Sons of Stillwater: Jane Godman’s heart-stopping new miniseries where no one is who they seem...

Coincidence? The beauty who washes up on Mayor Cameron Delaney’s private beach eerily resembles his dead girlfriend, Carla. But Laurie Carter, Carla’s lookalike cousin, is actually an undercover detective. She’s on the job, investigating Cameron’s connection to a human-trafficking ring. Laurie knows she must keep her cover—but she’s struggling to deceive the man she finds irresistible...

When Cameron discovers why Laurie is in town, he’s furious to realize he’s being framed—and stunned at his sudden feelings for the lovely agent. But as they uncover the traffickers, a savage serial killer targets Laurie. Can Cameron save the life of the woman he’s come to care for...and unmask the threat haunting his family and Stillwater?

“I’m not sure it’s safe for you to leave the cabin.”

Laurie’s eyes shifted again to the window. It was completely dark now. “Cameron, I’m a police officer. I’ve worked undercover many times. I’ve felt afraid before, but never like I did when I was here alone.” Her eyes seemed huge as they met his.

Cameron rose and went to the window, closing the drapes and shutting out the night. “Then we’ll just have to take care we don’t bump into our suspect.” He held out his hand. “Let’s get some sleep.”

She rose, coming to him and placing her hand in his. “Sleep?” There was a trace of disappointment in her voice.

“Among other things.”

She rose on the tips of her toes, fitting the contours of her body intimately to his. “It’s the other things that have me interested.”

* * *

Sons of Stillwater: Danger lurks in a small

Wyoming town

Covert Kisses

Jane Godman

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JANE GODMAN writes in a variety of romance genres, including paranormal, gothic and romantic suspense. Jane lives in England and loves to travel to European cities that are steeped in history and romance—Venice, Dubrovnik and Vienna are among her favorites. Jane is married to a lovely man and is mum to two grown-up children.

MILLS & BOON

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This book is dedicated to Debbie, Dan and Luke.

And Gravy. Because, somewhere in the world,

there should be a book dedicated to a dog called Gravy.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Take his breath away.

That was her one and only aim for this first encounter, and Laurie Carter had three things working in her favor as she kept the target in her sights.

First, there was the understated designer swimsuit that molded itself to her curves, while also cleverly drawing attention to the length of her legs.

Then there was the fact that she was wading ashore onto his private lakeside property. As he sprang to his feet from the rock where he had been sitting gazing out across the water, no doubt he was about to point that fact out to her. Laurie did a rapid check, reconciling this man’s physical attributes with the photographs she had carefully memorized. Dark, wavy hair, swept back from a broad brow and worn slightly long so that it curled onto his neck. Deep-set eyes above high, Slavic cheekbones. A hawk-like nose and lips that were contrastingly full. She had the right man. There was no mistaking him. Tall and powerfully built, he moved toward her with the grace of an athlete, a frown line pulling his dark eyebrows together.

Judging the distance between them to perfection, Laurie waited until he was close enough. As she fell into a pretend faint, she saw shock and something more register in the hazel depths of Cameron Delaney’s eyes. Advantage number three was always going to be the one that clinched it. As his reflexes kicked in and he scooped her up into his arms, Laurie let her head flop back, allowing him a clear view of her face.

His exhalation was an audible hiss. Mission accomplished. The fact that she was trespassing on his land had been the thing that made him notice her. The swimsuit had drawn his attention to her curves and kept him looking. Neither of those things had succeeded in driving the breath from his lungs. That had been achieved for one reason only...because she was the mirror image of his dead girlfriend.

* * *

Pure adrenaline fired through Cameron Delaney’s nerve endings as he gazed down at the head resting against his arm. It’s not her. His head insisted on repeating that mantra, even as his heart tried to tell him a different story. Her eyes were closed, so he was free to drink in the features he thought he’d never see again.

Subtle differences began to imprint themselves into his brain. Her weight in his arms felt different. She was an inch or two taller, a few pounds lighter than Carla. Her hair was a tumbling mass. Even though this woman’s was wet, he could tell it was the same dark chestnut as Carla’s—although Carla’s had been longer and artfully streaked with lighter highlights. Carla’s skin tone had been a touch closer to gold than the pale porcelain he was studying so carefully now. This smattering of freckles would have been a cause for outrage if it had dared to spoil the perfection of Carla’s dainty nose and smooth cheeks. A corner of his mouth lifted in amusement as he imagined Carla’s horror at the prospect. My God, am I finally able to remember her with something other than guilt and sadness?

The thought was chased away as the girl in his arms stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open, thick eyelashes lifting to reveal eyes that were a brilliant cornflower blue, a shade lighter than Carla’s. She fixed him with a slightly unfocused stare, then, apparently becoming aware of several things at once—she was in the arms of a complete stranger, her own state of undress and his naked torso in contact with her body—her eyes opened wide.

“Oh, goodness!” Her voice was husky, deeper than he’d expected, her accent hard to place, but definitely not local. “I’m so sorry. I don’t make a habit of trespassing on private land and flopping into the arms of men I don’t know. You can put me down now.”

“Are you sure you can stand?” It seemed incredible, impossible to be talking to someone who looked so much like Carla, yet wasn’t Carla. To not be asking her the dozens of questions that were chasing around inside his head.

“No, but I’ll try...if you don’t mind lending me your arm.” She smiled as she spoke. In that single instant, the subtle physical differences ceased to matter. That smile was pure Carla. It was like an electric shock to his heart and a karate kick in his solar plexus at the same time.

Carefully, Cameron lowered her to the ground. “Who are you?”

As far as he knew, Carla had no family. Could two people who were not blood relatives bear such a striking physical resemblance to each other? The living proof that they could seemed to be standing right next to him.

She clung onto his arm, testing her ability to remain upright. Apparently satisfied with the result, she let go and held out her hand. “Laurie Carter. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Delaney.”

Cameron raised his eyebrows as he shook the proffered hand. “You know who I am?”

She smiled again. He might have to ask her to stop doing that. It was playing havoc with his heart rate. “Surely everyone in Stillwater knows who you are?”

“But you’re not from around here.” He could make that statement with absolute certainty. Stillwater, Wyoming, was a closely knit community. He and Carla had been together for almost three years. During that time, someone would have mentioned the fact that the mayor’s partner had a double living in the county.

“I was born here in Stillwater, but my dad died when I was three, so my mom went back home to her folks’ place in California. That’s where I was raised. I’m here on vacation...curious to see where I started life.” Laurie shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Cameron silently cursed his own clumsiness. Were the biographical questions necessary when she’d sustained a severe shock? “Let’s go up to the house and you can warm up.”

“Oh, hey—” she glanced up at the striking wood and glass structure, just visible through the pine trees bordering the lake, her teeth chattering slightly “—I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Ignoring her protests, he smiled down at her. “It’s an election year. Rescuing tourists who get into difficulties is good for my public image.” Turning away for a second, he stooped to pick up the lightweight sweater he’d discarded when he came down to the beach. “Put this on.”

“It’ll get wet...” Her protests faded at the determined look on his face. Taking the sweater from him, she slipped it on, tugging it down over her swimsuit. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t anyone warn you how difficult it is to swim across the lake?” He gestured for her to precede him up the steps that were hewn into the rock face. The sight of those long, slim legs beneath his sweater did something to his insides. It was a sensation he hadn’t experienced for a long time.

Laurie glanced back at him, a hint of mischief in her smile. “Actually, they did.”

“But you didn’t listen?”

One slender shoulder hunched in a hauntingly familiar gesture. “I’m a good swimmer. I’m also very stubborn. If someone tells me I can’t do something, it becomes the one thing I have to do.”

Cameron’s heart clenched. Hard. It could be Carla talking. How many times had he cursed her obstinacy? She’d made him so mad that last night with her refusal to listen to reason...

He realized Laurie was still speaking and forced himself to tune back in to what she was saying. “If I’d known I’d get a cramp and end up trespassing on your private land, I would have listened to the warnings.”

