Sparks fly between a detective and the woman he’s driven to protect

A Cold Case Detectives romance...

Nomadic detective Roman Cooper struggled to carve out a life for himself. But when a suspicious death calls him home, he lets instinct lead him to Kendra Scott. Irresistibly confident, Kendra is certain that someone murdered her sister and insists on working the case with him. Tracking a killer puts them both in jeopardy, and Roman must confront a different threat: the temptation to stay.

Two-time RITA® Award nominee and Golden Quill award-winner JENNIFER MOREY writes single-title contemporary romance and page-turning romantic suspense. She has a geology degree and has managed export programs in compliance with the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR) for the aerospace industry. She lives at the foot of the Rocky Mountains in Denver, Colorado, and loves to hear from readers through her website, jennifermorey.com, or Facebook.

Also By Jennifer Morey

Cold Case Detectives

A Wanted Man

Justice Hunter

Cold Case Recruit

Taming Deputy Harlow

Runaway Heiress

Hometown Detective

The Coltons of Shadow Creek

Mission: Colton Justice

The Coltons of Texas

A Baby for Agent Colton

Ivy Avengers

Front Page Affair

Armed and Famous

One Secret Night

The Eligible Suspect

All McQueen’s Men

The Secret Soldier

Heiress Under Fire

Unmasking the Mercenary

Special Ops Affair

Seducing the Accomplice

Seducing the Colonel’s Daughter

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Hometown Detective

Jennifer Morey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07902-0

HOMETOWN DETECTIVE

© 2018 Jennifer Morey

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“Are you sure about this?”

Roman didn’t glance back at Kendra, who had arrested his senses when she came out of her house dressed like a cat burglar. Sexy as hell.

He heard and felt the click of the lock as he picked it.

“Yes.”

“But if we find anything, it won’t be admitted as evidence.”

He lifted the overhead door. “Only if we take it with us.” Anything they found he’d photograph and leave. Nobody had to know he’d been in this unit.

“I’d never get a warrant without enough cause and we don’t have enough cause. Yet. I hope to find something to go on in here.”

“Something that will give us cause.”

“Yes.” He turned on the light on his hat and turned to Kendra to turn on hers. The light showed him the soft, pretty lines of her face and her green eyes looking up at him, emitting the same heat he felt kindling inside him.

“Don’t look at me like that right now,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you.”

* * *

Be sure to check out the next books in this miniseries.

Cold Case Detectives: Powerful investigations, unexpected passion...

Dear Reader,

When I decided to write Hometown Detective, I wanted to set the story in a charming small town. I picked Chesterville, West Virginia (which is a fictitious town, as are most of the towns in my stories), because of its location near Monongahela National Forest in the Appalachian Mountains. So, the town is as dear to me as the characters. Roman Cooper is a hometown man. He just needs the right woman to bring him back there!

Curl up in your cozies and see how a Christmas shop entrepreneur and a reluctant, sexy detective overcome personal obstacles as they chase down a killer. You may also want to check out my other Cold Case Detectives books. I am beginning to build up quite a few.

Sincerely,

Jennifer Morey

For Mom. Wish you were here to see this.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

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

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

The bakery owner approached the checkout counter with an anniversary bouquet and Kendra Scott’s day brightened. One of her regulars, she knew him by name. She also gave him some of her business, but not because she felt obligated. Denny and his wife made the best pastries she’d ever tasted. A big guy, his lumbering gait made him seem like a teddy bear in an intimidating body. Kendra adored her customers, especially those who showed genuine love for their spouses. She also adored them when they kept her busy or provided much needed distractions over the last few days.

Waiting for Dark Alley Investigations to send a detective was beginning to grate on her. When would someone call? Jasper Roesch had told her he’d assign someone to her case, but so far no one had come. She was anxious to get started on the investigation into her twin sister’s murder. She called it murder but the police hadn’t. Yet. She’d get them to change their minds. Her twin sister did not commit suicide.

Denny made it to the counter and placed the bouquet down.

“What anniversary is this?” Kendra asked.

“Forty-two.” Denny smiled, showing big boxy teeth that somehow matched his jean overalls over a white Henley. At first glance, he’d strike most as a local farmer, but he ran the town bakery with his wife. Kendra seldom met people married as long as them. Or as happy.

“What’s your secret?”

Denny chuckled. “Tolerance.”

She laughed with him as she finished his transaction, aware of another person in line behind him. “It can’t be that simple.” No amount of tolerance would have saved her closest encounter with love. She also found that choice of word peculiar. Tolerance could be a negative thing.

Denny sobered. “It’s about respect. If you both have respect for each other, there’s nothing you can’t weather in a marriage. If you can’t respect the person you’re with, then you shouldn’t be with them.”

“That’s good advice.” People like him and his wife were a breath of fresh air. They never deviated from genuine honesty.

“You’ll find it someday,” Denny said.

She scoffed. “I’m doing just fine on my own. No hurry for that.”

“Then you’ll get the real deal.” Denny took the bouquet. “Have a good night.”

“Tell your wife Happy Anniversary for me.”

“Will do.” He left the counter and the next patron approached.

A short, skinny boy of maybe fifteen put a flowering plant and four Fourth of July ornaments onto the counter. Odd for a kid his age, not to mention the holiday was a couple of months away. She had ornaments for every holiday, all year round.

“Nice choice.” She tried to place him but didn’t recognize him. “You from around here?”

“My mom went to see a friend. I came in here to blow some time. We live across town.”

Chesterville was big enough not to know everyone, but Kendra had gotten to know quite a few in the year she’d been here. She didn’t know this kid and didn’t believe he’d come into a Christmas shop because he liked the decor.

“Well, thanks for coming in to blow time.” She smiled as she tallied up his purchases.

After a while, the boy asked, “You’re that lady who called that famous detective agency, aren’t you?”

Ah, there it was. The real reason. “Word travels all the way across town, huh?”

“My mom comes this way a lot. She grew up on this side.”

She wouldn’t get into that. The kid sounded like this side wasn’t the better side but he was pretty young. This side had the most history in Chesterville, and the town center, which had been maintained wonderfully.

“I did go to Dark Alley Investigations.”

“I see that man on TV a lot.”

He meant Kadin Tandy. He and his agency frequently made the news. She waited for him to get to what he really wanted to know.

“Do you think your sister was really murdered?”

She could understand how the boy would take interest in a local hiring a private detective agency to look into her sister’s suicide. Murder in a small town didn’t go unnoticed. But this boy seemed more focused on the fame of DAI, a morbid hero worship. She’d better not encourage him.

She handed him a bag and pushed the plant toward him. “Thanks for coming in today.”

The boy took the bag and cradled the plant in one arm. “Do you think I could meet the detective?”

“I don’t know who they’re going to send.” If they sent anyone. She hadn’t heard from them.

Seeing a car drive up in front, she said to the boy, “Looks like your mother is all finished.”

The boy looked back and then, with one last look at her, reluctantly headed toward the exit.

With the last ring of the storefront door, Kendra clicked on her computer to close out the day. Elegant, upbeat modern classical music still played softly, and now that the sun had set, Christmas tree lights glittered beautifully. Matching bows and ribbons drew the eye. Accessories, bouquets and plants popped multiple colors from shopping counters. Customers could meander through the artful displays. This was her favorite time of day. Evening, all alone in her dream come true. If only her sister was alive to share this. Kendra had moved from Chicago after her death. She felt closer to her here.

Closing down the computer, she left the counter to tidy up and lock the front door. She never tired of seeing the creativity that filled the ample space of her flower shop. Not a typical flower shop, hers specialized in Christmas. She did generate enough business in the off-season to stay profitable, though. Being located in a prime section of Main Street did help.

Nothing in her shop disappointed. Color and texture flowed. Aroma charmed the senses. Music relaxed. A cleaning service kept everything looking fresh and new. She took great pains to maintain flawless presentation.

At one side of the shop, attractive pendant lighting spotlighted small round tables in the coffee and pastry section, a corner wall of shelves filled with books and magazines covering topics ranging from home improvement to gardening added to the inviting coziness. She put books and magazines back in their place, and then headed for the display counters, righting a fallen stuffed bear and turning vases for the best angle. On the other side of the shop, slide-open refrigerators took up most of the wall. Nothing looked out of place in there.

Her best friend in college called her tenacious. Kendra called it ambition. Drive. Maybe even survival.

Winding her way through decorated Christmas trees, she went to the front door and inserted the key to turn the lock. Outside, streetlights lit the sidewalk. No cars drove by at nearly nine-thirty and no one walked the street. The pub at the corner across the street always had someone coming in or out. A man stood near the door, leaning on a lamppost, one black-booted foot crossed over the other. He seemed to be looking at her.

