by Debra Webb
“These two are Jefferson County residents.” He tapped the first and second photos; Macy and Callie were both blondes. “This one’s Tuscaloosa.” Reanne, a redhead. “The latest is from Mountain Brook, my jurisdiction.” The fourth girl, Andrea, was a brunette and his attention idled there an extra moment or two.
Jess lowered herself into a chair. She opened the files, one by one, and reviewed the meager contents. Interviews with family and friends. Photos and reports from the scenes. All but one of the missing, Reanne, were college students.
“No contact with the families? No sightings?”
She looked up, the need to assess his facial expressions as he answered a force of habit. His full attention rested on the files for a time before settling on her. The weight of the public service position he held had scored lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. Lines that hadn’t been there ten years ago. Funny how those same sorts of lines just made her look old, but on him they lent an air of distinction.
He shook his head in response to her question.
“No credit card or cell phone trails?” she went on. “No good-bye or suicide notes? No ransom demands?”
“Nothing.”
With a fluidity and ease that spoke of confidence as well as physical strength and fitness, he propped one hip on the edge of the table and studied her, those familiar blue eyes searching hers as blatantly as she had assessed his seconds ago. “Sheriff Roy Griggs—you may remember him—and Chief Bruce Patterson in Tuscaloosa are doing all they can, but there’s nowhere to go. The bureau won’t budge on the issue of age of consent. All four of these girls are nineteen or older, and with the lack of evidence to indicate foul play there’s nothing to investigate, in their opinion. File the report, add the photos to the various databases, and wait. That’s what they can do.”
According to the law, the bureau was correct. Unless there was evidence of foul play or vulnerability to a crime, there was no action the bureau or any law enforcement agency could take. He knew this but his cop instincts or his emotions, she hadn’t concluded which yet, wouldn’t let it go at that. And she did remember Griggs. He had served as Jefferson County sheriff for the past three decades.
“But you think there’s a connection that suggests this is not only criminal but perhaps serial.” This wasn’t a question. He’d told her as much on the phone, but she needed to hear his conclusion again and to see what his face and eyes had to show about his words.
His call, just hearing his voice, had resurrected memories and feelings she’d thought long dead and buried. They hadn’t spoken since the summer after college graduation until ten years ago when they bumped into each other at the Publix in Hoover. Of all the grocery stores in the Birmingham area how they’d ended up at the same one on the first holiday she’d spent with her family in years still befuddled her. He had been newly divorced from his second wife. Jess had been celebrating a promotion. A volatile combination when merged with the holiday mania and the nostalgia of their explosive history. The last-minute dessert she had hoped to grab at the market before dinner with her sister’s family had never made it to the table.
Jess hadn’t heard from him since. Not that she could fault his after-frantic-sex lack of propriety; she’d made no attempt at contact either. There had been no random shopping ventures since on her rare visits to Birmingham.
“There has to be a connection.” He surveyed the happy, carefree faces in the photos again. “Same age group. All attractive. Smart. No records, criminal or otherwise. Their entire futures—bright futures—ahead of them. And no one in their circle of family or friends saw a disappearing act coming.” He tapped the fourth girl’s photo. “I know Andrea Denton personally. There’s no way she would just vanish like this. No way.”
Two things registered distinctly as he made this passionate declaration. One, he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Two, he didn’t just know number four personally. He knew her intimately on some level.
“Someone took her,” he insisted. “Someone took them all.” His expression softened a fraction. “I know your profiling reputation. If anyone can help us find these girls, it’s you.”
A genuine smile tugged at the frown Jess had been wearing most waking hours for days now. She had absolutely nothing to smile about but somehow the compliment coming from him roused the reaction. “That might be a bit of a stretch, Chief.” Sitting here with him staring down at her so intently felt entirely too familiar… too personal. She stood, leveling the playing field. “And even the best can’t create something out of nothing and, unfortunately, that’s exactly what you appear to have so far.”
“All I’m asking is that you try. These girls,” he gestured to the files, “deserve whatever we can do.”
He’d get no argument from her there. “You know the statistics.” If they had in fact been abducted, the chances of finding one or more alive at this stage were minimal at best. The only good thing she could see was that they didn’t have a body. Yet.
“I do.” He dipped his head in a weary, somber move, emphasizing the grave tone of his voice.
Eventually she would learn the part he was leaving out. No one wanted to admit there was nothing to be done when anyone went missing, particularly a child or young adult. But this urgency and unwavering insistence that foul play was involved went beyond basic human compassion and the desire to get the job done. She could feel his anxiety and worry vibrating with escalating intensity.
“Will your counterparts cooperate?” Kicking a hornet’s nest when it came to jurisdiction would compound her already complicated situation. That she could do without. Once the news hit the public domain, there would be trouble enough.
“They’ll cooperate. You have my word.”