He returned her smile. It was impossible not to. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

* * *

So far, so good. The house was amazing. All glass and natural wood, it perched above the rock face, jutting out over the lake so every room seemed to be suspended above the water.

“It’s amazing.” Laurie stood at the full-length glass wall in the kitchen while Cameron made coffee. She had used the towel he gave her to get the worst of the lake water out of her hair. When it dried, she would look like a wild woman, but that couldn’t be helped. She was here, inside Cameron Delaney’s house. She’d take successful over well groomed any day. “Who designed it?”

He paused, and she wondered if he was about to tell her the truth. She already knew the answer to her question, of course. Carla Bryan had been one of several architects to submit plans for this beach house. The youngest and most inexperienced, she’d won the contract and Cameron’s heart at the same time. It had all been in the file. The one Laurie had spent the last few weeks painstakingly memorizing.

“The ideas were mine. It just needed a professional to bring them to life. Cream and sugar?”

They took their drinks through to a large family room with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto a wraparound deck overlooking the lake. Furnished in colors reminiscent of the pine forest outside, the room managed to be elegant and comfortable at the same time. Tucking her legs under her, Laurie curled into one corner of a big, comfortable sofa.

“Are you warm enough now?”

She nodded. His sweater had done the trick. And it smelled delicious. Some sort of expensive cologne lingered in its folds. A woodsy, musky, peppery evocative scent that suited him perfectly. Because, my God, he was a stunning-looking man. Get a grip, Laurie. You knew that before you came here. It had all been in that file. No matter how hard she had tried to keep things businesslike during her research, her eyes had developed a tendency to linger a little too long over his photograph. Much in the way his gaze kept straying to her face right now. That was hardly surprising. As far as he was concerned, she was a dead woman come to life.

“You said you’re here on vacation. What job do you do?”

Keep it as close to the truth as possible. That was so important in this line of work. Like her name. If she strayed into an elaborate charade, it became too easy to slip up and get it wrong. “I’m an artist.” The freelance work she did in her spare time was a hobby rather than a career, but it had always worked well as a cover story.

His raised brows told her she’d hit a nerve. Architect. Artist. She supposed it was close enough to hurt. “Will I have seen your work?”

“Probably not. I illustrate children’s books.”

“You must be good to make a living from it.” Was this the interrogation? So soon?

Before she could respond, footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor and a voice called out, “Cam? That consignment from Pinedale...”

The man who entered the room had to be related to Cameron. The family resemblance was too strong for it to be otherwise. Mentally, Laurie reviewed the contents of the file. There was an older half brother, Vincente, and a younger brother, Bryce. Both men worked for Delaney Transportation. Assessing this man’s age in comparison with Cameron and recalling the family photographs, Laurie figured she was looking at Bryce Delaney. Her memory for detail kicked in. Twenty-eight years old. Two years younger than Cameron. An injury in Afghanistan had brought an abrupt end to a promising army career.

Whoever he was, the man stopped speaking, breaking off in midsentence when he saw Laurie, his jaw dropping in an almost comical expression of surprise. His gaze swiveled from her to Cameron and back again.

“C-Carla?”

Cameron’s eyes seemed to flash a warning message. “Bryce, this is Laurie Carter. Laurie, meet my reprobate brother.”

She smiled at Bryce, who was still gazing at her in shock. “Nice to meet you. But I can’t help thinking you mistook me for someone else.”

He ran a hand through his hair in a helpless gesture. “You look just like someone we used to know.” He cast a glance in Cameron’s direction and encountered a frown like thunder. “Sorry, but you must admit it’s uncanny. You know what? I’ve just remembered something I need to do. The Pinedale stuff can keep. Nice to meet you, Laurie.”

When he’d gone, Laurie turned to Cameron. “What was that all about?”

Knowing that, if she played her part successfully, he’d have to confront the Carla issue sooner or later—probably sooner—she’d rehearsed this conversation. It was a strange job. One that relied on her ability to play a part 24/7, while those around her had no idea of their roles. Improvisation and fast thinking, those skills were the key to survival.

Cameron rose to his feet and went to the desk that stood in a corner of the room. It looked out over the lake, and Laurie thought what a wonderful place it would be to work. Or maybe not. Maybe that view would distract from doing anything productive. Opening one of the drawers, Cameron withdrew a framed photograph. He brought it over to Laurie and, sitting next to her on the sofa, held it out.

This is it. How you react now is everything. Aware of Cameron’s eyes on her face, she took the photograph and scanned it. Although she had seen Carla Bryan’s picture many times, the resemblance still took her by surprise. She has my face. We could have been twins instead of cousins. She didn’t have to fake the widening of her eyes or the sharp intake of her breath.

“Who is this?” She raised her gaze to his face.

“Her name is Carla. She is—was—the love of my life.”

“Was?” Suddenly, Laurie wasn’t playing a part. All she was doing was reacting to the raw grief in those incredible dark eyes.

“Carla died a year ago.”

“Oh, my Lord. I’m so sorry.” Without thinking, she reached out a hand and placed it on his knee. “How did she die?”

Cameron covered her hand with his. A warm tingle of electricity spiraled from the point of his touch through to her every nerve ending. Careful, Laurie. You know feelings are not allowed in this line of work.

“I killed her.”

* * *

The lower reaches of the Stillwater Trail were popular with tourists. Higher up was for serious hikers and hunters. Starting out at the river’s edge, it wound inland and upward until it reached the highest point in the county, the treacherous climb known as Devil’s Peak. Aware she would be gone for much of the day, Laurie set out early, throwing a few snacks into her backpack before she left the rented cabin that sat just at the edge of the pine forest.

Although her mother had lived in this state for only a few years, her short married life had been happy and she’d had fond memories of her time in Wyoming. Laurie’s childhood had been filled with stories of the beauty of Stillwater. Laurie herself had always planned to visit one day. How strange it should have happened this way. She locked the cabin door. Not that there was anything inside that would give her away. She was too professional to compromise her personal safety.

If anything, her mother’s enthusiastic praise had understated the wild perfection of this place. The air filling her lungs was crisp, clean and plentiful. Which was just as well, because the scenery really did steal your breath from you. Tucked away on the northernmost edge of the state, bordering Yellowstone National Park, West County was still largely undiscovered by tourists. It shared the grandeur and wildlife of its well-known neighbor without attracting the same sort of fame.

The trail started out deceptively flat, and Laurie had time to admire the emerald green of the gigantic trees rising on either side of her, the azure blue of the sky together with the sound of the sparkling stream tumbling alongside the path. After a few hours, she was breathing hard as the gradient increased and, by the time she reached the mountain-encircled body of water known as Wilderness Lake, she was glad of the chance to shrug off her backpack, sit on a rock and take a long slug of water.

She had been there for about ten minutes, drinking in the rugged drama of the granite landscape, when another walker came into view. Although the man wore shorts and hiking boots, he looked as though he would be more comfortable in a business suit. As he got closer, Laurie noticed the sheen of sweat on his face and bit back a smile. Special Agent Moreton had been her partner in a lengthy undercover operation and she knew him well. Even so, if she hadn’t seen him in the outdoors with her own eyes she’d have continued in her belief that he was allergic to fresh air.

Moreton carried a map, and as he approached Laurie, he held it out to her, pointing to a spot on it. Anyone observing them would assume he was one hiker asking another a question about the trail. “Were you followed?”

“I don’t think so.” She bent her head over the map. “That doesn’t mean we’re not being watched through binoculars right now, of course.”

He followed her lead, covering his mouth with one hand as he spoke. “Lipreading? You think Delaney could be suspicious of you already?”

Laurie shrugged. “If he’s who we think he is, he’ll take good care to protect himself.”

“How did he react when he saw you?”

She shot him a sideways glance. “How do you think?”

“Did he mention Carla?”

She nodded, making a pretense of turning the map and looking up at the surrounding mountains. Anything to buy a little time. When she bowed her head again, her voice was quiet. “He said he killed her.”

“That’s what he told police at the time. It was the grief talking. What he meant, of course, was that he failed to stop her from taking her boat out that night.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Moreton looked startled. “You don’t mean...? No, he was at a state function in full view of hundreds of people when she died. Mayor Delaney was the keynote speaker.”

