk you home."

They were silent on their trek, which wasn't easy. Megan lived next door and the distance was short, but next door was around bends and over huge sand dunes that were difficult to scale.

"Is your mother at work, too?" Kristin asked.

"No. She doesn't live here." Again, Kristin wondered at the closed expression on Megan's face.

As they approached her house, the girl's father drove into the yard. When he saw Kristin with Megan, he jumped out of the vehicle and jogged over.

"Why are you out here? You're supposed to stay in the house, Megan." Every muscle in Chase Holloman's chiseled face was tense. His hair was cut short and he wore a perpetually weary expression. Gray hair was sprinkled around the edges of his temples.

Megan started to walk quickly to the house.

Dark brows snapped together and he leveled an intense gaze on Kristin. "Are you encouraging her to leave the house?" he asked. Megan had his eyes, Kristin thought, only hers was gentle. His snapped with irritation.

Kristin waited until Megan made it to the house and went in. "Your daughter was almost run over on the beach today. Someone in a Jeep tried to run her down."

Hands balled at his sides, he started toward the house. Kristin grabbed his arm, the muscles tight and corded.

"She's okay," Kristin told him. "Just shaken up. I called the police and reported it."

He leveled his weary gaze on her once again. "They won't do anything."

"What do you mean he won't do anything? I'm talking to his supervisor tomorrow."

"What kind of Jeep?"

Kristin described the car and his eyes glittered with fury. This was the first time she'd seen him up close. He seemed old beyond his years, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"You know who the car belongs to, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah, and I'll deal with it."

"You shouldn't have to. That's what the police are for."

"Thank you for intervening." Then he walked off and into the house.

So much for her peaceful walk on the ocean, Kristin thought as she headed back to her house. It wasn't in nearly the good condition his house seemed to be. It looked well-kept. The porch was painted white and two chairs were there with a small table.

When she started back, her other neighbor, Sarah Alcott, stopped her as she rounded a large sand dune.

The woman, whose face wore the ravages of years in the sun, wore a huge brimmed straw hat and a long dress with sleeves. No doubt she was plastered with sun block. Kristin had been so eager to get outside she completely forgot about the sun block. At this rate, she was going to look eighty by the time she reached sixty.

The older woman, no more than five-two, stopped in front of Kristin and shook her head. "That poor man," she said, glancing toward the house. "He's had his share of troubles. What with his wife and that girl."

"Megan? She seems a lovely young lady."

Sarah shook her head sadly. "Everything isn't the way it appears."

"Oh." Kristin was really intrigued now. Although she wasn't one to usually engage in gossip.

"She really shouldn't have come out of the house without her father."

"Why ever not?" Kristin bristled. "I have daughters and I want them to be able to walk on the beach without having to worry about being attacked by some ignorant jerk."

"Your daughters will be safe. You're new to the area so you don't know Megan killed a local woman, Jodi Burns, eight years ago."

Shocked, Kristin said, "Killed her? Why, she couldn't have been more than..."

"She was twelve at the time."

Kristin glanced back toward the house where both father and daughter had disappeared. "What happened?"

"Nobody knows. Megan was so traumatized about what she did she completely blocked it from her memory. For a while the child couldn't even talk. It was a sad time," Sarah said. "Megan and Jodi's daughter were best friends. They were the same age and Jodi's daughter, Linette, hasn't been the same since her mother was murdered." Sarah shook her head sadly. "She lost her mother and her best friend in one fell swoop."

"Poor thing." Kristin thought it was a loss in all corners.

"Chase was right to make Megan stay inside. That boy of Jodi's went buck wild. His daddy never gave him any restrictions. Let him do what he wanted."

"Do you think he was the one who tried to run Megan down?"

"Of course it was. I recognized his Jeep."

"Then I should tell the officer."

"Like he's going to do anything. He's Conan's uncle."

"He's related to the man I brought the house from?"

"That was Conan's dad."

"Are you telling me the woman was murdered in my house?"

