“The B and B’s on fire.”

Luke tried the front door. Locked.

He raced to the back of the house, tried the knob and was ready to crash through when he raised his eyes.

A woman stood in the second-story window, frantically pounding her hands against the glass.

Climbing onto the porch railing, Luke shimmied up the column, then hoisted himself onto the ledge. Reaching the window, he pounded on the glass.

“Move back,” he warned. She stepped aside, and Luke twisted his jacket around his hand, raised his fist and shattered the glass.

He grabbed the woman and guided her to the windowsill.

“I’ve got you. We jump on three. One. Two. Three.”

They jumped just before the room exploded, spewing a ball of fire into the night.

DEBBY GIUSTI

is a medical technologist who loves working with test tubes and petri dishes almost as much as she loves to write. Growing up as an army brat, Debby met and married her husband—then a captain in the army—at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful army brats of their own and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of suspense that touch the heart and soul.

Contact Debby through her Web site, www.DebbyGiusti.com, e-mail debby@debbygiusti.com or write c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

Countdown to Death
Debby Giusti

MILLS & BOON

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May your kindness, O Lord, be upon us

who have put our hope in you.

—Psalms 33:22

To all medical laboratory professionals,

especially my former coworkers at

Peachtree Regional Hospital

To Tony, Liz, Joe, Mary, Katie and Eric

Your love and support mean so much to me

To Darlene, Annie and Anna

To Emily Rodmell, Jessica Alvarez

and Deidre Knight

Thank you!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

Allison Stewart’s future hung in the balance. Her job. Her research. Her attempt to make a difference.

Two years working on a new laboratory test to detect blood-borne pathogens, and the board still couldn’t decide if she deserved additional funding.

Pulling in a calming breath, she slipped her hands into the powdered latex gloves and snipped off a segment of tubing from three units of blood.

Collected at a South Georgia blood draw earlier in the week, the units had been transported to Magnolia Medical’s laboratory in Atlanta for processing. Ensuring the blood was safe for transfusion was top priority.

The units had passed the routine battery of tests.

They’d flunked Allison’s.

She spun the segments in the centrifuge, then transferred the top layer of golden serum into the analyzer.

The test was a semiautomated procedure. Rapid, if not reliable.

Given time, she’d work out the kinks.

The instrumentation clicked into operation.

If she believed in the power of prayer, this would be the time to ask for help. But God had turned His back on her years ago. No reason anything would change today.

Discarding her gloves, she wiped her damp palms against the side of her lab coat. Behind her, footsteps sounded across the polished tile floor. She turned as Veronica Edwards, the research department’s laboratory manager, entered the special projects area.

“I thought you’d be tied up all afternoon with the directors.” Allison noted her supervisor’s drawn face and furrowed brow. Evidently, the meeting hadn’t gone well.

“The board cut your funding.”

Allison’s chest tightened. “Did you tell them I’m optimistic about perfecting the procedure?”

“They’re focused on cost reduction, not sinking more money into a laboratory test that, with time, may detect a rare prion disease.”

“A rare but fatal prion disease,” Allison corrected her.

“Which has never posed a significant problem in the U.S.”

The muscles in Allison’s neck tensed. “Great Britain didn’t think it had a problem until the prion outbreak there. Remember the havoc mad cow disease caused? We’re still restricting donations from people who lived in Europe during that time for fear they will infect our blood supply.”

Veronica sighed. “I understand the significance of your research. If we can find a way to identify the dormant prion protein, we can lift the European restriction.”

“And end the blood-shortage crisis. Magnolia Medical would control the patent on a test sure to be adopted in every blood-donor center throughout the country. The revenue alone would—”

“But two years with no hint of success, Allison. It’s over.”

The analyzer stopped. Thirty seconds and the results would feed to the monitor.

Time to come clean. Her supervisor needed to be brought up to date.

“I ran random specimens yesterday from that last blood draw, expecting the units to be negative. Three reacted so I tested them again this morning with the same results.” Allison tried to smile but knew she fell short. “They say the third time’s a charm. I repeated the procedure just now.”

Allison glanced at the monitor as the results rolled across the screen. “The levels are identical to the first two runs.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning three donors will soon develop neurological symptoms that will eventually lead to death.”

Veronica stepped closer. “The likelihood of picking up a single positive specimen—let alone three—in one blood draw is—” her eyes widened “—unheard of.”

“We never had a rapid, cost-effective test to screen donor blood before.”

Veronica held up her index finger. “A test that’s still in the experimental phase.”

Do or die. Allison was gambling everything on the next bit of information she needed to share.

“The three positive specimens came from donors who live in the same small town—Sterling, Georgia.”

The lab manager’s eyebrow shot up. “You accessed their personal donor data?”

Allison nodded. “According to the information I found online, the area is a haven for deer hunters. Maybe the men ate venison from deer with chronic wasting disease. I’ll drive to Sterling after work tonight. If I talk to the men, I may find a common link.”

Veronica shook her head. “I don’t like it.”

“Three days and I should have an answer.”

Veronica caved. “Two days. But watch what you say. I wouldn’t want anyone to be told they have a fatal disease because of a questionable result from a test that’s far from ready for clinical use. And no contact with the media. We don’t want any wild stories about an outbreak of mad cow disease in Georgia. Invalid test results would blacken Magnolia Medical’s good name.”

“But the test is valid,” Allison said with conviction.

“Then find the connection with infected deer.”