She couldn’t see him clearly. Lean rather than noticeably muscular, he towered over others passing on the way to the pub. He had dark, wavy short hair and wore a black short-sleeved golf shirt with light blue jeans. With his face still directed toward her, she had the feeling he wasn’t bothered that she saw him.

Apprehension crept over her. Most believed Kaelyn Johnston had committed suicide as the coroner had ruled. No one had questioned that until Kendra had called Dark Alley Investigations. While Kaelyn had died in a small, off-the-map town in Michigan, she had spent her adopted years in Chesterville, West Virginia.

If Kaelyn had been murdered, her killer wouldn’t want anyone exposing him, least of all an infamous investigations agency. She always grew nervous when she spotted suspicious strangers. The one across the street didn’t approach, only stayed where he was, watching. Maybe she had nothing to worry about. And why would the killer take an interest in her now, after all this time she’d been here? Hiring DAI could provoke a killer, but DAI hadn’t taken the case yet.

Leaving the front windows, Kendra let the music, lights and ambience take her away. They didn’t take her far enough. She went to the back of the shop, through a wooden door into her office, and sat behind the desk to close out the day. The man watching her disturbed her. He might have nothing to do with her sister’s murder, but how would she know that?

She looked down at the notes she’d made over the last several months. Before her sister had died, they had been in contact. Kaelyn had found her after months of searching. They had just begun to get to know each other again, filling in the gap from when they were six. Kendra had loved every phone call and meeting. Kaelyn had always arranged for them to meet in Chesterville. A few times, she’d gone to Chicago to see Kendra. She was thrilled to have some semblance of a family again. But toward the end, Kaelyn had hinted at some darkness. While she had told her many good things about her life, she’d touched on some others that weren’t. Her husband abused her. Kaelyn hadn’t come out and said the word abused but Kendra could read between the lines.

Then Kaelyn had killed herself. Or so everyone thought.

At first, Kendra had believed her sister had committed suicide. The devastation had overwhelmed her. Why would Kaelyn do such a thing? Her sister ending her life didn’t make sense. The Kaelyn she’d met hadn’t seemed to have reached that point. She’d seemed to have been keeping something troubling from Kendra, but she’d had too much life in her and far too much excitement over reuniting with her twin sister.

Only after her sister’s death had she realized Kaelyn had told no one about her. When she’d shown up at the funeral, no one recognized her, not by name or appearance. They were fraternal twins, not identical, so it hadn’t been surprising that no one had identified her. What she did find surprising was that she and Kaelyn had been corresponding for months. They’d even talked about the possibility of moving to Chesterville. Kaelyn said she would leave her husband and asked if Kendra would relocate. That had been a big request and Kendra had needed time to think on it. Kaelyn had died before she could agree to the fabulous idea. Kaelyn’s parents were in Chesterville. Her daughter had still been in high school so Kaelyn would have taken her with her. Kendra would have a family again. But then Kaelyn had died.

Why had Kaelyn kept her twin a secret from those in her life? There could be only one explanation. Kaelyn must had intended to use Kendra as an escape route. She would build a new life in Chesterville that didn’t include her abusive husband. Plus, if he’d known his wife was talking to her twin, he may have felt threatened enough to stop her from corresponding, especially if he knew Kendra planned to move to Chesterville, where the two of them could see each other much more often.

She’d confirmed her own suspicions when she’d learned Kaelyn’s husband had been abusing her and Kaelyn’s plans to leave weren’t just talk. Kaelyn would have moved back to Chesterville. Kendra had no proof, only a certainty that her twin would not have committed suicide.

After learning Kaelyn’s daughter, Raelyn, had moved to Chesterville after she’d graduated from college, Kendra had decided to move here. She had felt so robbed after Kaelyn had been taken from her when she’d only just begun to get to know her again. Being close to her daughter was all she had left now. They could make a fragmented family but a family nonetheless.

Raelyn had moved in with her grandmother until she’d gotten her own place. Adoptive grandmother notwithstanding, Raelyn must have come here not only to get away from her horrible father, but to be close to the only family she felt she had.

Kendra had spoken to Raelyn on several occasions, first shortly after Kaelyn’s funeral, then when she followed her to Chesterville. The twenty-two-year-old was uncomfortable welcoming her mother’s twin. She harbored a lot of anger, Kendra presumed, because by killing herself, Kaelyn left her daughter alone with an abusive dad. Kendra decided to leave her be, telling her to call when she was ready to talk. That had been a year ago. Kendra had lived in Chesterville for two years so far and Kaelyn had been murdered almost five years ago.

Kendra remembered the man outside and decided not to stay too late. Getting her things, she went downstairs and left through the back door. Searching for any sign of someone lingering, she walked down the alley toward her house.

* * *

After watching Kendra close her shop, Roman Cooper walked down the street toward the historic hotel where he’d checked in earlier. He planned to meet with Kendra in the morning, write his report and head back to Wyoming. The redheaded beauty moved in her element like a fiery angel. Tall and slender, thick hair left down and natural, she smiled at everyone and spent most of her time ringing in purchases. A zombie apocalypse could be happening all around her but she would go on and continue prospering. Just watching her agitated him enough to light up a smoke. Too bad he’d quit.

He could spot people like her a mile away. Life’s bounty fell at their feet. They had charmed, sheltered childhoods, lacked neither money nor imagination, and they only had to reach out and take anything they decided to have. Career. Money. House. Business. Whatever they desired. Nothing bad ever happened to them and they lived in denial that anything ever would. Maybe nothing bad would until the day they died. Roman didn’t live that way. He had no illusions of how awful life could be for some people. Not following a dream—or even knowing what to dream about—only made it worse. That was the biggest unfairness for him, not knowing his true calling. Meeting people like Kendra reminded him of that. She probably lived with the happy satisfaction that she had found her calling.

Ambition. Failure before success. Yeah, he got all that. Ambition had gotten him where he was today. What he could never grasp is how people like Kendra Scott knew what they wanted in life. How did anyone know that? Did an idea drop into their brain one random night or were they born with it already implanted?

Roman wasn’t a hopeless pessimist. He could relax and have a good time with anyone. He just couldn’t live in a cushy bubble that blocked reality.

He passed familiar shops along his way, reminded again of Kendra’s graceful yet wild attractiveness. Okay, he had to admit her striking beauty did have something to do with his reluctance to meet her. She might lasso him into sticking around too long.

Damn Kadin for sending him here. He’d done that on purpose.

* * *

Kendra left Lund’s Bakery as she did every Wednesday morning with a box of scones. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she collided with someone who had just appeared in the opening of the bakery. Bouncing backward, she bumped against the still-open door, and with her hand still gripping the handle, her arm wrenched.

“Ah!”

The man moved back quick enough. Supporting her arm, he steadied her so that she could free her hand from the handle.

Holding her fingers, she looked up from legs to hips to impressive chest to the face she’d seen last night. Although he’d been across the street, there was no mistaking his build and the general way he held himself. Tall and imposing, he held an aura of fearless confidence and something darker.

She took two steps back. “You.”

Light gray eyes changed from concern to questioning. “Me?”

“I...I saw you outside my...my shop...last night.” Maybe she shouldn’t reveal that. What if he was a killer?

She took another step back.

Taking note of her reaction, he grew shrewdly alert. “Were you looking for someone?”

Why would he ask her that? “No.”

“You’re just observant?”

“Who the hell are you?” She’d hardly tell a stranger his impressive build had drawn her attention to him, a peppering of sexy along with a dash of danger.

A half grin almost softened the hardness in his eyes. “Roman Cooper. Dark Alley Investigations. Didn’t anyone let you know I was coming?”

No one had called her. Maybe Jasper Roesch thought Roman could introduce himself. He had promised to send someone.

She took in Roman’s appearance, rugged but not unkempt. He was quite good-looking in a less than soft way. He was a detective? Although clean and lean, he carried the air of a rebel, a darkly handsome one. No reserved gentleman stood before her. He struck her as the type who let nothing stand in his way. She pictured detectives as more refined, caring more about appearances than their service to humanity.

“Why were you spying on me last night?” she asked.

He hesitated and that gave him away. “It was late.”

Why did he lie? “Jasper said he was going to send a detective. I was hoping he’d change his mind and take the case himself.”

“He’s busy getting married and having a baby right now.”

He didn’t sound impressed. In fact, he sounded a little condescending, as though marriage should never take priority over a case.

“Did you look into my sister’s case?”

“She doesn’t have a case,” he said. “The coroner’s report told me everything I needed to know. I agree with his assessment.”

Anger billowed up in a wave. So typical of what she expected in some people! “It is easier to agree with what’s already there. What were you going to do? Leave town without talking to me?”

