As Laurel Ridge embraces a stranger hungry for answers, a sinister truth is awakened
A hard-hitting reporter, Kate Beaumont unearths the deepest lies and brings harsh truths to light. But the story that lures her to the gentle town of Laurel Ridge, Pennsylvania, is closer to her heart than anyone knows. The details of her half brothers sudden death have never made sense. She owes him justice, yet the one man who can help her is the stubborn sheriff she cant stand.
Protecting his town is Mac Whitings top priority. Everything elseincluding pacifying a beautiful crusader on a mission best left resting in peaceis secondary. But as Kates search embeds her in his world and attracts a skilled criminal, she needs Macs protection. Drawn together by deadly secrets, they must find a way to trust each other before a killer silences them both.
Praise for Marta Perry
Abundant details turn this Amish romantic thriller series launch into a work of art.
Publishers Weekly, starred review, on Where Secrets Sleep
Crisp writing and distinctive characters make up Perrys latest novel. Where Secrets Sleep is a truly entertaining read.
RT Book Reviews
Perrys story hooks you immediately. Her uncanny ability to seamlessly blend the mystery element with contemporary themes makes this one intriguing read.
RT Book Reviews on Home by Dark
Perry skillfully continues her chilling, deceptively charming romantic suspense series with a dark, puzzling mystery that features a sweet romance and a nice sprinkling of Amish culture.
Library Journal on Vanish in Plain Sight
Leahs Choice, by Marta Perry, is a knowing and careful look into Amish culture and faith. A truly enjoyable reading experience.
Angela Hunt, New York Times bestselling author of Let Darkness Come
Leahs Choice is a story of grace and servitude as well as a story of difficult choices and heartbreaking realities. It touched my heart. I think the world of Amish fiction has found a new champion.
Lenora Worth, author of Code of Honor
How Secrets Die
Marta Perry
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Dear Reader,
Im so glad you decided to read the final book in my Blackburn House series. Ive especially enjoyed writing this series because Ive been able to pick up pieces from real Pennsylvania small towns to incorporate in the stories, which makes the setting very real to me. In fact, the clock tower on the cover is actually the clock tower on Main Street in the town where I live!
In How Secrets Die, police chief Mac Whiting finally meets his match in a woman who is just as stubbornly determined to do the right thing as he is. After getting to know Mac in the two earlier books, I hope you enjoy watching as he and Kate battle each other as well as the forces of wrong to find their own happily-ever-after.
Please let me know how you feel about my story. Id be happy to send you a signed bookmark and my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can email me at marta@martaperry.com, visit me at www.Facebook.com/martaperrybooks or at www.martaperry.com, or write to me at HQN Books, 195 Broadway, 24th FL, New York, NY 10007.
Blessings,
This story is dedicated to my husband,
who always believes in me, with much love.
Death isnt the greatest loss in life.
The greatest loss is what dies inside of us while we live.
Amish proverb
Contents
COVER
BACK COVER TEXT
Praise for Marta Perry
TITLE PAGE
Dear Reader
DEDICATION
EPIGRAPH
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
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
GRANDMAS HOMEMADE NOODLES
EXTRACT
COPYRIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
A CEMETERY SHOULD be a place where people were buriednot where they died. Kate Beaumont, confronted so unexpectedly with the place Jason had chosen to end his life, stopped the car in mid-traffic, earning an irritated honk from the driver behind her as he was forced to come to a halt, as well.
The driver circled her, looking annoyed but refraining from the rude gesture she anticipated. Apparently drivers were a bit more polite in a small town like Laurel Ridge, Pennsylvania, than they were in the city. Her hands were shaking, and not from the sudden stop. She pulled off the road near the stone wall that encircled the graveyard.
Ridiculous, to let just the sight of the place send her into a tailspin. She was tougher than that, wasnt she? But while she could face down a recalcitrant politician or an irate citizen in search of a story, she couldnt maintain that level of detachment where her younger brothers death was concerned.
Kate took a long breath, fighting to still the tremors that shook her. She focused on the scene facing her, thinking of how shed describe it for a newspaper article.
Laurel Ridges cemetery covered the top of a rounded hill at the eastern end of town. Spreading maples, their leaves already turning color, shielded gray tombstones. Some of the stones were worn and tilted, their lettering eroded, while others were new enough to make it obvious the cemetery was still in use. The whole place had a well-tended air, the grass mown, with beds of gold-and-burgundy chrysanthemums blossoming here and there.
Which was the stone Jason had leaned against when hed taken that fatal dose of pain meds and swallowed that final mouthful of whiskey? She could find it, she supposed, since the name had shown clearly in the newspaper photo shed scanned online. But looking at the spot wouldnt lead her to any answers.
Movement reflected in the rearview mirror startled her, and her stomach tightened as she realized a police car had pulled up behind her. Great. All she needed was to draw official attention to herself before shed even begun the task that brought her here.
