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Die Before Nightfall
Shirlee McCoy
Raven Stevenson was in Lakeview barely twenty-four hours when she heard those ominous words. She'd come to the small Virginie town to reconcile with her brother and forget the haunting memories of her past. She didn't expect to find friends, community - or a thirty-five-year-old mystery of tragic love. Nor did she expect to meet Shane Montgomery, whose love for his ailing aunt Abby breaks through Raven's carefully built defenses.When Abby unwittingly shares some of the secrets behind that long-buried mustery, she and Raven are targeted by someone who wants those secrets silenced - and who's willing to kill both of them to do it.
“Running away, Raven?”
“Not running.” Raven turned away. “Going home.”
“What is it about me that makes you nervous?” Shane asked. Caught in the spell of sunset, Raven didn’t realize Shane had moved until he was beside her, his hand clasping hers gently. “Stay for a little longer. I promise I won’t talk about princes, frogs, or you.”
“No, it’s getting dark. I’d better head home.” Raven pulled her hand from his and moved through the overgrown cemetery, leading Merry along beside her. Already dusk was beginning to settle on the land, deep violet shadows creeping across the ground. The effect was eerie, the rustle of leaves and hum of insects only adding to Raven’s unease.
Her foot caught on a root and she stumbled, barely catching her balance. A twig snapped somewhere to the right and Merry growled low in her throat, lunging toward the sound.
“Hello?”
No one answered, nothing moved in the darkness, yet Raven was sure someone was there. She didn’t wait for more. Breath gasping, heart hammering, she raced toward the cottage.
SHIRLEE MCCOY
has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of four, Shirlee is a homeschool mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in Maryland and share their house with a dog and a guinea pig.
SHIRLEE MCCOY
Die Before Nightfall
Published by Steeple Hill Books
ISBN: 9781408967447
Die Before Nightfall
© Shirlee McCoy 2005
First Published in Great Britain in 2005
Harlequin (UK) Limited
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, including without limitation xerography, photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the prior consent of the publisher, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.á.r.l.
® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For God will bring every work into judgment,
including every secret thing, whether good or evil.
—Ecclesiastes 12:14
Jude, Caleb, Seth and Emma Grace, if God lined up all the children in the world and let me choose any four, I would choose the four of you. And if you had dirty faces, messy clothes and were whining and crying, I would still choose you. I love you. All the way to the sun and back. Always. No matter what.
A special thank-you to Sara Parker, who read my first, second, third and fourth drafts without flinching, and who offered countless suggestions and advice. And to my editor, Krista Stroever, who walked me through the publication process with grace, humor and an unerring eye for detail. Thanks! This book is much better because of you.
In loving memory of Tony Trainer.
Sixty years wasn’t nearly long enough.
Dear Reader,
Life is filled with ups, downs, twists and turns. That’s not a bad thing when you like roller coasters. But if you’re like me and enjoy the more placid rides, sudden changes in direction can be disconcerting. A lost job, a lost love, illness or death in the family—when we experience those things, it can be hard to remember that God knows every bump and turn our lives will take and that He’s with us through them all, steering us forward, urging us on, quietly whispering to our souls that everything will be all right.
Raven Stevenson’s life is a roller-coaster ride, and she’s ready for it to stop. That means taking a break from her job as a home health-care nurse and moving to Lakeview, Virginia, to reconnect with a brother she hasn’t seen in twenty years. She hopes she’ll have time to think and to reassess the direction her life has taken. Instead she gets pulled into the lives of Abby and Shane Montgomery—an elderly women suffering from dementia and the nephew who is determined to care for her. Together the three of them must confront the past and uncover a secret that just might destroy them all. Only in doing so can they learn the true meaning of God’s grace and love for them.
I hope you enjoy taking part in their adventure. If you have the time, drop me a line. I can be reached by mail at 1121 Annapolis Road, PMB 244, Odenton, Maryland, 21113-1633. Or by e-mail at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com.
May God richly bless your life.
Contents
About the Author
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
Epilogue
COMING NEXT MONTH
Chapter One
She’d never hung wash out to dry, but that wouldn’t keep her from trying. Raven Stevenson eyed the basket of sopping white sheets and the small bucket of clothespins sitting at her feet.