Veronica headed for the door, but Allison’s next comment caused her to pause. “Venison may not be the source of infection.”

Veronica held up her hand. “If you’re thinking contaminated beef is the problem, you’re jumping to a conclusion I’m not willing to consider. Find the reason for the positive reactions. See whether they tie in with a diseased deer population.”

“And if not?” Allison asked.

Neither of them gave voice to the obvious. If the test were valid and if eating or handling contaminated venison had not infected the men, then an even more serious situation was raising its ugly head in South Georgia. A situation that could impact the entire southeast, if not the nation.

“Then God help us,” Veronica said as she turned on her heel and left the lab.

After all that had happened, Luke Garrison was riding on empty. His sister’s handicap, the trauma that had pushed her farther into a world of isolation, their father’s tragic death. Ten years ago, yet the memories were too real, too fresh. Any hope for the future seemed as elusive as the moonbeams filtering through the cloudy night sky.

Luke pulled his eyes from the long stretch of highway that led back to Sterling and glanced at his sister, Shelly, sleeping in the backseat of his SUV.

“Poor thing, she’s worn out,” his aunt said from the passenger seat.

“So are you.” Luke noted the fatigue that lined the older woman’s face. Even her vibrant red hair seemed limp and lifeless in the half-light coming from the dash. “Shelly’s trips to the doctor in Atlanta take their toll on you, Bett.”

“You worry as much as I do about her. If only the doctor would offer some encouragement.”

“We’ll keep praying for a miracle,” he said, hearing more optimism in his voice than he felt.

A decade of pain remained heavy on his heart.

Letting out a frustrated breath, he forced his gaze back to the road, determined to send the memories scurrying into the night.

The lights from town glowed in the distance.

Bett’s eyes began to droop and her head rested on the seat back as she drifted into a light slumber.

At the fork in the road, Luke veered left onto the desolate two-lane that skirted Sterling—the route he had routinely chosen since his father’s death. No need to give the townspeople more fuel for their insistent chatter. As far as he was concerned, the less time he spent in town the better.

Up ahead, the old Wallace Bed and Breakfast stood out against the cloudy sky, the only structure on this stretch of lonely back road.

What a shame to let such a beautiful place go so long without upkeep. If repairs weren’t done soon, even the few travelers who meandered through Sterling would find lodging elsewhere.

Thank you, Cooper Wallace. So much for greedy lawyers who always thought of the bottom line.

Luke glanced again at the once-stately Victorian. A light flickered in the upstairs hall window. The glass shimmered in the night.

Shimmered like—

Realization hit him full force. Fire!

He swerved to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes.

Bett’s eyes flew open.

“The B and B’s on fire. Call for help!”

Before she could find her cell, Luke was out of the car and running toward the shingled structure.

He tried the front door. Locked.

“Fire! Open up! Everyone out,” he screamed, pounding the brass knocker against the thick oak.

Please, God, if anyone’s staying the night, let them hear me.

The kitchen entrance might be open.

He raced to the back of the house, tried the doorknob and was ready to crash through the door when he raised his eyes.

A woman stood at the second-story window, frantically pounding her hands against the glass.

Heart in his throat, Luke slammed his full weight against the kitchen door, relieved when the aged oak gave way. Inside, the smoke rolled through the house, thick and black.

“Fire,” he screamed again.

A middle-aged man coughed as he staggered from the darkness.

“How many people are staying here?” Luke asked.

“A guy and his wife are in the back bedroom. They’re headed this way. But someone’s trapped upstairs. The fire’s raging at the top of the staircase. There’s no way to reach her.”

“Where’s the night manager?”

“He left hours ago.”

Before the man finished speaking, a young couple stumbled into the kitchen. The woman gasped for air.

“Get outside,” Luke ordered. He reached for the woman’s arm and guided the three of them to safety.

As they scurried away from the house, Luke looked up once again. An increased sense of dread slipped over him. Unable to break the window, the woman stood outlined against the deadly glow from the fire that filled the room.

Climbing onto the porch railing, Luke shimmied up the column holding the drainage spout to the overhanging roof, then hoisted himself onto the ledge that rimmed the second story.

Adrenaline coursed like lightning through his veins as he scooted toward the window, aware of the growing crackle of the flames coming from within the aged structure. A section of the narrow railing broke. His foot gave way. He grabbed the rough shingles, holding on with his fingertips, and hugged the wall to maintain his balance.

His rapidly beating heart seemed as loud as the sirens wailing through the night. Fire trucks would arrive soon, but not in time to save the woman.

He inched forward. Sweat trickled down his back and dampened his shirt.

Reaching the window, he pounded on the glass.

She turned at the sound, her face wrapped in terror.

“Move back,” he warned, shrugging out of his jacket.

Had she heard him?

As if his words had finally registered, she stepped aside and covered her face with her arms.

Luke twisted his jacket around his right hand, raised his fist and jammed it against the window. The pane shattered.

With a series of sweeps, he cleared away the remaining shards of glass.

Fueled by the increased oxygen, the fire burned bright, the roar deafening.

Luke grabbed the woman and guided her over the windowsill. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his flesh.

“I’ve got you,” he assured her. “We jump on three.”

She shook her head. “I…I can’t.”

“You have to,” he insisted. “One…Two…”

He wrapped his arm protectively around her waist.

“Three.”

They jumped just before the room exploded, spewing a ball of fire into the night.