Jess had known Daniel Burnett her whole life. He believed there was more here than met the eye in these seemingly random disappearances. Unless emotion was somehow slanting his assessment, his instincts rarely missed the mark. More than twenty years ago he had known she was going to part ways with him well before she had recognized that unexpected path herself, and he had known she was his for the taking that cold, blustery evening in that damned Publix. She would lay odds on his instincts every time.
She just hadn’t ever been able to count on him when it came to choosing her over his own personal and career goals. As ancient as that history was, the hole it left in her heart had never completely healed. Even knowing that hard truth, she held her breath, waiting for what came next.
“I need your help, Jess.”
Jess. The smooth, deep nuances of his voice whispered over her skin and just like that it was ten years ago all over again.
Only this time, she would make certain they didn’t end up in bed together.
THE DISH
Where Authors Give You the Inside Scoop
From the desk of Anna Campbell
Dear Reader,
When I first came up with the idea for the Sons of Sin series, which began last year with Seven Nights in a Rogue’s Bed, I wanted to explore the effects of family scandal on my heroes and the women they fall in love with.
My first hero, Jonas Merrick, was all injury, anger, and passion. For my second hero, I wanted less of the wounded lion and more of the man who hides deep emotional wounds beneath a careless smile and a quick witticism. Someone a little closer to the Scarlet Pimpernel than Heathcliff! I also wanted to write about someone who becomes a hero in spite of himself, once he realizes that he alone can protect the woman he loves from men with much darker motives than his own rather murky purposes.
So Sir Richard Harmsworth, the dashing rake at the center of A RAKE’S MIDNIGHT KISS, was born.
All Richard’s life, he’s maintained an appearance of cool elegance. He’s learned through bitter experience that emotional involvement only leads to disaster. When he sets out to retrieve the Harmsworth Jewel, the priceless artifact that proves his right to the baronetcy, he has no idea that he’s embarking on an adventure that will change him forever.
/> Richard fights tooth and nail against falling in love with scholarly vicar’s daughter, Genevieve Barrett, the jewel’s current custodian. Even worse, innocent Genevieve is the one woman in the world who seems immune to his famous charm. To win her, he’ll need to dig deep beneath his spectacular façade and unearth all those heroic qualities that he’s convinced he doesn’t possess. Qualities like courage and honor, steadfastness and self-sacrifice.
These two characters were such fun to write. I’ve always been a fan of the fast-talking romantic comedies of the 1930s and 1940s where the heroine was at least as smart as the hero and didn’t give him an inch unless he worked himself into a lather to take it. I created Richard and Genevieve in that mold—I wanted passionate battles and battling passions! I hope you enjoy their bumpy path to true love and a happy ending.
If you’d like to know more about A RAKE’S MIDNIGHT KISS, please check out my website www.anna campbell.info. And in the meantime, happy reading!
Best wishes,
From the desk of Debra Webb
Dear Reader,
Fall is around the corner and I’m already plotting how to decorate for Halloween and then Christmas. Yes, I said Christmas! Time really has flown this year. Here we are in case six of the Faces of Evil—RUTHLESS.
I’m certain you were a little stunned at the end! What in the world is Jess going to do? It’s time for her to get her act together and face the reality of her situation—Spears isn’t going to stop until he has her. There is so much more for her to consider now. And Dan, oh my goodness, is he in for a surprise! Jess will need Dan more than ever now.
Vicious is next, so brace yourself! Things just get more chilling from here. The pressure is on to stop Spears and no one is safe. As the next six cases play out, look for exploding tension, life-and-death situations, and even more heinous killers. That’s the thing about the Faces of Evil: Each one is more evil than the last. So don’t miss a single installment!
I hope you’ll stop by www.thefacesofevil.com and visit! There’s a weekly briefing each Friday where I talk about what’s going on in my world and with the characters as I write the next story. You can sign up as a person of interest and you might just end up a suspect! We love giving away prizes too so do stop by.
Enjoy the story and be sure to look for Vicious next spring! Between now and then, I’ll be sending you on a journey into Jess and Dan’s past with a very special
Christmas story. Watch for Silence coming soon!
Cheers!
From the desk of Kristen Ashley
Dear Reader,
I have an obsession with names, which shouldn’t surprise readers as the names I give my characters run the gamut and are often out there.
In my Dream Man series, I introduced readers to Cabe “Hawk” Delgado, Brock “Slim” Lucas, Mitch Lawson, and Kane “Tack” Allen. My Chaos series gives us Shy, Hop, Joker, and Rush, among the other members of the Club.
I’ve had quite a few folks express curiosity about where I come up with all these names, and I wish I could say I knew a load of good-looking men who had awesome and unusual names and I stole them but, alas, that isn’t true.