"It happened outside, further over in the dunes. They'd made a fire on the beach that night and...well, the rest we'll never know," she remarked wryly. "They moved out soon after Jodi died. Too many memories. Rented it out for a while, but this place is so isolated. Too far from everything for the tourists. Besides, you have to keep a rental property up and Elton just let it go. Plus you can't drive a car in here. Tourists stay in the four-wheel drive area, but not here. I'm surprised you bought the place. Needs a lot of work."

"I don't mind hard work."

She hiked an eyebrow. "Been hearing a lot of banging over there. You plan to fix that place up all by yourself?"

"Most of it."

Sarah looked at her skeptically. "Well, women have had to learn to do things for themselves."

Kristin scoffed. "We have always done things for ourselves." Kristin was a single mother with two divorces behind her. If she waited around for a man to do things, nothing would get done.

Lemonade again, Kristin thought. When she was fired from her job of thirty years, she sold her house in Arlington, Virginia, and came here to be near her sister and brother. She was living off her severance package right now, but she couldn't afford to retire. Problem was, she didn't have a clue what she wanted to do.

She was now making repairs on her acquisition. There were so many it took up most of her days. She didn't mind the work, but she was wondering if this was going to be just more lemons.

***

### Excerpt

### A Kiss So Deadly

### by

### Candice Poarch

### Chapter 1

It was dark as Leah exited the closest New York subway to the quaint street of her brick townhouse in Greenwich Village. She pressed Jason's number on her iPhone. The SOB. She'd been trying to reach him most of the day—and the phone went to voice message—again.

"Jason? You need to call me—immediately. I will not drop Liz as a client. Do you hear me? I will not drop her. You must be insane to even ask me to."

Leah continued to walk briskly toward home. Although it was August, it was hotter than Hades and she wanted to get out of her sweaty clothes, shower, and take a breather. But more than anything, she wanted to speak to Jason Barrett.

Nothing was ever the way she expected things to be. She'd learned only a month ago that Stephen, her ex, had sold his half of the business she and he had started a few years ago—to Jason—without informing her. If only she'd known.

All these years he was a silent partner. Suddenly, now that Stephan was dead, Jason was asserting his authority. But she ran the company and she wasn't going to allow him to come in like a steam roller issuing orders about a situation that would change the face of her business.

Leah slid the phone into her pocket and was passing a growth of trees when suddenly someone stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

"Excuse me," Leah said and tried to step around the beefy man. His cap was pulled low hiding his eyes. Leah side-stepped and tried to keep on waking, but he moved, too, blocking her path.

"Excuse me," she repeated. There were people about, but she was in a quiet little corner.

He jerked something out—a knife. My word. He thrust it toward her. "Give me your bag, lady."

Leah jumped back, holding her purse out in front of her. She had credit cards and a small amount of cash, but all the money in the world wasn't worth dying over.

"Here, take it," she said.

But instead of grabbing her bag he grabbed her arm and jabbed the knife toward her. She wielded the briefcase to deflect the blade, knocking his hand aside. Instantly, he lunged for her again and she screamed. "Take the bag."

Then she realized the purse wasn't on her. She panicked. Where did it go? It must have dropped to the ground.

But he didn't scoop it up, merely came after her with a desperation that terrorized her.

Heart-pounding fear drove her to kick out. "What do you want?" she shouted.

He didn't respond, just played with her as a bored, malicious lab assistant would taunt a mouse. With an evil, gleam in his eyes, he jabbed toward her again.

She angled the briefcase to keep the knife from slicing into her. Finally he lunged so forcefully, she fell backwards on the ground. Suddenly someone shouted and feet ran in her direction.

The attacker glanced around. "I'm not through with you," he said, and ran off, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Leah's heart pounded like a race horse's. She fought for a breath as she slumped on the ground and noticed her purse was still there. Her attacker hadn't tried to take it. Why not?

The energy drained out of her. He didn't want her money. He wanted to kill her. _Actually kill her_. But why? She didn't know him.

_I'm not through you with_. What did he mean by that cryptic statement? Why would he want to harm her?