A clump of overgrown azalea bushes broke their fall. Together they rolled and came to rest on a mound of thick pine needles.

Luke groaned as he pulled himself to a sitting position.

Lights flashed. The fire chief appeared, yelling orders to his men. A scurry of activity surrounded them as hoses stretched toward the flames. Water hissed from the nozzles.

The woman lay on the ground, eyes closed, golden hair streaming around a face pale as death.

“Ma’am?” Luke nudged her shoulder. “Ma’am?”

When she didn’t respond, he touched her neck. No pulse.

“She needs help,” he shouted, hoping to attract attention.

Knowing every second was critical, Luke tilted her head back. With swift, sure movements, he blew two quick puffs of air into her mouth, then, intertwining his fingers, he pressed down on her sternum.

“And one, and two…” He counted the compressions.

Where were the medical personnel?

“And three, and—”

“We’ll take it from here.” A team of EMTs scurried to his aid.

Luke edged back to let them do their job.

Bett raced toward him. “Someone said you went into the burning building.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her as he stood and looked around. “Where’s Shelly?”

“In the car. Mrs. Rogers heard the sirens and stopped by to help. She’s with Shelly. I was worried. They told me you pulled a person from the fire.”

He pointed to where the EMTs clustered.

Bett grabbed his arm. “You’re hurt, Luke.”

For the first time, he noticed the gash on his forearm and the blood that matted his shirt.

“It’s a small cut.” He shrugged off her concern while his eyes fixed once again on the woman he’d tried to save.

The spotlights cutting through the night, the frantic rush of the emergency personnel and the acrid stench of the smoke took him back, and for a moment he saw Hilary’s lifeless body lying on the ground.

A lump filled his throat. Lord, don’t let another woman die.

Chaos. Allison felt the swell of confusion and panic surround her. She gasped for air.

A mask covered her mouth and nose. She tried to push it aside.

Someone restrained her hand.

“Breathe, lady.”

Her chest burned.

“Come on, lady. You gotta breathe.”

She pulled in a shallow breath, expecting smoke. Instead her lungs filled with life-giving oxygen. She gulped, sucking in the pure air.

“She’s coming ’round,” the voice announced. “Tell Luke. Only way he’ll calm down is if he knows she’s okay.”

A few moments later, a hand touched her shoulder.

She blinked open her eyes and saw the man who’d saved her life.

His cheeks were covered with soot. Blood streaked through his thick chestnut hair where he’d wiped his arm across his forehead.

Dark eyes searched her face. “Are you okay?”

“You saved my life,” she managed to whisper.

“I thought…” Concern wrinkled his brow. “When you didn’t respond, I was worried you wouldn’t make it.”

She smiled, or at least tried to smile through the oxygen mask.

An EMT tapped his shoulder. “Sorry, Luke, but the county medical van just arrived. The doc wants to examine her.”

Before she could say goodbye, the man who’d saved her disappeared into the crowd of onlookers.

To Allison’s surprise, the medical van was state-of-the-art and the doctor’s exam thorough. Irritated lungs, which improved after the breathing treatments that the EMTs administered, and a strained back were her only injuries.

“You’re one lucky lady,” the fire chief said to her later as she sat outside the medical van and watched the men roll up their hoses. The front of the house and kitchen had been saved. A gaping black hole was all that remained of the room where she’d been staying.

She refused to think of what might have happened.

“B and B’s the only place that rents rooms in this area,” the chief continued. “The gentleman who was staying downstairs plans to drive seventy miles to the next town where a motor lodge has vacancies. Younger couple moved in with someone they know in Sterling.”

He stared at her, evidently waiting for an answer to a question she never heard him ask.

“Are you telling me I need to find a place to stay?”

“We’ve got an empty cabin.” A middle-aged woman with a weatherworn face, warm eyes and flaming red hair stepped forward from the group lingering close by. “Be happy to offer you lodging for as long as you’re in town.”

The woman patted Allison’s hand. “Bet you’re worn-out after everything that’s happened. We’ll take good care of you, honey.”

Hearing the compassion in the older woman’s voice, unexpected tears stung Allison’s eyes. She tried to blink them back.

Must be letdown after all that had happened. Either that, or the meds the doctor had given her.

“I thought you folks closed up the cabin.” The fire chief rubbed his hand over his chin. “After that boarder of yours—”

“Don’t need to focus on the past, Chief.” The woman cut him off, her voice sharp. Then she dug in her pocket, pulled out a clean tissue and handed it to Allison.

“The place is neat as a pin and ready for my new friend. My name’s Elizabeth Garrison. Folks call me Bett.”

Allison blew her nose and tried to smile at the second person who had come to her aid that night. Then, remembering her car, she rummaged in the shoulder bag she’d had the presence of mind to wrap about her neck as soon as she’d smelled smoke.

Keys in hand, she tried to stand and grimaced as the pulled muscles in her back responded to the shift in position.

“I’ll take those,” a deep voice said behind her.

She turned and looked into her rescuer’s eyes.

“Did I overhear my aunt say you’re coming home with us?” He took the keys with his left hand and stuck out his right, a thick square of gauze taped to his forearm. “Seems we didn’t have time for introductions earlier. I’m Luke Garrison.”

She slipped her hand into his, feeling a connection. After all, he’d saved her life.

“Allison Stewart,” she mumbled, suddenly light-headed. Probably the medication taking effect.

“I’ll drive your car,” he said, then glanced at the older woman. “Bett, you take Shelly home in the SUV.”

