Bestselling author Carla Cassidy dazzles us with her Men of Wolf Creek—heroes who live and love fiercely

Marlene Marcoli made the mistake of falling in love and almost lost her life. Hoping to put her abusive marriage behind her, Marlene moves to Wolf Creek, Pennsylvania. But danger follows her once again when her apartment is vandalized. To make matters worse, the sexy detective working the case is distracting her beyond reason.

Detective Frank Delaney hasn’t been interested in dating since his wife died—until Marlene comes to town. Irresistibly drawn to the blonde, he’s got to find a way to make her trust him. And when Marlene’s life is threatened, Frank must race to protect her—if they both hope to have a second chance at love.

“I’m coming out of hiding.”

Frank took Marlene by the arm. “You can’t do that. We still don’t know who wants to hurt you.”

“So I just put my life on hold indefinitely? I don’t think so. I’ll endure this hiding out for another week but then I’m going back to my apartment, and if the bad guy comes after me I’ll just hope we’re prepared for him.”

“Is there anything I can say that will change it?”

“Just find the person who wants me dead.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, eyeing her with a hint of regret. “Then I guess the best thing for me to do is get out of here and hunt down the bad guys. I’ll check in with you later in the week.”

She watched as he left the room and fought the impulse to stop him, to fall into his arms once again and make love with him until she was breathless.

Dear Reader,

Once again we are back in Wolf Creek, Pennsylvania, where the men are hot and the women are strong and an unknown killer walks the streets.

For Detective Frank Delaney, the kidnapping of Liz Marcoli is not the only thing on his mind; he’s having trouble keeping his thoughts off Liz’s beautiful niece, Marlene. But Marlene is a woman with secrets, and the last thing she wants is any man anywhere in her life…until danger strikes.

I hope you enjoy this return to Wolf Creek.

Happy reading!

Carla Cassidy

Lethal Lawman

Carla Cassidy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CARLA CASSIDY

is an award-winning author who has written more than one hundred books for Harlequin. In 1995 she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998 she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews.

Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

MILLS & BOON

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To Frank and Marlene

For your wonderful hospitality and love

Thanks for everything!

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter 1

She clung to the banister near the bottom of the staircase.

Blood. There was so much blood. Pain stole her ability to think as it racked her body. No, her brain screamed. This couldn’t be happening. Her grasp grew slippery on the rail of wood that kept her from falling completely to the floor.

Blood. There was too much blood. She tried desperately to hold back her scream of pain but it escaped from her, first a low moan and then a scream loud enough to wake the dead.

* * *

Marlene Marcoli shot up, her heart thundering frantically as she came out of the dream...the all-too-familiar nightmare. Sunshine streamed through the window in her small bedroom and a glance at the clock let her know it was just after eight.

After eight! She was halfway out of bed before she remembered it was no longer her job to get up in the early-morning hours, drive to her aunt Liz’s empty house, and use her kitchen to bake cakes and pies, cinnamon rolls and whatever else her sister Roxy might need for the day in her popular restaurant.

She fell back against her pillow and stared up at the ceiling, hoping for another couple of hours of sleep before she had to work the late afternoon and evening hours at the Roadside Stop, a business that she owned and managed with her younger sister, Sheri.

While she liked owning a business, her true love was baking. Realizing that any more sleep would probably not be forthcoming, she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower to slough off any lingering sleepiness.

As she stood beneath the hot spray, she decided to use the extra hours this morning to make a couple of batches of brownies. She could take some into the Roadside Stop later and take a platter to Minnie Anderson, her landlord, who owned the Treasure Trove, an antiques store below Marlene’s small walk-up apartment.

With her morning planned, she dressed in a pair of worn jeans, pulled on an old, faded red T-shirt and pulled her long, blond hair into a messy ponytail.

A few minutes later with coffee brewing and filling the tiny kitchen with its fragrance, she gathered the ingredients she’d need to make her own special double-chocolate brownies.

One of her very first memories was of standing on a step stool next to her aunt Liz and watching while the older woman baked a pie. Aunt Liz loved to bake, and that love had been passed on to Marlene.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and moved to the window where the bright May sun shimmered over Main Street in Wolf Creek, Pennsylvania.

A chill danced up her spine despite the view of the sun as she thought of her aunt Liz, who had been missing for the past five weeks. She’d simply disappeared from her kitchen on a Friday morning with her car in the driveway and her purse on the counter. Nobody had seen or heard from her since.

It was an open investigation that the three detectives who worked for the Wolf Creek Police Department were actively pursuing. A small smile curved her lips. Apparently Detective Steve Kincaid had not only been pursuing information in Aunt Liz’s case but had also been pursuing Marlene’s older sister, Roxy.

He’d chased until he’d finally caught her, and the two of them, along with Steve’s seven-year-old son, Tommy, were slowly beginning to build a life together.

Marlene shoved away all thoughts of her sisters, her missing aunt and the lingering jitters from the recurrent nightmare as she got busy doing what she loved best—baking.

By noon she had finished the brownies and changed from her jeans and T-shirt into a pair of black slacks and a short-sleeved blue-and-black-patterned blouse. Her makeup was perfect and her blond hair fell just below her shoulders in soft waves. She eyed her reflection in the mirror and mentally pronounced herself ready to leave her little sanctuary and go out in public.

Although there was a door to a staircase that would lead directly into the shop downstairs, that door was kept locked and never used. Instead Marlene always used the outside wooden stairs to come and go from her second-floor apartment.

As she left for the day, she carried with her a large plastic container of brownies to take into the store and a smaller platter to give to her landlord.

She stored the large container in her car and then walked around to the front of Minnie’s shop with the plate of brownies in hand.

A bell tinkled melodically as she opened the door to a mishmash of merchandise and the happy greeting of the stoop-shouldered white-haired woman who owned the store. She stood behind a counter that sported an old-fashioned cash register and an array of costume jewelry that often caught Marlene’s attention.

As Marlene placed the platter of chocolate goodies next to the register, Minnie clapped her wrinkled hands over her chest and smiled. “I smelled these this morning when you were baking them and I was hoping you wouldn’t forget a little nibble for me,” Minnie said.

“How could I ever forget one of my favorite people?” Marlene replied.

Minnie laughed. “You just say that so I won’t raise your rent.” She reached beneath the plastic wrap and grabbed one of the brownies. She took a bite and rolled her eyes with pleasure. “Of course I can’t raise your rent as long as you’re bringing magic to my mouth.”

Marlene smiled. “Don’t you know this is my idea of rent control?”

Minnie laughed again, this time her false teeth displaying a thin layer of chocolate. “Go on, get out with you. I know you’re on your way to work.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Minnie,” Marlene replied and then headed back out the door.

Marlene got into her car and drove down the three blocks of Main Street. The business she and her sister owned was about ten miles out of the small town of Wolf Creek, Pennsylvania, along a stretch of highway near a relatively small Amish settlement.

Most of what Marlene and Sheri sold in their store came from the Amish. Beautiful handcrafted furniture, apple and peach butter, corn relish and pickles, along with the cheeses and breads, were only a sampling of what the Roadside Stop sold.

The shop had always been her sister Sheri’s dream, while Marlene had wanted to eventually open her own bakery. But a bad marriage and divorce and two years away from home had limited Marlene’s options when she’d returned a year ago. She’d been grateful when Sheri had offered her a piece of the shop so she could at least make a living.

The dream of owning and operating a bakery on Main Street had died along with her marriage and any thoughts of happily ever after. She unclenched her hands from the steering wheel, trying to fight against the anxiety, the sense of panic that always stirred at thoughts of her marriage.

“It’s all in the past,” she said aloud as she pulled into one of the parking spaces behind the Roadside Stop building. The lot in front was filled with cars, a positive sign for business.

Marlene wasn’t particularly good with people, not like Sheri, who despite her youth had a maternal aura about her. Marlene much preferred to work in the back storage room than deal with the customers, but today it didn’t look as though she’d have a choice. The shop was surprisingly busy.

Sheri cast her a grateful smile as she walked in. “I am so glad to see you,” she said as Marlene set the container of brownies on the counter and opened the lid so that customers could help themselves. “We’ve been swamped all day and Abe called in sick, so it’s just been me and Jennifer holding down the fort.”

The shop was large with a special area on the end specifically for the furniture they sold. Besides the Amish goods, there was also a section devoted to Wolf Creek souvenirs and another for travelers’ needs.

“Want me to work the register?” Marlene asked hopefully, knowing that Jennifer and Sheri were far better working with the customers on the floor.

“That will be perfect,” Sheri agreed easily. She stepped out from behind the counter and Marlene took her place. She was most comfortable here, with the wide counter between her and anyone else.

As she watched Sheri flit from customer to customer, drawing warm smiles as she interacted with everyone, Marlene marveled at how different she and her sisters were from one another. While they all had the same mother, who had dumped them at their aunt Liz’s for her to raise them, none of them knew their fathers.

Marlene’s older sister, Roxy, was a dark-haired firecracker who ran a successful restaurant and took no guff from anyone. Sheri was like a petite, brown-haired, amber-eyed earth mother, stirred to rage only if anyone threatened the herd of animals that populated the woods around her cottage.

And Marlene knew that most people whispered behind her own back that she was the ice princess...perceived as cool, not particularly friendly and slightly arrogant.

