Lies E-Book

B. K. Stubblefield

• Herausgeber: B.K. Stubblefield
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Previously titled:  Beneath the Surface 

They thought the worst was behind them. They were wrong…
Ryan Collins is ready for more. A more fulfilling career, a more permanent connection to his soul mate, a future brighter than his troubled past. But something is holding him back—and it’s not just that he’s the star witness in a court case against dangerous criminals. With so much change coming his way, and so many emotional scars to overcome, is he as ready for a happily ever after with Emily as he thought he was?

Emily Carmichael is struggling. She’s doing everything she can to recover from her physical and psychological wounds, but no matter what she does, she can’t shake her anxiety. Ryan loves her, and she desperately wants to be happy. Or maybe she’s not even capable of happiness anymore. All she knows for sure is she feels like her world is about to crumble around her…

When their demons (both past and present) threaten to destroy what they’ve worked so hard to build, will Ryan and Emily cling to each—and love? Or will dangerous Lies destroy their second chance at true happiness?

Leseprobe

LIES: Book 2 in The Oak Creek Series (Previously titled: Beneath the Surface)

Copyright © 2019 by B. K. Stubblefield. All rights reserved.

Second Edition: January 2022

ISBN:

Developmental edits: Sue Grimshaw/Edits by Sue

Copy edits and proofreading: Sandy Ebel/Personal Touch Editing

Cover Design: Kate Farlow/Y’all That Graphic

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locations, events, business establishments, or actual person—living or dead—is entirely coincidental. No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.Perfect Words and Music by Ed Sheeran, Copyright © 2017 Sony/ATV Music Publishing (UK) Ltd. All Rights Administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 424 Church Street, Suite 1200, Nashville, TN37219 International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted by Permission of Hal Leonard LLC.

Love Happens Anyway

-Rj Scott

Author's Note

Welcome back to Oak Creek, and thank you so much for purchasing LIES.

In the first book, SECRETS, I spent so much time in Emily and Ryan’s head, I knew their story couldn’t end just yet.

You may recall Emily as a sweet and independent woman with a stubborn streak a mile long. Although she adored her parents and her solid family upbringing, the best part of Emily’s childhood may have been the time she spent with her quirky aunt. So, when her Aunt Millie passes away, she drops everything to attend the funeral in the small town of Oak Creek. Never did she expect to inherit her aunt’s entire estate, including Bentley, her massive black Newfoundland dog.

Just as she leaves the estate attorney’s office, an unknown driver bullies her off the road and sends her to the hospital. As doctors tend to her and a romantic connection develops with the handsome Ryan, a confirmed bachelor and Oak Creek resident, Emily racks her brain to figure out who would want her dead. When sparks fly between her and the Good Samaritan who provided comfort and cared for her dog, they team up to solve the mystery. Digging into the crime discloses a dark side to Oak Creek and long-held secrets nobody wants to be revealed.

Emily and Ryan uncover a dreadful truth that brings their small town front and center into the news and their lives in grave danger.

When the nightmare is finally over and Emily’s fallen for Ryan harder than she ever thought possible, Ryan struggles with demons from his past. In Beneath the Surface, find out if this confirmed bachelor will be able to squash their growing voices.

Although LIES can be read as a standalone book, reading Secrets in Oak Creek first will give you more time with Emily and Ryan and the full impact of their life’s journey.

I hope you’ll enjoy visiting with Emily and Ryan, and if you liked their story, please consider leaving a review at your preferred retailer or referring it to your family or friends.

Thank you so much,

B.K. Stubblefield

Contents

1.

Chapter 1

2.

Chapter 2

3.

Chapter 3

4.

Chapter 4

5.

Chapter 5

6.

Chapter 6

7.

Chapter 7

8.

Chapter 8

9.

Chapter 9

10.

Chapter 10

11.

Chapter 11

12.

Chapter 12

13.

Chapter 13

14.

Chapter 14

15.

Chapter 15

16.

Chapter 16

17.

Chapter 17

18.

Chapter 18

19.

Chapter 19

20.

Chapter 20

21.

Chapter 21

22.

Chapter 22

23.

Chapter 23

24.

Chapter 24

25.

Chapter 25

26.

Chapter 26

27.

Chapter 27

28.

Chapter 28

29.

Chapter 29

30.

Chapter 30

31.

Chapter 31

32.

Chapter 32

33.

Chapter 33

34.

Chapter 34

35.

Chapter 35

36.

Chapter 36

37.

Chapter 37

Chapter 1

Ryanhunkeredonthe edge of the chintz-covered armchair, sliding his socked feet into his Chelsea boot’s burnished leather. Like most of the furnishings inside the home, he guessed the time-worn piece had experienced its glory days somewhere in the mid-seventies. His girlfriend, Emily, inherited the home from her aunt and had yet to do any remodeling, but personally, Ryan found the hominess of it oddly charming.

Outside, a palette of magnificent orange and gold spread on the horizon, indicating one of those summerlike days that could pop up in Kentucky in late September. His photographer’s eye couldn’t wait to get some scenery shots. The energetic backyard chatter of animated songbirds chirped and trilled through the open window, a much more appreciated sound than the buses and sirens of New York.

It was good to be home.

Across the hall, the bathroom door opened and slapped shut. About to thrust his right foot into the boot, he glanced up when Emily hobbled into the bedroom with her left leg in the clunky walking boot, a t-shirt bra, and boy short panties, her damp hair twisted up and kept together by a large clip.

Their eyes met in a muted exchange. Areyou all right?

A slight rise of Emily’s eyebrows and a nod of her head acknowledged his unspoken question. Her gaze jumped to the open window.

“It’s going to be a gorgeous day.” She smiled. The gentle breeze of crisp morning air gave her goosebumps. She rubbed her arms as she moved toward the antique walnut dresser next to his chair.

