When Noonday Ends: A Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel - Nantahala - Book Two

by Carmen DeSousa

  When Noonday Ends

  Southern Romantic Suspense

  (Nantahala ~ Book Two)

  by

  Carmen DeSousa

  When Noonday Ends

  A Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel

  (Nantahala ~ Book Two)

  Copyright© 2014 by Carmen DeSousa

  www.CarmenDeSousa.com

  PO Box 2103

  Palm Harbor, FL 34682-2103

  U.S.A.

  Cover Design by Viola Estrella: http://estrellacoverart.com/

  This is a fictional work. All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by any means, without the prior permission in writing, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles.

  For any other permission, please email Ann at Contact@CarmenDeSousa.com.

  To my readers…

  Thank you for giving me the idea for this story. Thanks to all of you, this is one of my favorite mysteries.

  From the Author…

  Although most of my stories in the Southern Romantic-Suspense Collection share connections, I’d never intended on sequels.

  Most of my books have come to me in a moment’s notice. I’ll be going about my business, and then, BAM, a character, whom I haven’t met yet, whispers sweet nothings into my ear about how they’ll be the best character ever, do exactly as I say, and make readers laugh, cry, hope, scream, and fall in love. And yes, I’m a pushover, as I believe them every time. Well, not all of them make it into the next book, because some of them don’t live up to their promises.

  In the case of Land of the Noonday Sun, like all my books, I set up a multiple choice of characters who could’ve ‘dunit’, so to speak. When I start writing, I never know ‘whodunit’; I just write and write, and wait until the characters reveal themselves.

  In many of my stories, I tend to use my weakest link, and make that character the hero. If you’ve read She Belongs to Me, Entangled Dreams, and Land of the Noonday Sun, look back at which character actually saved the day, or was the first-wave to save the day; they were the least likely candidate.

  Imagine my surprise when my avid-reading friends called foul on one of the supporting characters from Land of the Noonday Sun, Tom Turner. To me, Tom was a spoiled rich kid who always got what he wanted and didn’t have a problem taking what he wanted.

  So, I looked back at his character development throughout the book and agreed: yes, you’ve grown, Tom. I might be able to work with you.

  If you haven’t read Land of the Noonday Sun, you don’t have to; this is a stand-alone story. However, you will not enjoy the mystery part of Land of the Noonday Sun if you read When Noonday Ends first.

  And so, without further ado, I give you recently graduated law student, Tom Turner.

  Happy reading!

  Carmen

  Prologue

  Sitting at the rear of the courtroom, Tom Turner’s mind wandered.

  One person after another approached the judge, claiming their innocence. He hated doing this, but the law firm where he worked required all new attorneys to accept hardship cases. To get your feet wet, they’d said.

  Like his father before him, he’d chosen a career as an attorney. And for once in his life, his parents were actually proud of him.

  Still, most attorneys spent their days off golfing. He couldn’t stand golf, but he’d give anything to be kayaking right now. Often, he thought of changing careers, as his best friend had done. Chad had thrown away four years of medical school to manage an outdoor store he’d inherited from his parents. Tom had always thought that it had been a stupid decision, but now he wondered. His best friend was married to a beautiful woman, had a son, and could kayak every day if he wanted.

  What Tom really wanted was to take a few months off from life and hike the Appalachian Trail. After the year he’d had, he needed some time away from life—all life.

  But then, his parents would be disappointed, and he’d miss his niece, Samantha. His sister had been one of the wildest women he’d ever known. But since she’d had Sam, she’d finally settled down and was trying to be a good mother. Being a single mother wasn’t easy, and Michelle needed him. If only to give her at least one night a week to unwind.

  Tom threw his head back and closed his eyes. Just the smell of the courthouse was grating on him today. The oil they’d used on the old wooden floors was giving him a migraine.

  “No contest, Your Honor.” A soft country voice roused him from his brooding.

  Tom forced his eyes to focus on the woman standing in front of the judge. It couldn’t be. The smooth blond hair, that beautiful country voice. Brandy? He shook his head to clear it. Brandy was dead; he’d shot her more than a year ago.

  Chapter One

  “You did what?” Michelle spat. “Tom, what’s wrong with you?”

  Tom sat at the kitchen table, bouncing Samantha on his knee. “You don’t have to yell. You’re not in the military anymore, you know.”

  Michelle scraped a chair across the floor and sat down across from him. “I don’t understand. It’s taken you a year to get over that psycho. And now you’ve taken on a case because the woman looked and sounded like her.” His older sister shook her head, clearly disappointed. Of course, that was nothing new.

  Tom ignored Michelle’s attitude. As though she were one to talk. She’d been so infatuated with his best friend that she’d gone out and slept with the first guy she met who looked like Chad after he got married, and then she’d ended up pregnant. As much as Tom derided that action, he never complained about the result. Samantha had given him a reason to live after he’d had to shoot his fiancée. His niece was the one person who could do no wrong, and he’d vowed to help Michelle raise her.