Nothing could be further from the truth, but people’s perceptions worked to her advantage, especially since she’d come back here after her broken marriage. She didn’t want to get close to anyone. She had her sisters and she hoped Aunt Liz would eventually be found, and they were more than enough for Marlene at this particular time in her life.

The afternoon flew by as business stayed brisk. It was just after four when the store had a lull with no customers in the place.

“Have you heard from Michael today?” Marlene asked as Sheri leaned a slender hip against the counter and grabbed one of Marlene’s brownies.

“I wouldn’t expect to see him today since you fired him last night,” Sheri replied. She shook her head ruefully. “I was a fool to give him a second chance.”

Marlene shook her head as she thought of the twenty-two-year-old who’d only been hired three days before. Michael Arello had worked a couple of days in Roxy’s restaurant, the Dollhouse, and had been fired for stealing food.

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw him sneaking out the back door with a box full of goodies.” Marlene grabbed one of the last of her brownies and frowned thoughtfully. “I wonder if his family is having money problems or something? He got fired for stealing food from Roxy’s place and the box he was trying to get out to his car last night was filled with bread and cheese and a couple of jars of apple butter and pickles.”

“As far as I know, the Arello family is doing just fine,” Sheri replied. “Mr. Arello still works at the bank and Mrs. Arello works at the grocery store.”

“Maybe Michael is just a kleptomaniac,” Marlene said as she popped the last of the brownie in her mouth. “Maybe if he was working at Vick’s garage he’d be putting hubcaps in his pockets.”

Sheri laughed and glanced at her watch. “I think I’m going to head on home. Will you be okay here until close? Jennifer is supposed to get off at seven. If you want to shut the place down then, that’s fine with me. Business is usually fairly nonexistent between seven and nine on a Tuesday night anyway.”

Normally the store was open six days a week until nine, but it was still a bit too early in the year for the heavy summer traffic and tourist season. “Maybe I’ll do that. Without Abe here I really don’t like closing up all alone, especially once it gets dark.”

Sheri nodded. “That’s why I suggested it. I don’t like to be open at night with just myself here, either.” Sheri grabbed her oversize brown purse from beneath the counter. “I’m off to my enchanted cottage and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

Marlene smiled as Sheri left. Her sister’s house in the woods did look like an enchanted cottage, but that was where the fairy tale ended.

Marlene didn’t believe in fairy tales anymore. She knew firsthand that handsome princes weren’t always what they advertised.

At seven, as Jennifer grabbed her purse, Marlene decided to go ahead and close up shop. She really wasn’t comfortable working alone. They’d been lucky in that they’d never been robbed since opening, but Marlene had only worked the store alone once one evening and had been uncomfortable the whole time.

Minutes later she was in her car and headed back to the tiny apartment she called home. When she’d returned from Pittsburgh broke and broken, she’d jumped at the chance to rent the small furnished apartment above the Treasure Trove.

Although the furnishings were Minnie style: a used sofa in a puke-green color and a matching chair, all of them sporting crocheted lacy doilies on the armrests. The kitchen area was along one wall―a stove-top oven, a sink and a fridge that was also green.

The only thing Marlene had brought brand-new into the place was a bed and her bedding. There was no way she wanted to sleep on somebody else’s discarded mattress.

And her bed with its bright pink bedspread was where she spent most of her time. Her television was in the bedroom, and she often ate in there on a bed tray, worked on her computer and thought about the days when she’d felt so safe, so secure as a young girl growing up in her aunt Liz’s house.

She and Sheri had shared a room with twin beds covered in bright pink bedspreads, and it didn’t take a brain scientist to understand why Marlene had chosen a pink spread after her traumatic marriage.

She was thinking about snuggling into that pink material as she walked up the wooden staircase to the second-floor apartment. When she reached the landing, she knew something was wrong.

Her heart crashed against her ribs as she saw the damage to her door and that it hung slightly open on its hinges. Afraid to go inside, unsure who might still be there, she turned and hurried back down the staircase to the street where her car was parked.

She got inside, locked the doors and then called the police. As she waited for help to arrive, she tried to halt the shivers that trembled through her.

Who had been inside her apartment? Why would anyone break in? She had nothing of any real value to steal. Surely he hadn’t come here for her. Or had he?

* * *

“Got a call of a potential break-in at the apartment over Minnie’s store,” Erin Taylor, the dispatcher, called out.

“I’ll take it,” Detective Frank Delaney said, his car keys in hand. He’d just been about to head to his car and call it a night, but he knew who lived above Minnie’s place.

Of the three Marcoli sisters, Frank had found Marlene the most distant, the most standoffish, while working the investigation into her aunt’s disappearance. He had no doubt that she had fully cooperated with the investigation so far, but she’d appeared far more tightly controlled than her two sisters.

As he headed down the street toward Minnie’s Treasure Trove shop he wondered who in the hell would want to break into the tiny apartment above the junk store?

It was less than a three-block drive from the Wolf Creek Police Station to Minnie’s shop, and he saw Marlene’s old Chevy parked at the curb with her inside behind the steering wheel.

Frank pulled in just behind her, and as he got out of his car, she got out of hers. He couldn’t help the slight edge of pleasurable tension that roiled through his gut at the sight of her.

The evening light was more than kind to her, shining a luster into her pale blond hair and making the blue of her eyes more intense. He was accustomed to them radiating coolness, but tonight they shimmered with unabashed fear.

“The door is broken and was hanging open when I arrived home a few minutes ago,” she said before he could ask anything. “I didn’t go inside, so I don’t know if there is somebody still in there or not.”

Although she said the words calmly, matter-of-factly, Frank couldn’t help but notice that as she reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, her hand trembled.

“I’ll go check it out. Why don’t you return to your car and lock the doors until I come back for you?”

She nodded and quickly did as he asked.

Frank headed toward the stairs and pulled his gun from his shoulder holster. As always when faced with an unknown situation, his heart started a rapid thump and all of his senses came alive with a new level of awareness.

He stealthily crept up the stairs, catching the stench of garbage in the alley behind the store. In the distance, he heard a dog bark. What he didn’t hear was any movement from the apartment just ahead of him.

When he hit the landing it was easy to see what had concerned Marlene. The door had apparently been hit with enough force to spring the flimsy lock. It stood open about an inch and Frank tightened his grip on his gun as he used his foot to lever the door open all the way.

It was still light enough outside that as he entered the main room the damage was obvious. Broken dishes crunched beneath his shoes as he focused his attention on the other doors in the room...specifically, the door that led to the bedroom.

The door was open, and although Frank sensed nobody in the room, he entered in a crouched position with his gun leading the way. Just as he’d sensed, nobody was there. Nor was there anyone hiding out in the bathroom. But whoever had been here had left one heck of a mess behind.

He holstered his gun, checked the door that he knew led to inner stairs that went down to the store and found it locked, and then headed to the wooden steps that carried him back down to the street.

Marlene once again got out of her car to meet him. “There’s nobody up there now, but somebody definitely got inside and did damage.”

Some of the fear left her eyes and instead that cool detachment that was her trademark shone through. “Then I guess I’d better go see what’s been destroyed.”

She headed up the stairs and Frank followed, trying to keep his gaze off the shapely sway of her behind. There was no question that from the beginning of the investigation into Marlene’s aunt Liz’s disappearance a little over a month ago, Frank had found himself physically drawn to the beautiful blonde.

But he recognized it for what it was...a healthy dose of lust that would lead to nothing, a physical desire that he’d probably never follow through on.

Since his wife’s death three years ago, Frank had learned the fine art of not accessing his emotions too deeply. He didn’t date. He worked hard and suffered from occasional nightmares and never allowed himself to fantasize about any real happiness entering his life ever again.

He heard Marlene’s soft gasp as she stepped into the apartment. Before, he’d been looking for a perp inside, but now as he stepped in just behind her he took in the full scene before him.

Colorful crockery had been shattered on the floor; a plant had been overturned, the dirt from the large black planter scattered across the linoleum. In the bedroom, clothes had been pulled out of drawers and ripped from hangers in the closet.

“It looks like a three-year-old had a temper tantrum in here,” Frank observed as they returned to the main room. “Made any three-year-olds angry lately?”

Marlene looked around the room. “Nothing major was done. It doesn’t look like anything has been stolen. It does look like a temper tantrum.” She finally turned her focus on him. Her ice-blue eyes displayed a faint hint of relief. “Not a three-year-old, but maybe a twenty-two-year-old,” she replied.

“Before we talk any more, let me give my partner Jimmy a call and get him over here. He can pull a fingerprint off a butterfly’s wings and he might be able to get something off the door or some of the broken pieces of the dishes.”

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and quickly made the call. “Why don’t we wait downstairs for Jimmy to get here? I don’t want us to contaminate the scene any more than we already have.”

She gave a curt nod and this time she followed him down the stairs. When they reached the sidewalk the shades of evening were beginning to grow deeper. She stood against her car and an awkward silence prevailed between them.

Frank tried to think of small talk, but he was definitely rusty. It had been a long time since he’d tried to make small talk with anyone other than his partners and the other cops at the station.

He finally fell back on what he did best—work. “So, who is the twenty-two-year-old who might have had a temper tantrum in your apartment?”

“Michael Arello.”

Frank frowned. “Didn’t we check him out when Roxy was being threatened?”