"I called the police. Are you hurt, Miss?" someone asked.

* * *

It was after ten when Leah finally limped into her home after answering a million questions from the police. Robberies occurred every day in New York. She held little hope of them finding the man. Except this was more than a robbery.

She put the security alarm on, checked it twice, before she headed upstairs. She dropped her Louis Vuitton briefcase on the bed. It was ruined with knife slashes, but thank God he'd slashed the briefcase and not her. She could replace the briefcase.

She still ached from scrapes and bruises and fear.

She ran the water in her Jacuzzi to soak her sore muscles and began to pull her clothes off. The suit was ruined, also. Chanel couldn't survive the hole in the sleeve and numerous tears. She tossed it into the trash.

After the nightmare she went through she never wanted to see it again, even if it was designer. Maybe that was the reason someone tried to mug her. But designer wear was par for the course in New York. She usually didn't take the subway, but she'd been in Brooklyn helping a student she was mentoring and it was easier and quicker to take the subway than hazard one of New York's crazy cabs.

Next time she'd take the cab.

Gathering a robe around her, she poured herself a glass of wine. On second thought she needed something stronger. She splashed bourbon into a brandy snifter. Before she could take a drink the phone rang. It was about time Jason responded to her calls. She picked her cell phone up.

"Jas...?"

"You bitch."

Alarm and puzzlement swept through Leah as the harsh unrecognizable voice breathed over the phone. It didn't even sound like the attacker. "Who are you?"

"You talked my wife into cleaning me out. You're not going to get away with it."

Leah still didn't recognize the voice. "Are you responsible for the attack on me tonight?"

"You were attacked? Good. I hope they beat the crap out of you."

Leah was simmering mad. "What are you talking about?"

"You talked Liz into cleaning me out."

Elizabeth Becker. "First of all, I didn't talk her into anything. And if you got caught with your pants down don't blame me," Leah said. This wasn't her first threatening call from some disgruntled husband. Most of the time it was all bluster. But she could never tell when it wasn't. And maybe he was behind her attack. He was the owner of a billion dollar company with enough sense not to admit to any wrong doing.

"Marriages are sacred."

"Stan, Stan." This was evidence true that men thought between their legs rather than their head. Stan built a billion dollar empire, yet when it came to the relationship with his wife and mistress, his brain had turned to fluff. "Did you remember your sacred vows when you were between your secretary's legs?" Leah sneered.

"Listen, bitch. Liz won't get away with it and neither will you. I'll teach you not to interfere in marriages."

Fear climbed up her spine. "Like you did earlier when you sicked your dog on me? I'll be prepared the next time."

"Will you?" he asked.

"Better talk to your girlfriend or whoever you were fooling around with. Better still, why don't you hash this out with Liz's lawyer?"

"It's none of your damn business."

The call disconnected.

Leah called the police. She was concerned for Liz as well as herself.

They both needed protection.

She was really pissed now. Her blood pressure had surely shot up to 200. And after all she'd gone through, if Jason Barrett thought she would drop Liz as a client, he was crazy. She picked up the phone and dialed his office again only to be told he was out of the office for two weeks.

"I've been calling all day. No one mentioned he was out of town?"

With the cell phone pressed to her ear, she paced angrily.

Two weeks? What fund manager was out of reach for two whole weeks? "This is Leah Gray. May I leave a message?"

"I can have someone else help you," the friendly voice responded.

Before she spoke, Leah held the phone away from her ear and counted to three. "It's urgent I speak to Mr. Barrett immediately," she finally said.

"I'm sorry. As I said, he isn't available until mid-August."

Frustrated, Leah hung up and rubbed her forehead. Okay. There was more than one way to reach him. Giorgio Barrett would know where his nephew was, but she wasn't in the mood for Giorgio's melodrama. And she certainly didn't have an hour to kill on the phone. He'd keep her tied up in gloom and trivia until they were both in tears over the loss of Stephan, her long ago ex and Giorgio's lover.

Now that was a story better left for another day.

