by Marta Perry
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ONLY IRON CONTROL kept Mac from running to the hospital room the next morning. Ridiculous, that it had taken him so long to get where he wanted to be.
But like it or not, he’d had no choice but to do his duty. Lina, despite her protestations, had been detained until Kate could make a statement. Of course she’d called an attorney immediately, who was already making noises about suing for false arrest, among other things.
He knew what he’d seen when he’d first glimpsed those figures in the clearing in the cemetery. Lina had been trying to get Kate to drink. And tests had shown that the bottle of wine had been laced with enough barbiturates to be fatal in combination with the wine. It was the same combination that had killed Jason.
Pushing the door open, he hurried into the room. Allison looked up from her position beside the bed, yawning. Kate lay in the bed, so still it was frightening until he realized she was breathing.
“Here you are at last.” Allison stood and gave him a hug. “Stop looking so worried. She’s going to be all right.”
He moved closer. Kate’s face was relaxed, the lines of stress smoothed out. The hospital gown revealed the yellow-and-purple colors of her bruised head and shoulder.
“She’s had a rough time of it since she came to Laurel Ridge.” He touched the bruise on her shoulder gently.
“So someone will have to make up to her for that,” Allison said tartly. “Any idea who?”
Mac shot her a look. “You’re just meant to be sitting with Kate, not matchmaking.”
“Hey, you did that yourself. I’m just the first one to recognize it.” She waved her phone. “Nick went down for coffee. You want me to tell him to bring you one?”
“Not now.” He sat down next to the bed, his hand clasping Kate’s. “You probably should go home and get some sleep. I’ll get someone else to come in when I have to leave.”
“Your mother’s on her way.” At his glance, she shrugged. “You didn’t think you could keep her away, did you?”
He had to acknowledge the truth of Allison’s words. Mom would be here. Well, at least he’d know someone he trusted was with Kate. He didn’t want her waking up alone.
Even as he thought it, he felt Kate’s hand stir under his. He leaned over her, studying her face. Her eyelids flickered and opened. For a moment her brown eyes were unfocused, and then they turned frightened.
“No, no,” she murmured.
“Kate, it’s all right.” He clasped her hand firmly in both of his. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital. Do you understand? You’re safe.”
The fear faded. Her gaze lingered on his face, and it seemed to him that for the first time, Kate was completely transparent to him, with all her barricades gone. He could only hope that she saw the same when she looked at him.
“Mac.” She said his name softly. Then her brow clouded. “Lina?”
“Safely locked up,” he assured her. “You don’t have to worry about her. It’s over, and you’re safe.”
Her eyes flickered shut. “So tired.”
“I know. You sleep, sweetheart.” It was the first time he’d used an endearment for her, and it felt good. “There will be plenty of time later for talking.”
He watched as her breathing grew deeper and even, her hand relaxing under his.
Plenty of time. He hoped so. But if Kate decided that Laurel Ridge held too many bad memories for her, there might be very little time at all.
* * *
“THERE, ALL SIGNED.” Kate finished affixing her signature to the statement she’d made and handed it across Mac’s desk to him. “Now, please tell me Lina is going to prison for what she did to Jason.”
Mac pulled his chair around the desk so that he sat knee to knee with her. She could read in his face the thing she didn’t want to hear. “She’s going to jail, all right. But I doubt that we can convict her on Jason’s murder.”
“But she did it.” Even knowing the truth of what he was saying, she still had to protest. She wanted Jason’s innocence to be established now and forever.
“Yes, she did. I have no doubt about that. But we can’t prove it. We can, however, prove that she attacked you with murderous intent. You understand, don’t you?”
Kate nodded reluctantly. “I suppose, but I still wanted to see Jason’s name cleared.”
“I know you did.” He reached out toward her tentatively and put his hand over hers. “I wish we could, but the DA refuses to bring a case based on so little evidence when we’ve got two solid charges we can prove.”
“Two?”
“Auditors have combed through the records of the investment company. There was something wrong, all right. Lina has been diverting money from clients’ accounts to her own for nearly two years, as far as they can tell. All the clients were Russ Sheldon’s. I think she wanted to be able to blame him if things went wrong.”
“She didn’t count on Jason finding anything.” Satisfaction went through her at the thought. She wasn’t the one who’d uncovered an embezzler. That had been her little brother.
Mac nodded. “I don’t suppose Lina ever dreamed Bart would bring in an intern. Or that it would be someone as smart as Jason.” His lips quirked. “Bart now says it was Lina who suggested that Jason was responsible. He may just be trying to make himself look better. Lina knew how he’d react.”
“She manipulated all of them.”
“Yes.” Mac pulled something from his pocket. “We found this when we searched her house. Since it won’t be entered into evidence, I thought you should have it.”
It was the silver dragon charm. Kate’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. “She took it. Why would she do that?”
“Looks as if the little ring it attaches to is broken. I’m guessing it came off his key ring at some point that night, and she picked it up. Why she kept it—well, that’s anyone’s guess. You’d need a psychiatrist to answer that one.”
