Shadow of Intrigue
Lantern Beach Romantic Suspense, Book 2
Christy Barritt
Contents
Complete Book List
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
Epilogue
Also by Christy Barritt:
Other Books in the Lantern Beach Mystery Series:
You might also enjoy …
Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries:
The Worst Detective Ever:
About the Author
Complete Book List
Squeaky Clean Mysteries:
#1 Hazardous Duty
#2 Suspicious Minds
#2.5 It Came Upon a Midnight Crime (novella)
#3 Organized Grime
#4 Dirty Deeds
#5 The Scum of All Fears
#6 To Love, Honor and Perish
#7 Mucky Streak
#8 Foul Play
#9 Broom & Gloom
#10 Dust and Obey
#11 Thrill Squeaker
#11.5 Swept Away (novella)
#12 Cunning Attractions
#13 Cold Case: Clean Getaway
#14 Cold Case: Clean Sweep
While You Were Sweeping, A Riley Thomas Spinoff
The Sierra Files:
#1 Pounced
#2 Hunted
#3 Pranced
#4 Rattled
#5 Caged (coming soon)
The Gabby St. Claire Diaries (a Tween Mystery series):
The Curtain Call Caper
The Disappearing Dog Dilemma
The Bungled Bike Burglaries
The Worst Detective Ever
#1 Ready to Fumble
#2 Reign of Error
#3 Safety in Blunders
#4 Join the Flub
#5 Blooper Freak
#6 Flaw Abiding Citizen
#7 Gaffe Out Loud (coming soon)
#8 Joke and Dagger (coming soon)
Raven Remington
Relentless 1
Relentless 2 (coming soon)
Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries:
#1 Random Acts of Murder
#2 Random Acts of Deceit
#2.5 Random Acts of Scrooge
#3 Random Acts of Malice
#4 Random Acts of Greed
#5 Random Acts of Fraud
#6 Random Acts of Outrage
#7 Random Acts of Iniquity (coming soon)
Lantern Beach Mysteries
#1 Hidden Currents
#2 Flood Watch
#3 Storm Surge
#4 Dangerous Waters
#5 Perilous Riptide
#6 Deadly Undertow
Lantern Beach Romantic Suspense
Tides of Deception
Shadow of Intrigue
Storm of Doubt (coming soon)
Carolina Moon Series:
Home Before Dark
Gone By Dark
Wait Until Dark
Light the Dark
Taken By Dark
Suburban Sleuth Mysteries:
Death of the Couch Potato’s Wife
Cape Thomas Series:
Dubiosity
Disillusioned
Distorted
Standalone Romantic Mystery:
The Good Girl
Suspense:
Imperfect
The Wrecking
Standalone Romantic-Suspense:
Keeping Guard
The Last Target
Race Against Time
Ricochet
Key Witness
Lifeline
High-Stakes Holiday Reunion
Desperate Measures
Hidden Agenda
Mountain Hideaway
Dark Harbor
Shadow of Suspicion
The Baby Assignment
Nonfiction:
Characters in the Kitchen
Changed: True Stories of Finding God through Christian Music (out of print)
The Novel in Me: The Beginner’s Guide to Writing and Publishing a Novel (out of print)
Chapter One
Lisa Garth trudged up the wooden outdoor steps, propping a paper bag full of groceries on her hip.
What a day.
What a week, for that matter.
If Lisa hadn’t promised her friends Ty and Cassidy that she would help them out, she would be at home cuddled up with a book and a cup of tea right now. Instead, she’d fulfill her promise to fill in for them while they were away to celebrate Ty’s mom’s birthday.
Lisa reached the screened-in porch at the top of the stairs and froze. Slowly, she craned her neck to look behind her and scanned the darkness beyond the porch. Was someone watching her?
What? No. That was crazy. Who would be watching her out here?
John Linksi’s image came to her mind, but she quickly pushed it out. The man might despise Lisa, but he had no reason to follow her and watch her.
She was just being paranoid.
As she stood exposed, a chilly wind swept around her, embracing her like a friend dead set on betrayal.
Lisa had forgotten just how cold it could feel on Lantern Beach—just as she did every year. Maybe the weather around here was like childbirth. If you remembered how painful it was, you’d never want to experience it again. At least, that was what she’d heard.
While some people looked forward to the quiet, isolated cold of the island’s off-season, Lisa felt an unusual amount of dread this year. Her friends were all finding love and building new lives apart from her. Meanwhile, she sometimes felt as isolated as this island.
Shoving the thoughts aside, Lisa pounded at the door and waited.
She heard no signs of life inside the house and paused, contemplating her options.