An officer slid from the vehicle and started toward her. Taking a firm grip on her nerves, Kate planted a smile on her face and hit the button to roll down her window.
She was about to speak when a closer look at the mans uniform gave her another shock. The lettering on his pocket read M. Whiting. McKinley Whiting, then. Chief of Police in this backwater town, and the man whod dismissed her little brothers death as just another druggie overdosing himself.
Kate gritted her teeth, fighting to keep her feelings from showing as she looked up at the man. Tall and lean, he had dark hair in a military-style cut and a jaw that conveyed determination. He didnt affect the dark sunglasses so many cops did, and his brown eyes studied her, missing nothing, she felt sure.
Are you having car trouble, maam? His voice was a bass rumble.
No, not at all. Is there a problem?
You cant park here. He nodded to the no-parking sign directly in front of her fender. If youre interested in the cemetery, you can turn in at the gate just ahead. Youll find a gravel pull-off where you can park, if you want.
I dont. Kates tone was sharper than she intended, but she couldnt seem to control the spurt of temper. Cant a visitor to your town stop to get her bearings without being harassed?
Reading the surprise in his face, she clamped her lips shut before she could make matters worse. Shed overdone itlost her cool and let her feelings show. The last thing she wanted was to rouse the suspicions of the local cop before shed been in town for five minutes.
Sorry, she muttered before he could speak. I didnt mean...
No problem. He said the words easily, but his brown eyes were watchful. I wasnt trying to harass you. If youre lost, Ill be glad to help you find your way, Ms....
He left it hanging there, obviously intent on learning her name. For the first time she was glad her name wouldnt connect her with Jason Reilley.
Kate Beaumont.
Nice to meet you, Ms. Beaumont. Im Mac Whiting. She could see him stowing her name away in the filing cabinet of his mind. Coming to visit someone here in Laurel Ridge?
No. Guilt and grief were a powerful combination. She should have. If shed come to visit Jason the summer hed spent here, maybe hed still be alive.
That was the danger of loving someone. It hurt too much when you let them down.
Whitings eyes were probing again. If shed worn a sign, it probably wouldnt have been more obvious that she was hiding something.
Kate swallowed hard and tried for a normal tone. Ive been driving for several hours. I just thought Id find a place for lunch.
He nodded, again with that watchful look. Protective, that was what it was. As if his town might need protecting against her. Well, maybe it did.
Turn left just ahead, and youll be on Main Street. Theres a café a few blocks down on your left, across from the bed-and-breakfast. He pointed, leaning against the car as he did so, and she had a sudden sensation of masculine power in his nearness. The Buttercup. I can vouch for the food, and the prices are reasonable.
She hadnt expected that casual reference to the bed-and-breakfast, and it shook her. Would it be the same one where Jason had stayed when he came to Laurel Ridge? If so, it was going to be one of her first stops.
Okay, thanks. She managed a cool, dismissive smile. I appreciate the recommendation. She turned the ignition key, her fingers brushing the silver dragon charm Jason had given her, and put her finger on the window button.
Whiting looked at her for a moment longer, and then slowly stepped back so she could close the window. She put the car in gear, glanced behind her and pulled out. It was simple enough to watch Whiting in her rearview mirror. Hed drawn out a notebook and was jotting down her license number.
She doused a flicker of anger. A search of her license wouldnt tell him anything except her address in Baltimore. Shed never been arrested, so a query to the police there wouldnt help him, even if he went that far.
But this encounter had clearly shown her that shed have to do better. True, she hadnt expected the first person shed meet in Laurel Ridge to be the policeman whod been quoted in that article about Jasons death. She might be excused for losing her grip just a bit, but it was unfortunate. Shed made herself an object of his interest before shed had a chance to do a single thing.
But what difference did it make in the long run? Sooner or later shed have to divulge the relationship between her and Jason. If she didnt, shed have no reason for asking questions about him.
Shed toyed with the thought of trying to conceal her identity. She could have claimed to be writing a newspaper story about Jasons death, but that didnt sound credible even to herself, not after over a year had passed.
Kate made the turn onto Main Street and drove down it at a sedate speed, reading signs as she went. There, ahead of her on the left, was the café Whiting had mentioned, and on her right the bed-and-breakfast. She slowed, peering toward the rear of the white clapboard building, and caught a glimpse of a small building nearly hidden by the trees. That had to be itthe cottage where Jason had lived during his three months in Laurel Ridge.
And next to the bed-and-breakfast rose the imposing Italianate building that was Blackburn House, where Jason had worked. The place where hed lived, the place where hed worked. That was where she had to begin.
She hadnt been here when Jason had needed her, but she was now. Shed find the answer to the question that haunted her, because if she didnt, shed never be satisfied. What had happened in this seemingly quiet, peaceful town that had led to her brothers death?