How hard could it be?
Five minutes later she’d managed to trample one sheet into the mud. The other two were hanging, lopsided and drooping, from the line.
“It could be worse, I suppose.”
“Could be better, too.” A pie in one hand, a grocery bag in the other, Nora Freedman came around the side of the house, her eyes lined with laughter. “Never had to dry laundry the old-fashioned way, I see.”
“I’m afraid not. Hopefully it won’t take me long to get better at it.”
“It won’t. And I give you credit for even trying. You wouldn’t believe how many renters have turned down this property just because I don’t have a clothes dryer.”
“Their loss. My gain.”
Nora beamed at the words, her deep brown eyes glowing with pleasure. “I knew the minute I saw you, you were the person for this place. I’ve been praying about it, mind you. So it didn’t surprise me when Glenda called and said she might have a renter. Here, I’ve brought you a welcome gift. Pecan pie and some things to stock your cupboards.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“Of course I didn’t. I wanted to. I’ll leave everything in the kitchen. Gotta scoot. Prayer meeting in a half hour. Call me if you need something.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“See you at church Sunday? You did say you planned to attend Grace Christian?”
The nerves that Raven had held at bay for a week clawed at her stomach. “Yes. I’ll see you then.”
“I knew it. Just knew this would work out.” Then Nora was gone as quickly as she’d come, her squat, square figure disappearing around the corner of the house.
In the wake of her departure, the morning silence seemed almost deafening. Humming a tune to block out the emptiness, Raven bent to lift the dirty sheet and caught sight of a strange print in the barren, muddy earth. A footprint—each toe clearly defined, the arch and heel obvious. Small, but not a child’s foot. Someone had walked barefoot through the yard, despite the lingering winter chill from the damp spring morning.
Who? Why? Raven searched for another print and found one at the edge of the lawn. From there, a narrow footpath meandered through sparse trees, the prints obvious on earth still wet from last night’s rain. She followed the path until it widened and Smith Mountain Lake appeared, vast and blue, the water barely rippling. There, on a rickety dock that jutted toward the center of the lake, was her quarry—white hair, white skin, a bathing suit covering a thin back.
Raven hurried forward. “Are you all right?”
“Thea?” The woman turned, wispy hair settling in a cloud around a face lined with age. “I’ve been waiting forever. Didn’t we agree to meet at ten?”
Ten? It was past noon. Two hours was a long time to sit half clad in a chilly breeze. Raven’s concern grew, the nurse in her cataloguing what she saw: pale skin, goose bumps, a slight tremor. “Actually, I’m Raven. I live in the cottage up the hill.”
“Not Thea’s cottage? She didn’t tell me she had guests.”
“She probably forgot. Were you planning a swim?”
“Thea and I always swim at this time of year. Though usually it’s not quite so cold.”
“It is chilly today. Here, put this on.” Raven slid out of her jacket and placed it around the woman’s shoulders.
“Do I know you?”
“No, we haven’t met. I’m Raven Stevenson.”
“I’m Abigail Montgomery. Abby to my friends.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Abby. Would you like to join me for tea? I’ve got a wonderful chamomile up at the house.” Raven held out her hand and was relieved when Abby allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.
“Chamomile? It’s been years since I had that.”
“Then let’s go.” Raven linked her arm through Abby’s and led her toward the footpath, grimacing as she caught sight of her companion’s feet. Torn and dirty, they looked painful and swollen. Another walk through the brambles would only make things worse. “It looks like you’ve forgotten your shoes.”
Abby glanced down at her feet, confusion drawing her brows together. Then she looked at Raven, and behind her eyes past gave way to present. Raven had seen it many times, knew the moment Abby realized what had happened. She waited a beat, watching as the frail, vague woman transformed into someone else, stronger and much more aware.
“I’ve done it again, haven’t I.” The words were firm but Abby’s eyes betrayed her fear.
“Nothing so bad. Just a walk to the lake.”
“Dressed in a bathing suit? In…” Her voice trailed off, confusion marring her face once again.
“It’s April. A lovely day, but a bit too cold for a swim.”
“What was I thinking?” Frustration and despair laced the words.
“You were thinking about summer. Perhaps a summer long ago.”