“I would have met with you and you would have received a copy of my report.”

“But now that you’ve conveniently run into me, you don’t have to?” She wiped her hands together. “Problem solved?”

“I don’t mean to upset you.”

“There are other aspects to this case. You can’t just read a coroner’s report and agree with it. What if the coroner was wrong?”

“He’s a good coroner.”

“Good coroners can make honest mistakes.”

His handsome head bent a little, as though beseeching for understanding. “I have other cases.”

He wasn’t being rude. He truly believed Kaelyn killed herself. That stung. “There are things you don’t know that are important.”

Now his brow rose marginally. “What things?”

“Why don’t you just admit you don’t care enough about my sister’s case?”

“Your sister’s death does appear to be a suicide. I’m sorry that’s difficult for you to hear, but that’s my assessment. What things don’t I know?”

Her offense eased as she saw him open up to new information. “We talked a lot before her death,” Kendra said. “Why do you think the police never questioned me?”

“They didn’t need to.”

Her ire pricked again, she said, “Kaelyn told no one about me, Mr. Cooper. I went to her funeral and no one knew me. She kept me a secret. Why would she do that?”

He appeared to begin to consider how that might change his initial assessment, but he didn’t ask any questions, the biggest one being why she and Kaelyn were separated.

“Don’t you see? I was part of Kaelyn’s plan to escape her horrible husband. If she could get away without him knowing where she was going, she could be free. She would have run away and come to live near me. I’m sure of it.”

Roman studied her a moment, his face unreadable. Then he lightened and asked, “Why don’t you tell me more over a drink later?”

Unable to believe he’d suggested that, she gaped at him. Had he just asked her out on a date?

He nodded down the street toward the pub. “There. After you close tonight.”

Kendra felt her jaw drop open, smart retorts popping to mind but not making their way to her tongue.

“Unless you’d rather I just send you the report?”

Chapter 2

Roman saw Kendra walking toward him on the sidewalk and felt a surge of triumph. He hadn’t been sure she’d take the bait and meet him. He didn’t think anything she said about her sister’s death would change his initial assessment, but the contacts she’d had with her sister and their secretive nature had compelled him to at least follow up. And this wouldn’t be a complete waste of time if he shared a nice evening with a beautiful woman. His drive to avenge victims led him to where he was most needed and he had other cases that needed him more than it appeared Kendra needed him, but one night wouldn’t harm anything.

As she neared, he took in her form in a wide-leg, Jackie O–looking jumpsuit with a draped neckline, cap sleeves and a leather belt. He could see the hint of movement of her breasts and a slender waistline. She moved gracefully, long legs gliding along. She’d moved similarly in her shop last night, an angel in silhouette.

She stopped right before him. “The only reason I’m here is to talk about Kaelyn’s murder.”

“And have a drink with me.” He held the pub door open for her.

She eyed him suspiciously as she passed.

Pete’s Old Ale House teemed with business on this Wednesday evening. Workers celebrated hump day and others participated in a dart tournament. The bartender waved from behind the bar and Roman saw Kendra wave back. The fresh flowers on each round table and booth indicated the owner had a running account with her shop. She probably had a similar relationship with the baker. She must be well-known in town and have a good reputation. Marketing prowess or genuine lover of mankind? He’d met many ambitious women like her and none of them cared more about him than their passion for achievement. Still, something about her drew him in.

He followed her to the only round table left vacant. A group of men dressed in business casual laughed about the day’s highlights at the table next to them. Two women leaned forward toward each other at a booth in an intense girl talk. The dart competition made the most noise, cheers from those standing near the throwing point and nearby tables filled with friends and spouses. Regulars sat at the bar, keeping to themselves or engaging in talk with the fellow beside them.

While not a kid place, the pub was clean and well maintained for its age, which must be more than a hundred years. The wood bar with its ornate and swirling trim looked original, but refurbished, same with the trim around the mirrored wall and shelves of booze bottles. The dark brown wood floor, polished and unblemished, must have been replaced. Modern pendant lighting over the bar and larger fixtures over the dining area provided ample illumination without the glare of brightness. Historical photos on the walls finished the aesthetic appeal.

The bartender spoke to the waitress on his way over to their table. She stopped and went to another table instead.

“Your usual?” the bartender asked.

“Hi, Pete. Yes.”

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Roman said, continuing to observe the pub and its inhabitants.

The bartender returned with frosty mugs of beer.

“Imported lager,” she said, sipping. “Mmm.”

“Do you come here because he buys your flowers or for the beer?” he asked.

She smiled, her bright and sunny personality shining through. “Both. Pete’s a good guy.”

“What about the baker?”

“He and his wife are kindhearted people who love each other. Most of us can only wish we were as lucky.”

She seemed so humble for one who had so much. Uncomfortable with the spark that zapped him unexpectedly, Roman tasted the beer. Not bad. A little light, but not bad.

Her cheerful glow remained and she leaned back, drawing his attention to her teasingly concealed breasts. Why was he so attracted to her? He’d met pretty women like her before. What make her so different? If she was a cop or another detective, or anyone who worked in the trenches like him, he might understand these stirrings of desire. But she didn’t work in the trenches. She had created a perfect world for herself, even surrounding herself with friends like Pete.

Time to slow down this Cupid’s arrow. What better way than to beat her at a game of pool?

Standing, he picked up his beer. “You any good at pool?” He started for the single pool table, neglected on dart tournament night.

Lingering behind a second or two, she at last took her beer and followed. Her slow steps and curious eyes said she suspected his motives. Was this about pool or was this about the two of them?

“I thought we were going to discuss my sister’s case.” She stopped near him beside the pool table.

He choose a cue stick, ignoring how she kept calling her sister’s death a case. He hadn’t decided if it was one or not. “I’d like to get to know my new client before we get into death and destruction.”

“Does that mean you’re going to take the case?”

He had to admit, she had a strong theory that Kaelyn might have intended to run away and live near her secret twin. Kendra hadn’t been mentioned anywhere in any reports he’d read.

“Let’s play pool.” He grinned in a way that often wooed women.

She eyed him warily—she didn’t trust easily. He began to pick up on those undercurrents. She wanted to talk about Kaelyn Johnston’s death, and he wanted to slow things down. She must know or have some idea that he was attracted to her.

Finally, her cautious nature eased a little and she stepped forward to put coins in the old game table. Bent over as she inserted the coins, her eyes lifted and he saw a mischievous smile in them.

“I’m really good at this game,” she said.

Delighted she’d relented and decided to have some fun, he said with equal flirtation, “Let’s find out how good.”

He racked the balls while she chose a stick. He liked watching her move, graceful arms and legs and a shapely butt.

Facing him with a stick, she chalked the end and looked at him.

“You break,” he said.

“You are so going to lose.”

Roman chuckled as he watched her break the balls and sink a solid. Moving around the table for her next shot, she gave him another nice view of her posterior as she made another shot. She sank another solid.

“When Kaelyn and I were six, I remember I was inside playing with dolls and she got mad at me for not wanting to go outside and play on the swing set.” She lowered into position for a more complicated shot and sank yet another solid.

He began to wonder if he’d ever get to play.

“She went outside by herself.” Kendra studied the table for her next shot. “After a while, I stopped playing dolls because I had this awful feeling. My first thought was of Kaelyn.” She poised for another shot and missed this time. Unfazed, she faced him. “I left the bedroom we shared and went to the back door. My mother was out there and lifted Kaelyn. She had blood all over her face. My parents rushed her to the hospital and she had seventeen stitches put in her forehead. She pushed the double swing and it swung back and struck her. I felt so bad after that. If I’d have been with her, she wouldn’t have been hurt.”

What was the point of this story? He didn’t ask.

“I felt that way on and off after we were split up, but I attributed it to my own situation. I felt that way again the day Kaelyn died.”

Roman kept his expression carefully blank. She had a bad feeling the day Kaelyn killed herself? Is that why she thought her twin sister had been murdered? He didn’t do weird. Maybe he should have stuck with meeting for coffee in the morning, report ready and in hand.

“Except this feeling was different. Instead of worry over Kaelyn being hurt, I felt an element of danger, as though Kaelyn might be in bad trouble. I can’t explain it. I only know what I felt, and there can be no coincidence because my twin sister died that day, maybe just shortly after. I felt that way for nearly an hour, and then the feeling sort of...faded. I tried calling and she didn’t answer. The next day, I finally reached her adoptive mother, who told me she’d killed herself.”

Roman wouldn’t comment on what he thought of telepathic twins, or their ability to possess extrasensory perception. He didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural, but he also didn’t disbelieve. She stepped back from the table. “It’s your turn.”