Her ex had died a month ago. Years ago he'd bailed her out by starting a company with her. She thought he still owned the other half. It wasn't until his death that she realized Jason Barrett, his lover's nephew, had actually bought out _his_ shares of _her_ company.

Leah didn't understand it. Stephen left her a fortune. He wasn't hurting for money. Why on earth would he sell out to Jason? And why didn't he tell her about it?

It was tough when you were grieving and pissed at the same man. But Stephen wasn't malicious, so why did he do it without telling her or letting her buy out his half? She could afford it.

Now Jason owned fifty percent. Stephan had been a silent partner, but Jason thought he could tell her what to do. She'd run the company for eight years and it would be a cold day in hell before she gave up her management role.

She had to contact him and the only person she knew in Jason's family was Giorgio.

Taking a deep breath, Leah toggled through the numbers on her iPhone until she reached his number and pressed the button.

He answered on the first ring.

"Hi, Giorgio."

"Well, it's about time you called," he said accusingly.

"I'm sorry. I've been really busy."

"Too busy for old friends?"

"How have you been?" She really cared, but talking to Giorgio depressed her.

"How do you think?" he said affronted. I just lost..."

"I miss him, too," she said quietly.

"You certainly don't act like it."

"That's not fair. We deal with grief in our own way."

He blew out a long-suffering sigh. "I know. I know you loved him and he loved you, too. So why did you really call?"

"I need to talk to Jason."

"Why? You two never talk."

"Business."

"So what's wrong?"

"Giorgio..."

"Okay, okay. He's in the Outer Banks."

Puzzled, Leah asked, "Why?"

"He's on vacation. A well-deserved one, I might add. Just because you avoid Wet Sands like the plague doesn't mean everyone does. Stephan and I used to go there, you know. We always enjoyed it."

No, she didn't know. Leah inhaled sharply. Stephan never told her that. "Do you have Jason's number?"

"If I were you I'd go back there just to show off how well I'd done. How many years has it been since you've been home?"

Too many. "This is home, Giorgio. And I was in Wet Sands a couple months go. Remember my sister's memorial service."

"And before then? Thirty some years? Am I right?" When silence greeted him, he said softly, "Hon, I know you've had it bad lately, but Stephan wanted you to return. He thought you'd never completely heal until you confronted your past."

"What psycho babble. I don't need to go back. There's nothing to confront. The past is what it was and going back won't change it. When I get the urge for the beach I go to Florida or the Bahamas. Now, the number, Giorgio?" The problem with talking with him was getting past the drama.

He let out another long-suffering sigh. "You always were hard-headed. Won't do you any good to get the number. Jason's not going to answer you. He's on va-ca-tion. Why don't you join him? He's straight."

"Because he's on vacation and I'm not. Will you please give me his number?"

"I'll give you his number and the address to the house he's renting. How about that?"

Leah grabbed a notepad and jotted down both.

"Wait a minute. That house is next door to mine. How did that happen?"

"Someone in his office suggested the Outer Banks and evidently they stayed there last year and Stephan recommended it to Jason before he died. If you don't like it, take it up with him."

"Giorgio..." Stephan was dead and she didn't believe in séances.

"Jason never takes vacations. Why do you want to talk to him anyway?"

"I told you. Business."

"You're running the company. Can't it wait? You've always made all the decisions. He was never involved."

"Thanks, Giorgio. I promise to keep in touch."

"Wait...wait. Have you read Stephen's letter?"

Leah paused. "Not yet."

"It's been a month. What're you waiting for?"

"I just can't."

"I know it's hard. It's hard for me, too. But read the letter."

"I will." She hung up. She went to the desk and pulled out the envelope, started to open it, then shoved it back and shut the drawer. She wasn't ready. Maybe next week or next month.

Right now she had to focus on the current problem Stephen had created by selling his shares to Jason. Jason was making a major decision that affected her business with the potential to ruin it. She needed to lay down some ground rules.

She punched in the numbers to Jason's cell. It immediately went to voice mail. She asked him to call her and waited an hour for him to return the call. He didn't.

