Table of Contents
Excerpt
Small Town Secrets
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing
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“What are you doing here?” Mac stepped out of the old train tunnel into the warm fall sun, closer to her. Her musky scent reminded him of the woods, cool and inviting.
“I followed you here to get some closure.”
“You could have answered my letters,” he said. “That might have given us both closure.” And we wouldn’t be here wondering where we stand.
“Letters?”
She couldn’t fake her dumbfounded expression. “I never got letters. You took me to the dance on a dare. You used me. I thought if I could just tell you…”
“What?”
“That I ha—” She sighed. “I can’t even tell you how much I hate you. I’m so stupid.”
In the next heartbeat, she was in his arms, her entire body against his.
“It was a dare. But it became more.” He leaned down and kissed her. Not gently. Not forceful. Just needful. It felt good, right.
She slipped away. “I will not fall for you again. Stay away from me.”
He let her go. “Ask your parents about my letters, Lizzy.”
She paused enough to let him know his words hit her. Then she got into her car and left.
Mac noticed the insects in the woods over his left shoulder grew quiet. He heard the sound of a twig breaking. He was on instant alert, ready with his gun in his hand. Someone was there.
Watching them.
Small Town Secrets
by
Allie Harrison
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Small Town Secrets
COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Allie Harrison
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Kim Mendoza
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Crimson Rose Edition, 2018
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2212-4
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2213-1
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To the staff and physicians of the Belleville Surgery Center. It has been an honor to work beside you giving excellent patient care. I will miss you.
Prologue
Eleven years ago/near Marston’s Tunnel
Soft light from the truck’s dashboard cast an eerie glow over Lizzy Signorino’s purple sequin-covered dress, adding radiance to her olive-tanned skin. A song spilled from the radio, telling of being barely seventeen and barely dressed fit the bill.
Not really, James McLane thought. Known as Mac to all his friends, he was more than barely seventeen. He’d be eighteen at Christmas. And both he and Lizzy were still dressed. Even though he’d brought her to Mossy Point’s version of Inspiration Point with high hopes they wouldn’t be for much longer. After more than a half hour of kissing beneath little more than the glow of the radio lights on the dash, he’d hardly made it to first base.
At least she liked to kiss. And she did it well, despite the metal on her teeth. Her kiss could be enough. He just wished for more. Was there any harm in that?
Mac didn’t think so.
He’d finally coaxed her to straddle his lap. She felt good on him. If he could just wish his slacks and belt away…
Her lips were soft and perfect. She tasted of chocolate and mint. Nice. Good. Making him hunger for more. She had a leg on each side of his; he rested a hand on each of her perfect calves. Smooth, soft muscle, firm. He wanted to touch her everywhere. With eyes closed, his mouth moving on hers, he slid his hands up her legs from ankles to knees. Just a few inches more and he could slip up and touch her thighs.
Then he would be that much closer to the heat he felt through the material of his slacks. He still couldn’t believe he was here with her. This close; almost to a point where he could slide his hands up the skirt of her beautiful dress.
He almost felt dirty parking with her out near the old train tunnel, known as Marston’s Tunnel. It was where all the local teenagers parked. It was where he’d taken Kelly Mattis.
But damn, he wanted to be alone with Lizzy. He wanted her all to himself. At the dance, he’d seen all the other guys—his teammates—ogling her. He’d also noticed how most of the girls, including Kelly Mattis, his date from last year’s prom, looked ready to kill him, too. Wanting to avoid the bitch, who’d chosen to wear a slinky hot pink number, he held Lizzy closer as they danced slow.
The effort wasn’t fast enough. He had seen the hate in Kelly’s eyes.
Now, he concentrated on the girl on his lap.
Who wasn’t like any other girl he’d ever been with.
Mac managed to slide his right hand up her thigh. So many sensations at once…
The pressure and heat and sweetness of her kiss.
The silkiness of the dress material on the back of his hand.
Soft, warm skin beneath his palm.
Lace against his fingertips.
He wondered what color her panties were. Purple to match the dress? Flesh tone to blend in? White, which would in no way be boring on her? Pink, because he was pretty certain every girl owned a pair of pink panties?
His heart raced in his chest, and he moaned into her kiss. He was pretty sure he was touching a little piece of heaven.
The song on the radio ended. Had the guy in the song gotten lucky and slid into home plate? He couldn’t remember. What he did remember was a saying his dad had told him once. “Enjoy the journey as much as the destination.”
He certainly was.
The new song was something slower.
Seeming to keep pace with it, he ended his kiss and leaned back. Her face was shadowed.