“He worked for Roxy at the restaurant for a couple of days and got fired for stealing a ham. Then a couple of days ago Sheri hired him to work for us at the Roadside Stop. She felt sorry for him and he promised her he’d be a good worker for us.” Marlene’s lush lips thinned a bit. “Sheri is a soft touch and wanted to believe him, and then last night I fired him for stealing.”

“Case solved,” Frank said.

“I hope it’s that easy,” she replied.

At that moment Jimmy Carmani pulled up in his little sports car and braked to a halt just behind Frank’s car. He got out of the car and with a jaunty walk approached them. He carried a black crime kit and wore his usual pleasant smile, which always put people at ease.

He was an Italian, young at twenty-eight to have earned his detective status, but Frank admired his tenacity and his intelligence, and trusted him completely to always have his back.

Although Wolf Creek was a small town and it was unusual for the size of the town to have three detectives, the three men often worked in concert with the police department in the nearby bigger town of Hershey.

“Hey, Frank, Marlene, I hear we have a bit of a problem here.”

“Looks like a bit of destructive mischief,” Frank explained. “Marlene doesn’t think anything was stolen. There’s a broken door and a mess up there and I just hope you might be able to pull a couple of prints off something for us.”

“I’ll do my best. Should I head on up?”

“Yeah, and we’ll stay down here out of your way.” Frank glanced across the street where the Wolf Creek Diner was open. “Maybe I can talk Marlene into having a cup of coffee with me across the street and we can chat a little more while you do your thing.”

Jimmy nodded. “If you aren’t back here when I’m done, I’ll head across the street and find you.” As he headed up the stairway, Frank turned to look at Marlene.

“What about a cup of coffee instead of standing around out here on the street?”

“Okay,” she said, although he thought he heard a bit of reluctance in her voice.

Together in silence they walked across Main Street to the café, which appeared deserted. Although the place was popular in the early evenings, after seven-thirty or so most people had already eaten and left.

Frank gestured her toward a nearby booth and he slid into one side while she took the seat across from him. It took only a second for one of the two waitresses to appear at the booth.

“Two coffees,” Frank said with a questioning look at Marlene.

She nodded and folded her arms as if creating an unconscious barrier between them. Frank leaned back against the booth, hoping that he didn’t appear intimidating. He’d been told many times that he came off a bit stern when interrogating people.

He forced a smile. She didn’t return it. He cleared his throat with a touch of discomfort and pulled a small pad and pen from his jacket pocket. “Why didn’t you call us last night when you caught Michael stealing?”

She released a faint sigh and unfolded her arms. “He’s just a kid. I didn’t want to cause him any real legal issues. I told him to put down the box he was trying to sneak out to his car and to leave and not come back.”

“What was in the box?”

Her slender shoulders lifted and then fell. “A couple loaves of bread, a couple jars of apple butter, some cheese and a jar of pickles. I can’t imagine why he’d risk a job for what would have cost him so little, and if he had told us he was hungry, Sheri would have given him whatever he wanted to eat.”

The conversation halted for a moment as the waitress appeared with their coffee. Frank frowned thoughtfully as she left them once again. “And what was it that he stole from Roxy’s restaurant?”

“About half a ham. Both times he stole far more food than he could eat by himself. Sheri and I were speculating this afternoon if maybe his parents are having some sort of financial troubles.”

“I know Sean and Kim Arello and they’re doing just fine. They definitely don’t need Michael to steal food for their dinner table.”

The conversation halted again as the waitress reappeared at the table to offer warm-ups for the coffee they’d barely touched. Marlene instantly curled her long, manicured fingers around the cup and looked as though she’d rather be on another planet than seated at the booth across from him.

“Anyone else been giving you problems? Either at the store or in your personal life?” he asked when the waitress had departed.

“The store is my personal life,” she replied. “I’ve only been back in town about a year, and no, nobody has been giving me any problems.” She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip of the coffee, then carefully placed the cup back where it had been. “I haven’t had any issues with anyone that I’m aware of.”

“I’m sure it was probably Michael or one of his friends,” he said. She finally met his gaze, and beneath the cool blue of her eyes, he thought he saw more than uncertainty. He thought he saw a whisper of sheer terror.

It was a response that appeared to be a bit over the top for the situation, and in all his dealings with Marlene throughout the investigation of her missing aunt Liz, she hadn’t struck him as the over-the-top type.

Maybe he was mistaking the terror for secrets―and there was nothing that intrigued Frank more than a beautiful blonde with secrets.

Chapter 2

They hadn’t been sitting very long before Jimmy found them, breaking the awkward silence that had again descended between them. Marlene had always found Frank incredibly handsome and equally intimidating.

With a touch of premature silver at the temples in his dark hair, and a face that featured sharp angles and keen blue eyes, he emanated steely hardness with a touch of male elegance.

“Nothing on the door,” Jimmy said as he slid into the booth next to Frank. “It looks to me like whoever got in used his shoulder and just broke through the flimsy lock.” He smiled apologetically at Marlene. “It was a crappy lock. I noticed you have a dead bolt. Was it locked when you left the apartment earlier?”

“Not the dead bolt, just the other one. I normally don’t use the dead bolt unless I’m at home,” she explained.

“I tried to pull some prints from some of the bigger pieces of the broken dishes, but I got nada. Most of the pieces were too small to even try to pull up any prints. Sorry I couldn’t be any more help.”

“I appreciate you trying,” she replied.

“I did manage to get the door back on the frame so that the dead bolt still works okay, but if I were you I’d have Larry Samson come over and just put in a new door and locking system,” Jimmy said. “Anything else you need, partner?”

“No thanks, Jimmy. I’ll take it from here.”

Jimmy stood and grabbed his bag from the floor. “Good luck, Marlene. I’m sure we’ll be talking soon again, in any case.”

“Thank you, Jimmy.” She also stood, more than ready to get back to her place and start the cleanup. If she thought she was going to get rid of Frank that easily she was sadly mistaken.

He was instantly at her heels and fell into step with her as they crossed the street once again. “I’ll check out Michael Arello, but first I’ll help you with the cleanup.”

“That’s not necessary,” she protested.

“I insist,” he replied with a hint of toughness in his tone that instantly stiffened her back. “I still want to do a thorough sweep to make sure Jimmy didn’t overlook anything.”

She hated the invasion into her personal space. She hated that this had happened at all. The unexplained disappearance of her aunt Liz had already shaken her badly. This assault to her things, to her very sense of safety, was the last thing she needed. All she wanted to do for the remainder of the night was to dead-bolt her door and curl up into a ball in the middle of her pink bedspread and pretend that everything was all right.

But it was impossible to pretend that everything was all right with Detective Frank Delaney climbing the stairs just behind her.

Stepping into the apartment, she was again struck by how senseless the crime had been. “Do you have a broom?” Frank asked.

She looked at him in surprise.

He offered her a small smile that lit his eyes with unexpected warmth. “I figured I could sweep up in here and you could go into the bedroom and check out your clothing situation...see if anything has been damaged.”

“Okay, if that’s the way you want to do it.” She pulled a broom and dustpan from the small pantry closet. She handed him both. “Knock yourself out.”

She turned and went into her bedroom, where an array of clothing was cast about the top of the bed and the floor like a designer gone mad. She began checking each item as she placed it back in the drawers and hung things back in the closet. No damage, but an outrage built inside her at the fact that somebody had come into her home and touched her things.

She tamped down the outrage, instead reaching for the numbness of emotions that had held her in good stead for the past year of her life.

As she worked in the bedroom, she heard the sound of Frank sweeping up the shattered dishes and then dumping them into the trash bag.

She was grateful to discover that nothing had been cut or slit or otherwise destroyed. It did, indeed, appear to be a crime of mischief rather than the vicious attack of a brutal man.

For an entire year she’d been afraid...so afraid that he would decide they weren’t finished, that somehow she still belonged to him.

But there was no way she believed this damage was done by Matt McGraw. If it had been Matt, the damage would have been devastating.

Nobody knew the details of her two-year marriage and subsequent divorce from Matt, and that was how she intended to keep it. Not even her sisters or her aunt had any real details about her marriage or why she had left to return home as a single woman.

Matt was a monster from a bad dream, and she was only grateful that she didn’t believe that a monster had been in her home at some point while she’d been gone today.

By the time she had her bedroom back in order, she returned to the kitchen to find the place clean and Frank seated at her small table.

“Thank you,” she said as she looked around the room and then sat at the chair across from him, her internal defenses automatically kicking in.

“Are you sure there’s nobody else I need to look at for this?” Frank asked.

“Not that I can think of off the top of my head,” she replied. There was no point in bringing Matt into this, especially when they already had a viable suspect to investigate.

“Then I’ll check out Michael Arello and get back to you. If we find out he’s responsible for this, I’m assuming you want to press charges.”

Marlene frowned. Did she really want to go there? “Can’t you just give him a stern talking-to?”

Frank raised a dark eyebrow. “Really? Is that the way you want to handle this? He’s stolen twice that we know of and now this. Maybe it’s time for more than a stern talking-to.”

Marlene shook her head. “Maybe so, but it isn’t coming from me. If Michael is the one who broke in here, then he’ll figure we’re even. I fired him and he messed up my house. I don’t want to press charges. I just want to forget the whole thing.”

