“Here,” Billy said, voice low, as he grabbed his cup of water and popped a straw into it. He held it up to Mara and she drank a few sips.
“Thanks,” she said. “My mouth was really dry.”
Billy put the water down on the table and sat on the edge of the bed to face her. He couldn’t help but smile. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“I didn’t want you to move,” Mara said, giving her own smile. “You two were so cute.”
Billy glanced back at Alexa and felt a bit sheepish.
“I tried to braid her hair,” he explained. “It looked better yesterday.”
Mara’s brow furrowed. She looked around the room and then down at herself.
“How bad is it?” she whispered.
Billy felt his smile falter.
“You’re expected to fully recover. But...” Billy let his hand hover over her chest. The doctor said there’d be a scar there but she’d been damned lucky. The second woman to get the same diagnosis in a week on his watch. “There were a few close calls to get you there.”
Billy felt the pain and fear and anguish he’d experienced when Mara had flatlined twice in the ambulance. He’d nearly lost his mind with worry as he’d paced outside surgery afterward.
“I’m okay now, then,” Mara said softly. She reached out and patted the top of his hand. Billy realized that, even though she was the one in the hospital bed, she was trying to comfort him.
It made his smile come back and he finally did something he should have done two years before. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small box. He held it up to Mara. Her eyes widened.
“I always thought I’d do something elaborate and romantic when I proposed to you but dammit, Mara, I can’t wait anymore.” Billy opened the box. He’d tell her later that he’d bought her the ring two years before, but for now he had to tell her what he wanted in the future. “You don’t have to marry me now, tomorrow or even next year, but Mara Copeland, I sure do need you to be my wife.” He took the ring out and held it up. “Marry me and let’s grow old together?”
Mara’s expression softened. Those beautiful lips turned up into the smallest of smiles. When she answered, Billy couldn’t help but laugh.
“Sounds good to me, Sheriff.”
* * *
THE CHRISTMAS TREE was going to fall over. Its branches hung down with the weight of too many ornaments, half from Billy’s childhood and the others they’d bought together for Alexa. At the time, Mara had been more than happy to fill their cart with bits and bobbles, but now she was worried the sheer weight of them all was going to kill their tree. Even if it was fake.
“Personally, I think it looks amazing.”
Mara turned and smiled. Billy was grinning ear to ear. “I’m sure everyone at the party is going to be jealous that their trees aren’t as great as this one.” He opened his arms wide, motioning to the tree. Mara caught sight of the wedding band on his finger. It made her glance at hers before answering him. The sight made her feel a warmth spread through her. Every single time.
“That their trees weren’t as good,” she corrected him. “You know, considering it’s the end of February and no one has decorations up anymore. Or are celebrating Christmas.”
Billy waved his hand dismissively.
“I wasn’t about to let my first Christmas with my girls go by without a proper celebration,” he said, defiance in his voice. Billy sidled up beside her and placed his arm around her waist. “Plus, I think we deserve a pass to do that, don’t you?”
Mara’s smile grew.
It had been almost three months since Mara had woken up in the hospital. In that time, several things had happened. The first was that she’d learned Christmas had come and gone while she’d been unconscious. Claire had still taken the day to shower her in gifts and love, but Billy had told everyone that he’d wait until the three of them could celebrate together. As a family.
The idea of their first Christmas together had made her cry, which had, in turn, alarmed the sheriff, but she’d promised they were tears of happiness. Something she realized she’d always feel after Suzy, of all people, had been ordained and married them on the back porch of Billy’s house. It had been a short and sweet ceremony. Claire had cried while holding Alexa, while Detective Walker and Captain Jones had been the official witnesses.
Since then, life had moved quickly. Mara quit her job, broke her lease and together with off-duty sheriff’s department employees, Billy and she had moved all of her belongings into the Reed family home.
While she felt the love from the department, a part of Mara had been more than worried that the residents of Carpenter wouldn’t ever accept her because of who she was. Especially after the news that she and Billy had a child had traveled through the town like wildfire. However, so far no one had said a rude thing to her. And if they even looked like they were thinking about it, Leigh Cullen would puff up, ready to point out that Mara had died—twice if you counted her heart stopping—to save her son, and if they didn’t like her they’d have to deal with Leigh. She’d only used that speech once on a man who hadn’t meant any disrespect, but Mara couldn’t deny it made her feel good that Leigh didn’t seem to hold any more animosity toward her. In fact, while Mara had been in the hospital, Leigh had visited her almost every day.