His right hand refusing to leave the heat of her thigh, he cupped her face with his left. Wow, she was soft everywhere he touched. “You’re beautiful.”
He couldn’t see it in the shadows, but he’d bet his paycheck he earned baling hay that she blushed. He felt the heat where he touched her cheek. The late-night fall breeze smelled of dry leaves and blew the trees surrounding the tunnel. Speckles of moonlight danced about the truck like a kaleidoscope. Lizzy smiled. He wished time could stop right here, right now, so he could stay with her like this. It was an odd feeling, not needing to find out what secrets she held und
er her panties. In a very short matter of time, she had become too important to him for that. There was more to her, so many layers he wanted to explore.
“In case I forget to tell you,” she murmured, “I had a really nice time tonight.”
“Me, too.”
He leaned forward to kiss her again, but she tensed suddenly and her gasp made him forget about the kiss. “What?”
“I saw a light coming from the Tunnel.”
She leaned closer, peering over his shoulder. He felt her breasts flattened against his chest as she leaned closer, trying to see. It was nice, but her next words doused the fire inside him. “There was a light. And I saw someone. I think it was a man.”
The fear in her voice sent a chill through him. No one he knew ventured into Marston’s Tunnel. Not anymore. The place was creepy. Years ago, probably before he was born, the train tracks had been removed as far as the entrance. The brick mouth of the tunnel was old and moist. Moss and unidentifiable vegetation grew out from between the bricks, adding to the creepy feeling. The talk he’d heard all his life living in Mossy Point was that the place was haunted, that when trains entered one end, they never come out the other.
And that people did the same.
The fact that Lizzy saw a person and a light sent a chill through him.
He shifted, staring toward the tunnel, trying to see through the darkness. There was nothing but dancing shadows and pitch black where he knew the opening of the tunnel sat waiting. He stared hard, waiting, almost willing there to be something more.
Then he saw it, too.
Just a flash. But he recognized it.
Someone switched on a flashlight. Just for half a heartbeat. On…off.
Whomever it was allowed a quick bit of light to pave the way. Did Mac see a dark shape of a person in that brief peek of light? He thought so.
Regretfully, he slid Lizzy off his lap and onto the bench seat beside him. He fought down another shiver, but he didn’t know if it was from the sudden cool that hit him with the loss of her heat, or the fact someone besides them was there. Hell, with the way their focus had been on each other for the last half hour, whomever it was could have been watching them through the window of his truck, and they wouldn’t have noticed.
He grasped the door handle, but her hand on his leg stopped him like a sprinter skidding in soft gravel. She leaned over him and locked the door. “No. We don’t know if anyone’s even out here. Why would someone go into the tunnel in the middle of the night?”
He should have had the doors locked anyway. His dad was the Chief of Police. He knew better than anyone no one was safe anywhere.
“You’re right.” He thought for a long moment. He locked the other door, too, although it was clear no one was out that direction. Whomever it was, was there in the tunnel. “I need to call my dad and let him know someone was in the tunnel.”
“No. Take me home first.”
“I can’t do that, Lizzy. Whomever it is will be long gone. And my dad would want to know someone was out here in the middle of the night.”
“Your dad will know we were here,” she argued. “Besides, maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just someone walking home who decided to take a short cut.”
“No one takes a short cut through Marston’s Tunnel. Who would be walking home this time of night? And where would they be coming from?” He took her hand. “It’ll be okay. I gotta tell him. If something happened and I didn’t tell him—it would be worse. He’ll believe me when I tell him we didn’t do anything more than kiss. It’ll be okay.”
He used the speed dial function on his phone to call home. Both of them watched the tunnel for more light, any other activity. He saw none.
His dad answered his cell. “You okay, son?”
“We’re okay, but…”
“Did your truck break down?”
Mac knew the sound of worry in his father’s voice. “No, but…”
Hell, he might as well get it over with. “First of all, I want to tell you that nothing happened. I mean nothing with Lizzy. She and I are up at Marston’s Tunnel. All we did was kiss. I promise.” That wasn’t so bad, he thought and let out the breath he’d been holding. “But we just saw a light and a guy down in the tunnel.”
“Both you and Lizzy are okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are your doors locked?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you facing in a direction so you can leave in a hurry?”
“Yeah.”
“Start your truck, keep your eyes open. If you see anything else, you get the hell out of there. I’m on that side of town and on my way. ETA three minutes.”
It amazed him how authoritative his dad sounded.
Mac started the truck. “Got the truck started.”
“Good.”
“Are we leaving?” Lizzy asked after Mac shut down the phone.