Though she hadn’t responded directly to what rested on his mind, her full smile revealed she’d taken a giant step toward emotional healing.

Leaning into the chair, he gave her a mental high five. With a slow exhale, his pent-up tension released. Yes, Emily would be all right… eventually. Despite her lovely smile, he suspected it would take some time to close the emotional scars.

Just three days ago, Emily and Ryan had poked their noses into some hazardous dealings they had no business investigating, but as the old saying goes, desperate times called for desperate measures. Nipping on the heels of a dogfighting operation on Joseph Maynard’s property certainly fit the definition of desperate. In hindsight, staking out an old barn on the outskirts of town like a pair of seasoned sleuthhounds hadn’t been a bright idea. Of course, they had cooked up an exit plan should they have to break away in a hot minute. Only their strategy collapsed under a mountain of danger neither of them could have expected. In an instant, Emily had vanished.

Sucked into a black void.

Abducted.

Tucked inside in a single-wide trailer and tied to a ratty bed by her captor.

While Emily tried to escape her bonds, Ryan frantically searched every dip in the terrain for a clue that would aid in finding her. Fortunately, a police task force swooped in under the cover of darkness. After it was all over and the operation shut down, the police had apprehended a drug bust that shocked Oak Creek’s citizens to their root.

“Did you sleep all right?” Emily asked, carving through his pensive thoughts.

Threading his fingers behind his neck, Ryan offered her a pleasant smile.

“Well, babe, you didn’t hear that steam engine rolling through the room last night?”

“No, I didn’t,” Emily huffed, tossing him a blazing glare.

Last night, he’d shaken her out of a nightmare once, so when she sawed logs like a master woodcutter, he only tapped her shoulder and couldn’t bear to wake her up when she continued to snore.

He teased, expecting to draw a ha-ha out of her. Instead, when she reached into the dresser drawer and flung something at him, he ducked, barely escaping a soft rubber ball. Who in their right mind kept rubber balls in a dresser? The ball rebounded, and Bentley, Emily’s oversized Newfoundland, charged into the room.

“Of course. Only you have balls in a dresser.” He snickered.

“Watch it, mister.” Emily looked over her shoulder with her eyebrows pulled into a solid line, but a cheeky smile tugged at her mouth. “Tell me again the soft rhythm of my breathing sounds like a freight train, and I’ll be delighted to arrange your balls next to Bentley’s.”

“Ouch.” Ryan frowned, though he loved the lighthearted banter. “I go for keeping them right where they are, babe, and if you want me to stick around another night, we can’t have them hopping around in a drawer.”

Emily rolled her eyes.

He finger-combed his black waves, wiggling a brow. Yes, her sassy attitude was coming back, and it eased his mind.

Her back turned to Ryan, Emily rummaged through a drawer, plucked out a t-shirt, and held it up for inspection. I can & I will, the imprint read.

“Yep... this is perfect,” she said, looking at the shirt as if it held magic powers.

Ryan didn’t miss the pep zinging in her tone or the purpose ringing in her voice. He saw the steadfast resolution in the curve of her spine, and his rib cage melted with relief. This spunky woman slipped into his once die-hard bachelor heart just a little over a month ago. She’d been through a lot, and he wanted to support her any way he could.

He was falling fast.

“Excellent choice, baby,” he said when she turned her back to the dresser, then stepped away with the shirt in her hand. When she was next to his chair, his hands circled her waist and drew her onto his lap before the t-shirt slipped over her head.

“Ryan!” Emily shrieked, giving him a playful slap. “I need to get dressed.”

Destiny had given her one shitty hand on the heels of another, but this morning, Emily appeared determined to seize the day. This was a fork in the road, and something bright spiked his blood like an extra shot of oxygen. As she wiggled out of his grasp and bounced to her feet, the memories of what she’d encountered rushed into his mind and twisted his stomach anew.

Although her gutsy resilience astounded him, Emily went through hell and back at the hands of Joe Maynard—a gambling, wife-beating, and drug-dealing criminal. He had stalked and trapped her after catching her snooping on his farm. On top of the drug dealing, the creep regularly provided a secure place for local dogfighters—it was all quite surreal for the little town of Oak Creek.

Nightmares followed them both, Emily the most. Ryan had been at a loss, trying to figure out how to help her get past this ordeal. Did she want to talk about it? He’d probed, but she shook her head, not wanting to go there. He mentioned professional counseling, and she shut him down. Stubborn to a fault, Emily had stashed her feelings until last night—when the lid blew off and the veneer of her soul cracked. She’d broken down at last. The minute he understood what was taking place, his heart felt like a pincushion, pricked by thousands of needles at once.

They’d been watching TV, an old Friends episode, the one where a co-worker ate Ross’s sandwich, and Ross wasn’t happy about it. He hadn’t noticed the wetness on Emily’s cheek until she suddenly flung an arm around his waist and planted her face in his chest. Everything she’d tightly wrapped on the inside for two days gushed out in great, shaking sobs as streams of water flooded from her eyes.

Why or what in this episode had triggered the meltdown, he had no clue. Was it the drama Ross made about the sandwich? Not that Ryan cared what caused her to crash. The release was a balm to Emily’s fractured soul. Although he paid little attention to psychiatric babble, he perceived while she was coming unglued, she was also dealing with her darkest emotions.

He’d folded her into his arms and rubbed circles on her back until the hiccups abated and her body quit shaking. Never had he felt so powerless or so guilty. Christ, why had he even contemplated the harebrained notion of playing amateur sleuth? He admitted getting into a few stupid situations in his time, but he’d failed Emily, and that sat on his mind like a ton of bricks. Had he paid closer attention to his surroundings, Joe would have been a hurting son of a bitch before he had a chance to set his grubby hands on her.

Fuck… none of this should have happened.