In most cases, characters, especially heroes and heroines, come to me named. They just pop right into my head, much like Tatum “Tate” Jackson of Sweet Dreams. He just walked right in there, all the gloriousness of Tate, and introduced himself to me. And luckily, he had an amazing, strong, masculine, kick-ass name.
In other instances, who they are defines their name. I understood Hawk’s tragic back story from MYSTERY MAN first. I also understood that the man he was melted away; he became another man with a new name so what he called himself evolved from what he did in the military. His given name, of course, evolved from his multiethnic background.
The same with Mitch, the hero from Law Man. The minute he walked into Gwen’s kitchen, his last name hit me like a shot. What else could a straight-arrow cop be called but Lawson?
Other names are a mystery to me. Kane “Tack” Allen came to me named but I had no clue why his Club name was Tack. Truthfully, I also found it a bit annoying seeing as how the name Kane is such a cool name, and I didn’t want to waste it on a character who wouldn’t use it. But Tack was Kane Allen and there was no prying that name away from him.
Why he was called Tack, though, was a mystery to me, but I swear, it must have always been in the recesses of my mind because his nickname is perfect for him. Therefore, as I was following his journey with Tyra and the mystery of Tack was revealed, I burst out laughing. I loved it. It was so perfect for him.
One of the many, many reasons I’m enjoying the Chaos series is that I get to be very creative with names. I mean, Shy, Hop, Rush, Bat, Speck, and Snapper? I love it. Anything goes with those boys and I have lists of names scrawled everywhere in my magic notebook where I jot ideas. Some of them are crazy and I hope to get to use them, like Moose. Some of them are crazy cool and I hope I get to use them, like Preacher. Some of them are just crazy and I’ll probably never use them, like Destroyer. But all of them are fun.
All my characters’ names, nicknames, and the endearments they use with each other, friends, and family mean a great deal to me. Mostly because all of them and everything they do exists in a perfectly real unreality in my head. They’re with me all the time. They’re mine. I created them. And just like a parent naming a child, these perfectly real unreal beings are precious to me as are the names they chose for themselves.
I just hope they keep it exciting.
From the desk of Amanda Scott
Dear Reader,
The setting for a story is as important as any other plot element, sometimes more so. Therefore, when I decided to pattern the heroines of my Lairds of the Loch trilogy after the Greek Fates Atropos, Lachesis, and Clotho (who became the ladies Andrena, Lachina, and Muriella MacFarlan), I realized that they’d need a setting equal to their creative “heritage.”
I wanted the three to have gifts based on instincts that we all still share to some degree, but exaggerated, because in those days such instincts must have been stronger for survival. Shortly after that I began wondering if the story’s setting might play a more active role of its own. You see, it had to be a defensible place. Their father, Andrew, the true chief of Clan Farlan, had managed to defend it for nearly twenty years against the treacherous cousin who usurped the rest of his vast estates and murdered his three sons.
The result is Tùr Meiloach (pronounced Toor MIL-ock), meaning “a small tower guarded by giants,” but also referring to the estate’s reputation as a sanctuary for “true” MacFarlans. Over time, the rugged land where the tower sits has acquired an eerie reputation that daunts most would-be visitors. Birds and beasts of the forest are said to be wilder and more vicious there than elsewhere, and men swear that bogs reach out to drown unwary trespassers. The mountainous terrain is replete with rivers too wild to ford; high, spiny ridges; and deep chasms with walls likely to crumble at a man’s touch and bury him.
Legends abound of men, even whole armies, vanishing there.
Through various strategies, Andrew has succeeded in keeping Tùr Meiloach safe from invasion, but his primary goal is to marry his daughters to well-connected warriors who can help him win back his entire chiefdom.
Lady Lachina “Lina” MacFarlan, the heroine of THE KNIGHT’S TEMPTRESS, has the gift of foresight but doesn’t know it and doesn’t trust the odd sense she has that something bad is about to happen (such as being captured by rebels who have seized Dumbarton Castle). Nor does she recognize Sir Ian Colquhoun as her hero.
She agrees that he is a handsome knight of great renown but thinks he is too reckless, too impulsive, and never thinks things through.
Sir Ian can’t resist a challenge and has thought since Lina was eight years old that she is too calmly dignified, so her serenity always stirs him to unsettle it. He is not interested in marriage. Besides, he is wary of her wily father and his strange estate, but the lass is dangerously attractive.
Find out what happens when Sir Ian decides to rescue Lina and her friend Lizzie Galbraith from the “impregnable” royal stronghold of Dumbarton, and the King of Scots commands him to recapture it. Sir Ian’s answer became the Colquhouns’ clan motto, “ Si je puis,” or “If I can.”
I hope you enjoy reading THE KNIGHT’S TEMPTRESS.
Meantime, Suas Alba!
Sincerely,
www.amandascottauthor.com
Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