“If Cameron Delaney is all the things you tell me he is, would he think twice about getting someone else to kill his girlfriend?”

His round face became even more serious. “If you want out, you only have to say the word.”

“You know me better than that, Moreton. When you approached me with this job, I knew what it involved. I’ll see it through. I guess if I’m having dinner with a guy I’d like to know in advance if there’s a chance he might have killed his last girlfriend.”

“Dinner? Tonight?” When she nodded, he whistled. “He’s a fast worker, our guy. How will you deal with it if he wants to...” He cleared his throat. “...You know?”

“You mean if he wants to have sex with me?” She almost laughed aloud at his pained expression. “I’ve done this sort of thing before, remember?”

“I seem to recall you have a few creative ways of keeping them at arm’s length. So, now you’ve met him, what are your initial thoughts on Delaney?”

Laurie hesitated. First impressions were important, and she knew Moreton was asking her because he trusted her instincts. For the first time ever, she wasn’t sure he was right to do so.

“You know I had my doubts about this job. Using a man’s grief to get under his skin? That has never felt right to me. It was only when you showed me the file about what was going on here—what Delaney Transportation is potentially a cover for—that you convinced me. The evidence against him is about as watertight as it gets.” She spread her hands, palms upward. To an observer, she could have been indicating she was clueless about the route. “Initial thoughts? The file you compiled told me he’s one of the wealthiest men in the state. Each of the three Delaney brothers inherited a modest amount of money from their father. Cameron used his to set up the business, growing it into a thriving corporation within a few years. He’s also a successful businessman and politician. Mayor of Stillwater. The voters love him. He’d get my vote and I don’t even know what he stands for. The guy’s got charisma. Underneath it all he’s hurting like hell. Even when I rocked his world yesterday, the facade stayed in place. I’d say he’s going to be a tough one to crack.”

“If anyone can do it, you can. Delaney is one of the smoothest operators we’ve come across. On the surface, he’s squeaky clean. He’s never had a parking ticket, or filed a late tax return. We have to throw him off balance. The psychologists tell me Delaney will be drawn to someone who looks so much like Carla. He was devoted to her. You’ll shake him out of his usual composure. When he’s with you he may just slip up, make a mistake, however small, and allow you to get close enough to glimpse the illegal side of the business. It’s a long shot, but it’s all we have right now. I want to close this bastard down, but so far every attempt we’ve made to get someone undercover inside the firm itself has failed. This operation has been going on for a long time, but it’s only recently we’ve had the evidence to pinpoint Delaney Transportation.”

“Possibly he’s started to slip up. There’s no doubt that Carla’s death devastated him.”

Was Moreton frowning because he sensed sympathy in her voice? Even imagining he could detect a moment’s hesitation? “Every time that bothers you, think about the drugs and firearms that are pumped onto the streets every day. And we both know that’s not the worst part of this operation. Human trafficking. Forced prostitution. A nasty, but very lucrative, business. Many of the girls we’re talking about are as young as thirteen. Some are younger. If ever you find yourself feeling sorry for Delaney, think of them.”

Laurie felt a flash of anger light her eyes as she raised them to his face. “Are you questioning my commitment?”

“Never.” Still in his role as the hapless hiker, Moreton folded his map and turned, shrugging as he pointed back at the trail. “Anything you need from me?” Laurie shook her head. “Next time, maybe we can find somewhere civilized like a coffee shop?”

After he’d gone, Laurie sat a while longer, allowing the peace of her surroundings to soothe her. In six years of working undercover, she had never let her emotions get to her. For a moment back then, she had come perilously close. Why was it so hard to be objective about Cameron Delaney? From the outset, she’d allowed emotion to creep in. It must be the Carla factor. It was hard not to feel a connection to the other woman when she had recently discovered their relationship. The cousin she never knew she had. And Carla had died tragically. Just when she had everything to live for. Sighing, Laurie rose and tugged her backpack into place. She’d have to work a bit harder to fight the feelings in the future. There was a job to be done. Starting with dinner tonight.

Chapter 2

Cameron gripped the steering wheel hard. What was he doing? What had possessed him to invite her to dinner? You know what it was, a voice inside his head chimed instantly. You idiot. Carla is dead. This woman is not her. Perhaps if he repeated those words often enough, his heart would stop pounding so loudly every time he thought about Laurie Carter.

Twelve months ago, he would have said his heart couldn’t pound. If anyone had asked him such a stupid question, he’d have explained it wasn’t possible for his heart to do anything. Because the night Carla died, Cameron had been left with a gaping hole in place of a heart. So he supposed the fact he could feel something in the region of his chest in place of the awful, aching heaviness that had been there for the last year was a positive step. He just wasn’t sure it should be focused on this stranger who reminded him of Carla. Reminded him? He almost laughed out loud at the understatement. Laurie Carter was Carla’s double. The resemblance was uncanny enough to be scary. It was frightening the hell out of Cameron. In a spine-chilling yet surprisingly exciting way.

He steered the car up the narrow track that led to the Paradise Creek vacation village. A group of twenty or more log cabins clustered together at the base of the mountain like children clinging to their mother’s skirts. More and more of these places were springing up each year as people were discovering that Stillwater had as much to offer as Yellowstone. Some, like this one, were tastefully done and well managed, but there were a few eyesores that caused Cameron and his fellow council members an ongoing headache.

Cameron took his role as mayor seriously. Having been Stillwater’s youngest-ever council member at twenty-four and its youngest-ever mayor at twenty-six, he never forgot his duty to the community where he grew up. His four-year term of office was coming to an end, but, in the words of the local radio station, “There’s more chance of the Wyoming wind forgetting to blow than there is of Mayor Delaney not getting reelected.” That validation would allow him to continue the projects he had already started. Closing down cheap tourist traps was on his list.

Leaving his car in the little parking lot at the end of the road, Cameron walked a few yards to the first cabin and knocked on the door.

“It’s open. Come on in.”

She doesn’t sound like Carla. The thought steadied him, and he stepped straight into the open-plan living space. The place was furnished in traditional vacation-rental style. Polished pine paneling, exposed brickwork and functional furniture had been softened with colorful rugs, cushions and subdued lighting. As Cameron was taking in his surroundings, a door to his left opened and Laurie appeared.

On the drive over he had done his best to convince himself the likeness was not as strong as he remembered. It couldn’t be. Unless they were identical twins, two people couldn’t possibly look that alike. He’d done a pretty good job of persuading himself. Now she stood before him, a smile just beginning to light the blue depths of her eyes, and his internal lecture became so much meaningless white noise.

Laurie wore tight black jeans, heels and a gray silk blouse. Her hair, which had been wet and bedraggled when he last saw her, was styled now, the chestnut waves falling loose to just below her shoulders. She favored a less-groomed style than Carla, with only minimal makeup and jewelry. Even so, he was stunned all over again at the sight of her.

“I didn’t know where we were going. I hope this is okay?”

Aware some sort of response was required, he coaxed his facial muscles so he was able to return the smile. The effort was painful. “You look amazing. And we’re going to my favorite restaurant, Dino’s.”

And what will Dino—one of my oldest friends—say when I walk in with Carla’s double on my arm? Will he ask me if I’ve lost my mind? Tell me I can’t turn the clock back? Point out what I already know, that just because she looks like her, it would be unfair to expect Laurie to become some sort of Carla substitute?

“Is everything okay?” The smile in her eyes had faded and was on the verge of becoming a frown.

“Everything is fine.” The lie came easily. Despite his misgivings, he wanted to know more about this woman who had the face of his lost love. “Shall we go?”

It was a short drive from the cabin into town, and Cameron was reminded again of the little things he’d lost when Carla died. Companionable silence and the subtle perfume of a beautiful woman were two of them. They were approaching the main street when Laurie shifted slightly in her seat. He got the impression of her bracing herself before she spoke.

“Why did you ask me out tonight?”