After Emily had been examined at the ER, a nurse gave her a mild sedative. Once he took her home and she’d settled into bed, he’d made it clear until she was ready to boot him out, she wouldn’t have to spend a single night alone in the big house, but after three nights of getting little shuteye, Ryan was antsy to collapse in his own bed again. Like the chair he was sitting in, the mattress on Emily’s bed was as lumpy as a sack of straw, and his back ached. Since her aunt had passed away in August, Emily had changed nothing inside the ancient farmhouse she’d inherited six weeks ago.

“You and Bentley could hang out at my house until—” he added, turning serious.

“No, Ry.” Emily whirled on her heels, cutting off his words. “I’ll be fine,” she smiled, softening her tone. I’m grateful you spent the last three days and nights with me, but I know you have things to do. Work for one. I understand it’s more difficult to work away from home, as you have.

“Don’t worry, Emily.”

“No, Ryan, I can’t let the memories of Joe get to me. I’ll be all right.” The striking deep hues of her cornflower eyes darkened as she clasped the t-shirt to her chest. Her gaze drilled into his.

Even though her voice carried strong, he sensed a vulnerability behind the declaration that sounded a little like a self-pep talk.

They’d been together since a car forced her off the road in late August, one week after she buried her aunt. He couldn’t have been prepared for the attraction he felt from the moment he carried her from the crashed vehicle. Maybe that was one reason he agreed to care for her dog while Emily recovered at the hospital. Afterward, their friendship grew, and instant chemistry blossomed. She rocked his world when mutual passion overrode his bachelor’s mind. For the past four weeks, they were inseparable. Filled with want, need, and the desire to spend all their time together, the romance was new, exciting, and intoxicating like a shot of fine bourbon. Although as close as they’d been, they were still testing boundaries, weighing the relationship.

“Emmy, you don’t have to be so tough on yourself.”

“Ryan.” Her voice was muffled as she pulled the shirt over her head. Tugging on the hem, Emily stepped to where Ryan sat with elbows on his thighs and propped her hand on her hip. “Honestly, I need to step out of this funk, so why not start today?”

He saw the conflicted emotions travel across her face, but she held her head at a defiant angle and jabbed a finger into the air.

“I can’t sneak around my home any longer, as if Joe wasn’t locked up.” With a sweep of her fingers, she pushed her hair behind her right ear. “I’d rather poke my eye out with an icepick than let this asshat slide under my skin one more day… or night.” Damn right, Emily was coming back to her old self, stomping and kicking. Despite Joe’s savage abuse, the fear and pain hadn’t tamped out her fiercely independent spirit.

“All right, if you’re sure that’s what you want.” He gave her an encouraging smile. The image of Emily rising from the bottom of the emotional dumpster made him happy, though he was concerned this turnaround may be a bit too soon. Either way, it lifted the tension in his chest.

“Dang it, Ryan.” Heat colored her cheeks pink. “What happened at the barn can’t turn me into mush with fear. I won’t let it. Joe’s in jail, and I don’t want to think about him anymore. I won’t be a fearful, scared girl, afraid of her own shadow. I need to deal with this now before it gets the best of me.” As if to emphasize her point, she tossed a handful of hair over her shoulder. “Please, tell me you understand.”

“Emily, I understand, but maybe you should slow down a bit. I just want to be here for you, babe, if you need me.” Ryan guessed her fierce reaction came on the heels of his offer to stay another night. His warrior woman was captivating. With flames sputtering in her eyes, she looked so freaking sexy with her boy shorts peeking from under the t-shirt and the flush rising up her chest. She was driving him crazy.

Ryan wasn’t so sure he wanted to sleep without Emily snuggling into him tonight, but he accepted her need to mark a turning point.

Emily’s show of temper exhausted as swiftly as it had flared. With a lift of her chin, the beginning of a smile tipped the corners of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Ry, I just lost it for a second. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Forgive me? I just want to get this nightmare behind me.” She nodded toward Bentley, who’d spread out in his corner spot. “I will admit, though, I feel better having my security guard sleeping right next to me.”

Ryan speculated whether she was trying to reassure him or herself.

“Okay, Ryan, what’s with the grin? What’s so funny?”

A gleam stole into his eyes. “You, babe.” Mindful of her bandaged wrists, he drew her back onto his lap with strong but gentle hands.

“Ry,” she yelped, but this time, she wiggled her bottom and coiled into his embrace.

“Seriously, Emmy? Let me get this right,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “You’d rather sleep next to your hairy bodyguard than with me? How can you be so heartless?” Drawing back, he searched her eyes and feigned shock.

With the tension dissipated, Emily chuckled at his antics.

“I’m okay. I’m truly sorry for snapping at you. I just think there’s no better time than the present to get back on track. Besides, I know you have a lot of work to catch up on.”

“You’ll call me if you change your mind.” His fingers tenderly strummed across her back. “It’s not a question, Emmy,” he said when she just hummed.

“Okay,” she muttered.

His lips grazed her eyelids, and the lemony perfume of her hair, the scent of her heated skin, the feel of her delightful butt in his lap thickened his blood.

Since Friday, she’d slept curled against him, reaching out to him when he shifted aside a fraction. Finding consolation in the closeness, he supposed. While it was inviting to let his hands explore every fold of her smooth skin, the whimpers of her nightmares meant he’d merely kept her safe in his embrace. After hearing what Joe had planned for her on that seedy bed in his rundown trailer, he let her take the lead in intimacy. Despite that, when one hand glided to the back of his neck, and the tip of her finger traced the seam of his lips, his boxers tightened with the awareness she still craved him as much as he craved her.

Her lips parted, and a husky groan rumbled from a place deep inside him. His lips closed over hers and drew her into a slow, tender kiss. Their mouths were a perfect fit. He scraped his teeth along the delicious column of her neck, and a thousand volts of electricity sizzled through his veins as her low moan shivered against his skin.

