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In Seconds
Brenda Novak
They're back…Laurel Hodges has changed her identity twice. She's been on the run for the past four years, trying to outdistance the gang members who blame her for the death of one of their own. She's finally found peace and stability in the small town of Pineview, Montana. But just when Laurel thinks she and her children are safe…the nightmare starts all over again.The Crew, a ruthless prison gang with ties to Laurel's brother, will never forget and they'll never forgive. And now that they've finally tracked her down, they'll stop at nothing.Sheriff Myles King, who happens to live next door with his thirteen-year-old daughter, appoints himself Laurel's personal guardian. His growing attraction to her could change his life–Myles is beginning to picture marriage and family. But it could also end his life. If he can't save her, everything he's built, everything he wants, could be destroyed. In seconds…
Praise for the novels of Brenda Novak
“I felt a real connection to the characters…
It was an exciting, intriguing read.”
—First for Women magazine on Killer Heat
Novak “builds her characters and plot by adding genuine and
recognizable feelings—from angst to passion to terror and
beyond… A great end to a wonderful series.”
—Suspense Magazine on Killer Heat
Body Heat “is a definite page-turner.”
—RT Book Reviews
“With such a heart-stopping hero and plucky heroine,
what could I do but give this book a Perfect 10?”
—Romance Reviews Today on Body Heat
“Novak expertly blends romantic thrills, suspenseful chills, and
realistically complicated characters together in a white-knuckle
read that is certain to keep readers riveted to the last page.”
—Booklist on Body Heat
“Brenda Novak has written the best high-action thriller
of 2010…. From page one I was immediately hooked on this
fast action plot that was like solving a Chinese puzzle box.”
—Midwest Book Review on White Heat
With “distinctive characters and a nail biting plot, Novak’s
White Heat is flawless and easily a Best of 2010 contender.”
—Suspense Magazine
“A fast-paced romantic thriller guaranteed to keep you
entranced to the climactic end.”
—Fresh Fiction on White Heat
“Novak writes gripping romantic thrillers.”
—Library Journal
In Seconds
Brenda Novak
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
To Larry and Gloria Morrill—
Thank you for opening your home and your hearts.
Dear Reader,
Last November, when one of my best friends suggested I go with her to Montana to spend a few days with her parents, I agreed. It wasn’t like me to take the time. I have a family, tight writing deadlines and lots of travel for speaking and conferences. But I’d never been to Montana. I wanted to see it and believed it would be therapeutic to have some “girlfriend” time.
I flew into Kalispell, which has a tiny but attractive airport, and met Dara there. I was looking forward to a quiet, scenic getaway and that’s exactly what I got. I didn’t realize that in these modern times, places still exist where there’s no cell service for miles, but I have to admit I really like the idea and hope it never changes—it stirs my imagination to think technology hasn’t completely tamed the Wild West.
We stayed in the Chain of Lakes area, right on Crystal Lake, which was so beautiful (especially in the mornings with the mist coming off the water) it stole my breath. Even better than the scenery was being able to feel like a kid again as Dara’s parents, Larry and Gloria Morrill, took care of us with delicious food, interesting anecdotes about their family history (they now live where they grew up), research help, sightseeing trips and love. I will always remember my stay fondly—and associate that trip with this book. Not only is the story set in a fictional town I’ve placed not far from Happy’s Inn, which is a stone’s throw from their house, I started the manuscript while sitting in one of the bedrooms in their home.
I’ve posted pictures of Crystal Lake and Libby (where Myles works) on my Facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Brenda-Novak/120794854630624). Please go there if you’d like to see what I saw (and “like” the page). Also, I’d love for you to visit brendanovak.com, where you can sign up for my mailing list, peruse my backlist and future releases and join the many authors, readers and philanthropists who support my annual online auction for diabetes research (my son has this disease). I hold this event at my website May 1 to May 31. So far we’ve raised over $1.4 million and are continuing the fight. Here’s to a cure!
I hope you enjoy Laurel and Myles’s story!
Brenda Novak
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
1
Pineview, Montana
It was the murder that triggered everything. The moment Laurel Hodges—Vivian Stewart as of two years ago—heard about it, everything she’d been through, everything she’d done to escape her past, came rushing back at her. And it happened at a place where she’d felt completely safe only seconds before. She was having highlights put in her hair at Claire’s Salon, which wasn’t much of a salon, just an add-on to her friend’s small home.