“Not yet. My dad will want to know where we were and where we saw the light. We’ll leave if we see anything or anyone else.”
It was a long three minutes. Mac let out another long-held breath when the headlights of his dad’s police car shone through the trees of the winding road leading to where he and Lizzy were parked. The siren was off, but the rotating lights on the roof bar reflected off the leaves of the trees. He heard Lizzy’s intake of breath when a second set of headlights and more flashing lights followed. Unsurprised, Mac knew how his dad worked. He wouldn’t come alone. He’d always have backup, even if the something turned out to be a false alarm. It was probably his deputy Tyson. Mac was pretty certain Tyson was on duty on Saturday nights.
His dad parked so his headlights shone into the mouth of the dragon.
Mac opened the door and climbed out, standing beside his truck, leaving the door open in case he needed to jump back in in a hurry. Lizzy slid out beside him.
Tyson, or whomever it was, drove alongside the chief’s car and parked so double lights flooded the tunnel.
Again, he heard Lizzy’s gasp. Her face was still hidden in the shadows, but the light reflected in her green eyes. Mac followed her gaze into the Marston’s Tunnel. For the first time, with the tunnel all lit up, he saw the bricks that created the mouth were dark gray with age. The tunnel itself wasn’t long, perhaps the length of an average city block. Four bright beams were enough to funnel through to the opposite end.
The high beams touched on something.
Something hot and neon pink.
Mac’s gut twisted. Kelly Mattis had worn a dress that color to the dance. He hadn’t seen any other girl in the same color. Of course not. Girls talked among themselves. Everyone would know what the “popular” girls planned to wear to the big dance, and no one would dare to wear the same color.
Dear God, was that a splotch of red covering the bright pink material?
Lizzy was suddenly in his arms. He didn’t want to look. He just wanted to hold her. Couldn’t they just go back to ten minutes ago?
No.
It was a life-altering moment for James McLane. One that would haunt him and be the object of nightmares for many nights to come.
Chapter One
Almost eleven years later.
Monday
Mac stepped off his parents’ back porch and stopped to take in the beauty of the orchard that made him feel like a boy again. From the trees flourishing with fruit and rustling in the breeze to the ruts from tractor tires that marked a path to follow to the aroma of apples growing beneath the warmth of a fall morning. He took in a deep breath and smiled. This is the smell of home.
He saw his dad, the former Chief of Police Robert McLane, a short distance away, out strolling amongst rows of trees, checking the apples in the orchard he’d planted back when Mac was a little boy. Robert had always wanted an orchard; it seemed like the perfect thing for him to pursue after retirement.
“Good morning, son. Did you sleep well?”
“The loft apartment you put up there is perfect.”
Ozzie, his parents’ go
lden retriever, cantered over to greet Mac, who spent a few seconds giving the faithful dog a good scratch under his chin and on his belly.
As he petted the dog Mac realized his dad seldom called him by his first name. Even that night when he’d had to call and say he and Lizzy were at Marston’s Tunnel—and he was certain his dad damn sure knew what he had in mind when he took Lizzy there—his father said, “Both you and Lizzy are okay, son?”
The next morning, after what had obviously been a long night of filling out reports and calling in the Major Crime Squad, his dad gave him something close to a hug.
Now, Mac greeted him with the same. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I love everything about this orchard. The air smells cleaner. I can feel the trees soaking up the sunshine.”
His dad grinned. “It’s my favorite place, too. And it’s doing well. We had a great crop of peaches this summer. You should have seen the giant strawberries, too.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Checking the apples. We have a bumper crop of those, too, this year. Which is good, since I have bales of straw set up in a maze. In the next few weeks we’ll be inundated with school kids here on field trips to pick apples. After that, it’ll be pumpkins. I don’t get many to grow well, so I always have truckloads delivered.”
Keeping pace with Robert, Mac admired his dad’s hard work as they strolled down rows of trees bursting with perfect, spotless apples. Ozzie’s tail thumped against his leg as the dog loped beside him for a moment before he sauntered off to sniff something under a nearby tree. Retirement was obviously a good thing for his dad. Against his white T-shirt, Robert looked tanned and healthy from working outdoors. The only thing to reveal his age was the salt and pepper strands threading his dark hair. To Mac, he sounded much more at ease now than he ever had as chief.
“How’s the leg?” his dad asked.
“Getting better every day, especially if I don’t give it a chance to stiffen up.”
“Good.” Robert picked an apple, rubbed it against his shirt, and took a bite. “Your mother didn’t get much sleep when we heard what happened.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I never meant to worry either of you.”
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