Deadly Deception

by Marissa Garner

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Acknowledgments

  A Preview of Only Obsession

  Also by Marissa Garner

  About the Author

  Marissa Garner's FBI Heat Series

  Newsletters

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by Marissa Garner

  Excerpt from Only Obsession copyright © 2018 by Marissa Garner

  Cover copyright © 2018 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Forever Yours

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  First ebook and print on demand edition: January 2018

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  ISBN 978-1-5387-6073-4 (ebook edition)

  ISBN 978-1-5387-6072-7 (print on demand edition)

  E3-20171108-DANF

  To my husband, whose enthusiastic support has healed my confidence and whose loving concern has gotten me through many dark days.

  Chapter 1

  Her ten-year-old Buick died on the shoulder of the rural road with a bone-rattling shudder and a belch of smoke.

  Molly Freeman smacked the steering wheel. “Couldn’t you last one more mile to get me home, you darn bucket of nuts and bolts?”

  She massaged her temples. What a lousy day. First, the disturbing call with her troubled son had started the day on a sour note. And now her entire afternoon of errands had come to a screeching halt on a deserted road. If only she’d come straight home after the car sputtered to a stop when she’d left the beauty shop in town. But no, she’d swung by the dry cleaners to pick up Jessica’s clothes. Once a mother, always a mother, even if her daughter was twenty-nine years old.

  Molly drew a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Crossing her fingers, she turned the key while saying a silent prayer for a miracle. No such luck. No click. No chugga-chugga. No nothing. She tried a second and third time but not one encouraging sound came from under the hood.

  “Well, damn.” She reached into her purse for her cell phone and hoped her husband wasn’t napping. Hal was babysitting Callie, their four-year-old granddaughter, and he often slept when she did in the afternoon.

  Molly tapped her foot as the house phone rang until the answering machine picked up.

  “Hey, Hal, you there? The car died. Can you come get me?” She waited several seconds. “Hal? Answer the phone!” She hung her head and sighed. “Okay. I’m on Wheaton, probably a little over a mile from home. I’m going to start walking in ten minutes. Call me if you get this message.”

  She dropped the phone back into her purse. Closing her eyes, she pressed her head against the headrest and forced herself to relax.

  Relaxation was scarce these days. There always seemed to be more stress and even more work to do. Since Jessica had moved in after her divorce was final six months ago, the commotion of two extra people in the house, one of them a mischievous munchkin, was taking its toll. She loved her daughter and granddaughter, and she would never have turned Jessica down when she asked about living with her and Hal temporarily. Temporarily being the operative word.

  Molly opened her eyes and checked her watch. Fifteen minutes had passed with no call from Hal, and she certainly didn’t want to bother anyone else just to avoid the twenty-minute walk. Besides, the exercise would be good for her.

  Leaving Jessica’s dry cleaning hanging in the backseat, she locked the car and began her hike. Since there were only two other houses in the area, and one of those was her son’s, she didn’t have much hope of catching a ride with a neighbor. But her spirits lifted as she scanned the cloudless, late September sky. Nonresidents might make fun of California for being the “cereal land, full of fruits, nuts, and flakes,” but the weather was heavenly.

  She worked up a bit of a sweat by the time she reached her house. As she’d expected, not a single vehicle had driven by. After trudging through the back door, she dropped her purse on the kitchen table. The blinking light on the answering machine caught her eye. Apparently, Hal had never gotten her message.

  She listened for snoring coming from the living room, but the house was silent. So silent, in fact, that the tick of the kitchen clock, which read almost two, seemed oddly loud.

  Peeking into the living room, she confirmed her husband wasn’t asleep in his recliner. She hurried down the hall to the master bedroom and found an empty bed. Smiling, she quietly opened the door to Callie’s bedroom but didn’t find Hal or her granddaughter.

  Shaking her head and frowning, Molly retraced her steps to the kitchen. Heaven help them all if Hal let Callie skip her nap. Those two hours of midday rest kept the munchkin from morphing into a monster by dinnertime.

  With her hands braced on the edge of the counter, Molly leaned over the sink and surveyed the backyard through the kitchen window. She squinted at their huge garden, trying to spot the missing twosome among the long rows of vegetables. Not a soul in sight. She shifted her gaze to the grove of fruit trees. Still no one.

  She huffed and headed out the back door. Beneath her irritation, a tiny seed of worry sprouted.

  “Hal! Callie! Where are you?”

  No answer.

  Bracing her hands on her hips, she scanned the property, her gaze lingering on the three-part outbuilding beyond the gravel driveway. Hal usually parked his old truck in the double garage at one end. The middle section was his workshop, where he and Callie had built a birdhouse last week. The slightly lopsided structure now hung in the same tree with the birdhouse Hal had built with Jessica many years ago when he was getting acquainted with his new stepdaughter. Bless his heart, he’d worked so hard to be a great stepdad to both of Molly’s kids after her first husband died in a car accident, and now
he was trying just as hard to be an awesome granddad.