Ryan rose from the chair, lifting Emily with him, and took two long strides to the bed, settling her onto the disheveled sheets they left less than an hour ago. Kicking off his boots and losing his jeans, he peeled the scanty garments off her body. Slow and tender as the kisses they shared, he entered her, his gaze dropping into the meadows of her cornflower eyes. In the unspoken language of lovemaking, he let her know this time was all about her. When Emily’s body tensed and his name shuddered from her lips, the pleasure pulsing through her entire being no doubt erased everything else from her mind.

Two hours and a pot of coffee later, he left Emily, doubting he could ever keep away from this gorgeous, feisty, and headstrong woman or that he even wished to. He’d fallen in love with Emily, and the words he thought would never cross his lips had slipped out in an unguarded moment.

As he slid behind the wheel of his Range Rover, a snarky voice rose from the depths of his soul, and for one beat of his heart, he wondered if he was good enough for this amazing woman.

At ten-fifteen that morning, Ryan traveled the short distance to the courthouse.

Tom Henley’s arraignment had been scheduled for eleven o’clock, and he was eager to hear if the judge considered Tom a flight risk and held him in jail or if he’d grant bail.

Not only had the police busted a notorious local dogfighting ring, but in the larger context of the raid, they’d exposed Joe’s property as a distribution point that would flood the surrounding rural areas with heroin and other illegal substances. Even though the raid at Maynard’s farm had been the thunderstorm on the ground, it was the arrest of the distinguished CPA Tom Henley that rotated through Oak Creek like a funnel cloud.

Tom had been cuffed and hauled off to jail.

Though Oak Creek wasn’t that tiny anymore, it was the type of town folks described as tranquil, sleepy, and historical. The place where one could step back in time and soak up small-town traditions, but Friday night’s police raid had cracked the foundation of this charming southern town wide open, leaking a putrid stench of greed and corruption.

Caught in the center of a long-kept secret, the news of Tom’s money-laundering role in the sleazy drug business spread with the speed of a tornado. At the breakfast table over bacon and eggs and at offices, barbershops, and coffeehouses all across town, Tom’s fate was the main topic of gossip. Suspicion ran rampant. Everyone had a theory why Tom had crossed the line to the dark side, though no one knew for sure. Ryan had never cared for the pompous fellow, but Tom was an outstanding accountant, and Ryan knew firsthand since he’d been his client.

Being at the wrong place at the wrong time had made Ryan a witness to the biggest drug seizure in Oak County. He’d testify in Henley’s trial… hell, he wanted to testify against that pretentious son of a bitch.

As swiftly as the news of Henley’s, Maynard’s, and a guy known as Little C’s arrests had blazed through town, a false sense of security settled over Oak Creek once more.

Inside the Justice Center, Ryan located the courtroom and walked into the subdued chatter of spectators. Local and major affiliate newspaper reporters crowded the room. He’d expected it. Still, Oak Creek had been plunged beyond the local spotlight, and the attention this perturbing news garnered seemed surreal.

As the number of reporters confirmed, Tom’s engagement in the drug and money-laundering operations was a dramatic development and an aspiring news reporter’s wet dream.

Ryan let his gaze drift across the room as he picked a seat on the last row of wooden benches. Besides the newshounds, he recognized a few familiar townsfolk. Yep, the circus had rolled into town.

In front of him, two gangly fellows slouched in their seats, their voices held to a whisper. Regardless of the background noise, Ryan unintentionally picked up a few fragments of their discussion. Students, most likely criminal justice, these real-life proceedings about to start with Henley’s imminent arraignment provided a much greater lecture than any textbook studies could. Without a doubt, this was a compelling case to follow.

Behind the rectangular oak table at the front of the room, Henley’s lawyer appeared busy poring over a file. What could he be so intently looking for as he waited for the proceedings to start? The fellow was unreadable. Calm and dissociated, he leafed through sheets of notes, unimpressed by the crowd behind him. It wasn’t long before a uniformed law enforcement officer escorted Tom into the courtroom.

Holy cow, how three days in jail had altered the CPA’s appearance. Ryan nearly didn’t recognize him. Gray skin against the orange jumpsuit made the man look sickly, and his mousy brown hair—stripped of the daily use of pomade—clung in dull strands to his scalp. Far from his smart image mere days ago, Tom looked even slighter than his five-foot plus a few inches implied.

As the electrical current of anticipation zapped through the courtroom, Ryan thought of Emily and her tremendous spunk and moxie, speculating how she would emotionally handle being a witness in Joe’s trial. It would ultimately come to that, and he was sure she’d find the wherewithal to send the bastard to jail with her testimony.

The chatter ended suddenly when the bailiff raised her voice and announced the judge’s entrance. Feet shuffled as the chamber door opened, and everyone stood.

Proceedings started promptly. Tom Henley and his attorney pushed to their feet, their facial expressions as animated as wax figures. The judge explained the charges, and his attorney responded with, “Not guilty, Your Honor.”

Contempt coiled in Ryan’s gut, but he cautioned himself; even Tom was innocent until found guilty, though Ryan knew different. He’d been at the site of the crime and had captured the man’s involvement with his camera. Ryan was one-thousand percent positive his pictures, along with his witness statement, would assist the prosecution in getting the maximum prison time for Tom. He almost felt something like pity for the accountant.

To Ryan, the entire court session was dry and seemed rehearsed. He guessed the procedures were much the same in all instances, no matter the extent of the crime. Surprise registered with a low-pitched gasp when the judge awarded bail and set the full cash bond at $100,000. Just like that, the hearing was over, and the police officer led Tom out of the room.

Drawing the key fob from his jeans pocket, Ryan passed through the automated glass doors of the courthouse. In the parking lot, someone bumped into him, causing him to stumble.