Since he was a man of the law, she knew it was difficult for him to understand why she wouldn’t want to press charges, but she just wanted it all to go away as simply and quickly as possible.

“Marlene Marie!” The familiar voice came from outside and was followed by the stomping of feet that belonged to Marlene’s older sister, Roxy.

There was no knock on the door, but it flew open, and Roxy stood there, her dark eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay?” she asked Marlene.

“I’m fine. Everything is fine, so you can get that fire out of your eyes,” Marlene exclaimed.

Roxy released a sigh of relief, raked a hand through her riotous curls and then smiled at Frank. “Jimmy told Steve and Steve told me that there had been a break-in here and I freaked out.”

“Does Steve know you’re out running the streets alone?” Marlene asked. As much as she adored her older sister, there were times when Roxy drove her crazy with her need to mother both Marlene and Sheri.

Roxy didn’t answer and instead focused her attention on Frank. “So, what have we got here?”

“We have nothing. It’s all taken care of,” Marlene said firmly.

“We think maybe Michael Arello did a little payback today,” Frank said.

“Payback for what?” Roxy asked.

“I fired him from the store last night for stealing,” Marlene explained.

“That little creep. He needs a good butt-kicking and I know just the man to do it,” Roxy said. “I’ll make sure Steve tells Michael what for.”

“Roxy, boundaries,” Marlene replied. “Frank has this. It will all be taken care of.” She just wanted both of them gone now. It was getting late, she was exhausted and she wanted to make arrangements for Larry Samson to come first thing in the morning and replace the door with solid locks.

She’d be fine for the night with the dead bolt locked. This entire evening just felt ugly, and she’d had enough ugliness in her life to last throughout eternity.

She stood in hopes that it would be an indication that she was done for the night. She pulled her much-shorter dark-haired sister into a quick embrace. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. It’s all under control.”

Roxy gave her a tight hug in response and then stepped back. “Okay, I know Frank will take good care of you. Call me if you need anything.”

“You know I will,” Marlene assured her, although they both knew Marlene probably wouldn’t.

As Roxy said goodbye and clomped back down the stairs, Marlene turned and looked at Frank pointedly. “I guess that’s my cue.” He got up from the table and walked toward the door. Marlene remained in place, not wanting to get close enough to smell the pleasant spicy-scented cologne she’d noticed emanating from him earlier.

“I’ll probably check in with you sometime tomorrow,” he said.

“I’ll be here until about noon or so, and then after that I’ll be at the shop.”

“Then I’ll talk to you at one place or the other,” Frank said, and with another surprising smile that shot an unexpected burst of warmth through her, he left.

She locked the door behind him and leaned against it. She closed her eyes and tried to will away thoughts of Detective Frank Delaney.

From the moment her aunt Liz had gone missing and the case had been assigned to Detectives Steven Kincaid, Frank Delaney and Jimmy Carmani, Frank had been under her skin.

His low, deep voice shot a secret thrill through her, a gaze of his eyes made her feel as if he were attempting to breach the defenses she’d erected so high.

There was no way she intended to let him in. There was no way she intended to even let her sisters in completely. She’d come back to Wolf Creek as damaged goods and nobody would ever get close to her again.

* * *

It took Frank exactly ten minutes to find Michael Arello after leaving Marlene’s apartment. The kid was an easy find. He was with a bunch of his buddies playing pool in the back area of the Wolf’s Head Tavern.

Frank didn’t miss that twice Michael had targeted the Marcoli family. The fact that both times he’d been caught stealing food was definitely odd.

And Frank didn’t like odd, especially when there was a woman who’d been missing for over a month and Michael had been caught stealing food for more than one person twice now. Although why a twenty-two-year-old would kidnap a sixty-five-year-old woman and keep her hostage for this length of time was beyond imagining.

Frank motioned to Michael with a simple nod of his head. The tall, dark-haired man walked toward him slowly, with eyes that darted everywhere but at Frank.

“Yeah?”

“How about, ‘Can I help you, Detective Delaney?’ Now, let’s try it again.” Frank kept his voice low and with more than a hint of steel.

“Can I help you, Detective Delaney?” Michael asked with just enough attitude to irritate Frank but not enough to call any more attention to it.

“As a matter of fact, you can. You can tell me what you’ve done today from the moment you woke up this morning to this very minute.”

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Michael asked. As Frank merely stared at him expectantly, Michael cast his gaze to the left and expelled a deep sigh. “I got out of bed around ten and then spent most of the day looking for a job. I finally ended up here a couple of hours ago to have a few beers and enjoy some pool time with my buds.”

“I’d think it would be easier to get a job if you hadn’t stolen from the previous two jobs you’ve had. You got a problem with the Marcoli sisters?”

Michael’s gaze met his briefly and then again slid to the side. “Not particularly.”

“What about Marlene? You got a problem with her or did you get it all out of your system when you were trashing her apartment?”

Michael took a step backward, his body tense, and Frank knew instinctively that the kid was responsible for the mess at Marlene’s.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael mumbled.

“I think you do, and you’d better hope that we don’t pull any of your prints off the broken dishes we gathered as evidence. My advice to you would be to stay as far away from the Marcoli family as possible.”

“I’ll take that advice. Are we done here?” Michael asked.

“For now,” Frank replied. He watched as the young man ambled back to his friends. Even though instinct wasn’t evidence, Frank would bet his badge that the person who had been inside Marlene’s apartment earlier had just walked away from him.

Minutes later as Frank got into his car to head home he made a mental note to himself to check further into Michael Arello’s life. He wanted to know why the kid was stealing food when Frank knew his parents were doing fine and he was certain there was always enough to eat in the household.

He glanced at his watch, surprised to discover that it was nearly eleven. It was too late to talk to the Arellos tonight, but first thing in the morning he intended to speak to Michael’s parents and see if they knew what was up with their son.

Right now it was time for him to head home. It was time to take a shower and get the scent of Marlene Marcoli out of his head, time to go to bed and probably suffer the nightmares that had plagued him since his wife’s death three years ago.

As he drove toward the small ranch house he’d bought five years before, he thought about everything that had happened over the past month.

Many lives had changed the day that Liz Marcoli had gone missing from her house. There had been no signs of foul play, but the three nieces she had raised as her own children had known something was dreadfully wrong.

As the days passed with no word from Liz, it became equally apparent to Frank and his two partners that something wasn’t right, as well. It just wasn’t normal for a sixty-five-year-old woman to walk away from her life and her loved ones without a word, and with her car in the driveway and her purse containing her wallet with all her identification and credit and bank cards left in the house.

To date her finances hadn’t been tapped and there had been absolutely no leads. It was as if she’d just gone “poof” and disappeared into the air.

Not only had Liz gone missing, but during the past four weeks Roxy, the eldest of the three Marcoli sisters, had her life threatened by, of all people, Stacy, the ex-girlfriend of Frank’s partner Steve. That particular threat had been removed when Frank had been forced to shoot Stacy to save Roxy’s life. Steve and Roxy were now a couple and Steve had been reunited with his seven-year-old son, who had been kidnapped by Stacy and had been missing for two years.

So far that was the only positive that had come out of this case. Liz was still missing and they’d only recently uncovered the cold case of another woman, Agnes Wilson, who was around the same age as Liz and had simply vanished from her home two years before.

Remembering that cold case had done two things...it had galvanized the detectives to compare the two cases and hope that they found some similarities that might lead them to Liz Marcoli, and it had discouraged them in reminding them of their failure to find out what had happened to Agnes.

Frank pulled into his driveway and from the shine of the nearby streetlamp noted that the lawn needed tending, the shutters at the windows needed painting and there was a general air of neglect about the place.

The soul weariness that always assaulted him when he arrived here hit as he got out of his car and walked to the front door. He’d get to the yard work in the next couple of days, not for himself, but rather out of respect for his neighbors.

He opened the front door to the absence of sound, the absence of scent. There hadn’t been a sense of homecoming here for a very long time.

This was just a shelter, nothing more, a place to shower and occasionally grab a meal, but home had died with Grace. They’d had only one year together as husband and wife, but Frank would spend eternity with the weight of the guilt of her death on his shoulders.

He took off his jacket and flung it over the top of a living-room chair, then removed his holster and gun and emptied his pockets on the coffee table in front of the sofa. The brown-and-beige sofa was a sleeper, but he never made the effort to pull it out. It was covered with a white sheet and a bed pillow.

For the past three years the living room had been Frank’s bedroom. He’d been unable to force himself to return to the room that he’d once shared with Grace.

If he were smart, he’d sell the house, find another place to start over and call home, but so far he hadn’t been motivated to do the work to get the place market-ready.

From the living room he headed to the bathroom, where he started the shower, stepped out of his shoes, and then stripped off his slacks and shirt, his white briefs and socks, and threw them all into a waiting laundry basket.

As he stepped beneath the hot spray, he tried to keep thoughts of Marlene out of his head, but no matter how hard he tried she intruded. There was no question that he was drawn to her physical beauty, but he suspected he was also attracted to the very characteristics that put other people off. Her coolness, her tight control over her emotions, or perhaps it was a lack of any real emotions that he found oddly appealing.

Living with Grace had been filled with drama and emotion and passion. It had been invigorating, exciting and utterly exhausting.