“I hate to impose after all you’ve done,” Allison insisted, not wanting to be a pest.

His lips eased into a smile, but his eyes were serious. “I need to make sure nothing else happens to you tonight.”

Bett and Shelly pulled onto the two-lane street, heading home, as Luke settled Allison into the passenger side of her car and slipped into the driver’s seat next to her.

The cloud cover broke, exposing a crescent moon and stars twinkling in the sky. Venus, named after the goddess of love, hovered low on the horizon, reminding him of the Greek mythology he’d studied in college. He shook his head ever so slightly. Probably the close proximity of an attractive woman that had him thinking of love.

Or maybe it was due to the sweet floral scent that lingered in her car and contrasted sharply with the acrid smoke that clung to his clothes.

Today’s weather report forecast the first October frost, and over the past few hours, the temperature had dropped to near freezing. Luke reached for the heater control and turned to his passenger, still wrapped in a blanket the EMTs had given her. She looked bone-tired.

“Cold?”

She rubbed her arms and nodded. “Maybe a little.”

He adjusted the thermostat until warm air flowed from the vents.

“I’ve got a cell phone, if you’d like to call family to let them know you’re okay.”

“Mine’s in my purse.” She patted the small shoulder bag still draped around her neck. “I’ll call my laboratory manager tomorrow in case the fire makes the Atlanta news.”

“Where do you work?”

“Magnolia Medical. It’s a health-care facility. Clinical labs, physical and occupational therapy, that type of thing. I’m in the research branch.”

After the endless battery of tests Shelly had been put through, medical personnel didn’t rank high on Luke’s list of important people. Bett had insisted extended therapy in Atlanta would help. He’d never told his aunt, but he wondered if Shelly’s recovery had been delayed because the specialists had pushed her too hard.

“Surely you’re not here because of your research?” he asked, surprised by the edge in his voice. “Something to do with the local wildlife?”

She turned to stare at him. “Why do you ask?”

He could see the question in her blue eyes even in the dim reflection of light from the dashboard controls.

“A couple guys were talking while you were being treated by the doc. They said you stopped by the Roadside Grill on your way into town and quizzed the waitress about the wild game on the menu.”

“Folks in Sterling like to talk.”

“It’s a small town.” He shrugged. “News travels.”

“I didn’t expect them to serve venison,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “PETA or anti-gun?”

“Pardon?”

“Sounds like you’re against hunting.”

“I never said that.”

“But you insinuated it. At least that’s what the men led me to believe.”

“And you believe everything you hear?”

She had him there.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said.

“And so am I.” She pulled her hair back from her face and sighed. “The fact is, I’m working on a laboratory test to ensure the safety of our blood supply. It’s in the developmental stage, and I picked up some unexpected results.”

“If they have to do with the deer population, you might want to notify the game warden.”

“It’s a little too early to involve him. At this point, the results of my test are questionable.”

“Then you don’t think there’s a problem with the venison?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

Neither did he. Allison looked as confused as she sounded.

What had he read about diseases humans could get from deer? He thought of the article he’d written on hunting safety. “Only thing that comes to mind involving infected venison is chronic wasting disease. We’ve never had a problem in Georgia.”

Allison’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mention the name of the disease.”

“No, you didn’t. But I wrote an article for a hunting magazine a few months back on the danger of infected game.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned. “You’re a journalist?”

“Actually I run a manufacturing company and do a little farming on the side. In my spare time, I pen articles for a regional hunting magazine.”

“Time-out, okay?” She put one hand over the other to form a T. “The doc gave me a muscle relaxer that’s making me talk too much. Do me a favor and let’s change the subject.”

Typical for medical types. Throw out information, then refuse to discuss the situation fully. Shelly’s doctors had done the same thing numerous times, causing Luke undue frustration.

Although frustration wasn’t what he was feeling tonight. More like concern.

He didn’t know a thing about the woman sitting next to him, but he knew about the danger wasting disease posed to hunters. Even if they didn’t eat the infected venison, handling the carcass—especially if they had cuts on their hands—could increase the risk of exposure. Yet Allison had admitted her results were questionable.

He made a mental note to call the game warden in the morning. Luke hadn’t seen any sickly animals on his property, but it wouldn’t hurt to notify the authorities to be on the lookout.

They rode in silence for over a mile until Allison tilted her head back against the seat. “Your aunt seems like a nice lady. What about the rest of your family?”

He shrugged. “Not much to tell. Bett’s helping me raise my sister.”

“So Shelly’s not your daughter?”

The look on her face caused him to chuckle. “Do I look like an old married guy?”

“No, but—” She smiled. “I told you I’m not thinking straight. And your parents?”

“They’re both dead.”

He heard the finality in his voice, and to her credit, Allison didn’t push for more information. Instead, she mumbled a few words of sympathy and closed her eyes.

Pretty, even with the soot that smudged her face. No matter why she’d come to Sterling, Luke would let her stay in the cabin for a day or two while she tracked down the information she needed. She’d probably be on her way by the end of the week.

Doubtful she’d disrupt his routine in that short time. After all, he’d worked too long to build a protective cocoon where his sister could live without being reminded of the past. Despite the doctors’ prognosis, Luke believed Shelly would eventually have a breakthrough. He wouldn’t let anything set her back again.

Even an attractive scientist who seemed to need protection herself.