“Hey, watch it!” Ryan said, twisting around. Instinct immediately flashed bad news.

A dude, thin and wiry, his black eyes shifty, crowded his space. Whoa! No accident. Clad in all black, the stranger sported several tattoos on his shaved skull, scrawny neck, and left side of his face. Gang tattoos? Ryan knew little about that sort of thing, and although there had been no known groups of thugs in their small town, anything was possible. Coal-black eyes glinted and flicked ominously in a pockmarked face.

Had this guy been inside the courthouse? Ryan didn’t think so. He would have stuck out like a raven among a flock of sparrows. With Ryan’s mind on the indictment and not paying attention to others leaving the building with him, Tattoo Face had turned up out of nowhere.

“Eh, shutterbug, piece of advice—keep your trap shut.” The guy had the audacity to wink. “Know what I mean?”

He disappeared before Ryan got around to react, but not before he saw the coldness in the man’s dark, flickering eyes.

What the hell? Irritation spread like poison ivy, leaving Ryan baffled by the guy’s remarks. The muscles in his face tightened with anger. This dude had not smacked into him by mistake. Oh no, it was a clear warning concerning his testimony in Henley’s impending trial. Ryan’s witness statement would back up the prosecutor’s charges brought against Henley, and the photographs he’d taken would cement the case. Isn’t that what he’d thought less than two minutes ago? Awareness prickled his neck. This was an attempt to silence him—to keep him from testifying when Henley stood trial.

Ryan scanned the parking lot, but Tattoo Face had vanished.

Jesus, it wouldn’t have been difficult to identify Ryan as the guy who’d nearly blown the police raid. Damn the news outlets who’d named him and Emily in the same sentence with Joe and Tom. They’d put them in harm’s way unnecessarily. Ryan unlocked the Rover, puzzling over who the hell the tatted dude was and how he’d known Ryan would show up at court this morning.

Did it matter? Nope, but the strange encounter was beyond weird. Christ, Tom Henley didn’t even have a trial date yet. No two ways about it; when the prosecution called on him, he’d do his damnedest to help send Henley to a government-paid bed-and-breakfast. Emily flashed through his mind. Should he tell her? She’d testify in her own case against Joe Maynard, and sharing this incident with her would just scare her all over again.

No, the threat was directed at him—no sense worrying her when she’s just starting to feel back to herself. This was about Ryan and his case, so no, he wouldn’t bother Emily with it.

Chapter 2

Onefinalsnipwith the pruning shears, and Emily stepped back to appraise her handy work. Face bright pink and her neck sweaty from tackling the scruffy rosebushes growing along the foundation of her home, she marveled at the resilience of the red beauties still clinging to their prickly stems. With the back of her hand, she swiped a strand of hair from her forehead, leaving a streak of dirt in its trail.

Since Ryan went to follow Tom’s arraignment this morning, she’d puttered around the yard, busying her hands and mind. Dried-up annuals in large planters on the front porch needed plucking, and the rose bushes were long overdue for a trim. Remarkable how wonderful it felt to be outside in her yard, yanking weeds and doing fall gardening chores in the late September sun.

Emily squinted, and her gaze drifted from the roses to the porch. Maybe tomorrow, she’d drive to the garden center to spruce up the porch with colorful mums and asters.

My home, she reflected, and for the first time since learning she’d inherited her aunt’s farmhouse, she felt at peace. Emily smiled. The old house required a makeover badly, and soon she’d contact restoration contractors to obtain estimates and decide whose rehab vision best matched her own.

From the top of her driveway, the purr of an engine carried on the soft breeze. What? She’d expected her friend, Keira, to show up around five o’clock, but it couldn’t be five already, could it? Turning toward the sound, Emily shielded her eyes and grinned when she looked at the Volkswagen Beetle rolling down her driveway.

Bentley recognized the sound of the engine and trudged from around the corner of the house with his tail swooshing. The second Keira stepped out of the car and scooted the driver’s seat forward, two medium brown mutts leaped out in a knotted mess. Excited to be loose from the restraints of the yellow sardine can, their muscular bodies loped and bounced toward Emily, joined by Bentley. Like trained bloodhounds, they’d picked up a scent of the small treats tucked away in the pocket of Emily’s shorts.

“Hey, Emily!” Keira’s voice cut through the dogs’ noise.

Emily waved as she lifted her eyebrows in an amused smile. As sure as her little bug was sunflower yellow, a Mossy Oak shirt and tight-fitting jeans stretched across her friend’s curvaceous figure, a pair of riding boots completing the outfit. Only Keira could pull off this outdoorsy gear and look feminine and sexy.

Funny, her friend didn’t give a flip about fashion. As if proving the point, she’d shown up to her photoshoot with Ryan—a fundraiser for Barkville Rescue—in this exact get-up. He’d winced, teasingly calling her the queen of country glitz. Paying no attention to his taunt, Keira smirked, curled her arms around her hounds, and adjusted their matching camouflage bandannas. Just as the shutter clicked, she beamed a smile and flipped Ryan both middle fingers, but in the end, he’d captured her uncomplicated essence in a stunning set of photos.

“Keira!”

“Oh, sweetie, are you okay?” Keira rushed forward and squeezed Emily into a solid hug. Strands of strawberry curls framed her face and touched her shoulders, having escaped the simple ponytail clasp.

“If I was any better, I’d be doing hand flips,” Emily blurted from under Keira’s bear hug, her voice sounding muffled. “Hey, you’re squeezing me to death.” Emily peeled herself from the tight embrace with a lopsided grin, knowing just how deeply her friend cared.

Keira tipped her head to the side and peeked at Emily with a questioning look that pierced through the fragility of Emily’s statement.

