Shroud of Fog: (A Cape Trouble Romantic Suspense Novel)

by Johnson, Janice Kay

  She’d had regular nightmares after that day. They were getting further apart now. She had recovered faster than she’d expected, and she knew it was entirely thanks to Daniel. Sleeping in the security of his embrace made all the difference. Being able to talk to him. Having him gradually open up to her, talking haltingly at times, but talking – about his childhood, his secret grief, the self-anger that had plagued him, the understanding he’d recently come to about where his strengths lay.

  She was beginning to understand herself a lot better, too. Having someone listen without judgment, hold you when you needed it, laugh at you when you needed that, was an amazing experience.

  More and more, they could relax and just have fun.

  She had really hated packing up and leaving Cape Trouble at the end of June, when she had promised to be back at work. She’d had to leave the job of making sure all the auction items made it to the venue auction day to other volunteers. Mostly, she’d had to leave Daniel.

  The day she drove over from the coast, when she let herself into her townhouse she had felt the strangest sense of disorientation. How could it be only a month since she’d left? Nothing here had changed – but she had.

  And she missed Daniel desperately. He hadn’t been able to leave Cape Trouble over the Fourth of July weekend, one of those holidays, he had told her with a grimace, that cops everywhere dreaded, and she’d been desperately trying to catch up with work. They talked on the phone nightly, for an hour or more, but not being able to see him, touch him, wake up next to him, felt unbearable. The relief she felt when he’d arrived in Portland yesterday had staggered her.

  Sophie didn’t know how Daniel felt about it, but the idea of doing this for a year seemed unendurable to her.

  At least there’d been no major hitches where the auction was concerned.

  Marie Billington had let her know that, acting for the monster whose name she shared, she would honor the agreement he had made with Doreen. If Sophie, Hanna, Naomi, Elaine and all the others could raise the money to match the amount that would be given by the nature protection group, Misty Beach would be saved for posterity. The cabins would be razed, but the lodge would be restored as an interpretive center. And everyone had agreed that Doreen Stedmann’s name would go on the sign at the entrance off the highway.

  Daniel had stayed in the loop as the investigation continued, and he kept her informed. The FBI agent in charge had let him know they had potential identities of a dozen or more additional victims. Benjamin Billington was truly a monster, and she might be the only woman he ever abducted who had escaped.

  Unless, in a way, her mother could be said to have. She at least hadn’t been hunted down like an animal and raped. Her death was quick.

  Sophie’s father had been silent for a long time after she told him what happened to her mom, and what they now knew about her death.

  Finally he had surprised her by saying, “You know I never believed she killed herself. I should have raised hell. Insisted on a serious investigation. I told myself she was dead and I couldn’t bring her back, so what did it matter? You were so traumatized, and I didn’t want you questioned any more.” His voice was quietly angry. “I was wrong. I feel responsible for letting him go on to kill more women. To come so damn close to hurting and killing you.”

  She tried to convince him that he wasn’t, but didn’t think she’d succeeded. She was left with the unsettling realization that she hadn’t known her father as well as she’d thought she did.

  She frequently let herself be grateful for Doreen, who’d given her what she needed.

  Doreen, whose night this was.

  *****

  It was nearly midnight before Daniel and Sophie were free to leave the hotel. During the short drive home to her place, Daniel kept an eye on her. He knew what an emotional experience tonight had been for her. Right now, she was exhausted, dazed and exhilarated. And, damn, he knew how hard she’d worked to make the evening happen.

  “I can’t believe how much we made,” she murmured, for what had to be the third or fourth time, as he parked in her covered slot behind the row of townhouses.

  Daniel grinned. “You rock.”

  “We do. All of us. Remember, I didn’t bring in any of the items, or make arrangements with the venue, or find the artist, or…”

  “You did enough.”

  “I wish…”

  She didn’t finish her sentence until they’d unloaded the important stuff from the back of his Honda Pilot, which they’d taken tonight because they could haul so much more in it than in her Prius. The ‘important stuff’ tonight included money and credit card slips – one hell of a lot of money.

  Daniel had almost forgotten that she’d started to say something, but once they’d set everything down and he’d stripped off his tie, Sophie said, “Naomi should have been here.”

  He looked at her in surprise. He’d assumed she was thinking of Doreen again. “Not happening,” he said bluntly. “Your friend Naomi is hiding from someone or something. There was never any chance she’d show her face at an event with this many people present.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I know that.” He shed his suit coat. “I just hope it’s not the law she’s running from.”

  “You haven’t checked, have you?”

  “No.” The thought had crossed his mind, but he didn’t tell her that. “I’m pretending I haven’t noticed she’s afraid.”

  Sophie had dropped her evening bag and now kicked off the four-inch heels that had raised her a lot closer to his height. “Ooh, that feels good,” she moaned.

  “You ready to crash?” he asked, hoping she wasn’t too tired to make love. Because – damn, tomorrow was Sunday, and he had to head back to the coast.

  “Soon.” She flung out her arms and twirled. “First I need to dance.”

  “Ah.” He bowed. “Miss, may I have this one?”

  Laughing, she curtsied. “Certainly, sir.”

  He swept her into his arms and into an abbreviated form of the waltz, managing to miss hall table and stair bannister. Then his steps slowed and he brought her to a stop, their bodies in contact from thigh to chest.