Cameron drew into a parking space in front of Dino’s and switched the engine off before he answered. He supposed he should have anticipated the question. “You intrigue me and I’d like to get to know you better.” Honest, but only a fraction of a complicated answer.

“Because I look like Carla?”

He liked the directness of her approach. It meant he could be equally blunt in return. “I’d be lying if I told you that wasn’t a big part of it.”

Cameron turned to face her. For a moment something shimmered in the dark space between them. Something that had nothing to do with Carla. He wanted to reach out and grab it, hold on to it, welcome it as the first sign of life going on. In twelve long, empty months, he hadn’t once dared let himself believe he could ever feel anything for another woman. Hadn’t wanted to. It felt like the ultimate betrayal. Now, like a fragile candle flame in the darkness, there was an unexpected flicker. He wanted to cup his hands around it and shield it. He wasn’t sure what it meant. If it meant anything. Wasn’t sure he wanted it to mean anything. All he knew was emotions, even conflicting and confusing ones, were better than hollow, gut-wrenching emptiness.

Before he could do or say anything, Laurie smiled. “I’m starved. I hope this place does a good steak.”

* * *

When your job meant you were constantly playing a part, you had to be prepared for any eventuality. Walking into a busy, brightly lit restaurant and having the whole place fall instantly silent was a new experience. It was one Laurie hadn’t been prepared for. In hindsight, she should have anticipated it. Every eye followed their progress as the hostess escorted them to a table at the rear of the room. Cameron nodded and smiled at a few people, apparently at ease with the situation even though she suspected he wasn’t. He’s a politician; he’s used to the limelight. Even so, this is bizarre. Do they actually think I might be Carla? That she didn’t die on the lake that night after all? She faked her death and has staged a comeback? Or I’m her ghost following in Cameron’s wake and he hasn’t noticed me? That last thought made her choke back a nervous snort of laughter.

Curious stares continued to be directed their way, even once they’d taken their seats. There was no way she could not comment. “So that was fun.”

“I’m sorry. Is this too weird for you?”

Those dark eyes were achingly intense, and once again she experienced a pang of guilt. No matter who he was, or what he had done, this man was grieving. If her mission was successful and ended in his arrest and conviction, would Laurie feel proud of her part in his undoing? She didn’t want to explore that question any further. She had a feeling she wouldn’t like the answer. “Just doing my job” didn’t always cut it. Not in response to her own conscience.

“I was thinking more of you. This—” she outlined her own face with a circular motion of one finger “—must be painful for you.”

“Not really. I’ll admit it was a shock when I first saw you, especially when you emerged from the lake...” Laurie winced. Her plan had been to get his attention. She hadn’t thought about the impact on Cameron of her wading out of the very waters where Carla had died in a boating accident. Take his breath away? You were lucky he didn’t have a heart attack. One more reason for her to lie awake tonight questioning her own integrity. “Now? The resemblance still jolts me, but, believe it or not, I am able to convince myself you are not her.”

His smile nearly undid her resolve to keep a grip on her emotions. You can’t trust this man. Every piece of intelligence points to him being the mastermind of one of the most repulsive operations we’ve seen in a long time. That was what she had told herself as she read his file and studied his drop-dead-sexy photographs. Face-to-face, it didn’t help. One look from those dark eyes and her insides melted.

“Delaney!” A booming voice interrupted her thoughts and made Cameron roll his eyes. “Who let you into my place while my back was turned?”

“You are about to meet Dino. He delights in living up to his reputation for being larger than life. My advice is to roll with it.”

The man who approached their table was of average build, but his personality filled the room. His sharp eyes skimmed Laurie’s face before coming to rest on Cameron’s countenance. She got the impression some sort of silent communication took place between them, as though Dino was reassuring himself his friend was okay, before he spoke again.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“Dino, this is Laurie Carter. She’s here on vacation, and yes, she looks like Carla.”

Dino made a pretense of mopping his brow. “I’m glad you mentioned that. Otherwise I’d have spent the whole night wondering if you’d noticed.” He winked at Laurie. “You do know every single person in this place is talking about you, don’t you?”

She groaned. “Is it that bad?”

“It would have happened anyway because you look so much like her.” She decided she liked Dino, liked his bluntness and his warm smile. “Put you together with our esteemed mayor here and you’ve given our little community the best bit of gossip it’s had since—” he scratched his head “—well, I can’t remember anything this exciting. Maybe the last time was when Sarah Milligan’s daughter took off with that no-good, out-of-town boyfriend of hers. Remember that? We talked about it for weeks.”

“You talked about it for weeks,” Cameron corrected him. “I had other things on my mind.”

“That’s right. It was only about six weeks after Carla died, wasn’t it?” Unabashed, Dino nodded agreement with his own question. “So, what are you guys eating?”

“We haven’t decided. Some moron interrupted us before we had a chance to look at the menu.”

Ignoring Cameron’s deliberate rudeness, Dino grinned at Laurie. “I recommend the steak. And maybe a different companion.” With a wave of his hand, he was gone, pausing to talk to various diners as he made his way back to the kitchen.

“I like him.” Laurie smiled as she opened her menu.

“So do I, but don’t tell him. His ego is big enough already.”

She studied the food choices while taking in her surroundings. Stillwater was the county seat. The most densely peopled town in a sparsely inhabited county in the least-populated state in America was still going to be classed as a small town by anyone’s standards. Her internet searches had shown her a picturesque place, cradled by mountains, largely untouched by time, reveling in its own Western charm. A website had gone on to expand on how this town was home to cowboy history, an immense outdoor playground, with fine Western dining and friendly faces. It looked like Dino had tried to capture all of that in his restaurant. It worked. The place had a homey, easy feel, and judging by the number of diners, the food must be good, as well.

They ordered steaks, and once the waiter had brought beer for Cameron and soda for Laurie, she decided to kick things up a notch. “Tell me, how do you find time to be mayor and also run a business?”

“I don’t sleep.” His face remained expressionless for a few seconds, then he grinned. “Seriously? I founded the company with the money my father left me. I’m the person who built it up from nothing, put the hours in to make it a success. I’m still the CEO. But these days my role is strategic, not hands-on. I pay other people, namely my two brothers, to do the day-to-day stuff. Politics is pretty full on.” He waved a hand, encompassing the restaurant. “You see quaint, laid-back and charming? You wouldn’t believe what goes on beneath the surface.”

“So your brothers actually run the company?” This was an interesting piece of information. One that hadn’t been obvious from the file. This was why it was so important to get someone in here on the ground. But don’t clutch at straws. What he’s telling you doesn’t let him off the hook. He’s still the one in overall charge.

“Bryce, who you met briefly, takes care of operations. My older brother, Vincente, is the money man—”

“Did I hear my name being taken in vain?”

Two men had approached the table without them being aware of it. The one who spoke was dark, but that was the only resemblance between the two brothers. Vincente Delaney was tall with a strong, sinewy build, his looks reflecting his Italian mother’s heritage. In any other company, his proud features, neatly trimmed beard and olive skin would have been considered handsome. In comparison with Cameron, Laurie decided he didn’t quite match up.

“Is the whole town in here tonight?” There was a trace of a groan in Cameron’s voice.

“Is this Dino’s and is it Saturday? If so, you’ve answered your own question by coming here.” Laurie’s attention was drawn to Vincente’s companion, a man whose voice rumbled out his reply. She had heard the expression “a bear of a man” without having seen anyone who embodied what it meant until now. This man was huge, blond and imposing.

“Laurie, I guess more introductions are required. As you may have gathered, this is my brother Vincente. And this is Grant Becker.”

Laurie studied Grant with interest, and found her gaze being returned by a pair of intense blue eyes. There was curiosity and something deeper in that light gaze. He didn’t seem the type to be strongly influenced by her resemblance to Carla, but there was no doubt it had affected him. Then he roused himself and smiled. It was a boyish, charming expression.

