Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Dana Mentink (novels to improve english txt) 📗
- Author: Dana Mentink
Book online «Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Dana Mentink (novels to improve english txt) 📗». Author Dana Mentink
His voice gentled. “Yes. I’ve been looking into her, after Beckett called me. Sorry it’s taken me a while. She doesn’t have a record. She writes for an online newspaper.”
Laney caught Beckett’s eye. So she’d been telling the truth. The tension in her stomach let go a notch. “She said she was doing an article on Pauline’s murder.”
“That’s outside her wheelhouse,” Jude said. “She does the fluff stuff—community events, gardening tips and the like. Not investigative pieces.”
“Maybe she’s looking to switch gears?” Laney suggested. “Make a name for herself?”
“Possible. I’ll continue to dig and see what I can unearth.”
Beckett pulled in a breath. “I…uh… Thank you. For checking her out. I really appreciate it.”
Laney was surprised by Beckett’s humility. She added her own thanks. At least they could take Rita off the suspect list. She might be hankering to write an exposé to lift herself up the ladder, but that wasn’t a crime. “Thanks for calling, Jude.”
But he wasn’t finished. “But there’s one more thing you should know. Rita’s hometown… It’s Baileyville, Oregon.”
The headline flashed into Laney’s brain. Nurse from Small Oregon Town Slain in Death Valley. Though she’d tried hard not to read the avalanche of articles, she’d not been able to avoid them all. She remembered a few of the details. Pauline Sanderson, age forty-two, was a sports enthusiast who played on the Baileyville Broncos soccer team.
She sank down on a folding chair. “You mean Rita is from the same town as Pauline?”
“Yes.”
She could see the shock on Beckett’s features. “Did they know each other?”
“I haven’t found any connection so far other than the hometown as of yet.”
Beckett thanked him and hung up.
They sat in silence for a while, watching the flickering lantern flame. Beckett cracked his knuckles, a habit that used to drive her to distraction.
“There is something going on here that we haven’t figured out yet,” he said.
“It could be there’s nothing sinister in it. Rita knew about Pauline’s murder because she worked for a paper in the same hometown. That’s what sparked her interest in the first place.”
“She didn’t mention it. My gut tells me there’s more to her story.”
“I agree.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “What do you think we should do?”
“Let Jude continue his investigation, and work on one of our own.” He looked hastily at her. “Me, I mean. Not you. You should…”
She sighed. “I know. Stay in my room with Admiral and eat bonbons.”
He laughed and pointed to her belly. “Does Muffin like bonbons?”
She gave him an arch look. “I am dead certain that Muffin will have the good sense to appreciate fine chocolate.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ll have to ask at the chocolate shop for some, those lemon-cream-filled ones you like.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”
“Honey, after you ate the first one, you looked like you’d been given all the secrets of the universe.”
Honey… She allowed a smile. “Only the important ones.”
He looked away suddenly as if it pained him too much. “Yeah,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear, “I will never forget the bliss on your face right then.”
Her cheeks went hot, and she was grateful that the growing darkness hid her from his sight. A snap sounded somewhere behind them, and they both tensed.
A jackrabbit darted across the landscape, enormous ears primed for danger. She exhaled. Eyes wide and leaping at every shadow, she reckoned she was beginning to understand how the poor things must feel.
“I’ll be right back.” Beckett slunk into the darkness, walking to a high point so he could view the road in the distance.
But surely Kenny could not have found them. How would he know where they were? Nowhere on their website did they provide a schedule of their evening tours. Beckett had even made her take down the photo gallery of their previous tours, in case Kenny or anyone else was trying to reconstruct their regular excursions. The breeze borne across the dry ground should have been refreshing, but it felt too chill and she clamped her arms around her body.
Several long minutes passed until Beckett returned and sat in a chair. “No sign of anyone.” He patted her hand.
Without realizing it, she had eased her folding chair closer to his. Determinedly, she edged it away. She would not give him any false signals.
When the silence between them became too awkward, she checked on the food again. The soft pool of golden light from the lantern cheered her.
Levi arrived, leading the small party of riders behind him. The guests appeared to be pleased with the first part of their adventure, chattering and pointing. They dismounted and cleaned their hands with the wet towels she provided, exclaiming over the drama of the abandoned borax mine on the horizon. Rita did not join in the conversation, instead checking her cell phone.
“No service out here,” Beckett told her. “Gotta have a satellite phone. Mountain walls are too high.”
“No problem,” she said. She took a seat and unfurled the napkin in her lap, draining half her glass of ice water.
Laney was happy to be busy serving up the meal, which was devoured in no time. Levi, as usual, picked at his food and passed up the dessert entirely. Everyone else ate hearty portions of the casserole and several of the oatmeal-raisin cookies she’d toted along. Willow arrived, her strawberry hair refusing to stay contained in her hair band. She drove a Jeep with the back end loaded with several tripods and extra cameras.
She swept a hand up at the sheen of stars beginning to reveal themselves in the sky. “No moon and clear skies. The perfect night for starwatching,” she said grandly. Willow’s effervescent personality could not be further removed from her nearly silent brother. “Who’s ready to take some one-of-a-kind photos? We’ll just drive right over that ridge and you will see stars you can’t believe are real.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. With no light pollution, the pitch-black canvas would
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