Didn't he know he and his cell phone were supposed to be joined at the hip? She dialed again and again. He didn't answer any of her messages.

Finally at four the next morning, she packed her luggage in her Escalade. Before she drove off she thought of the letter. She went back inside and got it before she started the ten-hour drive—if she were lucky—to Wet Sands, North Carolina, damn it. If he didn't come to her she'd have to go to him.

### ***

### Excerpt

### The Christmas Gift

### by

### Candice Poarch

### Chapter 1

Paradise Island was a picturesque little island near Virginia Beach where tourists frequented and locals praised for its hometown ambience and peacefulness. Of course it hadn't been that peaceful lately with all the murders, and Melinda Easton wished she could get away from the painful memories.

Everywhere she went she saw reminders of her sister. Her temporary bakery was next door to the beauty salon where her sister Vicky had worked. And now it was Christmas, their favorite time of year and her sister wasn't here to share it with her any longer.

"You're a lifesaver, Melinda," Barbara Porterfield said. "Harper was supposed to get the cookies and forgot to tell me. Mrs. Claxton reamed him out."

"Men, they're so forgetful." Melinda's mother, Hortense Easton, stuck her head in the bakery long enough to join the conversation before she went into the back room to finish packing sandwiches. It was her favorite complaint.

"I'm here to make sure he doesn't get on Mrs. Claxton's naughty list." Barbara chuckled. "I miss the convenience of New York's bakeries. Your shop makes it feel more like home." She snagged a cookie. "When I started working on Harper's volunteer projects I thought it was going to be a small thing, but it's taken on a life of its own."

"He's making a huge difference with the kids," Melinda said. The kids were having a Christmas party at the church tonight. Sheriff Harper Porterfield was Barbara's husband and he'd started a successful program for at-risk kids.

"I put a little extra in there. Hope they enjoy it."

"They will. Please keep the bakery open after the New Year." Barbara bit into the cookie and closed her eyes briefly. "Delicious. Merry Christmas," she said and sailed out the door.

If Melinda didn't find another job soon she'd have no choice but to keep the bakery open, provided it made a profit. And it had so far, but this was the busy holiday season.

Another Christmas song played cheerfully on the stereo and Melinda's mother hummed with it as she put her coat on.

"Are you sure you can handle things on your own?" she asked. "I can come back after I drop off the sandwiches if you need me."

"I'll be okay."

"You should hire some help at least until the New Year. It's getting busier every day. I can come back to help you close."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Her mother finally left and Melinda relaxed and glanced around the shop. The customers sitting at the little café tables were enjoying their pastries.

Melinda wiped fingerprints off the display case and glanced up as another customer came in. She pasted a welcoming smile she didn't feel on her face. It felt as if she would crack with the pretense.

A sudden burst of wind pushed the door open and the man grabbed for it, closing it after he came through.

"I hope you have a cake left," Neil Turner said.

"I have chocolate and strawberry."

"Wonderful. The kids will love the strawberry," he said.

"I know I do."

He shivered. "I think we're going to have a white Christmas this year. We don't get snow in Miami."

"I hope we do. It hasn't snowed for the holidays in years," Melinda said as she carefully boxed the cake for him. After he paid for the purchase, he tipped his wool hat and started to the door.

"Merry Christmas."

Suddenly Melinda stopped him. "I've been meaning to call you. The gifts you donated to the children were a wonderful gesture. You've only been here a year, yet you've made enormous contributions."

"I do my best. Someone gave me a leg up."

"I write a community interest article for the local paper. I would like to do an article on you. May I interview you in January? Maybe something on your background. Your high school picture. Extracurricular activities. How you ended up here. And maybe you can talk about the person you mentioned. The one who helped you."

He smiled. "There's nothing exciting about me." He'd bought the town's only diner, the Greasy Spoon, but kept the high-calorie country dishes on the menu.

"But there is."

"If you say so."

"Merry Christmas." Melinda watched him walk to his car.