If he ever decided to have any kind of a relationship with a woman again, he’d pick somebody like Marlene...cool, calm and an unlikely candidate to want anything deep or meaningful.

As he dried off he thought of that moment when he’d looked into her eyes and saw the hint of secrets, of something dark and haunting. Had he only imagined it? After all, she’d just had a break-in into her private quarters. Maybe he’d mistaken fear for something more mysterious.

In any case, he knew exactly what Marlene Marcoli wanted from him and it had nothing to do with any kind of a personal relationship. She and her sisters wanted their beloved aunt Liz found alive and well.

But with over a month of no contact and few clues to follow, Frank wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic about the case.

They had one man in their sights who was a potential person of interest. Edward Cardell had been secretly dating Liz, and on the morning of her disappearance he had gone to a mountain cabin to spend a couple of days. The detectives had had dogs brought in to see if they could pick up any of Liz’s scent at the cabin, but they hadn’t.

That didn’t take Cardell off their list of possible suspects. As far as they knew, Cardell was the last person to speak to Liz before she disappeared. He’d had a secret relationship with her and was pushing for her to make it public. That much the detectives knew.

But had there been a fight that had escalated and had Edward killed Liz? Unfortunately, there was no evidence to support the theory.

As Frank pulled on a pair of boxers that he slept in and left the bathroom, he wondered who on his team would be the one to break the news to the Marcoli sisters that what the lawmen were doing now was more a recovery effort than a true search.

Although none of the three detectives had actually spoken the words aloud, Frank believed Liz Marcoli was dead and he knew his partners, Steve and Jimmy, agreed.

Chapter 3

She’d had the horrible nightmare again the night before. It was unusual to suffer through it two nights in a row, but Marlene suspected the break-in was what had prompted the night terror to once again disturb her sleep.

She now sat at the tiny table in her apartment, waiting for Larry Samson to arrive with a solid new door and strong locks. She’d already been downstairs to speak to Minnie, who had been horrified by the fact that somebody had broken into the apartment and angry when she’d told Marlene she thought she’d seen Michael Arello hanging around the building around four yesterday afternoon.

The strong possibility that it had been Michael was actually a relief. She could handle an angry kid who broke dishes and overturned plants to vent his anger. What she couldn’t handle was anything from her past leaping into her present.

She jumped and spilled her coffee as a knock fell on her door, even though she’d been expecting the arrival of Larry. It just went to show that she wasn’t as cool and calm as she wanted to be.

“Morning, Marlene,” Larry greeted her as she opened her door.

“Good morning, Larry,” she replied.

“Sorry about your problems last night, but I’m going to fix you up just fine. I’ve got a new solid-core door downstairs that nobody is going to come through and it’s got both a good solid key lock and a dead bolt.”

“Sounds wonderful to me.” She grabbed a paper towel and sopped up the spilled coffee. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“Not a thing, except stay out of my way.” Larry grinned, exposing a missing front tooth.

“That I can do,” Marlene replied. “I’m going into my bedroom. Help yourself to the coffee if you want any.”

“Will do, thanks.” He turned and disappeared from the door, his heavy work boots clomping on every step downward.

Larry Samson’s old red pickup was a familiar sight around town. Unofficially he was the handyman everyone used for everything from fixing faulty plumbing to repairing a wooden porch.

He had the kind of weathered, wrinkled face that made it impossible to guess his age. He might be in his fifties; he could be in his seventies.

Marlene knew he wasn’t married and that he lived in one of the cabins in the mountains that cradled the small town of Wolf Creek. He was as much a part of the small town as the Wolf’s Head Tavern, which was rumored to have been the first official business built to form the town.

Once in her bedroom she made up her bed and grabbed the laptop. Seated in the center of the pink bedspread, she turned on the laptop and found the files of recipes she had been keeping for years and continued to add to whenever a creative baking idea struck her.

There had been a time when these special recipes were meant to be the cornerstone of her own bakery on Main Street. The plan had always been that she’d work the store with Sheri until she had the seed money to start her own business.

Marlene’s Magic Bites—the place would have a pink-and-black awning over the door and inside not only big glass display cases for her goodies but also tall tables with stools for anyone who wanted to sit and enjoy their sweet bites inside.

Now it was a dream that would never be realized, a dream that had died, along with most of her soul, in Pittsburgh. She closed the file and instead pulled up the list of store inventory and made a note of what she and Sheri needed to order in the next couple of days.

By noon the new door was installed and she’d showered and dressed for the day at the store. Before leaving the apartment, she locked both the lower lock and the dead bolt, and pocketed the new set of keys. She was confident that there would be no repeat of what she’d walked into the evening before.

Although it was early for her shift at the shop, she had decided to go on in. She enjoyed the company of Sheri and their help, Jennifer and Abe, and the silence of her apartment had felt oppressive this morning despite Larry’s work on the door.

While she was relatively certain that the break-in had been the work of Michael Arello, the whole incident had left her jumpy and on edge and ready to leave the apartment for the day.

She rolled down the car window to allow in the fresh spring air, and tried to empty her mind, to achieve the faint shield of numbness that had become a comfortable, familiar companion.

As she pulled around to the parking in the back of the store, there was only one car in the front parking lot. Business usually picked up later in the afternoon and would only get better as the summer season got into full swing.

She paused before getting out of the car to check her purse and make sure she had her cell phone. She was vaguely surprised that she hadn’t heard from Frank yet. Surely he’d had time to talk to Michael Arello by now.

Satisfied that she had her phone, she got out of the car and entered the shop through the back door and into the storage area. Abe sat at the picnic table where they all took their breaks, a large submarine sandwich on a paper plate before him.

“Hey, Marlene.” He greeted her with a smile. Abe Winslow was the person both Sheri and Marlene depended on not just for heavy lifting but also so that the store had a male presence, making it less likely that somebody would try to take advantage of a shop full of women.

“Hi, Abe. Has it been busy this morning?”

He shook his head. “Slow day, but hopefully things will pick up later.”

“That sandwich looks big enough to feed a family of four,” she said teasingly.

“Just right for a big guy like me,” he replied and patted his slightly protruding stomach. “All that’s missing is a nice big hunk of one of your aunt Liz’s pies or cakes.”

A stab of pain pierced through Marlene’s heart as she thought of her missing aunt. “Hopefully you’ll get some of her pies or cakes again in the near future.” With a wave of her hand, she left the storage area and went into the main shop, where Sheri stood behind the register and a husband and wife attempted to corral three children running through the aisles.

“Hey, sis,” Sheri greeted her. “I heard about the drama at your place last night.”

“Let me guess...Roxy. She came running up the stairs like a short Amazon warrior ready to kick butt.”

Sheri laughed. “That’s our Roxy.” Her laughter died. “Seriously, are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine. I had Larry Samson come by first thing this morning and put in a door that a Titan couldn’t get through. I’ve just been waiting for an update from Frank to see if the culprit was the little stinker Michael.”

“I should have never given him a second chance after knowing he’d stolen from Roxy’s place,” Sheri said regretfully.

Marlene smiled. “But that’s what you do. Roxy kicks butt and you give people second chances. It’s hard to believe we all came from the same mother.”

“Speaking of which, did Frank happen to mention if he’s found out where Ramona might be holed up?”

“He still hasn’t managed to find her anywhere,” Marlene replied. “I’m going to go straighten up some of the shelves,” she said as the shopping family approached the register carrying a variety of items.

Marlene began to walk the aisles, straightening items as she went. Her thoughts centered suddenly on the mother who had abandoned them all. Ramona Marcoli, Liz’s much-younger sister, had left Wolf Creek when she’d been seventeen years old. Eight years later she’d returned just long enough to drop off seven-year-old Roxy on Liz’s doorstep, and then a little over four years later had dropped off four-year-old Marlene. Sheri had come four years after that as a newborn.

Liz had taken in each of her sister’s children as her own, and it was rare that Marlene even thought about the woman who had given birth to them. She had only vague memories of those first four years of her life, and she didn’t even remember what Ramona looked like.

But Ramona had become a person of interest in Liz’s disappearance, and the fact that Frank and the other detectives had been unable to locate Ramona was the only reason Roxy and Sheri continued to maintain hope that Liz would turn up alive and well.

Marlene didn’t entertain the same fantasy. She didn’t believe in fairy-tale happy endings. Although she spoke differently aloud, she was a realist and after this length of time she believed Liz was dead. It was a belief she hadn’t shared with her sisters or anyone else, but rather an ache in her soul that she kept to herself.

The afternoon passed slowly, with few customers, and by four o’clock Marlene shooed Sheri out of the store. They’d already sent Jennifer home.

“Get out of here,” Marlene had said to Sheri. “There’s no point in both of us being here with Abe and no customers.”

After a weak protest, Sheri had grabbed her purse and left. Marlene sat on a stool behind the register while Abe worked in the storeroom unloading a shipment of the latest in Wolf Creek souvenirs.

She assumed that since Frank hadn’t called her he had no definitive answers for her. She’d hoped that Frank had confronted Michael by now and that Michael had fallen to his knees and confessed.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered aloud and stood as a customer came into the shop.

It was just before six when Abraham Zooker pulled up in his horse and carriage. Abraham was one of the Amish who lived on the nearby settlement and often brought in new pieces of furniture to sell on consignment.

He stopped in the store about once a week, either to bring something new or to check on the sales of the items he’d already brought in to sell.