A man named Braden Dillinger was coming to stay in Lantern Beach for the next week or two. He’d be using Ty and Cassidy’s house while they were gone.
Ty had hired Lisa to act as hostess while Braden was here. It would provide her some extra cash in the slow season—and it would give her something to do. Since Lisa’s restaurant, the Crazy Chefette, was only open on Saturdays and Sundays during the off-season, she had some time to spare.
Ty had also mentioned that his friend had some type of disability, but he hadn’t clarified exactly what. It didn’t matter. Braden’s issues weren’t any of Lisa’s business.
She hadn’t seen any vehicles outside the cottage, which seemed to confirm her initial theory that Braden hadn’t arrived yet. That was another vague detail—his arrival time. Maybe Lisa should have asked more questions, but it was too late for that now.
Grabbing the spare key Ty had given her, she shoved it in the lock and opened the door.
Lisa stuck her head through the doorway and, just to be certain, called out, “Hello?”
No response.
Braden obviously wasn’t here yet.
Perfect. This would give Lisa time to get dinner going so when Braden arrived, he could have a warm meal. She could greet him like the friendly hostess she was and then leave him in peace to eat.
Dee
d done.
Afterward, she’d drink her tea, read her book, and recover from her day.
Lisa set her bag on the kitchen counter and glanced around. Just like she’d figured, Ty and Cassidy had left everything tidy for their guest.
Her friends lived in this oceanside cottage, which was being transformed into what they called Hope House. Ty planned to make it a retreat center for military veterans who needed time away from their jobs—and their everyday lives—in order to heal both physically and emotionally.
The place wasn’t quite ready to open yet for occupants. Ty had added a second story as well as reconfigured the layout downstairs. It was beautiful now with its whitewashed walls, beams on the ceiling, and sea-glass-colored accessories. The common area featured a combination kitchen, dining room, and living room.
Using her phone, Lisa turned on her favorite playlist before pulling out the items she’d purchased at the store. She hadn’t been sure what to make for Braden, but she’d decided on a chicken fajita pasta bake. Italian and Mexican food in one? It was the best of both worlds.
She sang along with “That’s Amore” as she worked, trying to loosen up.
As soon as Lisa started to cook, she felt herself relax. Nothing calmed her like working in the kitchen—which was probably why she’d chosen to open a restaurant for a living. It was so much better than working in a lab.
Except for days like today. Days when John Linksi made her life miserable. She scowled as she remembered their earlier encounter.
She’d run into the man at the general store, where he’d berated her in front of other shoppers about what a horrible chef she was. She’d held her tears back while in the store, but as soon as she got into her car she’d let them flow.
Usually people’s criticisms didn’t get to her, but today it had felt different.
Probably because John used to be a food critic for Good Eating magazine. At one time, he’d been esteemed in the culinary community.
Now, he was just the town drunk. Tragedy had turned his life upside down five years ago, from what Lisa had heard. She didn’t even know what had happened—only that John was never the same.
That still didn’t give the man the right to speak to her the way he had today.
It was bad enough that he’d gone to every online site and written bad reviews. They were scathing reviews, for that matter. Then today he’d told everyone within earshot she was a hack, that her food tasted awful, and that she had no place here in Lantern Beach.
Usually, Lisa didn’t believe him. But today the lies felt more like the truth, and she had no idea why. Maybe she was just in a funk. She’d call it the pre-winter doldrums. But she couldn’t get his words out of her head.
While the food sizzled, Lisa walked to the window, shoved the curtain aside, and peered outside. Dunes stared back as well as part of the gravel lane leading toward the house. She didn’t see anyone out here watching her, even though she thought she’d sensed someone else’s presence when she’d arrived. Maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Nor did she see any signs of headlights on the road in the distance.
Just when would Braden get here? Lisa supposed if he arrived too late, she would just leave the food out, and Braden could warm it at his convenience. She wouldn’t get any bonus points as hostess of the year, but she had to be flexible here. After all, tea and a good book were calling.
As she turned back to the kitchen, a creak sounded behind her.
Before she could react, an arm looped around her throat. It tightened and squeezed like an anaconda capturing its prey.
Lisa’s heart rate ricocheted as she tried to get a breath, to comprehend what was happening.
“Who are you?” a gruff voice barked into her ear. “And how did you find me?”
Braden Dillinger’s adrenaline pumped so hard that he could feel the veins in his neck throbbing as he put the intruder into a chokehold.
Intruder?
No, that word made her seem too unassuming. This woman was a killer. An assassin. A terrorist. Braden wasn’t sure which yet.