They’d talked about the serious things first—the sorrys and thank yous for anything and everything that had happened—and then moved on to the personal sides of who they were. It turned out Leigh had been wanting to start her own business—something creative and hands-on—but hadn’t found a worthwhile fit. When she found out that Mara had wanted to start up an interior design shop, Leigh had decided that not only could they be friends but they could be business partners, too.
Once Mara was out of the hospital, Leigh proved to have meant every word she’d said. They were already working up the design for an office space downtown. It wasn’t large, but it was a start. One Mara was looking forward to. One that her father also praised in a letter. Mara didn’t know what their particular future held, especially concerning Alexa, but she couldn’t deny she missed her father. They’d agreed to start writing to each other. It, too, was a new start.
Which left one last, life-altering decision that had surprised them. Tough-as-nails, sweet-as-honey Claire Reed. Instead of going back home, she’d pulled a Mara and sold her house, instead.
“I’ve been bored in retirement anyways,” she’d told them one night at supper. “Plus, now that I have a grandbaby, you won’t be able to keep me away.” She was currently living in the guesthouse but promised she was looking for a place of her own. Though Mara had to admit, it was nice having someone to help with Alexa when she and Billy wanted some alone time.
Which was just as much fun as she’d remembered.
Mara sighed, the warmth of the man next to her seeping into her heart. It made his gaze shift downward.
“Who would have thought that we’d really end up together?” Mara mused.
“I knew we would,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“You have to admit, it was quite the journey,” she said. “Ups and downs and bad men with guns. Not to mention your mother.”
Billy let out a hoot of laughter.
“I hadn’t seen that one coming,” he admitted. “But...”
Mara let out a small yelp of excitement as Billy spun her around. His lips covered hers in a kiss that she’d never forget. When it ended, he stayed close.
“But, as for us, I always knew we’d be here eventually,” he whispered, lips pulling up into his famous smirk. It was a sight she was ready to see every day for the rest of her life. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Reed.”
Mara didn’t miss a beat.
“Merry Christmas, Sheriff.”
* * * * *
Look for THE DEPU
TY’S WITNESS,
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THE PROTECTORS OF RIKER COUNTY,
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FULL FORCE FATHERHOOD
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SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITIES
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Shadows in the Night
by Heather Graham
Prologue
The Mummy
A Year Ago
“Sir!”
The word was spoken softly and with respect.
Dr. Henry Tomlinson, renowned Egyptologist, turned. One of the grad students had just slipped through the inner flap of the air-controlled prep tent and was smiling benignly, awaiting his attention.
He hadn’t actually taught in about five years, but he still loved it—and working with students. He’d retired to spend all his time in the field, and he’d recently been hired by Alchemy, an Anglo-American sponsoring company, to head this dig. Alchemy was into all kinds of tech and had become a Fortune 500 company. Every year, they sponsored an exceptional archeological event, followed by a public exhibit. Recent ones had been centered around the Amazon River, central China—and now ancient Egypt. Their resources were phenomenal and Henry still couldn’t believe his good fortune. But no matter what monetary resources had been offered, he was thrilled about having grad students involved.
This one was Harley Frasier. Just twenty-six, she was tall, shapely, honey blonde, with a face crafted in perfect classic symmetry and enormous green eyes that seemed to take in everything. She was serious and brilliant and could nail the crux of information with laser-like acuity. She also had a sense of humor and the most delightful laugh he had ever heard.
Of the five specialty graduate candidates, she was, beyond a doubt, his favorite. He often felt like a grandfatherly mentor to her—and the idea made him happy. He’d had no children of his own. He’d never even had a wife. No time for a family. He hadn’t intended it be that way forever, but there was always so much to do. If he’d had the chance to be a father, he would’ve been pleased and proud to have had Harley as a granddaughter. She seemed to feel the same closeness to him.
Perhaps their bond was odd since, of the five grad students, she was the one who was different, the only one not majoring in Egyptology—though she was minoring in it. She had no plan to go into Egyptology or even archeology or history for her life’s vocation.
Harley was with him, first of all, because of her knowledge regarding the field and her love for it. But she was also there because her work was going to be in criminal psychology and forensic science. Henry had been baffled when he was approached by her university. Professors at the Maryland college Harley was attending—which was arguably the top school for criminology and it also offered majors and minors in Egyptology and archeology—had explained to him the importance of having a student like Harley on this expedition. He had been on the hunt for the tomb of Amenmose for nearly a decade; for that entire decade, he’d been finding more and more clues about the location—and, of course, with the permission and blessing of the Egyptian government—finding other ancient tombs and treasures in the process. This allowed for his continued excavations. But the discovery of the tomb of Amenmose was the main focus of his work.