Melinda had a steady influx of customers and things didn't slow down until twenty minutes before closing. The shop was empty and she started to sweep the floor, but when the bell jingled above the door she glanced up. And dropped the broom on the floor.

Skeeter Jackson was a very attractive man. With his movie-star looks she'd failed to see what was beneath the surface before she was dating him. And then she saw the flaws. That had been three years ago. She hadn't seen him in more than two.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, stooping to pick up the broom. She moved behind the display case, putting some distance between them.

"Aren't you glad to see me? Come on over here and give me a kiss."

"In your dreams."

"I came to see you, sugar."

"Why?" She wasn't his sugar. He couldn't possibly think they would pick up from a relationship that had fizzled out long before he'd left the island.

"I still love you. You know that. You knew I'd be back one day."

"Are you out of your mind? Have you been drinking?"

"Been dry for a year. Things were right with you and me in a way it's never been with anyone else."

Melinda looked at him incredulous. "We fought all the time. It was never right."

"All couples fight."

"Skeeter, I'm not going to let you harass me, because there will never be an us again."

"Okay. I know you're still mixed up about your sister. I was sorry about all that, that I couldn't make it back here for the funeral and to help you. But I'm here now."

"Unless you're here to buy something, please leave." The last thing she needed was Skeeter being his usual pain in the butt.

"You know I don't like you talking to me like that."

"Then leave."

The bell over the door chimed and Reginald Jones walked in. She looked up at broad shoulders that easily filled out his coat. He towered several inches over Skeeter and she was conscious of his movements as he moved toward the display case with athletic grace. The last thing she wanted was Skeeter in the same room with Reginald.

Her heart constricted at the same time it cringed with embarrassment that Skeeter picked now, of all times, to show up. Her eyes raked over him. Goes to show that past mistakes always came back to haunt you.

Reginald's coat was open revealing the perfectly fitting black suit beneath. She'd ended their relationship almost before it started a couple of years ago. Her feelings had not dimmed, but the timing had been wrong. She was filled with grief and misgivings and she didn't have anything to give him. A one-sided relationship rarely functioned well.

Skeeter's facial features were more attractive in contrast. He was just an inch over her five-eight, and slightly unkempt, but Reginald outshone him by a mile with his clean-cut masculine grace.

He nodded. "Skeeter."

"Hey, Reg." Skeeter gave him a dismissive shrug.

"Skeeter was just leaving," Melinda said. If he'd wanted to purchase something he should have done so by now.

"I'm not leaving."

"If she says you're leaving, you're leaving," Reginald said with just enough emphasis that Skeeter's head jerked his way.

"Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?"

"Skeeter, why don't you go home," Melinda said.

"I told you I don't let a woman order me around."

"This one will," Reginald said in a menacing voice. "If you don't go on your own, I'm happy to help you out." Reginald shrugged out of his jacket and placed it across a chair.

Skeeter glanced at Melinda. "I'm going to give you some time to come to your senses. I know we haven't seen each other for a while but I'll be around."

"Stay away from me."

Skeeter started to approach her and Reginald got between them and put a hand in his chest.

"You heard her," he said, motioning toward the door. "Leave."

"You're not always going to be here."

"If you touch a hair on her head, I'll come after you. And you know I will."

Skeeter roared in laughter. "You got a thing for her or something? Thought you were sniffing after Alyssa. But she's married now, isn't she? So you go after her best friend. How sick is that?"

"It's none of your business. You're not wanted here."

"I'll be back," he said. Skeeter finally left, but Melinda knew this wasn't the last she'd see of him. If nothing else, he was persistent. Even when she'd broken the relationship off, he'd made a pest of himself until he left the island.

***

### Descriptions

### A New Year A New Beginning

### by

### Candice Poarch

Adam Somerville's new partner, Amanda Burns, wants to sell her share of the company. He has just finished a new expansion and doesn't have the funds to buy her out. Worse, now that her husband has died he has to deal with the woman he has desired for the last fifteen years.

