Table of Contents
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
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
CHAPTER 92
CHAPTER 93
CHAPTER 94
CHAPTER 95
CHAPTER 96
CHAPTER 97
CHAPTER 98
CHAPTER 99
CHAPTER 100
CHAPTER 101
EPILOGUE
Fear Is Louder Than Words
by
Linda S. Glaz
FEAR IS LOUDER THAN WORDS BY LINDA S. GLAZ
Published by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas
2333 Barton Oaks Dr., Raleigh, NC, 27614
ISBN: 9781941103500
Copyright © 2015 by Linda S. Glaz
Cover design by Elaina Lee, http://www.forthemusedesign.com
Interior design by Karthick Srinivasan
Available in print from your local bookstore, online, or from the publisher at:
www.lighthousepublishingofthecarolinas.com
For more information on this book and the author visit http://lindaglaz.blogspot.com/
All rights reserved. Non-commercial interests may reproduce portions of this book without the express written permission of Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas, provided the text does not exceed 500 words. When reproducing text from this book, include the following credit line: “Fear is Louder Than Words by Linda S. Glaz published by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas. Used by permission.”
Commercial interests: No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination or are used for fictional purposes. Any mentioned brand names, places, and trademarks remain the property of their respective owners, bear no association with the author or the publisher, and are used for fictional purposes only.
Scripture quotations are taken from the HOLY BIBLE NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION r. NIVr Copyright c 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
Brought to you by the creative team at LighthousePublishingoftheCarolinas.com: Leslie L. McKee, Rowena Kuo, Eddie Jones, Meaghan Burnett, Shonda Savage, Brian Cross, Paige Boggs, and Christy Distler
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Glaz, Linda S.
Fear is Louder Than Words / Linda S. Glaz 1st ed.
PRAISE FOR FEAR IS LOUDER THAN WORDS
Bone-chilling suspense, riveting romance … author Linda S. Glaz knows how to keep the pages turning long after the sun goes down. Fear is Louder Than Words is a fully-rounded romantic suspense that pulls on the reader’s heartstrings. No one writes villains like Linda!
~ Jessica Nelson
Author of Love on the Range
Family on the Range
and the Women of Manatee Bay Series
Fear Is Louder Than Words weaves the terror of being hunted prey with chilling twists of a spine-tingling, romantic suspense. Linda Glaz’s writing is tight, her dialogue realistic, her ability to give heroes and villains distinct voice shines. A gripping ride!
~ Camille Eide
Author of Like There’s No Tomorrow
and Like a Love Song
Fear definitely speaks loud in this edge-of-your-seat romantic suspense. The author takes us behind the mic of a radio host and into the mind of a killer.
~ Cynthia Hickey
Author of the Nosy Neighbor Mystery Series
Dedication
To my fabulous family who always encouraged me to keep writing, and who have always been there. Always.
To Jesus Christ who keeps me up late at night with ideas that never end
and with strength only He can give.
Contents
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
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
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
CHAPTER 92
CHAPTER 93
CHAPTER 94
CHAPTER 95
CHAPTER 96
CHAPTER 97
CHAPTER 98
CHAPTER 99
CHAPTER 100
CHAPTER 101
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
It’s so hard to know where to begin. But I couldn’t have completed this story without my fabulous critique partners: Camille Eide, Jessica Nelson, Karla Akins, Emily Hendrickson, Tom Threadgill, April Strauch, and Cheryl Martin. Kudos for all the catches. You were wonderful and funny from beginning to end. Without all of you, this would have been flat, like an egg without salt.
To my fantastic agent, Terry Burns. Thank you. Thank you. You see the potential in so many folks and we’re all grateful.
To my family who put up with hearing the story over and over until I’m sure they longed to scream, “Stop, already, or we’ll write a fave fan letter of our own!”
To my sister-in-law Penny Banks who is the greatest encourager I’ve ever known. And to Ben Wolf, thanks for the slashing and burning. To Leslie McKee who caught all those niggling little things I always manage to miss.
To Bob Dutko’s producer, Jan Foxx, WMUZ-Detroit, who gave of her time so I could be sure about details surrounding a radio talk show host’s life in the public eye. And the horror it can often mean for those standing up for what they believe in.
To more readers than I can name. Thank you. Thank you for reading this when it was still earning its chops. I appreciate all the comments that helped the story come alive.
To two very special people who always allow me to pick their law enforcement brains, retired officers, Mike and Linda Discher who I have on speed dial.
Thanks to the Following Authors for Their Support of Fear Is Louder Than Words
A Gift for You
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CHAPTER 1
Christmastime is near
Happy time of year
But Princess … you deserve to die
A MOUTHFUL OF HOT MOCHA spewed from Rochelle’s mouth, burning her chin and bathing the counter. Fingers tense, she set down her cup then shredded the note into file thirteen.
The guy was no Thoreau. Another wacko. The city was full of them and a great many had found their way to her door, her email, and her Twitter account.
She grabbed the edge of the counter, smoothed the long, blue sweater over her leggings, and forced a smile. Did her phony calm fool their receptionist or resemble a bad imitation of the Joker?
Behind Stella’s desk, a cheerful Christmas carol on WNIC mocked Rochelle—contradicted the fact she’d been threatened—again. Six letters now. She should call legal.
“What is it?” Stella looked up through thick bangs, a wavering grin on her frightened-little-mouse face. Had Rochelle ever looked that young? That naïve? No, she’d jumped from sixteen to ninety the day her folks died.