  The unlit red light bulb over the door of the last section of the outbuilding served as a warning that it was a darkroom. Before Hal had converted his photography business to digital ten years ago, he’d spent hours and hours in there developing film. Fully committed to the changing technology, he’d even taken the time to digitize all his old negatives. So now the space was unused. And always locked.

  Unfortunately, no sounds or signs of the missing duo came from any portion of the building.

  Molly stomped across the sparse grass of the backyard to the edge of the garden and turned left. She peered into the little forest of eucalyptus trees but saw no figures and heard no voices. She grinned. When Callie was around, her sweet little voice could always be heard because she was a chatterbox.

  “Hal! Callie!” Molly’s smile faded, and her forehead creased with growing concern. Where are they?

  She crossed the yard again, but instead of going toward the house, she aimed for the barn. It was a miniature version, but it provided plenty of space for all the supplies and equipment needed to maintain their garden and fruit trees. There was even enough room for Hal to park his small tractor.

  As Molly neared the barn, she wrinkled her nose. Over half the load of manure that had been delivered last weekend was still piled in front. Her husband was as far behind on his outdoor chores as she was on her indoor ones because taking care of Callie consumed so much of their time and energy. Wonderful time, well spent, obviously, but still, the chores didn’t do themselves.

  She opened one of the heavy wooden doors and peered into the darkness. The smells of the packed dirt floor, bags of fertilizer, and gasoline greeted her.

  “Callie? Hal?”

  After her eyes adjusted to the dark, she scanned the space. No sign of any activity. When her gaze fell on the tractor, she smiled at the thought of Callie’s delight when allowed to ride with her grandpa. Just like Jessica had loved it when she was Callie’s age. Molly pulled the door shut and latched it securely. The barn held too many dangers for her inquisitive granddaughter.

  When she turned around, a brilliant ray of sunlight blinded her like a laser. In that nanosecond of sightlessness, a nauseating sense of déjà vu enveloped her. Memories from two decades ago of another sunny day, a horrible life-changing day, filled her mind.

  Gasping and blinking, she dropped to her knees and stared at the outbuilding. She shook her head as if she could dispel the terrible thoughts. Her heart pounded painfully, and she struggled to breathe. No, no, dear God, not again.

  * * *

  Jessica Hargrove parked her Camry in the driveway of her parents’ house. The modest, single-story residence had been her childhood home, and the building was showing its age. If only she had the energy or money to help with a rejuvenating face-lift, but she didn’t. Like so many things these days, painting and repairs would have to wait for better times.

  She pasted on a smile to cover the exhaustion of a draining day. In addition to the stress of her new job in San Diego, she’d spent a tension-packed lunch hour talking to her attorney about options to make Drake pay the alimony and child support he’d agreed to in the divorce settlement. For the thousandth time, she wondered how she could’ve ever married such a jerk. Sadly, she’d been asking the same question since the day after their wedding. And even worse, she was in denial about the answer.

  Drake’s refusal to honor his financial commitment had forced Jessie to move back in with her parents, a real blow to her independent nature. Understanding her humiliation, her mom and stepdad were adamant that she save every penny possible so she could afford a place of her own sooner rather than later. But she knew supporting a household of four was putting a real strain on their finances. Although she insisted on paying half the grocery bills, her parents were making sacrifices, such as delaying the purchase of a new car for her mom.

  As Jessie strolled toward the back of the house, she sniffed the air, but her nose wasn’t treated to the usual mouthwatering aromas from her mother’s cooking. Most of the time, she could guess the dinner menu from the fabulous smells. Maybe they were having sandwiches or chicken Caesar salad tonight instead of a hot meal. Her stomach rumbled with hungry anticipation.

  Nearing the back door, Jessie smiled at the tricycle sitting on the patio. The pink and purple Big Wheel had been hers, and now her daughter loved it, too. Callie didn’t seem to care that the My Little Pony decals had all but disappeared. A mental video of Jessie racing her brother—Nate madly pedaling his Smurf Big Wheel—made her sigh with fondness for a simpler, happier time, a time long before her problems and Nate’s had begun.

  A warm breeze blew a strong, unpleasant odor toward the house. Jessie pinched her nose and shot a disgusted glance toward the barn. Her stepdad’s tractor sat next to a mountain of manure. Hopefully Callie had not been helping him with the chore of spreading it in the garden, for the little tomboy would surely have ended up with some of it in her hair and elsewhere.