This time he brought nothing inside with him except a smile. “Good evening, Marlene. I was driving from town to my home and decided to stop by.”

“I’m glad you did. We sold one of your quilt racks and a cupboard this past week.” She opened the register and pulled out an envelope that had his name written on it. Inside would be an accounting of the sale of the items and the money due to him.

“I thank you,” he said as he took the envelope. “And if you have room in the store I thought perhaps next week I’d bring in a bookcase I’ve been working on.”

“We always have room for your things,” Marlene replied. The older Amish man was a gifted crafter of fine furniture and they had been very successful in selling many of his beautiful pieces.

Abraham stayed only a few minutes making small talk about the weather and spring planting and then finally left. He had no wife and she rarely saw him with others from the Amish settlement, but he seemed satisfied creating sturdy, well-made, beautiful furniture for others to enjoy.

Around seven o’clock, Frank Delaney’s familiar car pulled up in front of the store. There were no other customers and she’d sent Abe home a few minutes before, deciding that she’d close the store at this time again tonight.

At the sight of Frank getting out of his car, her stomach twisted into a knot of tension. It was a tension she wasn’t sure was created by the fact that he was hot and handsome and set her senses on edge, or if it was because if he told her that Michael Arello wasn’t responsible for the mess in her apartment the night before then she had to wonder who in this small town might hate her enough to invade and destroy her personal space. Or if the evil man from her past had for some reason entered into her present?

* * *

Frank had specifically waited until this late in the evening to stop by and touch base with Marlene, hoping there would be no customers in the store and he would have a few minutes alone with her.

It was ridiculous, how much she’d been on his mind throughout the day. He had spent the daytime hours speaking with the Arellos and interviewing Minnie and anyone else who might have seen Michael lurking around the area of the apartment the day before.

But he’d also spent far too much time wondering if her pale blond hair was as silky as it looked, if her ice-blue eyes would deepen in hue and light with fire when she made love.

He hadn’t thought this way about a woman since his wife’s death. He’d noticed Marlene the first time she’d come in with her sisters to file a report on their missing aunt, and for the past month he’d tried to fight against his growing attraction to her.

Today he’d lost the battle. He had no idea if she might be attracted to him, but tonight he intended to find out. He wasn’t looking for any happily ever after; he wasn’t even looking for long-term.

But when he’d awakened that morning on his sofa, he’d been struck with a core of loneliness that had made him realize he was hungry for female companionship. He was hungry for Marlene’s companionship.

He walked into the store, pleased to see her standing behind the register. “Marlene,” he said in greeting.

“Frank, I was wondering if I was going to hear anything from you today.”

“Sorry it’s so late, but I wanted to make sure I had a solid answer for you.” He took several steps closer to the counter, noting how the light blue of her blouse intensified the glacier-blue of her eyes.

“And do you have a solid answer for me?” She leaned forward, appearing to vibrate with tension.

At that moment Frank wanted nothing more than to step around the counter and pull her into his arms to ease the tension, the faint whisper of fear that shimmered in the very depths of her eyes.

He couldn’t hold her to take away any fear, but he could do it by telling her what had happened throughout the day. “I definitely have a solid answer. It took me all day long, but after Michael had a long talk with his parents, and then realized you weren’t going to press charges, he confessed.”

He heard her audible sigh of relief and he continued, “He was mad at you and wanted to do something to vent his anger. Even though you have decided not to press charges, for the next four weeks Michael is going to be picking up trash along Main Street for three hours a day, three days a week. It was an agreement his parents encouraged him to take.”

She nodded, as if satisfied with the arrangement. “I’m just glad it’s all been resolved. Did he say why he keeps stealing food? I mean, honestly, he could have walked out our back door with all kinds of expensive items instead of just a box of bread and a couple of jars of apple butter.”

“Unfortunately, no matter how hard I pushed him the only answer I could get out of him about the food was that it was all for him.”

“Strange, but I guess growing young men eat a lot,” she replied.

“Trust me, my father used to complain that he needed two jobs just to buy groceries when I was younger. And speaking of my father, he’s retiring from the fire department next week and I’ve always teased him that when that time came I’d make sure he had a good rocking chair.”

She gestured toward the furniture section on the other side of the store. “We have several here if what you want is a good, sturdy Amish-made rocker.”

“That’s exactly what I’m looking for,” he replied and was pleased when she stepped out from behind the counter to walk with him to the furniture area.

As usual she looked cool and elegant in her pale blue blouse and a pair of tailored navy slacks. Small gold hoops hung from her ears, visible only when she tucked that shiny hair behind an ear.

“Abraham Zooker makes all the furniture we sell,” she said as she led him to three rocking chairs.

“I know Abraham and his work. I’ve got a couple of his pieces in my home.” He ran a hand over the top of one of the rockers, admiring the smoothness of the wood.

“This one is my favorite,” she said as she focused his attention on an old-fashioned platform rocker. Her features appeared warmer, more alive as she spoke of the chair. “It also has a footstool that goes with it, and it glides so smoothly. Go ahead, have a seat,” she encouraged him.

Self-consciously he eased down into the chair and rocked a couple of times and then stood. “It’s perfect. I’ll take it.”

“Abraham will be so pleased,” she replied. And then she smiled. It was the first time he’d seen a genuine smile curve her lips and light up her features, and the power of it punched him square in the gut with a starburst of heat.

“Uh, unfortunately, I can pay for it today, but I’ll have to come back tomorrow with my pickup truck to take it home.”

“That’s fine,” she replied as they walked back to the register.

The transaction was completed and still Frank lingered. “I thought this was about the time you closed up shop,” he said.

“During the summers we normally stay open until nine, but I’ve been shutting down around seven right now since the busy tourist trade hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“So I’m your last customer of the day.”

“It appears so.”

“Do you like Chinese food?”

She blinked twice, as if to process the abrupt change in the conversation. “I love it.”

“Could I interest you in having dinner with me at Chang Li’s?”

Her cheeks turned a dusty pink. “Oh, thank you for the invitation, but I don’t date.”

“Not even for a quick bite to eat?”

“No, not even for that.” She appeared to find the top of the counter fascinating.

Fierce disappointment swept through him. “No problem. It was just a thought. At least we managed to get to the bottom of your intruder last night, and Michael knows he’s on a short leash, as far as I’m concerned. The next time I hear about him being involved in any stealing or break-ins or destruction of property, I’ve let him know that he’ll face charges no matter what.”

“That’s good. It sounds like what he needs is a little tough love.” She finally met his gaze again.

“If you’re ready to leave, I’ll walk you to your car.” Surely there was no way she could turn down this gentlemanly request from him.

The smile had long ago fallen from her features and now she frowned, dancing a faint wrinkle across her forehead. “I’m parked out back.”

“That’s okay. You lock up or do whatever you need to do in here and I’ll see you to your car and then walk back around to mine.” He wasn’t sure why he was so insistent. He only knew a desire to get her to see him as more than a detective working on her missing aunt’s case.

She shrugged. “All right.” An awkward silence descended between them as she took a few minutes to close out the register and then lock the front doors.

He followed behind her through the huge storage room and then out the back door, where the sun had lowered in the sky. Her car was the only one in the small lot and as she reached it she unlocked the driver’s-side door and then turned to face him.

“Thank you for seeing me to my car, although it wasn’t really necessary.”

He nodded. “I know. It was just something I wanted to do.” He hesitated a moment. “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind about getting some dinner? It doesn’t have to be tonight. You pick the night...whenever.”

“Positive, but I do appreciate the invitation.”

Frank shifted from one foot to the other, feeling like a hormone-driven teenager. “Is it me specifically or is it just a general rule that you don’t date?”

“Oh, Frank, it’s definitely not you.” She placed her hand on his arm, her touch warming him through the suit jacket he wore. “It’s just that I’ve already had my chance at a relationship and it was a dismal failure. I’m not in a place where I want to try it again with anyone.” She dropped her hand to her side.

“So, you don’t find me ugly or abhorrent or anything like that.”

He was rewarded by her laugh, a tinkling musical sound that mingled with the last calls of the day birds from the nearby woods.

“No, not at all.” Once again her cheeks blossomed with a faint pink color and for a brief moment he thought he saw a touch of yearning in her eyes. “Actually, I find you quite attractive, but that doesn’t change my rule. Good night, Frank.” She opened her car door and slid in behind the wheel.

He watched as she drove off, oddly encouraged despite the fact that he’d been shut down. She found him quite attractive. It wasn’t much, but it was a beginning...something he could build on. All he needed was a little persistence, a little patience and a lot of charm, and he had a feeling he had a possible chance to change Marlene’s no-dating rule.

* * *

He stood with his back pressed against one of the trees in the woods near the back parking lot of the Roadside Stop, watching the tall, beautiful blonde and the detective together.

They liked each other. It was obvious in the subtle way they leaned toward each other as they spoke, in the way he’d made her laugh.

Hatred ripped through his body, twisting his guts and making him feel half-nauseated. Even after Marlene Marcoli and Detective Frank Delaney had left the parking area, he remained against the rough tree bark, his entire being filled with his rage.

She was nothing more than a cold, uncaring witch and Frank had enough sins on his head to weigh him down straight to hell. There would be no angels singing at the pearly gates for the two of them when they died, and he would see to it that they didn’t die a natural death.