The pictures she had seen didn’t do him justice. In the flesh the sheriff of West County was younger and better-looking than his online image, although she could hardly tell him so. Moreton had informed her that the local police, both the city police department and the county sheriff’s office, remained unaware of the federal presence in Stillwater. It had struck Laurie as a strange move not to involve the local police in the undercover operation. Moreton had explained there were two reasons for the decision. The first was what Moreton described as the “sensitive and unidentified operational radius,” by which she assumed he meant there was no way of knowing how widespread the trafficking might be, or how many people might be involved. Secondly, and perhaps more important, Cameron Delaney and Grant Becker had been friends since first grade.

“When Bryce told me you looked like Carla, I thought he was exaggerating.” Vincente was speaking, and Laurie turned her attention back to him. “I see now he wasn’t.”

Laurie wasn’t sure she liked the way Vincente’s eyes assessed her. Maybe he was being protective of his brother. Cameron had been badly hurt when Carla died, after all. Possibly his judgment of a woman who looked so much like her might be impaired. Also, Cameron was a very wealthy man. For all Vincente knew, Laurie could be a gold digger out to manipulate his brother and take him for all she could get. Even so, those eyes bothered her. They seemed to look right through her.

Grant Becker, on the other hand, had an open, honest expression that invited trust. Having stared long and hard at Laurie, he turned back to Cameron with a slight smile. “I’m guessing you’d like us to leave you in peace?”

Cameron returned the other man’s expression with relief. “You guessed right.”

Vincente looked as though he might like to protest at this arrangement, but Grant slung an arm around his shoulders, forcing him to walk away with him. “Nice meeting you, Laurie. Enjoy your evening.”

When they’d gone, Cameron turned to Laurie with an apologetic expression. “In this town everyone knows everyone else. It makes them think they have a right to intrude on your business.”

“I like it. It’s very different from what I’m used to.”

It wasn’t just something to say. She had been here only a few days, but she liked the feel of this town. It saddened her that she was here under false pretenses. What is this? This is what I do. I trap the bad guys. I can’t suddenly feel sentimental and regretful about it.

“Where exactly in California do you live?”

“San Diego.” It was true, even though she hadn’t been back there in what felt like forever. Lately it had been one undercover job after another. Home felt like something other people had.

The food arrived just in time for her to avoid any further details. While they ate, Laurie turned the talk to what she should see during her vacation. She was an expert at keeping the conversation away from herself. Unwilling to ask too many questions about his business this early in the relationship, she steered Cameron onto the other topic that interested her. She was surprised to find he was quite willing to talk about Carla.

“Can I ask why she was out on the lake at night?”

“Carla was a keen sailor. More than keen. It was her passion. She took part in competitions. She spent every spare minute practicing. The night she died, I was going to a function where I had to stay over. It was a foul night, and there was a storm brewing. She was determined to go out on the lake. There was a big, twenty-four-hour race coming up and she said her night vision was bothering her. I tried to persuade her not to go, to come with me instead.” A corner of his mouth creased in an expression of remembered frustration. “She wouldn’t listen. We argued. If I’d tried a bit harder, maybe stayed home with her...”

The compulsion to touch him was overwhelming. Reaching out, Laurie covered his hand with hers. “You couldn’t have known how it would turn out.”

He turned his hand so he could grip her fingers. “It means a lot, being able to talk about her. Other people tiptoe around me, thinking if they don’t mention her the pain might go away. Dino, as you may have noticed, is the only one who doesn’t.”

“What was she like?” Asking wasn’t just part of the job. She was curious about Carla the person. Carla her cousin.

He smiled. “Well, I think we’ve already established she was stubborn. She was also beautiful, clever, talented and witty. She used to tell me I was lucky to have her and I’d have to work hard every day to keep her.”

“Yet it sounds like she was as devoted to you as you were to her.”

“She was, but that last bit was true.” He tossed back the last of his beer. “Carla had many admirers, including a very persistent secret one.”

Laurie tilted her head on one side, considering that statement. “Persistent and secret don’t seem to go together.”

“Whoever he was, he used to send her an arrangement of red roses in the shape of a heart once a week. No message, no other gifts. Just the flowers.”

“That’s quite sweet, really.”

“Carla thought so, too. I thought it was creepy.” He laughed. “Maybe I was just being macho and possessive.”

“You were together a long time. Did you have any plans to get married?” It felt like an intrusive question, but he’d been open so far and she was curious about why, when he clearly loved Carla so much, they hadn’t made their relationship permanent. His face clouded slightly, and it was clear the question provoked a memory that made him uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Cameron shook his head. “It was the one subject on which we couldn’t agree. Yet it was such an important one. Looking back now, I wish—” He broke off, taking a moment to collect his emotions. “Carla didn’t want to stay in Wyoming, and I could never see myself living anywhere else. I wanted the whole fairy tale. Marriage, kids, big goofy dog, family life, all the things my own folks had. Carla wasn’t the maternal type. Her own childhood had been traumatic.” He hesitated, and she sensed this was a big part of who Carla was. Even though she had learned recently that she was related to Carla, she knew nothing about her early life. Clearly Cameron wasn’t ready to go into details. “We could never meet halfway on it. Now, in hindsight, I think if I’d done it her way, upped and left Stillwater, gone to live in a big city, she wouldn’t have been on the lake that night.”

His eyes were twin pools of anguish. There was a trace of guilt in his expression and something more. A plea for reassurance. Carla just went down a notch or two in Laurie’s estimation. Sure, cling to your independence. Stick to your principles. But at the risk of losing a man who loved you to distraction? A man like Cameron Delaney? No, Carla, I can’t understand where you were coming from. Mind you, her rational mind kicked in, let’s not forget we are talking about a likely criminal mastermind...even though Carla may not have known about that facet of his life.

“I’m a great believer in fate. I think there is a time and a place for everything and, while we control some aspects of our destiny, there are other things that are meant to be.” Her hand was still in his, and she clasped his fingers tighter. “You may never know what it was, but it’s possible there is a reason why Carla was meant to be on the lake that night.”

Cameron didn’t reply, but she thought some of the tension went out of his frame. Looking around, Laurie was amazed to see the restaurant was empty and they were the only ones left. A glance at her watch told her it was close to midnight. How had all those hours passed without her being conscious of them? Cameron settled their tab and escorted her out to the car.

When they reached the vacation village, Cameron walked Laurie to her cabin. This was always the tricky part. Make sure he wants to see you again without coming on too strong. For the first time ever, she felt a pang of regret at that necessity. It would be so easy to give in to her instincts right now and invite Cameron in for coffee. To explore where this attraction might take them. Instead, she rose on the tips of her toes, touched her fingertips to his shoulder and pressed a chaste kiss onto his cheek.

“Thank you for a lovely evening.” Determinedly, she ignored the insistent tingle that shimmered through to her nerve endings as her lips brushed his flesh. His delicious scent invaded her nostrils, and she resisted the temptation to press her face into the warm curve of his neck.

His face was in shadow, but she was aware of his eyes probing hers. “Can we do it again?” Somehow she sensed those words didn’t come easy. Cameron was fighting an internal battle. Whether he was winning or losing wasn’t clear.

“I’d like that.”

When he’d gone, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Years of training had conditioned her. She scrutinized the room, checking for signs that anything might be out of place. The cabin looked exactly as she’d left it. Except for one thing.

In the middle of the table there was a heart-shaped arrangement of dark red roses.

Chapter 3

The city of Cody, in neighboring Park County, looked a lot like the city of Stillwater. It had the same wide main street, historic buildings and backdrop of snow-capped mountains. Laurie parked the rental car and looked out at her surroundings, drawing in a deep breath to steady her nerves. In all her years of working undercover, she had never had to make emergency contact with her handler. She supposed there had to be a first time for everything. And these circumstances certainly were unusual. Grabbing the portfolio of pictures that were her cover story together with the paper bag in which she had concealed the flower arrangement, she locked up the car.

When she found the nondescript attorney’s office, she made her way up the steps at the side of the building to the second floor. Moreton, who was leaning back in his chair drinking coffee and reading a newspaper, looked startled when, after a brief knock, she walked into the tiny office he was using.