She held the charm against her heart for a moment. The whole story was surprisingly clear in her mind now, and she realized that was because of Jason. Lina had been the shape-shifter of his imagination, the creature playing one side against the other for her own benefit.
Mac frowned. “I should have seen it. If I’d been able to get the story out of Bart or Nikki to begin with...”
He was blaming himself. At one time, she’d have been eager to blame him, too, but she knew better now. She clasped his hand firmly, loving the way his fingers closed over hers in response.
“You couldn’t have,” she said flatly. “Don’t start accepting responsibility for something you couldn’t possibly have known. If it hadn’t been for the video journal, the truth would never have come out.”
“In a sense, Jason brought his own killer to justice. With your help.” Mac seemed to study her face, his gaze lingering on her lips. “And I owe him a vote of thanks, because he brought us together.”
“Mac...” she began, half longing to hear what he was about to say and half-fearful.
“Don’t.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t tell me about how this can’t work, and how you hate cops, and how you can’t take a chance on loving me. Just let me tell you what I feel.”
She started to protest and then folded her lips together, nodding.
Now that he had her attention, Mac hesitated. His fingers moved absently over her hands, caressing her skin and setting up frissons of warmth that rippled across her.
“We haven’t known each other very long,” he said at last. “But I know you. Bone deep. Better than I’ve ever known anyone. And I know I love you. For good. Forever.” He raised his hand, cupping her cheek, and the warmth spread and multiplied. “You can tell me it’s too soon...”
“No,” she said quickly.
“No?” He looked taken aback.
“Even if that comes with Laurel Ridge thrown in?” he asked.
She was making a choice between the adventurous life she’d thought she wanted and a real life with someone who cared for her. Someone with whom she could build the kind of family she and Jason had never had.
She answered him with a question. “Do you think the Laurel Ridge Standard might have space for another staff writer? I’ll cover PTA meetings and parades and Sunday picnics. But I won’t write anything critical of the police chief.”
“I think they might.” Mac rose, pulling her up with him. He held her for a moment, studying her face. “You’re sure it won’t be hard, living here where Jason died?”
“Where Jason lived,” she corrected. “He had a lot of good experiences here, too. And people here will know he was innocent. Jason would be happy, I think.”
The tiny doubt fled from Mac’s face, and he drew her against him. She went eagerly, her arms going around him as she lifted her face for his kiss.
She’d come home. She had no doubts at all. And when Mac’s lips claimed hers, she knew it was going to be better than her wildest imaginings.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from WHEN SECRETS STRIKE by Marta Perry.
GRANDMA’S HOMEMADE NOODLES
Making homemade noodles is a tradition in Pennsylvania Dutch families, and my grandmother’s recipe has been passed on for generations. In fact, I recently taught one of my granddaughters the secret!
Beat together one whole egg and three egg yolks. Add flour, stirring constantly, until a stiff dough forms. Turn the ball of dough out on a well-floured board or waxed paper and knead lightly for a few minutes, working in a little more flour until no longer sticky to the touch. Cover and let rest for fifteen minutes. Then roll out, incorporating more flour as needed, into a very thin circle. It should be about the thickness of a dime. Cover with tea towels and let dry for several hours. Cut into four pieces. Roll up each piece, jelly-roll style. Using a thin, sharp knife, cut into very thin slices. Gently shake out the rounds of dough into strips. Drop the noodles into boiling chicken broth and simmer for twenty minutes. The broth will thicken as it cooks, so stir occasionally to prevent sticking. Do not drain. Just serve as is, broth and all. This may be put on top of mashed potatoes as if it were gravy or served separately as a side dish. The dough is sometimes cut into squares to use in chicken pot pie. Enjoy!
“[A] work of art.”
—Publishers Weekly, starred review, on Where Secrets Sleep
Marta Perry’s stunning Laurel Ridge series will have you on the edge of your seat. Expertly blending elements of mystery and romance along with a riveting storyline, you won’t want to miss a single installment!
In small town Laurel Ridge, not everything is as simple as it appears...
HOW SECRETS DIE
WHEN SECRETS STRIKE
WHERE SECRETS SLEEP
Complete your collection!
“Perry’s story hooks you immediately.”
—RT Book Reviews on Home by Dark
Catch up on your romantic suspense reads with Marta Perry’s thrilling Watcher in the Dark series:
Facing the past can be deadly...
ABANDON THE DARK
SEARCH THE DARK
HOME BY DARK
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When Secrets Strike
by Marta Perry
CHAPTER ONE
BE CAREFUL OUT THERE. Sarah Bitler smiled, thinking of her mother’s familiar goodbye as Sarah had climbed into her buggy this morning. Mammi always said the same thing when any of her family left her sight. She’d really rather they stay safely on the farm, even Sarah, who was nearing thirty and had long since been accepted as a maidal, an old maid, by their Pennsylvania Amish community.