  “You want to go outside with Uncle T.T., Sam? Get away from your mother for a while,” he cooed at the little girl. She nodded and crawled out of his lap, toddling across the floor.

  Tom gathered his phone and keys off the table, pushed the chair back, and stood. “I didn’t take the case because she looked or sounded like Brandy. I took the case because she would have ended up with a public defender if I hadn’t, and the firm wants me to accept a pro-bono case.”

  “But she tried to kill her husband.” Michelle threw up her hands. “Sounds a lot like another psycho-hardship case if I ever heard one.”

  “First of all, no one knew Brandy was crazy, even you. You’d had dinner with her the same night she tried to kill me.” Tom picked up Sam, tossed the strap of her diaper bag over his shoulder, and walked toward the front door. “It’s a good case. High profile. Exactly what the firm wants me to take.”

  Michelle crossed the room and kissed him on the cheek. “Be careful, little brother. I don’t want to see you hurt again is all.” She kissed Sam on the nose and gave her a squeeze. “Bye, baby. Have fun with Uncle Tom-Tom. I’ll see you later.”

  “K, Mama.”

  Tom kissed Michelle on the forehead. “And you’re only older by three years. It’s not as though you have a decade on me. Which reminds me…” he trailed off, grinning. “Thirty in a few weeks, huh? How do you—” She punched him in the arm. “Ow! Dang, Michelle. You’re not like regular women. Your punches h
urt. No wonder you don’t have—” He cut off his words when she raised her fist again. “Got it. No thirtieth surprise party and no smart-aleck remarks about your lack of love interests.”

  “Get out, Tom. Thank you for taking Samantha.” She pushed him outside and slammed the door behind him.

  Tom buckled Sam in her car seat, walked around the front of his BMW, then sunk down in the leather seat.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror at Sam. “I didn’t take the case because she looked like Brandy, I swear.”

  His greatest reason for living just smiled and tugged on her toys attached to the seat.

  He hadn’t, had he? Brandy was the first woman he’d ever loved. Or at least he thought he loved her. They’d known each other for six years, since she’d started working at the ROCK. He’d only been nineteen when he’d gotten the job at the outdoor center as a whitewater guide. He missed those days. Everything had changed so drastically in his life. He’d been a fun-loving college kid. Working at the ROCK had provided him not only with getting paid to do the thing he loved most in life, kayaking, but he’d also been able to meet a different hot woman daily.

  Despite Chad’s rules against dating clientele, he’d had a different date every night through summer vacations and college breaks. He’d never propositioned the women, but he’d never ignored their suggestion of where they would be later in the evening. Usually after a day of whitewater rafting, the college kids would head up to Cherokee for gambling and dancing. And it just so happened that Chad and he ended up there as well.

  After his friend spent the evening dancing with the ladies, getting them hot and bothered, and then leaving, Tom would end up taking them home. Until Brandy.

  Brandy had made it clear from their first date that she wasn’t interested in a fling and had shot down all of his advances. Surprisingly, it’d only made him want her more.

  Unfortunately, he’d found out too late that Brandy was in love with Chad. She’d only used him to make his friend jealous. Michelle was right; Brandy had been crazy, and it scared him to death that he hadn’t followed through with his doubts the first time he’d had them. He’d always been good about reading people.

  Why was he rehashing all of this now? He thought that he’d finally confronted all his inner demons, wondering if he could have done anything other than shoot Brandy.

  Every time he replayed the scenario in his head, he reminded himself that he had no choice. Brandy had shot through the door, even though he’d begged her not to come out. She was beyond reasoning, as though she’d lost all comprehension of right and wrong. And even if he could have escaped, he wouldn’t have been able to save Cassandra. If he’d left her there, Brandy would have killed her.

  He turned onto the main road and headed toward Ashville. Tomorrow he’d have time to sit down with Shelby and discuss her case further. If he didn’t believe her, he wouldn’t continue. There’s no way he could provide a solid defense for a client he didn’t believe was innocent.

  After his dealings with Brandy, he no longer ignored his ability to identify obsessive and deceiving qualities. He’d said he hadn’t known Brandy was a liar, but he had known; he just didn’t want to admit it to his sister. He’d questioned Brandy numerous times about her relationship with Chad. He’d seen it; he just hadn’t wanted to believe it.

  When he’d first read the arrest sheet on Shelby Castle, he didn’t see how he could represent her. But after delving into the report and speaking with her, he felt confident that she was innocent and that her actions had been in self-defense.

  Police had arrested Shelby for attempted murder against her ex-husband—not husband, but he hadn’t felt like getting into the details with Michelle. In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have mentioned the case at all. Maybe he’d been looking for someone to knock some sense into him.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror again. “What was I thinking, Sam?”

  His niece flashed him a one-toothed smile.

  He’d never wanted a wife or children. His best friend’s wife, Cassandra, was the first woman he’d ever wanted. The first time he’d met her—Chad hadn’t mentioned the fact that they were dating—Tom had instantly fallen for her.