Although Claire had grown up here, Vivian had lived in Pineview only since she’d assumed her most recent identity. She’d chosen this town because it had an extremely low crime rate, it was so far from where she’d been before and it was on the backside of nowhere. She’d never dreamed the people who’d been chasing her for four years would think to look here. And it’d been a long enough stretch of peace and quiet to believe the terrible years were over. She’d left her old self behind, adjusted, established her fledgling purse-design business and begun to live again. She and her two children—Mia, seven, and Jake, nine—were finally starting to belong.
And now, in the blink of an eye, everything they’d created here felt threatened.
“What’d you say?” Lifting the hood of the commercial hair dryer, she leaned out so she could hear. The postman, George Grannuto, had just walked through the doors Claire had flung wide so they could enjoy the breezy June morning while she vented the fumes of the hair-coloring chemicals.
“Pat Stueben’s dead,” he repeated, handing Claire her mail. “He’s been murdered.” His face, drained of its usual ruddy color, made him appear years older than he was. Vivian knew his exact age—fifty-five—because she’d attended his birthday party last month. His wife was part of her Thursday-night book group.
Claire, only five foot three or so, leaned on the broom she’d been using to sweep up hair. Vivian had wanted a sassy cut to signify the freedom and happiness she’d been experiencing so often of late. She’d also gone back to being a blonde, which was her natural color. But going so short was a big change. Now she couldn’t help staring at the dark brown locks lying on the floor, feeling as if she’d just shed her skin.
“How? When?” Claire brought a hand to her chest. George’s words had obviously shocked her as much as they had Vivian. With the disappearance of her mother fifteen years ago and the death of her husband after only a few years of marriage, Claire had had more than her share of bad news. And now this… “Leanne and I saw him and Gertie at Fresh Ketch last night,” she said. “They were in the booth next to ours.”
Tall and bony, George resembled a cartoon stork delivering a baby when he carried his bulging mailbag down Claire’s little dead-end street, and the shorts that went with his warm-weather uniform didn’t improve his appearance. They revealed stiltlike legs with knobby knees and varicose veins. But he always wore a smile.
Except today.
“Someone called him,” he explained, “wanting to rent one of those cabins he owns over on the north shore. So after breakfast he drove around the lake to show the property—and never came back.”
If he’d said that Pat had died of a heart attack, Vivian wouldn’t have found it difficult to believe. Pat was no longer as svelte as the picture posted on his real-estate signs. But…murdered? That couldn’t be. They still didn’t know what’d happened to Claire’s mother, but no one had ever been killed in this tranquil place, not in recent memory. Folks here didn’t even lock their doors at night. If the community had more deaths than some, that was because it had more seniors.
The old cloying fear welled up, making it hard for Vivian to breathe, let alone talk. After two attempts to clear her throat, she managed to find her voice. “Who discovered him?”
“Gertie.” The clicking sound George made with his tongue was shorthand for “this makes it even worse.” “When he didn’t come home, she drove over to see what was keeping him. You know how close they are. Were,” he corrected. “The scene when she walked in was—” He shook his head.
“She got there too late?” Claire asked this question; Vivian was still chasing words around the vortex of panic in her head.
George lowered his voice. “She found him lying in a pool of blood, beaten senseless. He died before he could tell her anything.”
The hair on the back of Vivian’s neck stood on end. Beaten senseless? Who could hate Pat enough to kill him—and in such a violent manner? No one from Pineview. He was popular, jovial, well-liked.
Did this tragedy mean what she thought it might?
“Do they know who did it?” Claire beat Vivian to the question that was uppermost in her mind. It was obviously important to Claire, too, and it wasn’t hard to guess why, not with a mother who’d been missing for nearly two decades.
“I don’t think so,” George replied. “Maybe that would be different if we had cell phone service here, but we don’t. And if the sheriff knows anything, he’s not talking.”
Sheriff King happened to be Vivian’s next-door neighbor, so she knew him, at least a little. He wasn’t the type to divulge details until he was good and ready, especially if doing so might jeopardize a case. Myles was a by-the-book kind of cop. He was also a handsome widower with a thirteen-year-old daughter. He’d asked Vivian out on occasion, but she’d never accepted. Claire said she was crazy for rejecting him, but she was still trying to get over Rex McCready, her brother’s best friend who’d entered WitSec—witness protection—when she did. Besides, she was afraid to get too close to anyone who was unaware of her real situation for fear her past would come crashing into her present, just like it seemed to be doing today.
“How do you know all this?” There. She’d found her voice again. She’d also come to her feet.
“My route covers the whole lake.” He gestured toward Crystal Lake, even though they couldn’t see it from this part of town. Claire’s house was artsy, in a hippie sort of way, but it was located on the poor side of Pineview.
Claire started to speak, but Vivian plowed over her. “You were at the scene?”