He chose his shot and aimed, missing by an inch. “Where are you from?”

Instead of answering, she studied him awhile. “Why am I getting this feeling you’re trying to make a move on me instead of helping solve Kaelyn’s murder?”

He grinned again and this time not to woo her. She’d made him grin with her wit. No man fooled this woman. He felt attraction mushroom to the realm of uncontrollable.

“Your turn.”

After a knowing, soft smile, she studied the table, and then went to bend for her shot and made it. “I was born in Chicago.”

“Your family moved here after that?”

“No.” Pausing for her next shot, she straightened and looked at him. “Our parents were killed in a mass shooting.”

He didn’t hear that often. Not ever. “That’s terrible.” Now he knew why she and Kaelyn had been apart.

“We were in a bank when some robbers came in with guns. Kaelyn and I got to the floor like Mother said. Our dad tried to stop the robbers and our mother tried to stop him from stopping the robbers. They were shot.”

While he tried to imagine how awful that would be, she made another solid and walked around the table to choose her next move. Did nothing ruffle this woman or was she just calculating?

“That was the beginning of the nightmare,” she said.

She might be baiting him to get him to start asking questions, but what she revealed didn’t jibe with his first impression of her, the polished, successful entrepreneur who’d made a cushy life for herself.

“What happened?” he indulged her by asking. He also wanted to know.

“We became wards of the state. No one wanted to adopt two children, so we were split up. I didn’t know where Kaelyn was taken.” She made her shot and sank another solid and faced him, holding her cue stick upright. “When I was twelve, my adoptive father lost his job. A year went by and he still hadn’t found anything. My adoptive mother didn’t make enough to support us all and things went downhill from there.”

That explanation he hadn’t expected. While she had struck him as one of those fortunate types who did with ease anything they set their mind to do, she hadn’t had an easy start.

He waited for her to shoot again.

“I went hungry a lot and wore the same clothes to school. By the time I was seventeen, our house had been foreclosed and we were living in a trailer. That’s all my adoptive mother could afford.” She bent with her stick and aimed. “The day my adoptive father forgot to pick me up after a school event and a strange man tried to get me to get into his car as I walked home was the day I decided I’d had enough. I ran away. I lived with my best friend’s older sister until I graduated from high school. My adoptive parents didn’t even report me missing.”

She hit the ball hard and it crashed into the hole. “Now you know the background of me and my twin sister, how we got separated anyway.” She sank all the solids except the eight ball. Roman had all of his striped balls still on the table.

Calling the corner hole, she shot the eight ball there. Then, smiling slightly, she held her cue stick upright. “What about you? Everybody has a story. What’s yours? Do you have any tragedies haunting you?”

His childhood had been heaven compared to hers. Heaven compared to most he met. He supposed he should be happy she didn’t use her past to segue into her sister’s case.

“The only tragedies I’ve experienced are the ones victims tell from their graves.” He inserted more coins. “I’ll break this time.”

He racked the balls. As he leaned over and broke, he wondered how Kendra had gone from a runaway to a shop owner. She looked young for her age. Late twenties instead of forty-one, just a couple years younger than him.

He sank two solids. Grinning at her, he moved to his next shot.

She smiled back. “You haven’t told me about your childhood.”

“Nothing to tell.” He made his next shot and sank another ball. “I was an only child of an apothecary and a crime novelist. I grew up in a fantasy world.”

“Crime novelist.” She tapped her forefinger on her lower lip. “William Cooper... The William Cooper? The Australian?”

“You’ve heard of him?” His father was a popular novelist but not the Stephen King variety.

“Who hasn’t heard of him? Wow. You’re the son of a celebrity. And Australian. You have a very subtle accent.”

“I was basically raised in the States.”

“You do have a Rick Grimes kind of look to you,” she said.

Great. She thought he looked like the star of The Walking Dead. “My dad’s not really a celebrity.” He made his next shot and missed. “That was your fault.”

She laughed lightly. “And your mother is a what? What’s an apothecary?”

“She bought an old pharmacy and turned it into an apothecary museum. She studied chemistry in college and developed an odd fascination with herbal medicine.”

“That’s not so odd. What’s odd is they have a son who became a crime detective.” A band had begun to play and she started tapping her foot to the beat.

“That’s odd?”

“Well...maybe not since your dad is a crime novelist. But your profession isn’t as...fascinating as theirs.”

“Are you always this blunt?” He didn’t dislike that about her.

“Best way to be. I wish everyone treated me the same.” Still holding her stick upright, her enchanted expression smoothed and her foot stopped tapping as though something came to her. “Wait a minute. I know that museum. It’s here in Chesterville.” She sucked in a breath. “Are you from here?”

She caught him. They now had a connection. She lived in his hometown. “It’s your turn.”

“You are?”

“Are you going to rob me of my chance to beat you?”

Laughing, she went to make her move, missing the striped ball. “How is it that you’re from here and assigned to my sister’s case?”

“There is no case yet. My boss made me come. He did that on purpose.”

“So you could see your family? How sweet. A lot of bosses aren’t like that.”

“I didn’t want to go see them.” This might venture into the Too Personal zone. When he’d lured her out tonight, he had done it with the intention of sharing a night with her before he went back to work in Wyoming or wherever the need took him. He hadn’t anticipated getting to know her and she him.

“What? Why not?”

He leaned over the table, aiming his stick.

“You do have a tragic story to tell.”

“No, I don’t. I just didn’t feel like seeing them now, that’s all.” He hit a ball and it plunked into a hole.

“They’re your family. Don’t they know you’re here?”

Standing up, he turned and stepped toward her, stopping close. “I came here to see you.” He moved around her to make his next shot, sinking another ball.

“Is it because they’re so much larger than you?”

“No. I love my parents and they love me. I had a painfully normal childhood.” He dropped another ball.

“What is that?” she asked as though she didn’t know.

“Normal. Bedtime stories.” He’d had lots of those. “Be home by ten. Eat your vegetables. Don’t drink. Don’t smoke. Don’t do drugs. You can do anything you put your mind to do. Love you and hugs.”

“What’s so painful about that?”

She didn’t get it and he wasn’t going to explain. His childhood had been painful because it had been so idyllic. But idyllic hadn’t prepared him for the world. All the encouragement to do what his heart told him hadn’t opened his mind and soul to awareness of what his heart told him. His heart hadn’t told him anything. He’d gone to school to become a crime detective because he’d always been fascinated with his father, his imagination, his success. He’d never achieve that kind of success. He had to be satisfied with what he had.

He continued to drop balls up to the eight. He was going to cream her. Noticing her slanted smile, he sensed her good-sport realization that she was going to lose.

Moving to make the final shot, he stopped close to her again, seeing her sparkling green eyes get all flustered again. “Any last words?”

She breathed a shaky laugh, one born of attraction.

He called the hole and won the game.

Wandering over to him, she held her stick in one hand, not having to tip her head back much to look up at his face. He took in her relaxed face that held a hint of flirtation and felt himself responding. “Are you as good at dancing as you are at playing pool?”

“Yes. And I love country music.”

Good because he liked the song the band had started playing.

* * *

By the eighth or ninth song, Kendra wrapped her arms around Roman as the melody slowed. She couldn’t remember having this much fun with anyone. They’d drunk more beer and danced the night away. Last call had been announced and she regretted the night coming to an end. She’d forgotten all about why he’d come to town. She cherished moments like this, when the world’s ugliest blows fell away and only celebration lifted her.

She didn’t think Roman paid much attention to how or why they’d ended up dancing this close, either. Maybe with whatever kept him from seeing his family he needed a getaway, too. Or maybe this had nothing to do with getaways. Maybe they just liked each other.

She leaned back to see his ruggedly handsome face, so dark and edgy with those light gray eyes that could be a wolf’s. His gaze moved down to her mouth, and then slowly rose to her eyes. The beer must be clouding both their judgments.

“All right, folks, time to close up.”

Realizing the band had stopped playing and had begun to pack up their equipment, Kendra stepped back from Roman.

“Why don’t you come back to my hotel room with me and convince me why I should start calling this a case?” Roman asked.

“Do you expect me to seduce you into taking it?”

“There’s nothing to take yet.”

“Stop saying that,” she said, unable to repress a soft laugh.

“And no, I don’t expect you to seduce me. I’d rather this night not end so soon, that’s all.” He swung her into a music-free turn and bent her over his arm.

“Me, neither.”

Grinning, he lifted her up against him.

“Why is that?” she asked with her mouth close to his.

“Let’s not think about it.” Moving back, he took her hand and led her from the pub.

With her head fuzzy and light, she stepped outside with him. “For the record, I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Good.”