Emily sighed, knowing her friend’s BS indicator was like a needle moving on a highly sensitive metal detector when hitting pay dirt. She and this dynamic woman had become besties after Emily had rushed to Oak Creek to bury her aunt. Next to Ryan, Keira was the only other person Emily traded her innermost secrets with. Except staking out Joe’s property. That little tidbit she’d kept all to herself. When the news of the drug bust and Emily’s abduction hit the airwaves, Keira had reached out to her friend right away, but now was the first time they’d seen each other since then.

“I’m fine.” Emily peeled back her loose-fitting garden gloves and stretched out her forearms, displaying the bandages above her hands. “Except these.”

“Ow, Emmy!” Keira pulled a face, sucking air through clenched teeth. “Girl, you’re one lovely sight—pruning roses with your wrists dressed in bandages and that swanky aircast on your foot.” Her jade green eyes reflected concern as they met Emily’s.

“Oh, Keira, you’re such a mother hen. It’s okay. The cuts are covered and healing just fine,” Emily reassured her friend, but the ropes had cut deep. “Except this maddening itch that’s driving me nuts. It feels a hundred times worse than poison ivy,” she said, scrubbing her wrists together to find relief. “The leg, well… I thought I had reinjured it, but it feels better today. Plus, who wants to stay inside on a lovely day like this?” Raising her face to the sky, she filled her lungs with the scent of the sun-drenched air. “Who knows how much longer it will last?”

Keira inhaled and nodded. “Yep, good point.”

After a bit, letting the dogs enjoy a run on the grounds, Emily and Keira went inside. They settled on the broad sofa in the outdated family room with a large pepperoni pizza they’d had delivered between them. The dogs were sprawled out on the floor, petered out after their energetic game of chase. Bentley’s eyes rolled back into his head, his back paws twitched. Keira’s dogs, Boomer and Diesel, were spread out on their bellies, their eyes glued to the steaming hot pie. Once again, Emily was thankful for her friend, who she’d bonded with from the moment they’d met when Emily was in the hospital. Bless her—from toiletries and magazines to two sets of clothes, Keira had thought of everything an indisposed woman would need. Emily had to smile at the t-shirts and shorts that had been a size too large on her slender frame. For all their outward differences, Emily’s cool blonde hair and blue eyes stood in opposition to the green-eyed strawberry blonde. Emily thought of Keira as the sister she didn’t have.

Tilting her head, Emily mused between nibbles of hot, tasty pizza, “Gosh, I can’t believe it’s only been a month and a half since we met at Millie’s funeral for the first time. Somehow it seems like we’ve known each other forever.”

“Maybe we’ve met in another lifetime?” Not expecting an answer in return, Keira groaned and closed her eyes for a second. “Mm-hmm, this is so good, I could weep.” Her eyes settled on Emily’s face once again. “Okay, girl, wanna talk? I’m burning to find out what happened Friday night, but more than that, I’m curious how you and Ryan got snarled up in this clusterfuck.” Ready to hear Emily’s account of the events, Keira scooted her butt deep into the cushions, drew up her legs, letting her boot-clad feet hang off the edge of the sofa, and shot Emily an expectant look.

For a snippet of time, Emily considered whether she was ready to recall and describe the nightmare of the stakeout. Dusk settled, and the silence lengthened as neither woman said anything. Emily was sure her friend wouldn’t criticize her mistakes, yet revealing what she’d kept to herself felt a little like a confession.

Emily lifted her chin and looked directly at her friend as the words rushed out, keeping nothing back. From the pivotal discovery of Aunt Millie investigating a dogfighting ring—which Keira already knew about—to spying on Joe’s property and her abduction, leaving out no detail.

“Keira… Joe’s rickety barn was busier than Grand Central Station. You wouldn’t believe the ridiculous number of cars, SUVs, and pickups that moved in and lined up. They were packed with caged dogs… fighting dogs!”

“Dear God.” Keira closed her eyes, sorrow pinching her face.

“Our strategy was tight. At least that’s what Ryan and I thought. We’d just observe from a distance, and if something turned up—drugs or dogfights—we’d notify the police. You know?” A hint of self-doubt wobbled in Emily’s voice, and she guessed Keira sensed it, too. “But the barn door light was awfully poor for Ryan to pick up a clear shot from a distance with his camera, so he slipped from the car and shoved through rows and rows of tall corn to get closer. Ryan had no clue the slimy bastard attacked me until he came back to the Rover with the evidence we needed and found me missing. He knew right away that something was wrong when I wasn’t there waiting for him.”

As Emily thought of the incident, icy fingers slid up her spine, and a fist gripped her stomach. The reminder of the horrid ordeal was too fresh. She snatched her glass from the table and gulped the water to steady her nerves.

Keira shifted and wiggled in place with half a million questions in her eyes but listened quietly. Though she saw her friend’s eyes pop open in horror and disbelief etch across her face as Emily described the moment she came to realize her wrists were bound to the headboard of a bed, with Joe smirking down at her. Keira’s chin dropped, and for the first time Emily could recall, her friend appeared speechless.

Leaning across the sofa, Keira hugged Emily. “I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she sputtered. When she drew back, Emily saw the question in Keira’s eyes before the words passed over her lips. “Em, why didn’t you tell anyone what you were getting yourself into? Why didn’t you tell me? I’m your friend!”

Glancing at the plate of pizza she held on her lap, Emily rubbed her forehead. Had there been a smidgen of disapproval in her friend’s questions?

“God, Keira, I wanted to tell you so bad.” Her voice shook as she brought her gaze to Keira’s eyes and touched a hand to her heart. A shudder rippled across Emily’s shoulders, and she got up to slip into the lightweight hoodie lying across the recliner.