Allison knew when to keep quiet. The tone of Luke’s voice had made it clear his parents’ deaths were off-limits as a topic of discussion. She understood limits. She’d placed boundaries on her past as well.

Besides, she didn’t feel like talking. Her back ached and a heavy weight sat on her chest from the amount of smoke she’d inhaled. Common sense told her she should have followed the doctor’s advice and gone to the hospital for observation. But the facility was seventy-five miles away, and she didn’t have time to twiddle her thumbs while the doc on duty determined she could be released in the morning.

She needed to find the reason for her test results before someone in Atlanta decided to release the three units for transfusion.

“It’s over, Allison,” the laboratory manager’s words echoed through her mind.

Allison had worked too long and come too far to have her research dismissed so quickly.

The hum of the tires along the country road, the warmth of the heater and the darkness lulled Allison into a light slumber.

She blinked her eyes open when the car came to a stop in front of a small log cabin with a wide porch, where Luke’s aunt waved a greeting. Two wrought-iron lights illuminated a glider swing and rocking chair.

Rounding the car, Luke opened the passenger door and held out his hand. Placing hers in his, she felt the strength of his grasp, grateful for his support as her stiff muscles refused to readily comply.

“Shelly’s in bed and waiting for you to tell her good-night,” Bett said to Luke, then, wrapping her arm around Allison, she ushered her toward the cabin. “I’ve got everything ready for you, dear.”

“Take good care of her,” Luke said as their hands parted.

“Now come on, honey. I’ll get you settled.” Bett opened the cabin door. Before Allison stepped inside, she glanced back at Luke, who walked purposely toward a large, sprawling farmhouse about fifty yards away.

What was it about Luke Garrison? He’d saved her life, for which she’d be eternally grateful. Both he and his aunt seemed welcoming with their offer of lodging and attention to her needs.

He had seemed friendly enough until she’d mentioned his parents. Death was hard. Something she knew firsthand. Evidently, Luke was a private person who kept his feelings to himself.

But his tone of voice sent a question niggling at the back of her mind.

Was there something he wanted to keep secret about their deaths?

TWO

The next morning, Allison’s eyes opened with a start to the gray haze filtering through the calico curtains. Her hand touched the crisp cotton sheet and thick multicolored quilt that covered the bed where she lay.

Her body ached. She stretched to ensure her muscles would respond, then wiggled her fingers and toes. Nothing broken.

Recollection flooded over her. The fire, her cries for help, strong hands that pulled her from the burning building.

Death had almost found her in Sterling, Georgia. Not a good way to start her stay.

Rising in the bed, she grimaced when the muscles in her back protested; she stretched, hoping to ease out the kinks. Once on her feet, she parted the curtain and spied her car parked outside.

Last night seemed a blur. The doctor had given her something to help her relax. Evidently, it had taken effect before she’d arrived at the cabin.

No other motel or hotel in town. Luckily, no one had been hurt in the fire. And the man who had saved her?

She remembered the determination in his voice before they’d jumped. About the only thing she was able to clearly recall.

Brain still as fuzzy as cotton batting, she spied her purse on the nightstand and her overnight bag on the floor.

Slowly the events of the night before unfolded. Once she’d found her room at the B and B, she’d been too tired to retrieve her suitcase from the car. Instead she had dozed on the bed and awakened later, smelling smoke.

Gratitude filled her again.

Luke and his aunt—

What was her name? Bett Garrison. That was it. They’d been so kind to offer lodging.

Allison hadn’t expected their generosity or the sense of relief that washed over her now. She could have died in the fire.

A déjà vu of Drew.

She shook off the thought. This wasn’t the time or place to revisit the past.

Better to deal with the issue at hand.

Closing the curtain, Allison turned from the window and opened her suitcase. She needed to find the Garrisons to thank them for their hospitality before she headed to town to talk to the men she’d tried to contact by phone yesterday. She’d left two messages on voice mail and had arranged an interview with the only person she could reach at home.

One in three. Not good odds.

Once dressed, Allison stepped outside into the overcast morning and shuffled toward the two-story frame farmhouse, her body refusing to move at any pace but slow. A barn sat in the distance near a rolling pasture where a few head of cattle grazed.

The house had a tin roof, black shutters and a wraparound porch neatly arranged with a rattan love seat, chair and dual rockers. The surrounding hardwood trees—sweet gums, maples and oaks—wore their fall colors, from bright reds to burnt umber. The breeze fluttered through the trees, sending a shower of leaves that piled like giant confetti on the ground below.

The screen door opened and Bett welcomed her with a wide smile. Her red hair was pulled into a clip at the base of her neck. She wore jeans and a pullover sweater and looked rested and fresh.

“I was wondering how late you’d sleep. Breakfast is ready. ’Spect you’re hungry after that ordeal last night. I’ve got eggs, sausage, grits and corn bread waiting on the stove.”

“You’ve been so kind. Thank you, Bett.”

“Nice to have company to look after. Gets kind of lonely around here sometimes.” She watched as Allison crept up the porch steps. “How’s the back?”

“Much better.”

Inside, a leather couch and love seat sat in front of a floor-to-ceiling stacked stone fireplace. Hunting magazines lay neatly arranged on the coffee table, and a mounted deer head hung over the mantel. Definitely a man’s room.

A second door led to an area off the kitchen where a round oak pedestal table, covered with a linen cloth, was set for four.

“Sit there, dear.” Bett pointed to a chair and reached for the coffeepot.