She laughed because she heard what she’d been thinking and feeling, that together they’d enjoyed the evening and wanted to keep the momentum going.

Chapter 3

Maybe they just liked each other?

Kendra rolled her head to the side to see Roman’s sleeping face not three inches from hers. She lay in the curve of his arm, with her breast, ribs, hip and leg pressed against him. Thankfully, she still wore her clothes and he his. But how in the world had the night gotten so carried away?

What the hell had she been thinking?

After arriving at the hotel room, Roman had taken care of her, all without infringing on her privacy. She almost liked him. The unpredictability caught her off guard. She hadn’t seen their connection coming. And she had completely forgotten he never answered her question about why he didn’t want to see his parents.

What kind of man was he? She knew nothing about him personally.

Easing away, she sat up, and then stood from the bed. Tiptoeing to the door, she quietly left the room. Finding a pen and notepad, she scrawled a note, her last-ditch effort to get him to change his mind about investigating Kaelyn’s death.

* * *

Standing outside Kaelyn’s best friend’s small two-story Victorian, Roman leaned against the trunk of a tree. He hadn’t given in to the nagging compulsion to investigate Kendra’s twin sister’s death. Yet. He kept telling himself that. Spending last night with her changed the dynamics. The note she’d left, too.

Now he felt something for her. He didn’t think he’d ever had so much fun with a woman before. Hanging with her had been like hanging with one of his buddies. Add the bonus of her hot body and he couldn’t stay away.

He should have left hours ago. He should be deep into investigating a real murder. Like a magnet, Kendra had kept him right here.

“My sister was murdered,” she’d written. “I’m going to talk to Kaelyn’s best friend in two hours. With or without you.”

Then she’d signed her name, a pretty scrawl.

Since that’s where he now stood outside waiting for her, he must have already given in. She’d baited him with that note, probably even planned a visit with the best friend on purpose, to draw him in. He felt the resolve settle in and take hold. Yeah, he wasn’t going anywhere. Even if he proved her wrong and Kaelyn’s death was suicide, he’d stay until the end. He’d investigate her case.

And yeah, he’d even started thinking of this as a case—but only because of what she’d brought to light about being in contact with her long-lost sister. Why had Kaelyn kept her reuniting with Kendra a secret? He had to find out.

He wished he could smoke.

Really. Why was he doing this?

Because she’d go forward without him. Her note told him that much.

Because in the off chance her sister had been murdered, she’d put herself in danger.

Because...

Because he cared.

A few minutes later, Kendra drove up and parked. She saw him before she got out, shock registering before she smiled. She smiled a lot. Her sunny disposition had infected him for sure.

He headed across the street.

“You’re going to scare her standing out here like a stalker,” she said.

“At least she’ll be expecting us.”

He experienced a flare of attraction when he noticed she wore another sexy pantsuit.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. “You look mad.”

Mad? Hungry might be a better word. “Don’t make me start smoking again.” Passing her, he walked to the house.

“How would I make you smoke again? You smoked?” She eyed him as though he didn’t fit the stereotype. “When did you quit?”

“Six months ago. I only want to smoke when I get agitated. You made me stay and take your case.”

“At least you’re calling it a case now.” She winked at him, infecting him more.

Stopping at the door, he rang the bell as he absorbed her beautiful profile, lips still curved smugly.

Blaire Bancroft answered the door. “Kendra.” She turned curious eyes to Roman.

“Hi, Blaire. This is Roman Cooper. He’s the private detective I hired to look into Kaelyn’s death. Would you mind telling him everything you told me?”

So Kendra had planned to trick him into coming here. Of course she would have already talked to her.

“Oh.” Her frown told Roman she didn’t understand the need. “Sure. Come in.”

Before arriving here, Roman had asked an analyst at DAI to look into everyone close to Kaelyn. Blaire and Kaelyn had gone to school together and had both married out of high school. Blaire had stayed in Chesterville. Her husband worked as a mechanic at a local garage and she stayed home with their kids. They’d waited and had them later in their thirties. Kaelyn had left town when her winner of a man dragged her to another town.

Roman entered behind Kendra, and then stood beside her in the small foyer. Blaire’s toddler played on an old, faded rug in front of a television in the small living room. The scuffed wood floor needed refinishing. Through a wide archway, the kitchen looked messy. Breakfast dishes remained on the table and the counters needed a scrubbing. Busy mom.

“How are you?” Blaire asked Kendra. “I hear your shop is doing amazing. I’ve been meaning to stop in.” She glanced at the toddler, who threw a stuffed monkey in the air and then sat transfixed by the Sesame Street episode. “I hate taking him in public, though.”

Kendra laughed a little. “I can see you have your hands full. We won’t take up much of your time. Roman just has a few questions for you.”

Roman loved how she unabashedly volunteered him.

“All right. Sorry for the mess. I was just about to start cleaning the kitchen. It took me a while to get him to settle down.” She thumbed over toward her child.

“How close were you with Kaelyn?” Roman asked, a standard first question.

Blaire glanced at Kendra as though surprised she hadn’t told him. “Very. We were best friends through school and after.”

“You remained close after school? After you were both married?” That would be important if Kaelyn revealed something no one singled out as significant.

“Yes. We talked on the phone a lot and I saw her when she came back to Chesterville, which she did quite often. Her husband only trusted her to go see her mom.” She shook her head with a slight roll to her eyes. “Weird that he’d let her do that but not go out with friends when she was home. Kaelyn must have been able to snow him for once. He must have believed her.”

“Tell Roman about how you suspected Kaelyn was having another affair aside from the one she had with Jasper,” Kendra said.

Blaire looked from him to her, taking some time to think. “I wasn’t really suspicious. One time, she came over and had to leave early. I noticed she seemed anxious. I thought she must have had another fight with her husband, but she said she had another stop to make before she had to get back to her mother’s. I asked her where she was going and she wouldn’t say. She just changed the subject.”

Kaelyn must not have shared the part about the second lover with anyone. Roman supposed he should have sat down with Kendra before coming here and allowed her to explain all she knew so far. Or make sure she did. She’d held out on him, probably for this reason, to get him here and to get him much more curious about the case.

What about Jasper? Kaelyn must have known Jasper could take care of himself. But then, she must have been having this affair here in Chesterville at the same time, so why tell him? And if her husband didn’t trust her with anyone but her mother, she must have been very sneaky to avoid detection.

“When did you last see her?” Roman asked.

“Oh, about two weeks before she died. I spoke with her the day before, though. She told me Jasper broke things off and she was pretty upset over that.”

“Did she talk about her husband?” Roman asked.

“No, not that time.”

“But she did previously,” Kendra said, guiding the direction of the questioning.

“The time before that, when she came to Chesterville, we met for lunch and she had a bruise on her lip,” Blaire said. “I had already suspected her husband was knocking her around. She tried to cover the bruise with makeup but I noticed. I’ve never seen her so low as she was then. She talked about wanting to close her eyes and not wake up so she wouldn’t have to go home to him. She scared me. I didn’t want to leave her alone, but she insisted.”

“Don’t you think it’s possible her husband killed her?” Kendra asked.

“Oh, I’m sure he would have, eventually.”

“Did she ever talk about leaving him?” Roman asked.

“Well, sure. All the time. But it was more like a daydream. I think she was too scared to try.”

“Jasper told her he’d help,” Kendra said.

“And he also told her he wouldn’t be with her. If she was having an affair with someone else who frightened her as much or more than her husband, she didn’t have much to look forward to.”

Roman agreed that only supported her suicide. “You think she killed herself?”

“It’s what the police think. She wasn’t happy. She never talked to me about killing herself but I can see how she’d be driven to that point.” She looked harder at Kendra. “Do you really think she was murdered?”

“I think it’s a definite possibility,” she said. “Whenever I talked to her or when I saw her, she didn’t seem like someone who was about to off herself.”

“Maybe she didn’t want you to worry,” Roman said.

He earned a glower from her.

“Thanks for talking to us, Blaire,” Kendra said, then turned to him again. “Let’s go.”

“Did Kaelyn ever mention she was talking with her twin sister?” Roman asked Blaire.

Blaire shook her head. “I was as shocked as everyone else when Kendra came to town.”

He could tell his question irritated Kendra. He’d had to ask to confirm what she’d told him.

Out on the street, Kendra headed for her car. “Don’t say it.”

Roman walked beside her. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

She eyed him as he walked next to her.

“I wasn’t,” he repeated. “In fact, I was going to suggest we call her coworkers.”

“What about her sleazy husband?”

“He’s in jail. Just found that out this morning. Arrested for embezzlement.”

“The streets are cleaner.” She reached her car. “Where’s your car?”

“I left the rental at the hotel. Took a cab here.”