Many others had searched.
Some of them had died or disappeared in that effort.
History suggested that Amenmose had been murdered. As a criminology student, Harley was to be in on the discovery and would seek and find whatever evidence those who had managed his secret burial might have left behind.
Not that, to Henry’s mind, Amenmose hadn’t deserved murder. He had usurped power every step of the way. He’d abused officials below him. It had even been intimated that he had attempted to kill those in power above him.
“I think we’ve gotten all the manual labor done for the evening and we’re going to pack it in, maybe drive to that little town for some dinner. Want to come with us? You should. You’d enjoy it. Or shall we bring you back something?” Harley asked him.
“Next time, Harley, I’ll come with you all,” he promised. “There’s so much in here! I’m not going to go touching anything until we’ve had a chance to work with the preservation measures, but I do intend to look at everything.”
Earlier that week, they had finally discovered the secret site of the tomb of Amenmose. And, of course, since then, Henry Tomlinson had been on cloud nine. This was a dream come true, a fantasy realized, the culmination of a lifetime of love and dedication.
Harley laughed softly. “Yes! You did it, Dr. Tomlinson.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
The Amenmose find was among the most important ancient Egyptian discoveries of the past few years; he couldn’t have been more excited about being a major player in that discovery. And even now, at the end of an exhausting day—and even though he truly enjoyed the young people working with him—he was far too fascinated to leave. There were a dozen or so coffins to be studied, one of them presumably that of Amenmose; the group wouldn’t consider opening them until everyone was back at the museum in Cairo. But he could study the canopic jars they’d found thus far. There were also other artifacts that had been carefully moved into the prep tent. So much to observe and to describe! And there were the broken coffins, which had probably been as meticulously set as any of the others, but had been in the section where a partial cave-in had taken place. Several of those outer and inner coffins had split and exposed their mummies. Henry Tomlinson was fascinated to see what study was possible before the mummies were packed and crated and prepared for the trip to Cairo, where options for preservation were far more sophisticated, and where the mummies could be X-rayed and DNA could be tested.
Oh! It was all so monumental.
Amenmose had been a priest in the days when another priest, Ay, had ruled Egypt as regent. Ay had done so for a well-known pharaoh, the boy king, Tutankhamen. As regent, Ay had wielded immense power. He’d gone on to become pharaoh in his own right—after the death of Tut at the age of nineteen.
Amenmose,
according to ancient texts, had tried to usurp some of that power. And he’d had his own followers in the court, making him a dangerous man. Because of this he had feared for his immortal life—and his wife had kept his burial plans a complete secret, shared only with members of his family. Naturally, legend had it that many of his most loyal followers—rather than give away any secrets—had been willing to die with him, sealed alive in a grave for eternity.
“Dr. Tomlinson, you worked so hard. And wow! You triumphed. You should celebrate. Come out with us. Is there nothing I can do to convince you?” Harley asked. She still had that wonderful smile, as if she were the one who was far older and wiser. “Nothing’s going to disappear. We’ll go have some dinner and drinks and come on back. There are plenty of men on guard here. And,” she added, “you really deserve a little celebration with us. Think of it—you researched and imagined and looked into the ancient Egyptian mind and you made the discovery. It’s your shining moment. You’re another Carter with his Tutankhamen, Dr. Tomlinson. Do you realize that?”
“Oh, no, no,” Henry demurred. He shook his head firmly. “A celebration is tempting, but I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t. I do promise that I’ll come with all of you on another day. Harley! Look at this! I feel like, as the song says, I have treasures untold.”
Harley laughed. “You saw The Little Mermaid?” she asked.
He stared at her, feeling a bit chagrined. “Oh! Yes, I get it, you wouldn’t think that I’d see a children’s movie...” He laughed, too. “Remember, I do have great nieces and nephews! Anyway...”
He started walking as he spoke. “Harley, these are such treasures! This broken coffin.” He gestured at it. “Damaged by time and by that cave-in, however many centuries ago. And this fellow, Harley. It almost looks as if he was buried alive. Wrapped up alive and screaming.”
“I don’t think you can embalm anyone and have that person come out of the process alive,” Harley reminded him, amused. “That’s only in fiction. We both know what was involved in Egyptian embalming, and just how many factors could’ve had an effect on the mummy’s appearance. Screaming mummies belong to B movies, right? And when you think about it, weird mummies are all the more reason you should come with us.”
Small-Town Face-Off Page 19