“Please, let go of me.” The woman’s voice sounded strained against his arm. “You’re hurting me.”
She clawed at him, her nails digging into his skin. Braden didn’t care. He’d been through far worse on the battlefield and in warzones—places so horrible that they didn’t exist on paper. He had more enemies than he could count, and most were nameless and faceless. That made everything even more difficult.
“I’m just here to cook,” the woman rasped, struggling beneath his hold on her.
She tried to fight, yet her strength seemed subdued—more so than Braden had expected for a professional.
Something tried to register in his brain, but the thought wouldn’t fully form.
Had she said she was here to cook? A likely excuse.
“Who are you?” Braden demanded, still not letting his guard down.
He couldn’t.
Not when someone was trying to kill him. There had already been a hit-and-run attempt, along with his bank account being drained. Whoever was behind the attempts on his life wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted: Braden dead.
And Braden wouldn’t put it past them to send a beautiful woman to do the job. No, he knew who was behind the threats: a network of criminals who thought Braden had wronged them.
And that made it harder.
Because it meant there wasn’t just one face he had to watch for. No, the person sent to kill him could be anyone.
The gratingly happy background music was a nice touch. The tune made the woman seem innocent, as did her jeans and black T-shirt. When he’d stepped from the shower and heard movement in the house, Braden had known his enemy had found him and was making his next play.
“I’m . . . Lisa Garth.” Her voice cracked with desperation. “Ty Chambers . . . hired me.”
Braden’s grip loosened. Ty? Had his friend told him he was hiring someone to come here?
Braden squeezed his eyes shut and whipped his head back and forth in short, jerky motions. If only the action would shake his brain back into proper function.
Was this a trick? A distraction? Or had Braden’s mind failed him again?
“Please.” The woman’s hands continued to claw his arm, and her voice sounded thin enough to break. “You’re hurting me. And dinner is going to burn. Let me go.”
She sounded earnest and scared. Now that she’d mentioned it, Braden did smell onions and peppers. Could she be telling the truth?
Cautiously, he released the woman and stepped back.
That was when Braden caught a glimpse of her face.
Her lovely face and bright eyes that matched her sweet-smelling blonde hair. He had noticed the scent just seconds earlier. Watermelon.
One of his favorite aromas.
But there was also another scent. Was that patchouli?
An odd combination.
The woman’s eyes widened as her survival instincts seemed to kick in. As she turned to him, she grabbed a huge whelk shell from the end table beside her and held it toward him like brass knuckles. The fear was still in her eyes, but a new emotion was there also. Self-preservation, maybe?
But did she really think she could defend herself with a whelk shell?
“Who are you?” The veins at her neck bulged, and her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as she stared him down. “Maybe you’re the one who should be explaining.”
“I’m Braden.” He took a step back, a wave of regret washing over him.
What had he been thinking? How had this situation escalated so quickly? But after he’d stepped out of the bathroom and seen this woman, he’d been sure she was the one behind those threats. One of the last messages he’d received had said Braden would be taken unaware. The next thing he knew, he’d found this stranger in the house and . . .
“My friend Ty owns this place,” he finally said.
The woman glanced at his arms, and confusion crossed her gaze. “But .
. .”
“But what?” Braden wasn’t sure what she was getting at or why she looked so puzzled.
She shook her head a little too adamantly. “Nothing. Ty should have told you about me. I’m Lisa, and I’m supposed to be acting as hostess while you’re here. I own a restaurant on the island. The Crazy Chefette.”
Braden squinted, trying to remember the last conversation with his friend. Had Ty said that? Probably. His memory felt so fuzzy right now. Braden had told Ty about the issues he’d been having since returning from the Middle East. Memory lapses were just one of many. Yet sometimes Braden would have rather lost a limb than live with this kind of uncertainty.
“You can put the shell down.” Braden raised his hands, a mixture of apology and mild amusement in his voice. “I’m sorry. I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
Lisa narrowed her eyes, still holding her weapon. Anger flared in her gaze again. “I’m sorry is not going to do it. I thought you were going to kill me.”
“I thought you’d broken in. I was in the shower, so I didn’t hear you come inside. I came down and . . .”
“You thought I’d broken in and started to cook for you?” Disbelief stretched through her voice.
Braden squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t make much sense now that she said it that way. But his brain . . . it was a minefield within itself lately. Things that had once seemed normal and logical were now out of whack.
Lisa stared at him, obviously still processing their conversation. Finally, she lowered the shell onto the table, and her shoulders seemed to relax—but only by a fraction.
“There was no car out front.” Her voice cracked as she raised her chin.
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