“Another ten minutes and I’d have been gone.” He indicated the clock on the wall. The arrangement was he would be there for two hours each day from 9 a.m. “How are you?”

“Exactly how did Carla die?” Laurie didn’t want to waste time on pleasantries.

“In a boating accident. You read the file.”

“That’s not what I meant. What was the specific injury that killed her?”

Moreton frowned. “It’s always been assumed she drowned.”

“Assumed? Did you actually read the autopsy report?”

“Laurie, sit down. Take a breath. What’s this all about?”

Instead of doing as he said, she produced the heart-shaped flower arrangement from the paper bag and placed it on his desk. His eyes remained on the flowers for a moment or two, before lifting to her face. His expression was blank. “That was left in my cabin while I was out last night.”

“Someone got into your cabin?” Moreton pulled a pad of paper toward him and flipped it over to a blank page. “Who else has a key?”

“We can check that out later. How they got in is not the most important thing.” Moreton waited for her to continue. “Cameron told me last night Carla had a secret admirer. Someone who sent her a heart-shaped arrangement of red roses every week.”

“And you think whoever sent it was the same person who sent these to you? And that he could have murdered Carla?” Moreton was scribbling notes, following her thought processes fast.

“You have to admit it’s a possibility.”

He remained quiet while he studied the flowers. Laurie knew that look. It meant his analytical mind was weighing every probability. But she caught a glimpse of something else in his expression. A glimmer of acute emotion that looked a lot like excitement. It was gone as soon as it appeared. And it puzzled her. Moreton didn’t do excitement. Didn’t really do emotion. Maybe it had been a long time since he’d come across such an interesting lead with the potential of opening up a whole new case.

“Okay. I agree it’s possible Carla Bryan had a stalker. There’s even a chance she was murdered by the person who was sending her these flowers, and her death was mistakenly written off as an accident. Let’s not rule anything out. The first thing I need to do is what you’ve asked, and double-check the coroner’s report. I’ll let you know the actual cause of Carla’s death.”

“We could also try to find out where these flowers came from and if any were sent to Carla from the same supplier.”

“We?” He raised a brow. “You can’t do any investigating. You are not Detective Bryan of the San Diego Police Department. She hasn’t been around for a while, remember? You are Laurie Carter, children’s storybook illustrator, here in Wyoming on vacation. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk.”

“Okay.” Laurie felt a blush tinge her cheeks. Moreton’s reminder put her firmly in her place. In this investigation, she was powerless. In reality, she didn’t exist. Even her name was fake. She actually was Amy Carter-Bryan. Her middle name was Laurie, and that was what her family called her. She was an undercover detective in the San Diego Police Department. Two years ago her department had worked alongside the FBI on a series of homicides. Laurie and Moreton had collaborated closely on that case.

When Moreton needed someone here in Wyoming to get close to Cameron Delaney, he had begun his research. Pictures of Carla had instantly made him think of the young San Diego detective he had worked with. Incredibly, further probing had unearthed the information that the two women were related. Moreton had approached Laurie’s chief with a request for her to be assigned to the Bureau for this case...and here she was.

Laurie felt obliged to ask the question that had been bothering her since the previous night. “Could Cameron Delaney be wary of me? He might have made up this whole story about the flowers as an elaborate way of scaring me off. He could have had someone plant these in my cabin, in which case, I’ve already blown the whole operation.”

Moreton considered the suggestion, his head on one side. “I checked your credentials before I recruited you. You’ve never aroused any distrust before. If Delaney wanted to get rid of you, the flowers seem like an elaborate way to do it. He doesn’t strike me as that kind of guy. But you tell me what you want to do. If you think Carla’s stalker is targeting you, or Delaney’s guard is up, don’t go back to Stillwater. Come in now.”

Laurie had been afraid of this, had actually considered not bringing the flowers to him in case he insisted on ending the operation immediately. At least he was offering her options. “Let’s not be hasty. You’ve been trying for a long time to get someone close to Delaney Transportation. I’m not there yet, but I’m the best you’ve got. I won’t take any chances with my personal safety.”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then he nodded. She got the feeling she’d given him the answer he wanted. Hell, she was having a lot of feelings today. Most of them uncomfortable. “Let’s meet again tomorrow morning. By that time, I’ll have had a chance to get the information we need. We’ll take it from there. In the meantime, you have your gun with you, right?”

“Of course I do.”

Having made arrangements to return to Moreton’s office the following day, Laurie headed back to her car. She was surprised and relieved Moreton had listened to her and, having done so, had not insisted on ending the operation there and then. It was a lack of caution that was out of character with what she knew of him, but then, what did she really know of Moreton? She didn’t even know his first name. Their interactions were limited to discussions of the case, and this one felt different from any other she’d been on. So different that she was tipped off balance. She had come here certain about her role, but now there was a possible new element to be considered that was throwing everything off-kilter.

She spent the drive back to Stillwater deep in thought, much of it going over the same ground she had covered the night before. She was already convinced Carla’s death was not an accident. But, if that was the case, who had killed her and why? The only person who seemed to be in the clear was Cameron. He had a watertight alibi for the night Carla died. Hundreds of people could vouch for his presence at the political function. He was the person who had told Laurie about Carla’s secret admirer and the flowers he sent her. And, unless he had an accomplice who had carried out the task on his behalf, he had been with Laurie last night and couldn’t have left the flowers in her cabin.

She was so preoccupied she had to slam on her brakes hard to avoid a truck as it pulled across the road in front of her and into the entrance to a concealed track. The black-painted trailer bore the words “Delaney Transportation” in bold red letters across its side. A timely reminder of the real reason why I’m here. Perhaps I should complain to Cameron about the carelessness of the driver? She pulled away again, watching the truck in her rearview mirror as it disappeared along the track. Away to her right, a hill shaped like an inverted funnel caught her eye, standing out stark and unusual against the surrounding flat landscape.

Laurie’s mother had talked to her about the openness of Wyoming. The vast tracts of unoccupied country through which you could drive and drive without seeing another vehicle. Towns with their population only just creeping into double figures, spread so far apart it took forever to get from one to the other. Scenery so beautiful it hurt your heart to look at it. Traditional ranches stretching beyond the horizon in every direction. Maybe her mother had instilled a love of this land into Laurie with her stories, but it pulled at her. It was a raw, powerful, unexpected feeling, unlike anything she had experienced for any other place.

On her arrival in Stillwater, Laurie stopped for groceries. Pulling up in front of the general store, Milligan’s, she tried to recall where she had heard the name mentioned. With her finely tuned memory for detail she recalled Dino saying something about a girl called Milligan running off with an unsuitable boyfriend. Small-town life.

Laurie supposed it was like having an extended family. It was a complete contrast to her own life. She had grown up without a father and was only discovering now that she had a cousin. Who knew how many other family members she had that she was unaware of? For her whole life, it had just been her and her mom. Because she hadn’t known any differently, she had accepted their lack of family and close friends as normal. She knew, of course, that her fierce independence and determination not to rely on others stemmed from that isolation. Now, for the first time, she thought it must be kind of comforting to think everyone knew your name and watched out for you.

Laurie was the only customer, and she selected her few purchases, making her way to the single checkout. The woman behind the counter put aside the magazine she had been reading and greeted her with a listless gaze. Laurie’s eyes were drawn to the poster at the side of the checkout. It was a photograph of a pretty, smiling girl with blue eyes and long dark hair. Emblazoned across the top in bold font were the words “Have you seen this girl?” Below, in smaller lettering, were details of when and where Deanna Milligan was last seen, a plea for her to contact her mom and a cell phone number. Laurie had glimpsed a few similar posters around town, but this was the first time she had seen one up close.

An icy little worm wound its way up Laurie’s spine as she studied the picture. Although Deanna Milligan was much younger than Carla, they both had the same coloring and there were some similarities about their delicate features.

“I’m so sorry.” She nodded to the poster while the woman continued to scan her purchases. There was enough of a resemblance between this woman and the girl in the picture for Laurie to make the assumption that this was Deanna’s mom. What had Dino said her name was? Sarah Milligan, that was it.