“Staking out the barn was insanely risky,” she said, dropping back onto the sofa. “We kept it quiet because we didn’t want to drag you or anyone from Barkville into it.” Despite the knot growing in her throat, a teasing smile tucked at the corners of Emily’s mouth. “Besides, well-meaning friends might have talked us out of it. You know what I mean?” Keira rolled her eyes, and Emily chuckled, aware she’d hit the mark. “Uh-huh, that’s what I thought.” With her emotions settled, she continued, “Looking into the rearview mirror, playing detectives was a bird-brained thing to do.”

“And damn dangerous,” Keira agreed.

As if she needed reminding. Since the comment hadn’t carried the vibe of a rebuke, Emily let it pass.

“We went there to get solid proof for the police, but they didn’t seem too concerned with what I reported. If something had turned up—drugs or dogfights—we were going to call them.”

“Sweet baby Jesus! That’s quite the story, girl.” Shaking her head, Keira took Emily’s hands into hers, and her gaze passed from bandaged wrists to Emily’s face. The green in her pupils deepened as a storm welled in the depths of her eyes. “Bastard. I can’t even imagine what kind of hell that must have been!” Her words sliced, hot and furious.

“When I inherited this house, I made two promises to my deceased aunt. One, I’d move to Oak Creek and restore this house, and two, I’d honor her legacy by continuing with her animal rescue mission. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined my sweet little aunt’s undercover work would expose a terrible secret tucked away on the outskirts of our town.”

Keira released Emily’s hands, an uplifting smile curving her lips.

“Sweetie, you are so much like her. You know that?”

“I guess,” Emily shoved off the sofa with a great sigh, busying herself, collecting paper plates and napkins. Growing up, Aunt Millie’s home had been Emily’s home away from home. The memories of living with her mom at her aunt’s farm until Mom married and they moved to Fort Drum were etched in her memory. She’d missed the house with a hundred nooks and crannies to hide in, her aunt’s encouragement to explore her art, and the always present dogs. She missed it like crazy and had visited every summer since her mom married her stepdad. Being a military man, the orders to Fort Drum had come less than a year later.

“I get it, Emmy. You couldn’t let it pass, so you finished what she’d started.”

Emily smiled, happy and relieved her friend understood and wasn’t about to preach or reprimand her.

“How could I not?” Emily looked up from putting the napkins and plates inside the empty pizza box. “I knew what I knew, and if the police had taken me a little more seriously…” She shrugged, letting the train of thought hang in the air. “I had to get the proof myself.”

“Girl, I can understand that.” Keira, pressing her palm over her heart. “You did what you had to, but you had no clue the stakes were sky-high.”

“Well,”—Emily snapped the lid shut—”I didn’t pay attention. I hate to admit it, but officer Woodard warned me of the danger. ’Stay away from Joe’s property,′ he’d said. He couldn’t have said it any clearer.”

“Em, are you all right?”

Something in Emily’s tone must have alerted her friend, but Keira’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and Emily realized she’d been staring at the pizza box in her hand. Looking into her friend’s eyes, she spoke softly.

“It felt like an eternity, being tied up, worrying about what might come next. I fought, and I prayed, but when someone kicked down the door, I thought this was it for me. I didn’t know it was the police.”

“Sweetie, are you sure you’re okay?”

The dogs yawned, stretched, and got to their feet. Three pairs of brown eyes trained on Emily holding the box, and it grounded her into the present.

“Yes. I’ll be fine.” There was a resolution in her tone that left no space for debate. She’d be okay again… in time. Until then, she wouldn’t admit to feeling as glum as the shadows of the nightmare creeping inside her.

Evening came quickly, and Keira grabbed her keys.

“I need to go home, feed these boys, and prepare for tomorrow.” Keira taught math and science at Oak Creek Middle school.

As Emily made her way to the front door, she turned on every light. Brightness flooded the first floor, while outside nightfall spread its inky cloak across the sky. The dogs rushed outside as soon as Emily opened the front door. On the porch, Keira drew her into another warm hug.

“Call if you need anything,” she said as she gave an extra squeeze.

“Thanks, I will,” Emily said and stepped back.

Keira went to her Bug, waiting for the furry ones to finish their business while Emily stood inside the door frame. She hugged her elbows, seeking warmth, and knew it wasn’t only the chill in the air causing her skin to prickle.

With Diesel and Boomer piled in the car’s backseat, Keira turned to Emily. Her forehead creased as she shot Emily a quizzical look.

“Emmy, do you want me to stay?”

Had Keira picked up on her unease? Emily dropped her arms and assumed a confident stance, pasting a smile to her lips and hoping it would squash her friend’s worries. Her answer was the same as it had been to Ryan this morning.

“Thanks, sweetie, but I’m good.” She puckered her lips into a kissy-face and added, “You’re an angel.”

Under the circumstances, wasn’t it natural to feel a little skittish? Her aunt’s passing had offered her the opportunity for a fresh start, but since arriving in Oak Creek, she’d plunged into an abyss of uncertainty and instability. Enough already. She’d embrace her new beginning—starting today.

Tugging on the sleeves of her hoodie, she dragged them over her knuckles.

“I’ll have to work out a routine—figure out what that might be. You know? Anyway, I won’t be by myself.” She’d reached for the dog who’s sidled up to her and ruffled the fur on his thick neck. “Right, Bentley?”

“All right, Emmy. If you need anything at all, you know I’m just a phone call away.”

As the quirky little car turned around in the driveway, Emily shut the door, locking out the night. Her pulse quickened with the memories swirling inside her brain. “It’s over,” Ryan had said, and she reminded herself of that.

Joe was in jail until his trial. EMTs, nurses, doctors, even Officer Woodard had offered their support with inspiring words. They’d called her brave, but she wasn’t fearless. Tonight, in the big house alone, she admitted, if only to herself, the darkness unnerved her, but with Bentley as her companion, she’d get over it.

