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Laura Kate O'Connell left her life of excitement as an overseas news correspondent to return to her Georgia hometown to raise her two young cousins. When Royce Lee, Laura Kate's attorney, supposedly commits suicide, too many pieces of evidence tell a different story. Her instincts as an investigative reporting are tingling, and she just can't leave it alone. She meets Jack Rhodes, Royce's business partner. Sparks fly, but can she really trust a man she knows nothing about? And why is it that every time something new develops in the case, he seems to be there? Warnings to back off escalate to an attempt on her life. Now, for Laura Kate, it's more than just a mystery. Depending on Jack might be a mistake, but if Laura Kate can get past his southern charms and the nervous way Jack makes her feel, she may get the facts, solve the case, and even save her own life. EXCERPT Whirling toward the lake, she strained to make out the sound. Be careful of your imagination, Laura Kate. He can't be everywhere. Probably night animals, like raccoons and possums. Still she snapped the double barrel into the stock and took three long strides into the magnolias. "Who's there?" Something scrambled toward the lake -- a heavy-bodied creature. A deer? Then, like a flash of lightning, radiance fell on her. She looked into the trees and laughed, her nerves quieting. The floodlights had been strung in the magnolias back in her aunt's and uncle's cotillion days when cars departed after midnight. First time, to her knowledge, they'd been used to deter an intruder -- if it was an intruder. Of course the killer was on Lake Lane. He wanted her frightened off. She looked back toward the lane and listened for a truck to rumble to life. For thirty seconds, maybe, she listened and heard nothing. But then, Live Oaks was a vast place with many roads, forests, and hills. She returned through the magnolias, and as expected, Brewster stood on the veranda waiting for her. Cracking the gun and draping it over her arm, she strode toward him. "Possums," she said, not meeting his dark eyes as she stomped up the steps. "We're overrun with possums this year." A deep line of resignation rode his brow as he took the shotgun from her and unloaded. In the great hall, she took off the pea coat. "How are the girls?" Studying her for a moment, he said, "They're with Mr. Olin at the kennels. They should be coming in soon to dress for dinner." "Keep a close eye on them." "I am," Brewster said, letting her know he disapproved of her putting them in harm¿s way. "You've been much sought after today, Miss Laura Kate." A message tablet lay near the telephone on the escritoire. Sheriff Mather Morris's name was written in Brewster's neat hand -- three times. 'Important' and 'Urgent' were written after two of them, but the third message said that the sheriff would see her in the morning. Jack Rhodes also had called three times. Clay Hartwell's name popped out at her. "Clay Hartwell?" she asked. "Got a clue what he wants?" Brewster thought for a moment. "I imagine he's heard that you've been with Mrs. Tower." The phone jangled the air, and her nerves. She grabbed for it, but Brewster's big hand covered hers. He pushed the speaker button, and intoned like an undertaker, "Good evening." "Miss O'Connell, please," a disembodied voice said. Jack Rhodes. She signaled Brewster that she would talk to Jack. "One moment," Brewster said. He disengaged the telephone's speaker and handed her the receiver. He walked away, saying "Roast beef at nine." What was Brewster up to? That menu was a departure from the norm. She dined late, European fashion, and she ate light, either fish or vegetarian since her morning fare was full of carbs and fat. She took a deep breath to steady nerves that had taken flight at the sound of his voice. "Hello?" "It's Jack Rhodes." "How'd voir dire go today?" "Sorry I had to rush off this morning. Farnham's riding my tail. I'll make it up to you." "No need." "I mean to try. Hope your day improved after I set you free." "It did." "Did you find out who--" "Not yet. I will, though." "I'd bet on it. Find out anything significant?" "Significant? Maybe." "Well, let's talk about it. How about dinner tonight?" "Dinner tonight?" she asked, dry-mouthed. "In all the craziness, perhaps you don't remember me asking you to have dinner last night?" "I do," she said, wondering why she was elated at the prospect of seeing a man she couldn't figure out. "I know it's last minute, but I thought if you've not made plans we might dine together. I called at breaks." "I just got the messages," she said, and realized that Brewster had either divined what the messages were about. Or more likely, Jack had given him a few broad hints, hence Brewster's revised menu. "Why don't you come here?" Sounding pleased, Jack said, "I even know the way." "Come at eight. We'll have a cocktail. Dinner at nine." "Do I have to dress?" "Are you in the habit of eating dinner naked?" "Black tie, it is then. See you at eight." Hanging up, she hated it that she wondered where Jack had been Sunday morning when Royce was shot and killed. Stephantios - Long and Short Reviews Rating = 5 Books Fran Lee's Book Reviews Classic Romance Reviews Rating = 5 Wings Try these related products: E-mail a friend about this item. Join the Desert Breeze Publishing EXCLUSIVE BOOK CLUB!
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