What was there to be careful of on this peaceful back road that wound between Amish and Englisch farms on its way to the town of Laurel Ridge? The route took a bit longer to reach her quilt shop than if Sarah had gone by the main road, but was worth it to keep her mother from worrying.
“Mamm is being a little silly, ain’t so, Molly?” She could talk to her buggy horse out here without fear of being overheard. “There’s not even a storm cloud in the sky today.”
Molly flickered her ears in response to Sarah’s voice and then broke stride. The mare tossed her head, snorting.
“What are you—”
Sarah stopped, seeing a few seconds later what Molly had sensed immediately. Smoke, snaking its way up between the trees ahead of her.
“Someone burning trash, that’s all.” But doubt threaded her words. There was too much smoke for that, surely. Hard on the thought she saw the sparks shooting upward, landing among the trees. Her heart thudded in her chest.
Fire. The one thing that farmers feared most, especially in a dry summer like this one. She slapped the lines, sending the mare surging ahead. She’d have to see for herself what was burning.
Around the next curve in the winding road, the source was visible. Flames licked the back wall of a barn, and smoke billowed upward, fanned by the summer breeze. An unused barn, thank the gut Lord, part of the property belonging to an elderly widow who lived in town. No animals were in danger, at least, but if the fire spread—
Sarah froze for an instant, undecided. Race to the nearest phone to call for help? Or check first in case someone needed help?
A glimpse of the small cottage near the barn decided her. The cottage wasn’t empty—Mrs. Everly let Gus Hill live there in exchange for keeping an eye on the property. Sarah had to be sure he wasn’t in danger.
Turning an unwilling Molly onto the lane, Sarah touched her with the buggy whip, and they bucketed up to the cottage. Sarah jumped down from the buggy seat and raced to the door, her breath coming quickly. If Gus was there, surely he’d have smelled the fire by now. Unless he’d somehow provided himself with a bottle, in which case he could well be passed out and unaware of the danger.
“Gus! Gus Hill! Are you in there?” Sarah pounded on the door, glancing toward the flames that licked at the barn roof. “Gus!” She twisted the knob, and the door swung open.
A quick glance around the two littered rooms told her that wherever Gus was, he wasn’t here. But the barn—
She ran back outside. The fire ate greedily at one corner of the roof, sending a shower of sparks toward the trees. He surely wasn’t in there. He couldn’t be. She should hurry to the nearest phone. But she couldn’t, not without being certain.
Her breath catching, Sarah raced to the barn. The heat radiating from it was terrifying, but she had to look—had to be certain Gus wasn’t in there. She grabbed the hem of her apron and held it over her mouth and nose. Eyes watering, she peered through the open doorway.
Empty—not even any old hay bales to feed the fire. And no crumpled body lying unconscious, either.
A timber crashed, flaming, to the barn floor, sending a trail of fire heading toward her. Sarah spun, fleeing to the buggy, not needing to use the whip to persuade Molly into a gallop. They jolted back down the lane, back around the bend. The Stoltzfus farm, that would be closest, and they had a phone shanty near their barn.
Molly raced up the Stoltzfuses’ lane, heading straight for their barn as if it were her own. Sarah halted the mare at
the phone shanty, stumbled down and grabbed the receiver, hitting 911. By the time she’d gasped out the information to the emergency dispatcher, Ben Stoltzfus was running toward her from the barn, followed by three of his sons, while his wife, Miriam, hurried from the house, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“Was ist letz, Sarah? What’s wrong?” Ben grasped her arm.
A fit of coughing seized her, and she could only point.
“Ach, how did we not smell it? Fire—the old Everly barn, ja?”
Sarah nodded, catching her breath. “I spotted it when I was passing. The sparks...” She didn’t need to explain the danger to Ben. He was already turning to his sons.
“Buckets and shovels into the wagon, quick. We must keep the fire from spreading until the fire truck gets here.”
Wide-eyed, the boys ran to obey. Ben raced for the paddock and his buggy horse.
Miriam had reached Sarah by then and wrapped her arm around her. “You’re all right? Komm, let me see. You didn’t burn yourself?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” A cough interrupted the words. “Just need a drink of water, I think.”
“For sure. Into the house, now.” Miriam glanced to the oldest of her daughters. “Emma, go and call the neighbors. Tell them the Everly barn is burning. Quick!”
Ten-year-old Emma paled, but she bolted to the phone shanty.
Suddenly weak in the knees, Sarah was grateful for Miriam’s arm around her as they headed for the farmhouse. Miriam, like any Amish mammi, clucked and comforted and scolded all at once as she gently shoved Sarah onto a kitchen chair and then set a glass of water in front of her.
“You rest a minute. I’ll start coffee. Lucky I have a couple of jugs of lemonade I can take over, too. The firefighters will need a drink.”
Sarah nodded, accepting Miriam’s automatic assumption that they would provide what was needed. It was what neighbors did.
“Maybe take drinking water, as well. I don’t know what the water source is over there.”