“Luke will be downstairs in a minute. We home-school Shelly, and he’s helping her with today’s lesson.”

“So it’s just the three of you?”

“That’s right. My brother—Luke’s dad—passed away about ten years ago. And Luke’s mother died shortly after Shelly was born.”

Seems Bett didn’t have a problem discussing their deaths. “I’m sorry.”

“The Lord knows what He’s doing even when we don’t understand.”

Allison wished she could be half as positive when it came to anything to do with God.

Bett poured coffee into a mug and handed it to Allison. The rich aroma of the fresh brew, mixed with the smell of corn bread and sausage, was making her mouth water. She blew into the hot liquid and took a sip, feeling at ease in the comfortable kitchen.

A door opened behind her. Allison turned, and just that quickly, her sense of serenity vanished, replaced with a nervous tingle that warmed her from the inside out.

Luke stood in the doorway. Lean and lanky with broad shoulders that filled out the plaid shirt tucked into well-worn jeans.

“Come on now, Shelly,” he called. “The lady won’t hurt you.”

Glancing into the kitchen, he flashed a smile at Allison that caused her cheeks to burn.

“Shelly’s shy around strangers,” he explained.

Which was exactly the way Allison was feeling at the moment.

“How’s your back?” he asked.

“Probably better than your arm,” she said, returning his smile.

“Then we’re both in good shape.” Even from across the room, she could see the twinkle in his eyes.

As they spoke, a girl shyly peeked at Allison from the hallway beyond the open door. Slender like her aunt with the same red hair. At first glance, Shelly appeared to be about sixteen, but as she stepped forward, Allison noted her innocent facial expressions and the faraway look in her eyes. Undoubtedly, she was a special child with a mental age much younger than her actual years.

“Go on, now,” Luke encouraged, his hand nudging her into the room.

With a reassuring nod from her brother, Shelly shuffled toward the table. She favored her left leg, causing a lateral swing to her gait.

Once she was seated, Luke grabbed her napkin from the table, shook it open and placed it over her lap. “Remember your manners, darlin’, and eat like the little lady you are.”

Shelly’s eyes crinkled, but her mouth refused to smile.

Luke’s gaze was warm, and Allison could see the deep affection he had for his sister.

Standing at the stove, Bett fixed a plate and placed it in front of Shelly.

“How ’bout you, Allison? Two links or three?” Bett held the spatula poised above the skillet, where plump sausage sizzled. “Best venison sausage you’ll ever eat.”

Venison?

Luke flicked a quick glance her way.

“Just eggs, please. No sausage.”

Bett handed Allison her plate, then fixed one for Luke and herself before she sat at the table.

Realizing how hungry she really was, Allison picked up her fork ready to dig into the eggs when an awkward silence settled over the room. She looked up to find Luke staring at her.

“Shall we offer thanks?”

Her cheeks burned. “Of course.”

She returned the fork to her plate, bowed her head and clasped her hands together on her lap. Major faux pas. So much for trying to fit in.

Luke spoke in a sincere voice. “Thank you, God, for the food we are about to eat. Thank you for protecting Allison from the fire and for giving us the opportunity to know her better. May we honor you in all we do this day. Amen.”

Reaching for his knife and fork, Luke cut Shelly’s sausage into bite-size pieces and spread a thick layer of golden butter over her corn bread.

Once again Allison’s cheeks burned. “Seems I’m late expressing my thanks.”

“Just glad I happened to be driving by.”

“If you hadn’t—”

He nodded almost imperceptibly toward his sister. Allison understood that Shelly didn’t need to hear the reality of what could have happened.

Not that Allison wanted to give voice to that thought, either.

Bett smiled and patted her arm. “No need to dwell on what might have been. We’re just thanking the Lord you’re here with us today.”

Her touch was filled with acceptance. Something Allison had little of from her own family.

“Shelly, after breakfast I want you to help me in the garden. We’ve got the last of the pole beans to pick before we finish your lessons and then work on our crafts.” Bett continued to chatter about the day ahead of them.

Relieved the conversation had turned to other topics, Allison ate heartily. Once finished, she wiped her mouth on the napkin and sighed with satisfaction.

“Breakfast was delicious.”

Bett beamed with the compliment and started to clear the table.

“Let me help you with the dishes.” Allison rose from the chair just as the doorbell rang.

Luke excused himself and quickly returned, followed by a middle-aged, beefy man dressed in a khaki uniform with a badge on his chest.

“Morning, Bett.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled warmly. “How ’bout some breakfast, Vic?”

“Can I take a rain check?”

“Allison, Sheriff Vic Treadwell wants to talk to us about last night,” Luke said.

“Ma’am.” The sheriff nodded to Allison, then smiled at Shelly. “Hey, Sunshine.”

The girl’s eyes crinkled, and the corners of her mouth twitched at the nickname she evidently enjoyed being called.

“Why don’t we go into the other room,” the sheriff suggested.

A sense of unease washed over Allison. She rinsed her hands in the sink and dried them on the towel Bett offered, then followed Luke and the sheriff into the living area.

Pulling in a steadying breath, she sat on one end of the leather couch opposite the sheriff, who withdrew a small tablet and pen from his pocket. Luke stood by the mantel.

“Allison, did you happen to hear anything before the fire broke out last night?” the sheriff asked, his pen poised to write.

She shook her head, trying to calm the threads of concern that tangled within her. “The drive from Atlanta took longer than I expected. I called a friend after I found my room and before I’d gotten my luggage from the car. I dozed off for a few minutes. When I opened my eyes, smoke filled the room.”