They didn’t know it yet, but he was an avenging angel. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips. Avenging Angel. He liked that.

Killers who had special names always attained notoriety, from the Night Stalker to the Craigslist Killer; regular people loved to have special names for their monsters.

He sniffed and wiped his nose, a chill letting him know he was on the verge of getting dope sick. Time to go home and take care of himself. Once he was strong and well, driven by his hatred and the heightened senses and endless energy that cocaine always gave him, he’d put together his plans to destroy the two people he’d just seen in the parking lot.

Chapter 4

Frank, Steve Kincaid and Jimmy Carmani all sat in the small confines of chief of police Brad Krause’s office. Krause was a young man for his position. He wore his thick brown hair slightly shaggy, and Frank suspected nobody had been more surprised than Brad himself when he’d won the election two years ago.

He appeared young until you looked into his eyes...they were those of an old soul, and a startling green that shone with a keen intelligence. He was not only a leader in the squad room but was also a savvy politician when it came to dealing with the difficult, fiery, aptly named Ralph Storm, who served as mayor of the small burg.

Brad sat behind his desk as he eyed the three men before him. “I have a Storm chewing on my butt. The tourist season will soon be here and the mayor doesn’t like the fact that one of our own is missing, and I need an update on the Liz Marcoli case.”

“We have no update,” Jimmy said flatly.

“There’s nothing new to report,” Steve added.

Frank said nothing but felt the frustration he knew both of his partners felt.

“No movement on her finances?” Brad asked.

“None,” Frank replied, since he was the one monitoring Liz Marcoli’s bank account.

“And still no word on Ramona Marcoli?”

“She’s completely off the grid,” Frank said. “She apparently doesn’t own a car and doesn’t have a job, and I’ve been unable to track her down anywhere.”

“What do you think the odds are that Liz is with Ramona somewhere?”

“Zero,” Steve replied without hesitation. “If Liz was with Ramona she would have found a way to call Roxy or one of her sisters. There’s no way Liz would want those young women to suffer the unknown. They are like daughters to her.”

Brad sighed and stood from his desk. He moved over to the window, where he looked out on the alley between the police station and the local grocery store. He certainly hadn’t taken the job for the spectacular view from his office.

He turned back to look at them. “I know you were comparing the case of the missing Agnes Wilson to Liz’s hoping to find some intersection that might take you someplace closer to what happened to the two women. Anything come of that?”

“Nothing worthwhile yet,” Steve answered. “They both shopped in the same grocery store and both spent time at the Roadside Stop and Roxy’s restaurant, but that’s not unusual in a town this size. The two women’s lives intersected in dozens of ways.”

“We’re in the process of checking out everyone who works at those places.” Jimmy shifted his position on the hard-backed chair. “We also haven’t ruled out Edward Cardell as a person of interest in Liz’s disappearance.”

“We’re attempting to find out if Cardell was dating Agnes Wilson two years ago, but people have short memories and Agnes had no family members who might know about her love life at the time of her disappearance,” Frank said.

“So, what’s next? Give me something I can take back to the mayor.”

“Tell him we’re actively working the case,” Steve said as he raked a hand through his sun-streaked shaggy hair. “Tell him if he’s got any ideas we’re open to hearing them.” His voice held a slight edge of sarcasm.

“We checked out Edward Cardell’s cabin, but maybe it’s time we start checking out some of the others,” Jimmy suggested.

“There are hundreds of little abandoned or seasonal cabins in the mountains,” Steve protested.

“But any one of them might be a perfect place to keep a woman captive,” Brad replied. “I’ll assign three more men to help with the search of the cabins. I’ll give you Joe Jamison, Wade Peters and Richard Crossly. You all figure out the details, but I want a search of all those cabins started first thing tomorrow morning so I can let the mayor know we’re pulling out all the stops to solve this missing-persons case.”

He walked over and sat back down at his desk. “Maybe while you’re at it you could stumble across Agnes Wilson and close that case, as well. Now, get out of here and get to work.”

“I know you’re disappointed,” Frank said to Jimmy as they left the office.

Jimmy frowned. “Disappointed about what?”

“That Chelsea wasn’t assigned to work with us.”

Steve laughed as Jimmy delivered a karate chop to Frank’s arm. “Shut your mouth,” he said as a blush darkened his neck before creeping over his face.

Chelsea Loren wasn’t just a fellow officer; she was also a woman on a mission―a mission to find a husband. She’d first set her sights on Steve, but when he’d hooked up with Roxy, Chelsea had directed her charms at Jimmy, who had no interest in the striking blonde who was well-known for her penchant for cosmetic enhancements. At the moment she sported a pair of duck lips that she pursed and pouted whenever she didn’t get her way.

“I’m just hoping if I give her enough rejection she’ll focus her love addiction on you,” Jimmy said to Frank.

“She does smell like desperation,” Steve said. “And speaking of desperation, we need to get Wade, Joe and Richard in here and figure out a plan.”

The next couple of hours passed slowly as the six men used a conference room and a map of the area to draw up grids to be searched. It was agreed that Joe, Wade and Richard would work as a team, checking out each place together for safety purposes.

Although most of the cabins were marked on the map they worked from, they all knew that there were many lean-tos, sheds and small structures that were not on the map.

Frank spent much of the afternoon in the assessor’s office, pulling up the properties and finding out owner names, a tedious job that had him exhausted by the time he had enough information for the three searchers to begin the task the next morning.

“We’ll check off each cabin as we clear it and draw in any structures that aren’t on the map,” Joe said.

Frank was unsurprised that Joe had taken the lead of the three-man team. Well over six feet tall, with arms and legs the size of tree trunks, he was a big but gentle man who was widely liked and respected. He was also a born leader, sensitive to others and smart as a whip.

“You won’t have search warrants, so the cabins that are locked and obviously occupied will have to be checked out by peeking in windows or getting the owner’s permission,” Frank said as he handed over the list of the owners’ names he’d managed to get from city sources. “Try to contact the owners and get permission to get inside when possible. The buildings that are obviously abandoned shouldn’t be a problem.”

“If we find something suspicious, do we have the authority to call in Jed and his dogs?” Joe asked. Jed Wilson trained and worked both search-and-rescue and cadaver dogs, and the department had kept a light pink cardigan sweater that had been a favorite of Liz’s just for the purpose of giving the dogs a scent.

“Absolutely,” Steve replied and looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s after six. Why don’t we all get out of here so we can get an early start in the morning?”

Frank smiled inwardly. There had been a time when Steve preferred to burn the midnight oil instead of going home. Since his son had been returned to him and Roxy Marcoli had become a part of his life, Steve was the first one of them looking to head home each evening.

With the night crew already in place, there was really no reason for Frank to hang around, and yet always at this time of day, he dreaded the thought of going home.

For Steve, his missing son had transformed his gorgeous mountain home into an unwelcome place until Tommy had been returned and Roxy had added to his life.

For Frank it was the memory of his dead wife who seemed to haunt the house where he’d believed they’d been building a future together.

He shoved away thoughts of Grace as he got into his truck. He’d specifically driven it into work today so he could swing by the Roadside Stop and pick up the rocking chair he’d bought the night before.

The thought of seeing Marlene again sparked a new burst of energy through him despite the fact that it had been a long day. As he drove past Chang Li’s he thought about the fact that Marlene had told him she loved Chinese.

On an impulse he turned his truck around and drove into the restaurant parking lot. He was definitely taking a chance, stepping out of his comfort zone. But the truth was he hadn’t been inside a comfort zone for a very long time.

The past three years had been a haze of work and grief and more than a touch of anger and guilt, but the grief had lifted, and for the first time, the desire for a new life, for something different, stirred in his heart.

Twenty minutes later he left the restaurant with two large bags of a variety of dishes. The smell in the cab of the truck was heavenly as he drove on to the Roadside Stop. The scent of sweet-and-sour chicken mingled with beef broccoli stir-fry and egg drop soup.

He knew he was being presumptuous, understood that he ran the possibility of offending her with his little surprise. He only hoped that if his offering ticked her off, she’d at least allow him to grab his rocking chair before she kicked him out of the store.

* * *

Marlene was in the process of locking up the store when Frank’s pickup pulled up in front. She’d wondered as evening approached if he was going to make it here before she closed for the night.

Granted, it was still a few minutes before seven, but the day had been dismally slow and she’d finally decided to close out the register and shut the doors.

She unlocked the door once again and frowned upon seeing Frank’s approach, two large bags in his hands. As he walked in the door she instantly smelled Chang Li’s and she eyed him suspiciously.

“It’s dinner, but it’s not a date,” he said hurriedly. “I just thought I’d share a little Chang Li’s with you to thank you for helping me pick out a rocking chair for my dad.”

He stood just inside the door, looking surprisingly nervous as he waited for her response. She felt as if she should be offended, as if somehow she should be angry that he’d crossed over a boundary, but in truth she was more than a little bit charmed.

He seemed so uncertain, so unlike the take-charge detective she’d known before.

“I suppose it would be a shame for all that food to go to waste,” she replied, rewarded by the smile of relief that lit his features. “Why don’t you take it to the picnic table in the storage room and I’ll go ahead and relock the front door.”

“Great,” he replied and quickly headed for the storeroom as if afraid she might change her mind.