“Get in.”

He did. “The husband has a tight alibi the day Kaelyn killed herself.”

“Stop saying that. Kaelyn was murdered.”

Roman sighed. This was going to be a long day.

“I didn’t tell you this yet, but Kaelyn slipped once when we were talking on the phone. She said she met someone in Chesterville and she called him Bear.”

“So you knew she was seeing someone.”

“No. She said she met someone and she called him Bear. She backpedaled when I questioned her and wouldn’t say more.”

* * *

Kendra contained her frustration after talking with a few of Kaelyn’s coworkers. All of them corroborated what the police had surmised. Kaelyn had been unhappy and depressed before her death. Having Roman with her to do the questioning hadn’t gotten her anywhere. She felt his doubt oozing through the air between them. The only reason he’d stayed was because of her secret relationship with Kaelyn, and maybe their night together. Would he ever be swayed?

Now they walked along Main Street not far from her shop and the pub. Ahead, a throng of people caught her eye. They’d have to cross the street to get around them. A camera crew lingered among them in front of the courthouse.

“What’s going on there?” Roman asked.

“I don’t know.” Kendra was active in her community but wouldn’t call herself up-to-date on everything going on in town.

People had gathered on the steps of the courthouse. What they hoped to see, Kendra couldn’t be sure. But then a couple stepped out of the building. The man, tall and muscular with slightly graying dark hair, wore slacks and a vest over a white dress shirt. Not much shorter, with blond hair and a black dress, the woman wore expensive jewels, like Christmas ornaments, and a fitted black business dress with black high heels. Her blond hair was shoulder-length and styled in a perfect, swooping bob.

She stopped with Roman at the crowd of onlookers.

“Who are they?” Kendra asked.

A woman next to her said, “That’s Hudson Franklin and his wife, Melody. Hudson is the county prosecutor. He’s prosecuting a new case.”

Melody waved to the crowd as though acting. Her husband kissed her cheek and she smiled at him, much more genuinely. The two seemed to have real feelings for each other.

Someone broke from the crowd, rushing for Melody and Hudson.

“You sent an innocent man to jail!” the man hollered, feverish to reach them. “All you care about is winning trials!”

Melody’s smile vanished and she shrieked, startled and frightened.

Two beefy security guards blocked the stranger just in time and Hudson swept Melody away, letting the guards flatten the man onto the concrete sidewalk.

From behind the couple, a big, dark blond–haired man rushed forward. “Mother! Are you all right?”

Shaken but safe now that the man had been subdued, the blonde faced the man. “Thank you, Bear. Yes, I’m all right.”

As she watched Melody lean away from the man’s embrace, Kendra felt a cold chill race through her, prickling her scalp and arms. When Kaelyn had slipped when talking about her second lover, she’d called him Bear.

Chapter 4

Raelyn Johnston checked out a customer in line at the gas station counter. This was the only job she could find after college. She didn’t want to leave Chesterville. Her grandparents lived here and that was really all she had left of family. Kendra came to mind then. She didn’t like thinking about her. Mom hadn’t told her a thing about her. Why not? The only explanation was that her mom hadn’t been close to her and maybe hadn’t wanted to bring her into their lives.

It didn’t matter anyway. Raelyn didn’t want her aunt in her life. She looked like her mom the way other sisters did but not in a twin way, and just reminded her of the hellhole her mother had left her in when she killed herself.

Raelyn slammed the cash register shut with a fresh wave of anger. She still got so mad over that. How could her mother have done that to her? Living with Dad had been horrible but at least they had had each other. How could her mom have left her in that situation?

The last year living with Dad had been a nightmare. She’d come home from school to cops swarming her house and her mother’s body being wheeled out in a black bag. Her dad hadn’t even called the school.

A cop had told her that her mother died and the coroner would be in touch to explain how.

After they’d all left, her dad had started drinking and only told her Kaelyn had killed herself by hanging. No hug. No talk over how she’d deal with such a huge loss. He seemed to not care at all. Looking back, she realized he’d drowned whatever sentiment he’d had for her mom in alcohol.

Another patron showed up at the counter. She looked up and saw a tall, beautiful blonde she recognized from the news. It was the prosecutor’s wife, Melody Franklin. She put a cold bottle of iced tea on the counter.

Raelyn began checking her out and Melody inserted her credit card into the machine, eyeing Raelyn.

“You’re Kaelyn Johnston’s daughter, aren’t you?” Melody asked.

She recognized her? “Yes.”

“I was real sorry when we heard about her death all those years ago.”

What was this, Hash Over Her Mom’s Suicide Day? She didn’t respond.

“She was so well liked in town. No one ever really got to know your dad. He never came with her when she visited.”

“My dad was and still is a first-class loser.”

“You seem to have turned out all right despite that fact. You’re quite lovely.”

Raelyn grew uncomfortable with the compliment. She thought she looked okay, but what did lovely mean?

“I heard your aunt hired an impressive private investigations firm to look into your mother’s death.”

What? Raelyn handed Melody her receipt. “What detective agency? Why is she looking into her death?”

Raelyn felt a surge of multiple feelings assail her. Rage. Pain. The sting of tears. She couldn’t take this.

“As a possible homicide. You didn’t know?”

“My aunt and I haven’t spoken much.”

“Doesn’t she keep in touch with you? I would think she’d want nothing more than to be in touch with her twin sister’s daughter.”

That was getting too personal. “She does, but I’ve been too busy.”

Melody glanced over the cash register and counter as though she found that difficult to believe. Raelyn only worked at a gas station. How could she possibly be too busy to be in touch with her aunt? Clearly she didn’t want to be in touch with her aunt.

“I’m sorry,” Melody said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“What agency?” Raelyn asked, borderline snapping.

“It’s fairly well-known. Dark Alley Investigations.”

“Why does Aunt Kendra think my mother may have been murdered?”

“Good question. That’s why I brought it up.”

Raelyn would not entertain any thoughts on the matter. She’d had it rough enough without her mother around. She didn’t need to start feeding the notion that her mother hadn’t abandoned her. Kendra was just reaching. Her mother wasn’t murdered. Period. End of story. Time to move on with her life.

Melody took her tea and started to turn. “Have a good day now.”

“You, too.”

Raelyn saw the next clerk who’d take over at the counter. Her shift was over.

Good. She needed to get out of here and get her mind off Mom. Adam texted her, saying he’d meet her at a local bar near where she worked.

Perfect.

She didn’t drink like her dad had, and never would. He’d set a fine example of what not to become. Try as she might not to think about that last year living with him, the memories filled her anyway. Whenever he got drunk, which was every night, he got angry. At first, she’d tolerated it. Without her mom, she’d been so lost and sad. The awfulness had consumed her. She’d come home from school and go to her room and cry every night. Her grades had slumped. Luckily, summer had arrived and she’d had a few months to get past the worst of it.

Dealing with her dad hadn’t helped. He yelled at her all the time and made her basically take care of him, cooking and cleaning. She’d hated him for that. She lost her friends because he demanded she be home. Then one night, he’d gotten so mad that she hadn’t made dinner yet, she’d lashed out at him and yelled back. He’d smacked her like he had her mom so many times.

She’d packed a bag and left. She went to one of her friends’ house. But she couldn’t live there for a year so she’d had to go back home.

Her dad had apologized but the violence had returned. She’d barely graduated from high school but made sure she had scholarships for college. Between that and two jobs, she’d paid her own way through school.

She hadn’t really had a chance to grieve the loss of her mother. In college she had. But the one thing she never lost was that deep, aching resentment over her mother taking the coward’s way and killing herself. Hadn’t she thought of her daughter? Why couldn’t she have just taken her and left her dad? That had gnawed at her ever since the day her dad emotionlessly told her of the suicide.

For the longest time, she couldn’t believe it. She refused. Her mother would never leave her that way. But she had. The coroner had sealed the truth of it when he’d stopped by to tell them. While Raelyn had broken down in tears, her dad had gone to a bottle of whiskey.

Leaving home for college had been one of the happiest days of her life. Now she never wanted to see him again.

Aunt Kendra? She didn’t know if she could see her, get to know her. It was just too painful. Now a woman she only knew through the news had told her Aunt Kendra had hired a detective to look into her mother’s death.

Raelyn did not welcome the ray of hope trying to butt its way past her control. If her mother had been murdered, that would mean she hadn’t intended to abandon her. But what did that really change? Nothing. She’d still lost her mom and that still made her really, really angry.