“Did you see anyone hanging around the premises?”

“No one.” She thought back to the blackened hallway of the bed-and-breakfast and the lone lamp that had shadowed the registration desk. “The night manager left me a note with the key to the room.”

The sheriff jotted something on the tablet. “Who let you in?”

“No one. The front door was open when I arrived.”

“And you locked it when you went upstairs?”

“I left it the way I’d found it, Sheriff, in case someone arrived after me.”

“But it was locked when I got there,” Luke volunteered.

The sheriff glanced at Luke before turning his gaze back to Allison. “You sure you didn’t lock the door?”

“I’m quite sure.”

“I blame Cooper Wallace,” Luke said as the sheriff made another notation. “It’s been years since he’s done any repair work on the property. Faulty wiring probably caused the fire.”

The sheriff shook his head. “Now, Luke, I know you two don’t see eye to eye, but he’s got a lot on his plate with his campaign for the state senate.”

Luke let out an exasperated breath. “He’ll never get elected.”

“If you came to town a bit more often, you might realize Coop’s favored to win. ’Course, there’s no one of worth running against him.”

Wallace? The name of one of the men Allison needed to find. “Any chance he’s related to Jason Wallace?”

The sheriff nodded. “Jason’s his kid brother. Why?”

What could she say? She needed to respect Jason Wallace’s privacy, but she also needed to answer the sheriff’s question truthfully.

“I hope to talk to him later today about a test my lab is developing.”

“A test that has to do with the health of the local deer population,” Luke added.

The sheriff raised his brow. “Folks take their hunting seriously around these parts.”

Allison glanced at the magazines on the table and the mounted deer head hanging on the wall. “So it seems.”

A gust of wind whistled down the chimney, and she shivered, not so much from the cold but from the confusion she felt. The sheriff’s interrogation had turned in a new direction. “Let me assure you, I didn’t come to Sterling to cause trouble.”

The sheriff frowned. “Some might disagree.”

“Meaning?” She looked at Luke, but his eyes were veiled.

The sheriff pursed his lips. “We’ve never had an arson case before.”

Her breath caught. “Arson?”

His gaze was direct, his tone as cold as the wind. “The fire started in the hallway outside your room, and was fueled by an accelerant.”

Allison’s neck tingled and a sick feeling roiled through her stomach.

“Hate to tell you, ma’am—”

She flicked another glance at Luke, who stared into the fireplace.

“From the looks of it—”

The sheriff shook his head. His voice seemed distant.

A roar filled her ears. She swallowed down the lump that clogged her throat and tried to hear what he was saying.

“From the looks of it, I’d say someone in Sterling wants you dead.”

THREE

An arson case in Sterling.

Luke had a hard time swallowing that bit of information. Sure, he’d been quick to blame Cooper Wallace for neglecting the upkeep on the property, but that was a far cry from setting the fire on purpose.

Overcome with frustration, Luke kicked a pile of leaves and sent them scattering along the driveway as he waited for the sheriff to finish interrogating Allison in private. She’d insisted the details about her test remain confidential. Once he realized his presence was keeping her from explaining everything to the sheriff, Luke had excused himself and stepped outside.

Did she think he’d spread the information all over town? If only she knew how little he had to do with anyone from Sterling.

Luke turned at the sound of the door opening. Sheriff Treadwell hustled across the porch and down the steps. “Thanks for giving us a few minutes alone, Luke. Doubt her work in Atlanta has much bearing on the fire, but I’ll have a talk with the three blood donors she came here to question.”

“Did she tell you it might involve wasting disease?”

“Only that it was a possibility.”

“I called the game warden this morning to give him a heads-up.”

“Has he seen any sick game?”

“Not a one. Any idea who set the blaze?”

“Wish I did. Truth be told, I don’t have a clue, but like I told Allison, because of where it started, she could be the likely target.”

“Don’t rule out Cooper. I’m sure he’s made some enemies. Or maybe the arsonist was looking for someone who rented the room before Allison.”

“Now you’re thinking like a cop. I’ll talk to Cooper. I’ve already questioned the guy he has running the B and B. From what he said, business has been slow all year. The upstairs rooms haven’t been occupied for months.”

“Then why’d he put Allison up there?”

“Three of the rooms on the first floor were being remodeled. He had rented the two remaining downstairs rooms earlier in the week. When Allison e-mailed for reservations, he had no choice but to put her upstairs.”

“Did he tell anyone which room she was in?”

“Supposedly no one.”

“Cooper would have access to that information.”

The sheriff shook his head. “Now, Luke, you know Cooper’s busy with his campaign. Doubtful he’s interested in who’s staying at the B and B or which rooms have been rented out. You’re letting what happened ten years ago cloud your judgment. You gotta let it go, son. Your daddy would have been the first to tell you to forgive and forget.”

The sheriff’s words stung like alcohol on an open wound. “My father believed in justice. You know that, Vic.”

“Best sheriff Sterling’s ever had. Stepping into his shoes after his death was the hardest move I’ve ever made.”

“Folks still giving you a hard time about never charging me with the crime?”

“Folks talk about a lot of things, you know that. First thing your dad taught me when I became a deputy was that people always talk. Can’t do anything about it, so best to let it slide like water off a duck’s back.”

“But they haven’t forgotten.”