Sarah’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “It’s the not knowing that’s so hard, you know? If she’d just get in touch, tell me where she is. I don’t understand why it had to be like this.” She withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose into it. “I mean, I didn’t like the guy she was seeing—thought he was too old for her—but running away with him? We could have worked it out.”

“So you met her boyfriend?” That didn’t fit the same secret-admirer approach as Carla. Maybe Laurie was seeing connections where none existed. Lots of girls had blue eyes and dark hair. She did herself. Things are complicated enough. Don’t go trying to make them worse.

“Once or twice. As I said, I didn’t like him. He wasn’t from around here. His name was Xavier.” Sarah spat the name out as though it was an insult. “Xavier-Quentin Fontaine. He made a big deal of making sure he used his full name. Sounds kinda French, doesn’t it? He was a charmer. All that blond hair and those baby blue eyes. Flashing his big, charming smile at every woman who came his way. Deanna was smitten. She even started lying to me. Told me she wasn’t seeing him anymore, that he’d left town. But I knew it wasn’t true. Why, he was still sending her those flowers, even though she tried to tell me they were from a secret admirer—”

“Flowers?” Laurie couldn’t help herself. She interrupted the other woman’s flow, her voice a staccato exclamation.

“Every week. Right up until the day she left home.” Laurie’s heart gave a sickening thud as she anticipated Sarah’s next words. “Fancy dark red roses in the shape of a heart.”

* * *

“Laurie!” Cameron caught up to her as she reached her car at the front of the store. “You were lost in your own world. I’ve called your name twice already.”

She turned her head, a half smile piercing her distracted expression. “Pardon?”

“Hey, are you okay?” He scanned her face, amazed at how he could have become so attuned to this woman’s moods in such a short space of time. The slight crease between those glorious blue eyes told him something was bothering her. He wanted to reach out a fingertip and smooth it away.

He had spent the previous night tossing and turning and lecturing himself on the foolishness of getting too close too fast. Getting close at all, never mind the timescales. His brain had given his body a lecture. It was choosing the familiar. Latching on to Laurie because it was easy. If he’d passed her in the street, she’d have turned his head. The fact she’d fallen unconscious into his arms had thrust her remarkable similarity to Carla right under his nose. Fate had given his sex drive a wake-up call. Her presence had acted like an injection of a performance-enhancing drug directly into his previously dormant sexual urges. It was all wrong. You want her because of how she looks, not for who she is. No woman deserves that. That was how his speech to himself had gone last night. Now she was before him again in person, and every sensible, reasonable word flew out of his head again. His body took over, shutting his brain down.

Laurie attempted a smile in response to his question. On anyone else it might have worked. Because, in the short time he’d known her, Cameron had become an expert on her expressions; he wasn’t fooled.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just talking to the store owner—” she waved a hand toward Milligan’s “—and she told me about her daughter. I guess I felt bad for her.”

He still wasn’t convinced by her reply, but he let it pass. He’d known Laurie Carter for twenty-four hours. It didn’t exactly give him the right to worry about her. Hard on the heels of that thought came a question. Does that mean I want to worry about her? Last night he hadn’t thought beyond the physical wanting. Maybe he should just put any thinking about Laurie aside for another time. Along with the urgent desire he had to draw her into his arms and kiss away that worried look.

“It was a bad business. Sarah was widowed when Deanna was a baby. She devoted her life to her daughter, but they struggled. Making ends meet was always hard, and Deanna had a few problems as she was growing up. She went off the rails when she was in her teens. Now Deanna is gone, Sarah has no one. Loneliness and stress have taken its toll on her well-being.”

“That’s obvious from the way she talks.”

Laurie opened the trunk of her car and shifted a large artist’s portfolio case to one side so she could place her groceries inside. As he helped her with the groceries, Cameron eyed the portfolio in surprise. “I thought you were on vacation.”

“You should try telling my agent about that.” She rolled her eyes. “To be fair, I decided on this vacation after I agreed to a deadline.”

“Tell me you’re not working so hard you can’t join me for dinner tonight?” The words were out before he could stop them. What happened to sensible? He’d convinced himself the logical thing would be to not ask her on the second date he’d mentioned as they parted last night. Now he was practically holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

“That would be nice.”

Cameron watched as she drove away. It was probably a good thing Laurie was only here on vacation. The feelings he was developing toward her were threatening to become fairly explosive. And, while he welcomed the signs he was able to feel again, he wasn’t sure he was ready for another relationship. Particularly with someone who looked so much like Carla. He knew what other people would say.

My God, I’d say it myself if I was on the outside looking in! You are still grieving. Looking for a substitute. Yes, it’s time to move on. Just make sure you get it right. If the time is right—and it seems it is—find a short, plump blonde who bears no resemblance to Carla. Start with friendship and fun. This fierce, burning intensity can’t be the right way to go.

Now Laurie had gone, his head was back in control. He knew she wasn’t Carla. Apart from her looks, she was nothing like her. Sometime during that meal at Dino’s last night—he wasn’t quite sure when or how it had happened—he’d stopped thinking about her as the-girl-who-looked-like-Carla and started to think of her as Laurie. And he liked Laurie. A lot. Too much for his own comfort. And that bothered him almost as much as all the other stuff.

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He swung around to face Bryce’s laughing features. “You planning on standing there all day gazing into space? Because, if not, you can buy me a coffee.”

“How come I get to do the buying?” Cameron asked as they crossed the road to The Daily Grind coffee shop.

“Why change the habit of a lifetime?” Bryce leaned on the counter as Cameron ordered. “Anyway, you owe me.”

“Vincente?” They took their drinks over to a table near the window.

“Who else?”

“What’s he done now?”

Bryce’s expression was long suffering. “Poking his nose in where it’s not wanted. When you divided up the responsibilities between us, it was clear I was to take charge of operations. Yet he insists on interfering with the distribution routes and driver’s schedules. As soon as I have them organized for the week ahead, I find out he’s changed things.”

“Why would he do that?” Cameron dragged his mind away from thoughts of Laurie and onto what Bryce was telling him with an effort. Vincente was always difficult. When they were growing up, he had always been conscious of his status as a half brother and jealous of the closeness between Cameron and Bryce. Their mother had done her best to make him feel included, but Vincente had resented Sandy Delaney. He insisted on seeing her as the woman who had usurped his mother’s place, even though his parents had been divorced for more than a year when Kane Delaney remarried. And despite the fact Giovanna Alberti—Vincente’s Italian mother had reverted to her maiden name as soon as the divorce papers were finalized—couldn’t wait to return to her home in Florence, declaring the wide-open spaces and sparse population of Wyoming stifled her spirit.

Cameron guessed that deep down Vincente blamed his father for Giovanna’s abandonment and that unhappiness had manifested itself as bitterness. It wasn’t the sort of conversation he could ever have with his half brother. They didn’t have a close enough relationship, but he sometimes wondered if Vincente recognized those emotions and regretted all those sour, wasted years.

Bryce shrugged. “You know what he’s like. He can’t help himself. How would he like it if I went into his office and started altering the company accounts?”

Cameron stifled a sigh. “You want me to speak to him?” Vincente had always been jealous of Cameron, labeling his brother their father’s favorite, and blaming Cameron for his own failings. Despite this, Cameron was the only person his stubborn, hotheaded older brother had ever listened to.

“Would you?” The frown cleared from Bryce’s brow.

“I’ll stop by the office tomorrow morning.”

* * *

While she was undercover, Laurie steered clear of the internet. Even when she wasn’t working, she adhered to a strict code of conduct. She was scrupulously careful and never did anything that left a trail. On this job, she had an encrypted laptop that she used to keep in touch with Moreton and Mike Samuels, Moreton’s boss and her only other FBI contact. Moreton assured her the security on her laptop was cast-iron. No one would be able to trace her, and only someone with specialist skills would be able to get through the firewall. Laurie powered the machine up now, tapping an impatient finger as she waited for it to start.