  “Sophie,” he said slowly, feeling more trepidation than he’d expected. “I thought this might be a good time…”

  She was bright-eyed with anticipation. God knows what she thought he was going to say. Probably not this. Was he nuts, given how short a time they’d known each other? Maybe he should hold off. But, damn it, he’d geared himself up.

  He cleared his throat. “Sophie.”

  Her expression changed, becoming solemn as if she saw something on his face.

  “You know I love you.”

  Her mouth curved into a tremulous smile. “And you know I love you.”

  “This seeing you for two days every once in a while thing sucks,” he said bluntly. “Maybe I’m being pushy, but I don’t want to do this.”

  She stiffened. “You don’t want to do this?”

  “Not what you’re thinking,” he said roughly. “What I mean is…I’m going to break my contract. Move over here. I’d…like to move in with you, but if you’re not ready, I’ll get myself a place. Start job-hunting.”

  She stared for a moment that stretched longer than he liked, given his serious case of nerves. “You…you mean that?” she finally whispered.

  “Yeah, I mean it.” His voice came out hoarse. “I want to be with you, Sophie.”

  Her eyes flooded with tears, which would have scared him if he hadn’t seen at the same time that she was smiling. “Oh, Daniel. I’ve been thinking the same, except I don’t have a contract to break.”

  “What?”

  “I want to see the Save Misty Beach campaign through to the end. Tonight was amazing, but we still need to raise some more money. And, you know, I’ve got to clean Aunt Doreen’s house out and put it on the market.”

  A task she could do in a couple of weeks, if she put her mind to it.

  �
�You don’t mind taking a year off?” he had to ask.

  Sophie dried her tears on his shirt-front. “No. I was thinking I could probably get some small jobs putting on events or spearheading fundraising drives for groups up and down the coast. And if I can’t…” She shrugged. “I can still afford to pay my half of expenses.”

  “Like I give a damn about that.”

  “So, um, what do you think of my plan?” she asked, sounding a little unsure of herself.

  His sinuses burned to the point of pain, but, man, he wanted this. His throat was almost too clogged for words. “If you mean it, I can’t think of anything better.”

  “The city council won’t…well, disapprove of you having a woman living with you, will they? Because I could hold onto Doreen’s house and you could stay in yours until—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. If they want to fire me, well, what the hell, we’ll just move a little sooner than we’d intended.” He wondered if she’d mind if he told people Sophie was his fiancee. It was a little soon to suggest marriage, but he was thinking it. No, more than thinking – he was counting on it.

  And, considering he’d spent a lifetime running from love, he was blown away to realize how completely confident he felt that Sophie was thinking the same – and that, by the end of the year in Cape Trouble, they’d have that wedding.

  Stunned, he thought, This is what happiness feels like.

  “I love you, Daniel Colburn,” she said with startling ferocity before she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

  The best he could manage, between kisses, was her name.

  Who - or what - is Naomi hiding from?

  Find out in the next Cape Trouble novel.

  Coming August 2014

  About The Author

  Janice Kay Johnson is the author of more than ninety books for children and adults. Her first four published romance novels were coauthored with her mother Norma Tadlock Johnson, also a writer who has since published mysteries and children's books on her own. These were "sweet" romance novels, the author hastens to add; she isn't sure they'd have felt comfortable coauthoring passionate love scenes!

  Janice graduated from Whitman College with a B.A. in history and then received a master's degree in library science from the University of Washington. She was a branch librarian for a public library system until she began selling her own writing.

  She has written six novels for young adults and one picture book for the read-aloud crowd. ROSAMUND was the outgrowth of all those hours spent reading to her own daughters, and of her passion for growing old roses. Two more of her favorite books were the historical novels: WINTER OF THE RAVEN and THE ISLAND SNATCHERS, written for Tor/Forge and now available in ebook format for the first time. The research was pure indulgence for someone who set out intending to be a historian.

  Janice raised her two daughters in a small, rural town north of Seattle, Washington. She spent many years as an active volunteer and board member for Purrfect Pals, a no-kill cat shelter, and foster kittens often enlivened a household that typically includes a few more cats than she wants to admit to.

  Janice loves writing books about both love and family — about the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have on us throughout life. Her Superromance novels are frequent finalists for Romance Writers of America RITA awards, and she won the 2008 RITA for Best Contemporary Series Romance for SNOWBOUND.

  Visit her website at www.JaniceKayJohnson.com.

  A Note from the Author:

  Thank you so much for purchasing my book. I hope you enjoyed it. This is my first venture into the world of independently publishing. Previously (and currently), I have worked with major publishing houses, currently Harlequin Romance, so this is the first time all the promotional and marketing efforts have fallen on my shoulders alone. If you enjoyed the book, I hope you will take a moment to help me get the word out to others by posting a review on Amazon or Goodreads - or “like” my Author Page on Facebook to get future updates.

  The links are:

  Amazon - http://amzn.to/1bU9Wib

  Goodreads - http://bit.ly/1jnvGb2

  Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/pages/Janice-Kay-Johnson/365182203513646

  I also love to hear from readers, so please feel free to contact me on Facebook or via my website at www.JaniceKayJohnson.com.