“As bad as it was, doubtful anyone will forget. But they’ve moved on to other things. Might do you good to follow their example. You’ve been holed up out here like an ostrich with your head in the sand. Time to face life again. Ten years is too long to close yourself off.”

Luke stuck out his hand. “Good advice, Vic. Fact is I’m planning to make a trip into Sterling today. There’s someone I want to see.”

The sheriff raised his brow. “You don’t need more trouble.”

“You should talk to Cooper Wallace about causing trouble.”

“You’re a friend, Luke. But that wasn’t the reason I didn’t arrest you. You know there wasn’t enough evidence. Despite our friendship, and no matter how cold that case might be, if something concrete shows up that ties you to the crime, I’ll haul you in faster than a hawk sweeping down on its prey. You understand me, son?”

The front door opened, and Luke turned to see Allison standing on the porch, her eyes wide, brow furrowed with question.

The sheriff tipped his head. “Ma’am, I’ll keep you posted on what I find out.”

He slapped Luke’s shoulder, then turned and headed to his squad car.

From the confusion Luke saw written plainly on Allison’s face, he wondered if she’d heard the sheriff’s comment. She didn’t need anything else to carry on her slender shoulders.

Talk of arson and a cold-case crime was enough to send her scurrying back to Atlanta, where, he had to admit, she’d probably be safer. After everything that had happened, Sterling was anything but safe.

Why was Luke staring at her with such a strange expression on his face? Evidently she’d interrupted a personal conversation he’d been having with the sheriff.

She would have stayed in the house, but Bett and Shelly had gone out the back door to the garden, and Allison had needed to grab her cell from the cabin and call the lab before she headed to town. Although with the medication still in her system, she wondered if she should drive. The muscle relaxers had taken the edge off the pain, but they made her feel like she was moving in slow motion. Add to the mix that she was still struggling to understand everything that had happened last night. If what Sheriff Treadwell said was true, someone had tried to kill her. Surely he was mistaken. She didn’t know anyone in Sterling who would want to do her harm.

Squaring her shoulders, Allison walked down the steps to where Luke stood. “Bett said you could give me directions back to town.”

Luke nodded. “I can do better than that. I’ll drive you there.”

He certainly aimed to please. “Don’t you have work to do?”

A lazy smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, ma’am, but it can wait.”

Okay. She’d accept his offer. “Give me ten minutes to make a phone call.”

Allison picked her way along the path to the cabin, feeling Luke’s eyes following her. Opening the door, she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see him still standing in the driveway, but he’d disappeared from sight.

A feeling settled over her. Relief or disappointment? She wasn’t sure.

Closing the door behind her, Allison found her cell and punched in the number to the lab.

“Magnolia Medical, research department.” Denise Ryan, the lab secretary, answered on the third ring. Once she heard Allison’s voice, she sighed deeply.

“I was worried. The morning news mentioned a fire. Sounded like the place where you were staying.”

“I’m fine, Denise. A very nice woman and her nephew took me in.”

“Oh-h?” She exaggerated the word into two syllables. “And just how old is this nephew?”

Allison couldn’t help but laugh. Denise loved to play matchmaker, and she’d offered Allison more than a few names of eligible bachelors. None of whom Allison had been interested in meeting. “My guess, early thirties.”

“And you turned twenty-nine on your last birthday. Sounds perfect.”

“Enough of that. I need to talk to Veronica.”

The secretary lowered her voice. “I think she’s gotten some flack about those units you quarantined yesterday, especially with the shortage we’re having statewide.”

Denise had reached out to Allison when she’d first received funding for her research. Always one to know the latest scuttlebutt, the secretary had quickly clued her in to Veronica’s insistence on perfection. Something Allison couldn’t fault.

Laboratory testing required precision and accuracy. When someone’s life hung in the balance, there was no time for second-guessing. That was exactly why Allison was in Sterling. She believed her results were valid.

“Have you talked to any donors yet?” the lab manager asked as soon as she got on the line.

“That’s what I plan to do today. I’ll let you know what I uncover.”

“The board expects a detailed explanation on why those three units are being held in quarantine. Bottom line, they don’t want surgeries canceled because of a lack of blood.”

“And I don’t want someone to come down with a fatal disease post-transfusion from a unit that may be infected.”

Veronica sighed. “Of course we have to err on the side of caution. I’ll type up a report and present it to the board as soon as I hear back from you. Oh, and by the way, Allison, your dad called to talk to you this morning.”

“My dad? Did he say what he wanted?”

“Evidently he got wind of your research. You didn’t tell me you were Dr. Philip Stewart’s daughter. He’s one of the leading surgeons in this part of the country. Invite me to lunch next time he’s in town.”

“His schedule keeps him rather busy.” Allison wouldn’t mention their father-daughter estrangement to Veronica.

“I hope you don’t mind, but Denise forwarded his call to me. I told him you’d hit a slight blip in your test protocol that might put your research on hold.”

The positive test results were not a blip. And there was no reason her father needed to be told his daughter was less than successful. He’d figured that out long ago.

Of course, she wouldn’t mention that to Veronica, either.

“Call me when you have something,” her supervisor continued. “There’s another South Georgia blood draw in less than two weeks.”

“Ten days to be exact. I’ll find the reason for the results as soon as I can. Just be sure the board doesn’t release those three units of blood.”

Allison hung up, feeling anxiety eat at her esophagus. She had to focus on the task at hand or all the work she’d done would go up in smoke.

Not a good analogy.

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