Xavier-Quentin Fontaine. It was hardly a common name. If Deanna Milligan was with him, it should be fairly easy to find out. Laurie started with Deanna’s social media accounts. Chillingly, they hadn’t been touched since she went missing. It could mean she didn’t want to be found, of course. But, prior to her disappearance, Deanna had been very active online, documenting every detail of her daily life from what she had for breakfast to pictures each time she changed her nail polish. It was most unusual for people to alter their habits so dramatically. And Deanna had been close to her friends and family. Even though Sarah had disliked Xavier-Quentin, there was no real reason for Deanna to completely lose touch with her mother. And it seemed odd she wouldn’t keep in touch with other people she knew.

So, on to the man himself. Laurie did an internet search for Xavier-Quentin Fontaine. What she found was even more disturbing than Deanna’s online silence. Because, if she had the right man, Xavier-Quentin had been killed in a road traffic accident in Montana two weeks before Deanna disappeared. Deanna wouldn’t have known about his death at the time she went missing because Xavier-Quentin—if it was him—had been so badly disfigured in the smash it took the authorities another week to identify him.

With a sinking feeling in her gut, Laurie studied the newspaper report that confirmed the victim’s identity. The photograph alongside the report showed a handsome, blue-eyed, blond-haired man with a charming smile. Sarah’s words came back to her. Flashing that smile... Of course Deanna could have gone looking for Xavier-Quentin, discovered he was dead and been too embarrassed to return. It seemed a far-fetched scenario.

It seemed more likely that Deanna had not left Stillwater in search of Xavier-Quentin. Sarah Milligan had assumed that he was the one sending Deanna the flowers, but he was already dead when the last arrangements were sent. Which prompted a new set of questions. Who was sending the flowers? And what did happen to Deanna Milligan?

If Laurie’s instincts were right—dear God, let me not be right—and Carla and Deanna had been stalked and then murdered by the same man, the secret admirer who sent them flowers, was it possible they were not the only ones? If the link between the two of them had been missed, it was entirely possible other connections had been overlooked. How many other local women had been sent a heart-shaped arrangement of dark red roses?

Heart pounding, Laurie started another internet search right there. Heart-shaped arrangement of dark red roses. The typed words produced a surprising variety of images. None of them looked like the ones that had been left in her cabin. None of them tied into any of the local florists listed on her laptop screen.

Picking up her cell phone, she started calling the flower stores. Her questions were the same for each. A friend of hers had been sent a heart-shaped arrangement of red roses that she’d loved. As a surprise gift she wanted to send the same arrangement, but she wasn’t sure where it had come from. Yes, the same arrangement every week. No? Okay, thanks for your time. Her calls were hampered by an annoyingly intermittent phone signal. It hadn’t happened before, and it was just typical that her cell phone connection should keep cutting out now when she was in the middle of these important calls.

None of the florists had made up the arrangement Carla had received. No one seemed to be commenting on social media about how strange it was they were receiving heart-shaped roses from a secret admirer. She didn’t know what to make of that result. Good news? That sixth sense she’d developed over years of doing this job told her it wasn’t. All it meant was if there was a link, she hadn’t found it yet.

Three hours later, and it looked like her sixth sense was right. In the last three years, five women—not including Carla and Deanna—all with dark hair and blue eyes, had disappeared from Stillwater. When she widened that search to include the whole county, the number rose to twelve. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Laurie lined up the pictures of the five women from Stillwater alongside those of Carla and Deanna on her computer screen. She swallowed hard, her hand instinctively reaching for her phone. Who was she going to call? Oddly, her first thought had been Cameron Delaney. Good thinking, Laurie. Call the criminal mastermind who might just be at the heart of this. Moreton? If she called in now, she’d be on the next flight to San Diego and would never get any answers. A glance at her phone told her she had no signal anyway. She frowned. That had been happening on and off since last night. It had to be the mountains.

She forced her attention back to the laptop screen. The resemblance between those seven girls wasn’t just a passing likeness. It was striking. Eight girls, not seven. My picture should be up there. Each had dark curls, bright blue eyes, creamy skin and a dazzling smile. This guy has a type, and I’m it. Her thoughts kept flying off at disordered tangents. Okay, focus. Carla. She was the odd one out. The others all disappeared, seemingly without a trace. Although there was still a long way to go to be sure about that, Laurie’s gut instinct was sending her some very strong messages. But Carla hadn’t disappeared; she had been killed. If Laurie was right, her death made to look like an accident. Why was that? Carla had to be the key to this. Laurie scribbled down a few notes in her unique shorthand, jotting down the names of the missing girls, locations and the dates they were last seen, together with her observations and questions. Technology was all very well, but sometimes she liked to do it the old-fashioned way.

A knock on the cabin door startled her, and she glanced around, surprised to see the light was already dropping into late afternoon. It was still too early for it to be Cameron. Quickly closing the laptop lid, she checked the window at the side of the door. When she saw who it was, she knew things must be bad.

“Moreton?” He stepped inside as soon as Laurie opened the door.

“Pack your stuff. As of now, you’re out of here.”

“Would you care to tell me why?” She couldn’t disobey an order from him, but she was sure as hell going to question it.

“You were right about Carla.” He turned the key in the lock, removed it from the door and placed it in his pocket. Gesturing to the sofa, he sat down.

Laurie joined him. “How did the police miss it?”

“It was a difficult one. She did drown, there’s no question about it. That was the cause of death. It was what happened to her before she drowned that’s the issue. The coroner documented a number of injuries that were caused immediately before her death, including—and I quote—‘a blow to the back of the head and bruising to the throat consistent with strangulation.’”

“She was murdered.” Laurie’s heart gave a sickening thud.

“Not officially. Consistent with. Those were the key words. It was the water in her lungs that killed her. The coroner’s verdict was accidental death.”

“Someone was on that boat with her. He killed her.” Laurie reached for her laptop and opened the lid, pointing to the photographs. “Each of these women has disappeared from her home in Stillwater over the last three years. Carla is the only one we know for sure has died.”

Moreton studied the screen for a few seconds, then his eyes went to Laurie’s face and lingered there. Why did she get the feeling he wasn’t surprised by what she was telling him? “There’s a lot more I need to tell you, but like I said, it’s time to go. Right now.” His voice was deadly serious. “We’ll get someone else in to investigate Delaney Transportation as soon as we can, but your safety is more important.”

She rose to her feet. “Does Mike Samuels know about this?”

Laurie had never met Samuels, Moreton’s superior in the agency, but she knew his word was final. On everything. Moreton didn’t quite meet her eyes, a fact that did nothing for her confidence. “I’ll fill you in on everything while we drive to the airport.”

Laurie nodded. If there was a serial killer on the loose and her handler was keeping secrets, she wanted out of here. “I’ll get my stuff.”

As soon as she got into the bedroom, she took her suitcase down from on top of the wardrobe and started pulling clothes out of the closet. After a minute or two, a sound from the next room caught her attention and she paused, listening intently. Moreton must have been moving around restlessly, impatient for her to be finished. Next there was a loud thud followed by silence.

“Moreton?” She tried to keep the note of panic out of her voice. There was no reply.

Was she imagining it, or could she sense a presence just outside the bedroom door? Someone listening on the other side of the wooden panels? Her supercharged perception told her she could hear heavy breathing. Then, just as she thought she might go mad with anticipation, she heard the sound of footsteps moving away. There was a pause, followed by the unmistakable sound of one of the windows being raised. She judged the sound to have come from the rear of the cabin. Quiet descended once more.

With a cold feeling of dread closing around her heart like icy fingers, Laurie moved across the bedroom. With shaking fingers, she reached into the top drawer of the bedside table. Her hand closed around her gun and she withdrew it, willing her breathing into a regular rhythm at the same time. On silent feet, she made her way to the door and opened it a crack. She couldn’t see anything. Moreton was out of the line of her vision.

Opening the door wider, Laurie gripped the gun tight and slid through the gap into the other room. The sight that greeted her almost made her heart stop beating altogether. Moreton lay on his back in front of the fire. Blood had formed a puddle around him where his throat had been cut. On his chest someone had placed a heart-shaped arrangement of red roses.

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