  Groaning at the prospect of a shampoo battle, Jessie stepped into the house and stopped abruptly. Her gaze swept across the kitchen. The usually bright, noisy room was shadowy and silent. Not only was nothing cooking on the stove, but her mother wasn’t even in sight. No loving smile or cheery hello greeted her. She frowned as an odd sensation of foreboding gripped her for a moment before she shook it off as ridiculous. A simple change in routine didn’t signal anything ominous.

  But something else wasn’t right. Where is Callie? Her little girl always watched for her mommy from the living room window and dashed to meet her with a huge hug at the kitchen door. Jessie’s breath hitched, and she set her feet in motion.

  “Callie? Mom?” she called, crossing the kitchen almost at a run.

  Hal’s snoring brought her up short as she rounded the corner into the living room where he was stretched out in his recliner. She slumped against the door frame with relief. Closing her eyes, she gave herself a mental shake. Whatever had come over her to react in such a ridiculous manner? Things might be off schedule, but nothing was wrong.

  She straightened and walked to the recliner. “Dad.” She touched his shoulder. “Dad.”

  He grunted, coughed, and opened his eyes. “Huh?”

  She chuckled. “Callie wore you out again?”

  He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, right.”

  “Did she go with Mom to pick up some fast food for dinner?”

  Hal blinked and yawned, struggling to wake up. “Uh, no. Callie’s napping.”

  “Napping?” Jessie checked her watch. “It’s almost six. Good grief. We’ll never get her back to sleep by eight.” She headed toward the hallway, stopped, and looked back over her shoulder. “Where’s Mom?”

  He rubbed his eyes. “In town, running errands.”

  “This late?”

  Hal shrugged.

  “Okay. While I wake the munchkin, you call Mom to see if she’s picking up dinner or if she wants me to start something.”

  She pushed open the door to Callie’s bedroom and smiled. Blond curls created a halo on the pillow. Her thumb in her mouth, the little girl was still sleeping soundly. She never slept this late; she must’ve worn herself out, as well as her grandpa.

  Jessie sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the hair away from Callie’s face. “Sweetie, wake up. It’s time for dinner.” She kissed her cheek. “C’mon, honey. Time to get up.” With still no sign of her waking, she gently shook the little girl’s shoulder. “Wake up, Callie. I want to hear about your day.”

  Callie mumbled something into the pillow.

  “That’s my girl. Let me see those beautiful brown eyes.”

  Without raising her head, Callie opened her eyes and gazed up at her mother. After only a few seconds, her eyelids drifted closed again.

  “Oh, no, you don’t, sleepy head.” Jessie rubbed her daughter’s cheek.

  She yawned. “I’m tired. I don’t wants dinner.”

  Another exception
to normalcy. Callie usually woke up bright and energetic, not drowsy and sluggish. And dinner was her favorite meal.

  “What did you do this afternoon to get so tired?”

  The little girl gave her mother a blank stare. “I can’t ’member.”

  “Remember,” Jessie corrected, emphasizing the missing syllable.

  Callie pushed out her lower lip in a pout. “I said I can’t ’member. I really can’t.”

  “No, honey, the word is…Never mind.” Jessie sighed. “Did you help Grandpa on the tractor?”

  She looked at the ceiling. “I don’t thinks so. We didn’t gets the tractor out of the barn today.”

  “Did you ride your bike?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  Jessie struggled not to laugh at the bewilderment on the little girl’s face.

  “Did a friend come over? Uncle Nate? Or Uncle Chad and his dog?”

  Callie shrugged. “I thinks my brain is still asleep.”

  “No problem, honey. I feel that way a lot.” She scooped Callie into her arms and carried her to the living room. Hal still sat where she’d left him, his eyes closed again. “Dad, what did Mom say?”

  He started. “Huh? Oh, Molly didn’t answer.” Frowning, he hesitated. “Went straight to voice mail. I left a message.”

  “Maybe Mom forgot to charge her phone again. I’ll check the fridge and see if I can tell what’s for dinner.” She set Callie in his lap. “You two wake each other up.”

  In the refrigerator, she spotted a package of thawed hamburger. “Well, that narrows it down,” she muttered. She found spaghetti sauce and pasta in the pantry and a package of garlic bread in the freezer. “I’m making spaghetti,” she called to her stepdad and daughter. “Keep trying to get Mom.”

  By the time dinner was ready, Molly hadn’t come home or answered her phone. Jessie glanced at the clock. Almost seven. Her mother never ran errands this late. And why hadn’t she called, if not from her cell, then from someone else’s or a pay phone? The strange sense of foreboding resurfaced. She swallowed past a sudden tightness in her throat.

  “Did you try any of Mom’s friends? Has anyone heard from her this afternoon?” she asked, setting the bowl of spaghetti sauce in front of Hal.