Chapter 5

“What, exactly, did Kaelyn say to you when she mentioned another lover?” Roman asked Kendra as they headed up to his room at Chesterville’s boutique hotel. She still couldn’t explain to herself why she’d agreed to come here. Maybe distraction over connecting the prosecutor’s son to her sister’s mysterious second lover. Yes, that’d do it. She didn’t want to be curious about what made Roman avoid his parents. He had such an idyllic childhood from all he’d told her. Was he aloof? Kendra had trouble with secretive people. If anyone had reason to keep secrets, that usually meant they were not very genuine.

The plush elevator stopped at the fourth floor and she walked down the hall with him. “She asked me to meet her here, in Chesterville, on one of her many trips to see her adoptive mother.” This town seemed more home to Kaelyn than with her husband, which was probably why Raelyn moved here after her death. Her sister had a much different experience with her family than Kendra had. “I thought it was odd she wanted to meet here. She explained she’d have more time to spend with me in Chesterville. We spent five days here. First we met for lunch, then went shopping, and then I met her mother and father. I stayed there the last three nights and it was like being kids again.” She smiled as she felt the same joy she had felt back then.

As Roman opened his hotel room, Kendra recalled playing dolls with her twin. Kaelyn had always been the doer, the one to start things going and to lead the way. Kendra had been more leisurely. She took more time before delving into projects. Not Kaelyn. She dived right in.

“You do have a strong connection to her,” Roman said as Kendra passed him on her way into his room. “Even separated all those years, you were still close.”

Kendra took in the gray-and-blue decorated living room and small kitchenette. “Yes.” She wouldn’t try to explain what it was like between her and Kaelyn. Being born at the same time as a sister, growing up with them—even if for a short time offered the ingredients for closeness, but there was more of a connection, an inexplicable one. Had she and Kaelyn bonded in the womb? Had they bonded as babies and toddlers? Who knew?

She put her purse on one of the two chairs in the kitchenette. Through a door she could see a king bed and a bathroom. She faced Roman, who’d gone into the kitchenette to find some glasses.

“When I first met her,” Kendra went on, “one of the things I noticed was her somberness. Kaelyn was not a quiet girl. Everyone grows up but it just seemed a light had been doused in her. She seemed...sad.” She hated that memory and threw it off her conscience, watching Roman pour two glasses of red wine. “The last couple of days, she started to perk up and I started to see the old Kaelyn. She laughed loud and talked excitedly about the two of us living in the same town, having families and always being together.”

He left the kitchenette and handed her a glass. “Did you ask her about her life in Toledo?”

She met his glowing wolf eyes, momentarily lulled by the ruggedness of his facial features. “Yes. I asked about her husband. What he did. How they met. She answered almost mechanically. She smiled but her eyes didn’t sparkle. Then she made a comment that he was a little insecure and he had to approve her friends at home. She said she came to Chesterville a lot because she could be herself here.”

“That must have raised some red flags for you.”

She nodded, not liking that memory, either. Turning, she walked to the window with a view of a strip mall. There was a nice restaurant there and people had gathered on a latticed patio full of trees and flowers. Early summer in West Virginia. The humidity was most bearable at night. She sipped some wine, hearing Roman sit on the gray sofa. She liked how he didn’t invade her space.

“I finally came right out and said to her, You aren’t happy with your husband, are you?” Kendra faced Roman, not feeling like sitting. “I watched her close her eyes, and then open them with such anguish and despair. She wasn’t happy. That’s when she told me about Jasper. The transformation in her was amazing. She said that even though she didn’t think he was the right man for her, he gave her an idea of the kind of man who was. She loved him for that, for giving her that insight. She told him she wanted to leave her husband. When I asked her why she hadn’t already, she wouldn’t answer. She kept changing the subject.”

“When did she tell you about Bear?” Roman asked, putting his glass of wine onto the coffee table.

Although all of the furniture in the hotel room were probably constructed of inexpensive materials, they made the room look expensive with artful, coordinated colors and textures. Kendra had always been the artsy one compared to Kaelyn.

“Shortly before she died, when I pressed her once more about her husband. I suspected he might be mistreating her. After telling me not to worry, that she planned to move back to Chesterville and I should plan to do the same, she said she thought she already met the man for her, one like Jasper. When I asked her who he was, she got this dreamy look and said, Bear. Then she seemed to realize what she’d said and wouldn’t tell me more.” Kendra had thought Bear a strange name and asked if that was a nickname. Kaelyn had only said yes. “All she said was that she had to be careful and he had to be kept a secret for now.”

She watched Roman absorb all she’d just said. He wasn’t a hurried man. Who would dare hurry a man who looked like him? His thick, dark wavy hair and stubbly face with angled bone structure gave him a dangerous look. Predatorily dangerous.

“Why didn’t you tell Jasper about Bear?” he finally asked.

“I assumed my sister meant she had to keep him a secret from her husband.” He thought that was significant? “Or maybe Bear was married. I hoped not, but the thought did cross my mind.”

“What if Bear threatened her in some way? If she was attracted to men like her husband, who’s to say this other man wasn’t just as abusive?”

“Do you think she feared Bear? She didn’t seem to fear him. She seemed madly in love with him. If she compared him to someone like Jasper, he must be someone special. Someone good, too.”

Again, Roman took his time. Then he lifted his eyes and met hers. “All the more reason to take a closer look at the man.”

Just to be sure? To be thorough? Did he think Kaelyn might have been so smitten that she’d missed some important signs?

So he really was going to take the case. He’d indicated as much, but she hadn’t been convinced. What had made him change his mind? Her as a woman at first, but now...?

“You never did tell me why you don’t want to see your parents.” Might as well test him.

He didn’t move from the couch, just sat back, legs parted, hands on his thighs. Relaxed. His wolf eyes never left hers.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go see them. I just don’t like facing how much more they’ve done with their lives than I have.”

Kendra moved to the side table, looking up at a cheap abstract in reds and grays. She found his answer peculiar.

“You don’t think becoming a successful detective at one of the world’s leading private investigations agencies measures up?”

“My name isn’t the one in the news.”

She turned to face him, holding her glass over her bent arm. “Unlike your father?”

“Something like that. Growing up with such perfect parents makes me not want to be perfect.”

Because he didn’t feel he equaled their perfection? He sure seemed to have some kind of identity issue going on. “Solving crimes defines you?”

“It’s real.”

“You don’t think your parents are real?”

“They live an idyllic life, untouched by reality.”

He sounded so pessimistic, which went against her way of thinking. Since escaping her adoptive parents, Kendra had made a promise to herself. She’d spend her life striving for happiness, making good choices that didn’t bring her the opposite. That meant not welcoming anyone who might threaten her inner peace.

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked. “We all have to die someday. What’s wrong with living a good, stress-free life?”

“Nothing. That’s not what I mean. My father sensationalizes death in his stories. I see the real thing.”

She went to the coffee table and sat beside his glass of wine, setting hers down next to it. “What you do is commendable. I don’t see why you feel the need to compare yourself to your dad.”

“I followed his lead. Not all of us get to pick the life of our dreams. My dad followed his.”

And he regretted following in the footsteps of a great man? He’d gone into crime solving to try and capture his father’s admiration?

“What would you have done if not for your dad?”

“That’s just it. I’m not one of those people who knows. I just do what the cards lay down in front of me. I’m not like you.”

“Me?” Where had he gotten the notion she was anything like his father? She’d followed her dreams? She had but not before going through hell to get there.

“You went to college and opened a Christmas shop. You aspired to do that and you did it. Now you live well. Hard times are far behind you.”

He had no idea what she’d gone through to get where she was now. And how could he forget she’d been separated from her sister, who died before she could truly reestablish ties? He thought reality didn’t touch her. She did her best to keep dark reality far from her door, but what did Roman think Kaelyn’s death was? A walk through a pleasant-smelling daisy field?

She’d leave him with something to consider. “The cards led me to my Christmas shop, Roman. I don’t know what I’d have done had my parents not been shot to death and my twin sister taken away. Let’s not forget the enchanted life I had growing up with addictive and abusive adoptive parents. Is that enough reality for you?” He didn’t even flinch, still thinking she lived an enchanted life. Her past didn’t matter. It’s what she lived now. “Why do I—why does anyone—have to dwell on reality and not seek an easier life?”

Roman moved forward, reaching one hand to her face as he sat on the edge of the couch. “I’m not saying anyone should dwell on reality. I’m saying that’s where I live every day, every time I start a new cold case. I don’t dwell on it. I live it. I don’t live like you...or my parents.”

And so he couldn’t relate? Is that what he meant? Or did he mean he needed to surround himself with others like him so he wouldn’t be reminded of what he’d never have—a life like his parents? Flourishing and enchanted. Full of light-stepping moments and sunny days.

While her beliefs opposed his, his light eyes and the intensity in them that had more to do with attraction than conviction kept her from backing away. She knew as well as he that the two of them did not see eye to eye on life in general, but that ceased to matter.