  Cassandra was the first woman he’d ever imagined as more than a one-night stand. She was beautiful, intelligent, and had a great body. That mix didn’t come along often.

  Even his parents had bombarded him with questions the night he’d met her. Had he asked her out? Did she seem interested?

  Only afterward, had he found out that his sister had invited him over to his friend’s house on purpose. Michelle had also wanted Cassandra to fall for him, so she could have Chad to herself.

  Tom had forced his relationship with Brandy because he’d been jealous of his best friend. Somehow, he’d always known Brandy wasn’t the woman for him, but he’d wanted what he saw in Chad’s eyes. He wanted a woman he was willing to die for, not one who would kill him.

  After lowering his window to let in the fresh spring air, Tom glanced at the Nantahala River that bordered the road.

  Highway 19 curved with the beautiful river, lending drivers a fascinating view of the crystal-clear whitewater as it rolled over jagged rocks just below the water’s surface.

  The lower part of the river was too dangerous to paddle, but it didn’t keep him from dreaming of other rivers he missed. Several overlooks provided tourists an opportunity to get out and take pictures of the famous river, but all he saw was the whitewater that he no longer had time to paddle.

  He sighed and forced his eyes back to the road. “In a few years, I’ll teach you how to paddle, Sam. Would you like that?”

  “Yay!” Sam squealed in response, but she pretty much agreed with whatever he asked. She was the one female who didn’t expect anything from him other than a fun day filled with snacks and playing outdoors.

  His sister hated the country and wanted to move to Charlotte, which she claimed was more refined. But he’d convinced Michelle to remain at their parents’ summer home in Nantahala, with assurances he’d help her raise Samantha.

  Ashville was only a little over an hour’s drive, so he was able to take Sam on Sundays, providing his sister with one day to herself. Charlotte wasn’t too far, but he liked the idea of Sam growing up in the country. Besides, Cassandra and Chad also babysat for Michelle when she needed, especially since their son Turner—they’d given him his last name—was only three days younger than Sam was.

  He glanced at his niece in the mirror again. “Did you and Turner have fun yesterday?”

  “Yay Tur-ner!” Turner was another person who got constant approval from Sam. Who knew? Maybe one day their families would be related by marriage. He had always thought that Chad would be his brother-in-law, but he couldn’t blame him for breaking up with Michelle; she was a handful.

  Tom’s built-in Bluetooth rang. He peeked at the caller ID on the dash and frowned. He clicked the ‘talk’ button on his steering wheel, not sure whether to answer as if he recognized the caller or not.

  Not, he decided. Business wise, it was better not to let him think he viewed him as anything other than a peer.

  “Tom Turner.” He used his simple greeting for unknown callers. After all, he wasn’t even sure if the State Attorney knew he had his personal number, as he’d never called him. He’d just programmed the private number into his phone when he saw it in the law firm directory…in the event he ever needed him.

  “Turner. It’s Mike Bame.” The young state attorney with a slight southern accent, but booming voice, rang through the vehicle’s speakers.

  Tom paused a second, as if recollecting the state attorney’s name. You have to play the game, his father had always told him. “Oh, good morning, Mr. Bame. How can I help you?”

  “Call me ‘Mike’, no need to be all business. According to Shelby Castle’s case file, I see you agreed to represent her. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir.” Tom answered, wondering why the State Attorney would call him on
a Sunday morning about a case he’d signed. They’d never conversed in the past.

  “Well, I wanted you to know that the charges against Shelby have been dropped, and she is scheduled for release.”

  Tom choked out a breath in disbelief. “What? How’s that possible? She hit her husband over the head with a cast-iron skillet.”

  Mike mirrored Tom’s disbelief with a chuckle. “When her husband woke up, he claimed that’s not what happened. Usually it’s the women who do that to protect their husbands from going to prison.”

  Tom shook his head in disbelief, even though Mike couldn’t see him. “And you’ve taken care of this on a Sunday?” He knew his words were borderline rude, but something didn’t make sense.

  “Her in-laws are the Castles. What can I say? They must know people in high places. The magistrate called this morning and asked what we had on Shelby.”

  Castle. Tom hadn’t connected the names. So it wasn’t that she had money; she didn’t, the reason she’d needed a public defender. But her ex-husband evidently did. The Castles had been in Ashville, North Carolina forever. They had ties in tobacco, farming, industry, and real estate. You name it; they owned it.

  “When are they releasing her?” Tom asked.

  “I’ve already signed off, but you know the system. It could be minutes; it could be hours.”

  “Thanks, Mike.”

  “No problem, Turner. Too bad, though. I was looking forward to seeing you in action. I’ve heard good things.”

  Tom laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure you got an earful over that last one. God only knows why I accepted that case.”

  “You won.”

  “Yep, but I’ll never live it down.”

  “My lips are sealed, rabbit defender—I mean, Tom.” Mike let out a roar of laughter and hung up.