As Marlene relocked the door, she knew somehow that this was a mistake. Even though he’d said it was a simple thank-you for the rocking chair, she knew it was his intent to circumvent her rules about dating.

But the food smelled delicious and there was nothing remotely romantic about eating in the storage room, so she’d give him a pass this time.

Once she got to the back room, he’d unloaded the containers from the plastic bags. “My gosh, it looks like you bought one of everything on the menu,” she said.

“Not quite, but since I didn’t know exactly what you liked I got a little of this and a little of that.” He waited until she sat on the bench and then sat across from her at the wooden table.

“Chopsticks or plastic utensils?” he asked.

“Definitely plastic. As much as I love Chinese food, I’ve never gotten the hang of chopsticks.” She took a paper plate from him and then began to take servings from the waxed boxes in the center of the table. Once she’d filled her plate, he filled his, and then the silence descended.

It was definitely an awkward silence. Marlene had never been good at small talk and apparently Frank suffered from the same affliction.

“Busy day?” he finally asked.

“Unbelievably slow,” she replied. She pulled apart a crab rangoon to make it easier to eat. “Within a couple of weeks or so, the travelers will be out on the roads and tourists will start to pour in. Summer is always our busiest time.”

Once again silence prevailed, a tense, uncomfortable silence that Marlene didn’t know how to break. For too long it had been pounded into her head to speak only when spoken to, to have no opinions of her own. She was just supposed to look pretty and obey.

“We assigned a three-man team today to start searching all the cabins in the mountains to see if your aunt is being held in one of them,” he said.

“I’m sure she’s dead,” Marlene replied flatly. Frank looked at her in stunned surprise. “You’re the only person I’ve said that to. I know Roxy and Sheri still have hopes that she’ll be found alive, but I’m more of a realist than they are.” She gazed into his eyes. “Surely you aren’t going to placate me and tell me you believe she’s still alive after all this time?”

Frank shifted on the bench and dropped his gaze to his plate. “I could tell you that without a body there’s always hope, but the truth is I think you’re probably right.”

She nodded, pleased that he had been truthful with her. “I just know that if she was alive anywhere she would have managed to somehow contact one of us, and that hasn’t happened.”

“Maybe she’s being held in a place where she can’t get word to any of you, like an isolated mountain cabin,” he offered.

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “But it’s easier for me to believe she’s dead. I’m not one of those hopeless optimists who are too often disappointed. I leave that to Roxy and Sheri.”

“Roxy seems to be exceptionally optimistic about life these days.” Frank took another helping of sweet-and-sour chicken and placed it on his plate.

A whisper of a smile moved Marlene’s lips as she thought of her older sister. “She’s in love. Steve and little Tommy are good for her and I hope they’ll be very happy together.”

“I hear a touch of dubiousness in your voice. You don’t believe in happy marriages?”

“I haven’t had a lot of experiences with them.” It was difficult to think about marriage with him sitting in front of her, so handsome in his black slacks and white shirt and a lightweight black jacket that she knew hid his shoulder holster and gun.

It was so difficult not to feel a sensual pull toward him. The spicy scent of him was far too pleasant; the dark blue of his eyes threatened to pull her into places she didn’t want to go.

“I was raised by a widowed aunt, abandoned by a mother who, as far as I know, never married anyone, and my own marriage definitely left a bad taste in my mouth. I’m just not in a place to believe that it would work for me. What about you?” She much preferred that the topic of conversation be about him rather than her.

She’d also realized that despite the fact that they were seated at a picnic table in a storage room, there was a sense of intimacy that made her even more uncomfortable.

“I definitely believe in the institution of marriage for other people.” Shadows fell in his eyes. “But like you, I feel like I had my chance at it and it didn’t work out.”

“I heard that you’re a widower. Was your wife sick?”

“Yeah, she was.” His eyes shuttered completely, indicating that he wasn’t willing to speak about it anymore. He placed one of the empty cartons into one of the large bags he’d carried in.

“Looks like you’re going to have enough leftovers for another meal,” she said.

“You’re welcome to take whatever is left home with you,” he replied.

“That’s okay. You go ahead and take it.” It was lame that their conversation revolved around who took home the remaining Chinese food. She didn’t even know anymore how to have a casual conversation with a man, she thought with disgust. “You mentioned your dad’s retirement. What about your mother?” she asked, feeling desperate to talk about something while they finished the meal.

“Mom passed away five years ago from cancer.”

“I’m so sorry. It sounds like in the last five years you’ve had more than your share of heartache.”

His dark blue eyes appeared to grow darker. “I have. It’s been a rough patch, but lately I’m feeling like I’m crawling out and looking forward to life again.” He tilted his head and eyed her curiously. “Don’t you get lonely, Marlene?”

The question caught her by surprise. She pushed her plate to the side, her gaze not quite meeting his. “I don’t think about it much. I have the store and my sisters, and I guess that’s enough for me right now.”

“But I’m sure you’re going to see less of Roxy now that she’s involved with Steve, and eventually Sheri will fall in love and get married or whatever and when that happens that doesn’t leave you with much.”

She raised an eyebrow as she gazed at him once again, this time with a hint of suspicion. “Is this some sort of a ploy of yours to get me to agree to a date? Point out how lonely I’ll be when my sisters are married and I’m all alone?”

He laughed, the sound a low rumble that echoed warmth through her. “Actually, it wasn’t a conscious ploy, but now that you mention it, it sounds pretty good to me.”

There was no way Marlene would tell him that even through her two-year marriage there had been a core of loneliness inside her, one that had only grown deeper, more intense since her return to Wolf Creek.

But it was a hole inside her that she knew nothing would fill, one that she deserved. “I think maybe it’s time we load that rocking chair so I can get home,” she replied. She began to pack up the last of the food and place it in the bag so he could take it with him.

She had always thought of him as a distant, slightly stern man, but the person she’d just eaten with had a nice sense of humor and if she spent any more time with him she might decide a date with him wouldn’t be a terrible thing. Definitely time to send him packing.

He tore off a piece of one of the empty container lids and scribbled something on it. “Here, it’s my phone number. Just in case you change your mind. I’m just looking for a little companionship, Marlene, nothing more.”

He held out the piece of cardboard toward her and she hesitated, but then took it and tucked it into her pants pocket. She would toss it away when she got home. She had no intention of allowing Frank to get close to her on any personal level. She didn’t intend to allow anyone to make his way into a heart that no longer existed.

As they returned to the front of the store, he stripped off his suit jacket to expose a short-sleeved white shirt and his holster and gun. When he lifted the chair to carry it to the front door, it wasn’t the gun in the holster that captured her attention, but rather the big guns his biceps sported.

An unexpected warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach as she found herself wondering what those muscles would feel like wrapped around her. She mentally shook herself. That was the last thing she wanted, and even the fantasy of wanting to be held by Frank felt fraught with the aura of danger.

Just like the night before, he insisted he see her to her car after she’d locked up the store. Driving home, she couldn’t get him or his final question out of her head.

Was she lonely? Absolutely. But her isolation was her own doing. She’d come home from Pittsburgh with such a wealth of guilt, a Pandora’s box of secrets that forced her to keep people at bay.

She wore a mask and feared that if anyone got a peek beneath it they’d see the monster she was, the sins she’d committed that had made her unfit for anyone.

Frank was not just a hot, handsome man—he also seemed like a nice man, and if he was ready to begin life anew, he deserved somebody better than her. He deserved a whole woman, and she would never, ever be whole again.

By the time she arrived home she was unusually exhausted, haunted by thoughts of her past and faintly depressed as she contemplated her future.

Maybe in the morning she’d drive over to her aunt’s house and bake several things. There was both pain and pleasure at the thought—the pain of Aunt Liz’s absence and the pleasure of creating something delicious that she could take to the store for customers to enjoy.

Although she often baked in her tiny apartment, if she wanted to do more than one goodie she usually headed to her aunt’s place, where Liz had the best equipment to create culinary magic. Surely working on some special cupcakes and maybe cinnamon rolls would take her mind off Frank Delaney. Just a little companionship—he’d said that was all he was looking for—but she knew companionship could quickly change to something deeper and she just wasn’t willing to open herself up ever again.

The sight of the new solid door at the top of her stairs gave her a sense of welcome relief as she fit her key first into the doorknob lock, and then the dead bolt lock.

She opened the door and walked inside, a white envelope sliding in beneath her feet. It must have been on her threshold and she’d kicked it in when she’d entered.

She stared down at it. What now? Maybe it was a note from Minnie, she told herself as she leaned down to pick it up. There was no writing on the front, nothing to indicate where it had come from, although it was sealed tight.

Her heart began to thud a rapid rhythm as she slid her thumbnail under the seal. She wasn’t sure why, but even before she got the envelope open she felt an overwhelming, inexplicable sense of dread.

Inside the envelope was a single sheet of white paper, neatly folded. She pulled it out and opened it, then gasped and allowed it to drop from her fingers.

Stumbling backward, she fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the small piece of cardboard Frank had given her. She fumbled her cell phone from her purse and punched in the number. “Frank, could you come over here? I think I have another problem,” she said when he answered.

Before he could reply she hung up and stepped over the note to relock both locks on her door. She then stood in the center of the room, waiting for Frank to come and make sense of the note that sent chills racing up and down her spine.

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