As though he chose not to think too long on it, he pulled her head closer and kissed her.

* * *

The next day, Roman walked with Kendra toward a country club where he’d learned Bear—aka Glenn Franklin—enjoyed a weekly brunch with his parents, Hudson and Melody. He hadn’t slept much after Kendra had left. The temptation to have a cigarette hadn’t helped. She’d left shortly after he ended the kiss. He’d been surprised he’d had to end it, first of all, and then not surprised when she’d stuttered an excuse and hurried out of the hotel room.

Heat and tension simmered, invisible and without sound. She wore a cheery sundress with a cardigan sweater to ward off the morning chill. The bright colors reminded him of what she needed to live—everything his life could never give her. He’d thought long about that last night. If the two of them ended up together, the grisly nature of his work would drag her down into a black cesspool. She’d have to escape as she did every day to her Christmas shop. She’d live her dream and deny the reality of his world. How many cop or detective shows had he watched where the hero could never stay married?

White blooming dogwoods lined the parking lot and thick, lush bluegrass trimmed along a curving sidewalk stretched to a fence enclosing a pool area. The sun shone in a deep blue sky, mocking Roman with its bright merriment.

“They aren’t going to let us in,” Kendra said.

Inside the clubhouse, Roman followed Kendra into a small lobby. A young woman stood at a podium, wearing a black skirt with matching suit jacket, with her dark, smooth and shining hair up in an unforgiving bun. She gave them a work-required smile and asked, “Two?”

“We’re here to talk to someone,” Roman said.

“You aren’t a member?”

“We won’t be long.” Putting his hand under Kendra’s elbow, he guided her into the restaurant area.

“Sir, you can’t go in there if you aren’t a member.” The woman followed.

Roman spotted Hudson and Melody Franklin. Melody was dressed as before, this time in a navy scoop neck, knee-length dress, with her stylish hair combed to a sharp-edge, the front tips brushing her collarbone. She tucked the left side behind her diamond-studded ears, her wedding ring big and gaudy. A woman of perhaps sixty, she kept herself in great shape, as did her husband. He wore a dark suit and tie, his salt-and-pepper hair cut short. He read from a menu with reading glasses.

“I don’t see Glenn,” Kendra said.

“We’ll talk to them first.” There were three settings on the table and all looked to have been touched. Before the empty chair, a crumpled cloth napkin sat beside a plate and crooked silverware, and the water glass was three-quarters full.

As Roman weaved between tables ahead of Kendra, he spotted Glenn returning from the men’s room, his big body taking long strides and the lapels of his silky jacket flapping.

“Mr. and Mrs. Franklin?” Roman queried.

Melody looked up, not appearing surprised someone would approach their table. They were a couple in the public eye. Hudson studied Roman and then Kendra as though trying to identify them. Glenn arrived at the table, briefly eyeing them with annoyed blue eyes before sitting.

“I’m sorry, sir.” The hostess stopped near Hudson, looking frightened. “They barged right in.”

Hudson held up one hand as though to soothe the girl. “It’s all right, Emily.” Then he looked up at Roman. “What brings you to our club so urgently?”

“I wouldn’t call it urgent so much as a good opportunity to catch you and your son.” As the hostess reluctantly turned and headed back toward the entrance, Roman introduced Kendra and identified himself as a private investigator.

“Private investigator?” Melody asked.

“Yes. I hired him to look into the death of my twin sister, Kaelyn Johnston.”

“Oh, yes, I remember that,” Melody said with eyes expressing sympathy. “That was so long ago.”

“I tried for years to get police to look into her death in more detail but no one ever did with any real effort, so I finally decided to get outside help.”

“You think she was murdered?”

“Yes. That’s why we came to see Glenn.”

Glenn looked up from the menu he had picked up, having dismissed them as soon as he sat down.

“I’m sorry...what?”

“Did you know Kaelyn Johnston?”

He glanced from Kendra to Roman. “Why are you asking me?”

“You did know her then?” Roman asked.

“No. I knew of her, though.”

“Kaelyn spoke of you, which is why we wanted to talk to you.” Roman turned to Kendra, cuing her to interject.

“She called you Bear.”

Glenn’s eyes shifted toward his parents and then back to Kendra. “She never mentioned a twin sister to me.”

“You did know her?” Melody asked, growing concerned, as though the thought of her son lying about knowing Kaelyn offended her.

Glenn ignored her and continued to stare at Kendra.

“She was planning to move back to Chesterville,” Kendra said, “to escape her husband. She must have failed in her attempt. Did you know she was coming back here?”

Glenn again said nothing, although he blinked in a telltale way.

“You did have an affair with her,” Roman said. “Didn’t you?”

Glenn had to see it would be pointless to deny the affair. His lack of response revealed as much.

“My Bear didn’t have an affair with anyone.” Melody turned to her son. “Did you, Glenn?”

Glenn glanced at his mother, and then lowered his eyes. Again, his lack of response answered for him.

“You didn’t.” Melody’s distress intensified. “What about your wife?”

“I had no intention of leaving her.” He looked at Kendra. “I’m sorry. I was going to break things off with your sister, but I didn’t get the chance before she...”

“Thank you for not saying ‘committed suicide,’” Kendra said.

Melody’s mouth still hung open in shock. “Do you have any idea what this could do to our family? Any chance you have of following a successful political career would be ruined if news of this spread.” She took a few deep breaths.

Glenn looked solemn. “What happened between me and Kaelyn was unexpected.”

“It usually is,” Hudson said. “A man doesn’t wake up one morning and decide he’s going to seek out an affair.” With Melody’s gasp, he added, “Not that I speak from experience.”

“It was a onetime thing, Mother. It won’t ever happen again. I promise.”

“I remember when she committed suicide.” Hudson didn’t seem to care what Kendra thought of his choice of words. “I ran into her mother a few weeks after.”

“Did you attend her funeral?” Kendra asked. “Her body was transported back here for burial.”

“No. I didn’t know the family very well.”

Melody had slowly begun to emerge from her shock and listened now.

“Did you attend her funeral?” Roman asked Glenn.

Glenn shook his head. “I visited her grave afterward. I had my own private goodbye with her.”

He hadn’t wanted to risk his wife asking too many questions, apparently.

“Were you here in town when she died?” Roman asked.

Glenn had to think a moment. “I didn’t leave town, I know that much. I can’t remember what I was doing when she died.”

“I do,” Melody said. “Hudson and I flew to New York that day to catch a Broadway show. I remember because Hudson told me about running into Kaelyn’s mother when we arrived back home. It struck me because I had never heard of anyone killing themselves before.”

Glenn nodded with recollection. “I do remember that. The day you flew to New York, I had a cold.”

“You were home all day?” Roman asked.

“Yes.”

“Can anyone verify that?”

Glenn frowned. “I can’t remember if I talked with anyone on the phone. Why?”

“Your wife was home all day?” Roman asked.

“I can’t remember.”

Roman abandoned that line of questioning for now. “When is the last time you saw her?”

“When she came to town. Maybe a week before that.”

“What did you talk about?”

“I can’t recall exactly. Nothing unusual. Nothing that would have indicated she intended to kill herself, or that she was in some kind of trouble. I almost told her I wanted to break things off then, but I didn’t.”

So, he had had a regular secret encounter with Kaelyn a week before she died. He claimed not to remember much, but did he?

“I think that’s all we need for now.” Roman prepared to leave when Glenn stopped him.

“Why do you doubt it was suicide?” he asked.

“Kaelyn and I were in contact for months before she died,” Kendra said. “I think she was going to try to talk me into moving here, maybe come to Chicago first and then the both of us could move together. Every time she spoke of Chesterville, of moving back here, she lit up. And she lit up even more when she talked about the two of us living close and seeing each other often. She was excited, not the sad woman everyone described to me after her death. If she was sad, her husband is the only one who made her that way.”

“So you think her husband may have killed her?”

“Perhaps. If not him, then someone else,” Kendra said.

“You know for certain she planned to move here?” Glenn asked.

“We discussed it.”

“So she may not have planned to move back here.”

“It was implied. She seemed to be priming me for the suggestion. When she talked about wanting to live in Chesterville again, she did so as though it was a dream to her, as if she was afraid it would never be.”

Glenn fell into thoughtful silence, the menu forgotten.

He seemed genuinely surprised that Kaelyn might have been murdered. Had he tried to hide his affair with her to protect his marriage or did he have other reasons to keep such a secret? He had a weak alibi but appeared to lack motive to murder Kaelyn. Roman wouldn’t tell Kendra any of his yet, though. He’d wait until he ruled out foul play. Or confirmed it.

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