“Which favorite fan is it this time? Are you all right? What did it say?” Stella nibbled the edge of her nail.
Rochelle laughed a little too loud to squelch the sick feeling snaking through her gut. “That I deserve to die.” She mopped at the counter with a wad of tissue and then waved her hand. Bye-bye.
“Say what?” Stella’s jaw dropped.
“Aren’t you glad all my fans don’t feel that way? So long ratings.”
Stella chewed her cheek and nodded while Rochelle debated how to best spin this.
“Don’t give the crazies a thought, Stell. I have enough of those letters to paper an entire room. Just sayin’. First one nut job, then another.” Had she sounded sincere? No one ever really got accustomed to the vicious comments.
Rochelle dropped another strained smile, but the girl’s huge, almond eyes appeared ready to cry. “Understand one thing, Stella. They all think they’re your favorite fan. And can say whatever they like.” Her thumb rubbed over the other envelopes.
“I’m sorry you got that letter. Will you be all right? I’m so sorry about the fave fan and all. I can call security. Do you want someone to walk you out, Ms. Cassidy? It’s getting late. It won’t be a bother. I promise. My coat’s right here.” She fingered the jacket sleeve.
Stella’s anxious rambling wasn’t helping to put the letter to rest. There was nothing to set aside the hateful venom that seemed to come so easily to another person’s lips. And for the life of her, she didn’t understand why.
“I’ll be leaving in a while, and it’s Rochelle, not Ms. Cassidy. And, no, I don’t need anyone to walk me out.”
Rochelle caught her breath and dropped the rest of the mail back in her slot, not intending to read any more tonight. Perhaps never.
Clearing the lobby, she scrambled for the safety of her office. Instead of tears, she closed the door, slammed her shoulders against the heavy wood, and sucked back an unsteady breath. Too many high-profile stories of late had the sting of a bull’s-eye. The darts pierced between her shoulders.
Why, again, had she taken this job?
Oh, yeah. Pay off the mortgage and student loans.
The intercom buzzed. Rochelle flinched, bringing up the spicy soup from lunch into her throat. She leaned forward and flipped the switch on the intercom. “Yes?” With a one-handed tug on her desk drawer, she searched for a tin of antacids as her teeth worried her lower lip.
“A man to see you.” Stella lowered her voice. “He said you need to sign for a package. And don’t worry. I checked his credentials. Driver’s license and all.”
Yeah, like a man would have I’m bad stamped on his license. Right next to organ donor. Rochelle smiled. Where had the station found such a sweetie?
“What package? Never mind. Send him over.” Ignoring the nervous sound of her voice, she smoothed her top again, tugging at the edges.
Pen clutched in her hand like a weapon, Rochelle waited outside her door. A man too old and tired-looking to be suspect turned the corner.
She exhaled. “May I help you?”
“Cassidy? Rochelle?”
She nodded, and he stuck out his hand, tapped at a blank line.
“Your John Hancock.”
She scribbled her signature. “What is it?”
A scowl formed as he scrutinized her signature. He popped the signed receipt in a black folder. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Here.” Then he shoved a manila envelope in her direction and disappeared the way he’d come.
“Merry Christmas to you, too.” She hated to link Christmas with sarcasm, but sometimes it fit. Ho-Ho-Ho
.
Her fingers grasped the thin envelope to her chest. Calm down. Can’t be a subpoena, he wouldn’t have needed a signature. She backtracked to her desk, never stealing her gaze from the packet. Surely her favorite fan wouldn’t go to this much trouble.
Would he?
Rochelle laid it on her desk. Staring didn’t help. She sat down. Maybe she should call legal before opening it. Another search through the drawer uncovered not only the mints but a pewter letter opener.
Raised letterhead … Blackwell, Merriweather, and VanHume. Daniel VanHume. That name. Where did she know it from? Fingers shaking, she withdrew another paper.
A letter and … a check?
CHAPTER 2
A CITY BUS RUMBLED PAST, a bigger-than-life photo of Rochelle Cassidy defiling the side.
Smoke belched. Kyle punched the air and flipped his finger toward the back of the bus. Like he needed a reminder of the princess.
Every other day this week, she’d left the building hours before now. What kept her today? Reading his card. That’s it; she was reading his card. Wondering if he was watching.
That must be it.
But he didn’t like waiting.
Not for anyone. Or anything.
Darkness fell in sketchy outlines. He smirked. Even the weather was on his side, but still, he shivered.
Some stiff bumped him, dropped a box as he rushed past.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going. Here.” Kyle kicked the box. “You forgot something.”
The guy didn’t make eye contact. Just grabbed the package and ran like the little girl he was. Kyle laughed.
Anxious for some action, he bulleted a gaze at his dollar-store watch and slapped his arms against a jacket that had been an uncle’s hand-me-down. Uncle Rory.
His throat tightened. His gut clenched. He’d have ripped the jacket off but for the cold.
Kyle refocused. A little after five.
Where was she?
Worrying that he was looking for her?
The vision of her slender fingers opening his note drove the ice from his veins, filling him with warmth.
Tonight, he’d do more than watch.
Another shiver, this time from the thrill, riveted the thin jacket to his spine.
CHAPTER 3
“RATINGS ARE UP!”
Rochelle jumped, smacking her knee on the edge of her chair. That was going to leave a nasty bruise.
The door opened, and she hurried to stuff the check under her desk mat. Smile.
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