Amanda dislikes Adam with a passion. He ran the company and forced her husband to work so many hours he became a stranger to their family. Now he wants to run her life and she isn't going to let him. Adam has worked in Africa for the last ten years, but now he's moved close to Amanda in Fairfax, Virginia, where they work side-by-side. She soon develops feelings for him but she doesn't like the attraction at all.

Will Adam be able to convince Amanda they can be a team—in work as well as a relationship or will Amanda force a sale?

### ***

### Family Bonds

### by

### Candice Poarch

Taylor Harrison goes to Seattle to find out why his grandfather's partner tried to murder him. He feels the answer revolves around the older man's desire to keep the much younger Melia Lucas in glitter and money. To get to the bottom of the mystery, he gets close to her. But he soon finds himself ensnared by Melia's charms as much as his grandfather's partner obviously had been. Will he end up a casualty as well?

When Melia's parents died in a murder/suicide eight years ago, she never believed that her father murdered her mother and took his own life, leaving her an orphan and alone. But she doesn't completely trust Taylor, either, although she has fallen for him in a totally unexpected way. As they work together to uncover the truth, they find the two cases are connected and danger lurks around Melia. Will they find the answers in time to save her?

* * *

White Lightning

### by

### Candice Poarch

Clarice Jarrod has it all — well almost. She has the job of her dreams, and she's just purchased a cute little two-bedroom house with loads of character in Nottoway, Virginia. So why is someone terrorizing her? It isn't until strange things begin to happen that she discovers the previous owner operated a whiskey still and was murdered there thirty-five years ago. And someone wants her gone.

One of Nottoway's most eligible and confirmed bachelors, Tylan Chance, sold her the house and feels responsible for the sassy teacher's dilemma. But he quickly finds himself attracted to her. Burned once by a previous marriage, Tylan is cautious of relationships. As he helps Clarice search for the culprit, his resolve is tested in the face of his desire for her.

***

### With This Kiss

### by

### Candice Poarch

When Phoenix Dye returns to Nottoway, Virginia, after an eleven year absence, little did he know that the bothersome triplets who live across the road from him are his children by the only woman he has ever loved.

Karina Wallace once believed in love, too, but all that changed after that one incredible summer spent with Phoenix. He disappeared without a trace, leaving her pregnant and alone. Now he's back and she's torn between telling him the truth or leaving things as they are. She feels Phoenix will only be in town for a short time. Why let the triplets fall in love with him only to be heartbroken when he leaves? But when she is blackmailed, will she be forced to tell him the truth?

***

### Intimate Secrets

### by

### Candice Poarch

### Years ago, Jonathan Blake's fiancée died just before their wedding. No one has been able to capture his heart since. But Jonathan carries a secret that could come back to haunt him.

### Johanna Jones returns to Nottoway, Virginia, to refurbish the stately Nottoway Inn to its former glory. She has had a secret crush on Jonathan since high school and no man has been able to measure up. While danger lurks around them will they able to unlock the key to their hearts?

* * *

### The Last Dance

### by

### Candice Poarch

### At the bachelor auction's fundraising, Shari Jarrod's sister shakes up her boring existence by bidding on and winning the bid for hot detective, Emmanuel Jones. But the last person Shari wants to spend a romantic weekend with is a commitment-phobic playboy. In the midst of solving a crime, will Emmanuel convince Shari there's more to him then meets the eye? And is Emmanuel just the one to get Shari to open up and reveal the secret she has hidden from her family?

### ***

### Beyond Yesterday

### by

### Candice Poarch

Nugget City, a small town in the high desert of Nevada, is heading for extinction, but the mayor is determined to keep the town from turning into one of the state's 300 ghost towns. To save it he brings back Jason Mann, who'd left town under a cloud of suspicion. Will Jason save it, or destroy it?

Allison Cates grew up feeling excluded from her family's heritage. Now that she has inherited everything, she's come back to sell the properties, but she has to help save the town or she could lose everything. Yet a long-held family secret puts her in danger.

Can she and Jason do enough to stave off disaster before it's too late? And will the trouble that caused Jason to leave years ago return with his arrival?

***