Time to put the chilling incident behind her, return to her office tasks, and establish a routine. Focus on what’s important, her business. As a freelance graphic designer, she’d accepted a contract she needed to finalize. Tomorrow she’d finish the cover design for a children’s book, then get busy searching for a home renovation contractor.

Before Emily moved to Oak Creek, she’d rented a modest apartment in the small lake village, Sackets Harbor, in upstate New York. It was a cozy space, and while it provided the room she needed to work, she’d dreamed of a spacious office instead of a converted bedroom corner. Thanks to Millie’s inheritance, she was about to make her dream come true, envisioning a calm and inspiring space.

One by one, Emily flipped off the lights as she scaled the stairs to the second floor. Deliberate and willful, she braced against the weight that clogged her chest and threatened to take away her breath.

For the past three nights, she’d slept with her back curled against Ryan’s chest. Inside his arms, she’d felt protected and safe, and when she dreamed about Joe, Ryan’s strong hands were shaking her awake. Tonight, she’d be alone in her bed—her choice—but would she be able to fall asleep without snuggling her backside into him as he tugged her close?

In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, then opened the mirrored medicine cabinet where amber containers in various sizes crammed two shelves. Most had belonged to her late aunt, but she reached for the prescription she got after her car crash. Emily loosened the cap and shook a tablet into her palm. The pill would help her relax and slide into sleep. Sweet dreams. She gulped a swig of water, washing down the sleeping aid. Aunt Millie used to say, ‘After every cloud comes sunshine.’ True.

Tomorrow would be a new day, another day further from her fears.

Chapter 3

Thenextmorning,Ryan backed the Range Rover out of the garage, thinking about Emily. He hoped she’d had a decent night without seeing Joe’s face in yet another nightmare.

As the garage door rolled down, the clock showed barely seven-thirty, but Emily had texted roughly twenty minutes earlier. Since she slipped out of bed at the crack of dawn most mornings, it wasn’t unusual to get a text that early. The message had given no indication of a sleepless night, just that she missed waking up to the soundtrack of his snorts, with a row of laughing-tears emojis tacked on. Ryan chuckled, remembering her reaction to his snoring comment from the day before. As if… Then she fessed up with another text, saying she’d missed his good-morning kiss, adding a kissy-face. Okay, much better. Sure, the playfulness of the text made him smile, though he wasn’t convinced the dreams that made her whimper during the night had suddenly stopped.

Admittedly, he hadn’t pressed too hard when Emily passed on his offer to stay another night. He’d been at her home for three days and nights straight, hesitant to leave her to analyze and stew over what had gone wrong at the barn, and he would do it for as long as it took to make her feel secure and safe again. He loved this woman and would protect her as best he could. Yet he’d craved to crash in his own bed. Then why was it that when he stretched out alone in the king-sized bed, he missed having her in his arms, her smooth skin against his? As much as it puzzled him, he’d even missed the errant strands of blond hair tickling his nose and sticking to his lips.

How ironic that just a few weeks ago, he’d preferred to sleep alone. Preferred superficial hook-ups over diving into the deep end of a relationship. Ryan thought back to the early evening he’d returned home from a fashion shoot in New York City. Traveling behind a Toyota 4-Runner on I-65, he watched as the woman driving the vehicle lost control and crashed down an embankment. He’d been first on the scene, providing comfort. He hadn’t been aware of it, but when the lady pleaded for help, latching her deep-blue gaze on him, his armor had slipped for the first time. While waiting for the ambulance, he’d comforted her. Emily Carmichael, he later had learned was her name, had recently moved to Oak Creek, his hometown. What were the odds? He’d held her hand and kept her alert, and something powerful he couldn’t name pulled him like a mighty magnet. A car crash had brought them together, and his presumed fate of being a professional bachelor was about to be torn to shreds.

Had someone predicted Ryan in a romantic relationship, he’d have laughed it off as a joke. This kind of commitment was something he didn’t want in his life. The mere thought of it made his skin itch, but each time he saw Emily, his resolve slipped a little more. He’d struggled against these unexpected feelings twisting his insides. Not a good idea, his mind had cautioned.He’d distanced himself from Emily, tried to stop seeing her—that never happened. None of it had kept him from falling in love with her. Damn if he could explain it, but fate must have a twisted sense of humor.

As Ryan pulled out of the driveway, the blazing sun swiftly replaced the hues of pink and orange on the horizon. Squinting into the bright morning light, he returned his neighbor’s wave as she dashed from her house in jogging pants, adjusting tiny earbuds in her ears.

He craved a steaming cup of java. Turning right onto Main Street, he flipped down the visor against the rising sun hitting his windshield and blinding him. The stores wouldn’t open for another hour except for Granny B’s kitchen, which was two doors down from Tanya’s Beans and Dewey’s Drug Store, at the corner of Main and Court Square. With Tanya’s Beans busier than the big-name coffee joint by the mall and with Granny B’s being a popular breakfast place, Ryan had to cruise past the coffee shop for a place to park. Spotting an opening about one hundred yards ahead in front of the Oak Creek Art Gallery, he pulled in. Across the street, he a caught light pouring from Summers Real Estate Agency. Of course, his friend, Mark, would be at his office already.

Ryan’s breath clouded in the cool morning air as his long strides ate up the cobblestone sidewalk. A few minutes later, he opened the door to the bakery, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the yeasty aroma of baked bread and pastries enveloped his senses as he stepped inside.

“Hey, man, long time no see. How goes the business?” Someone, whose name he failed to recall, slapped him on the shoulder as if he was his long-lost brother.

“Great man, great...”

“What can I get you, Ryan?” The barista smiled from behind the counter, saving him from further conversation.

Giving the man a smile and lifting a shoulder, he excused himself, “Good to see you. Take care,” and ordered an extra-large dark roast. A variety of bagels displayed in wicker baskets on a rack on the wall tempted him, so he picked up half a dozen.