Deadly Deceit (Harbored Secrets Book #2) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Natalie Walters

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180 pages

English

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Independent and tenacious journalist Vivian DeMarco is back in Walton, Georgia, for one reason--to do her job and get out. When her boss suddenly dies under suspicious circumstances, Vivian's only hope for finding the truth--and the next big story--is small-town law enforcement's lanky poster boy, Deputy Ryan Frost. But the deeper they dig, the more twisted the truth becomes, and Vivian finds herself fighting for not only answers but also her life. False leads, incriminating emails, and someone called The Watcher force Vivian to confront the secret of her past and decide: How much is she willing to risk for the sake of a headline?Author Natalie Walters welcomes you back to Walton, Georgia, where everyone knows your name--but no one knows your secret.

Sujets

Romance

Thriller

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	05 novembre 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493419579
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	4 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0432€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Cover
Endorsements
Praise for Deadly Deceit
“A delicious hero, heart-pounding suspense, and an intricate weaving of a heroine’s journey make Deadly Deceit one of my top-of-the-top favorites of the year! Natalie Walters brings it all together with an ending that will stick with you long after you close the book.”
Jaime Jo Wright , author of The Curse of Misty Wayfair and the Christy Award–winning novel The House on Foster Hill
Praise for Living Lies
“Walters’s fresh new voice pulls readers into an edge-of-your-seat plot with more than a few surprises.”
Family Fiction
“ Living Lies is a nail-biter that will make you play hooky from your day job, feed your children cereal for supper, and not stop reading until the last page. Natalie Walters’s debut novel is intriguing and enticing, with a romance that will make you believe not only in love but also that you are worth being loved. It gripped me from the first chapter and didn’t let go until the end!”
Jaime Jo Wright , author of The Reckoning at Gossamer Pond and the Christy Award–winning novel The House on Foster Hill
“Natalie Walters has masterfully woven an emotionally charged suspense and love story. It’s the perfect book for the avid romantic-suspense reader. Look for more novels to come from this new author!”
DiAnn Mills , author of Burden of Proof , www.DiAnnMills.com
“With thrilling suspense, threads of romance, and important messages about removing the stigma of mental health and depression, this book seems to have it all.”
Military Press
Half Title Page
Books by Natalie Walters
H ARBORED S ECRETS
Living Lies
Deadly Deceit
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2019 by Natalie Walters
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-1957-9
ISBN 978-0-8007-3712-2 (casebound)
Scripture quotations are from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Dedication
G.I. JOE, your unconditional love gives me the freedom to dream big with the security of knowing you’re right there beside me. Without you, this dream never would’ve happened—thank you, my love.
Contents
Cover
Endorsements
Half Title Page
Books by Natalie Walters
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
Sneak Peek of the Thrilling Conclusion to the Harbored Secrets Series
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
one
IN THE FACE OF SMALL -TOWN NEWS, all creativity left Vivian DeMarco.
“And Walton Elementary will raise enough money to support Home for Heroes and end the war, bringing peace to the whole country. And everyone will find true love. Have two adorable children. A cute puppy.” Vivian stamped out the words on her keyboard with more force than necessary. “And everyone will be happy and live happily ever after. Forever. And ev—”
Yuck. Vivian stopped typing, leaned back in her chair, and exhaled. It’s only temporary. Sitting forward, she tapped the delete key. Tap. Tap. Tap. And then held it down until she erased the last paragraph of her story on Walton Elementary’s 5K race to raise money for Home for Heroes.
It’s only temporary.
Those three words had become her mantra every day for the last 180 days, though lately she’d recited them to herself less frequently than she had when she first drove into town. A fact that frightened her a little bit. Those three words were her daily reminder that this was not where she belonged. It was a means to an end.
Clackity clack clack. Clack clackity clack clack. Clackity clack. Ding.
Vivian frowned. The vintage typewriter ringtone belonged to only one person and a quick glance at the time on her phone said it was past his bedtime.
“Harold?”
“Oh, good. I was hoping you were still up.” Harold’s twangy voice was barely above a whisper. “Where are you, dear?”
“At the office.”
“So late?”
“Doing the final copy editing on a few of my pieces and finishing up some stories.” Vivian could hear some noise in the background. “Where are you?”
“I just left the g—” Harold coughed. “Excuse me. I’m leaving the basketball game.”
That explained why her boss was still awake at such a late hour. Harold was an avid sports fan, and the Anderson College men’s team had made it to state . . . or was it the division finals? That was the other reason why Harold was at the Friday night basketball game. Vivian didn’t do sports. She had always been the last one picked in PE and the first one targeted in dodgeball when that heinous sport was allowed in schools. Covering sports was the one thing she wouldn’t budge on when it came to her job at the Gazette . She’d cover the insane number of festivals, fundraisers, dedications, cook-offs, and 5K races filling the Walton community calendar, but if Harold wanted a sports story, he’d have to cover it himself. Besides, no one was going to respect a writer who didn’t know the difference between an ump and a ref.
“Did they win?”
“They did, but that’s not why I’m calling. Can you meet me at the house?”
“Your house?” Vivian looked at the time. It was half past eleven. “Now?”
Harold coughed again. “Yes, dear. I know it’s late, but I need your help.”
A tingle of worry spread through Vivian’s chest at his ominous tone. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes, dear.” He cleared his throat. “They used quite a lot of pyrotechnics at the game. Some of the smoke must be bothering my throat. I’ll be at the house in ten minutes.”
“Harold, are you sure this can’t wait until tomorrow? I’ll even stop by the Way Station Café and pick up some cinnamon rolls. Plus, since Carol’s out of town, you won’t get into trouble.”
Harold laughed, but it came out choked. “I’ve got a marma lade dropper, and I think . . . I think it’s the story you’ve been waiting on.”
Vivian sat forward. “Marmalade dropper” was Harold’s unique way to tell her he had a story. A big one. But even if he hadn’t used his familiar phrase, the fact that he suggested this was her story captured her curiosity instantly.
“Why? What’s the story?”
“Vivi, I’ll tell you at the house. Please.”
Her heart pulled at the sound of the nickname Harold had dubbed her with almost as soon as she began working for him—ignoring her insistence that her name was “just Vivian.” Nicknames were familiar. Familiarity meant affection. And affection was harmful. Still, she couldn’t ignore the strain in his voice.
“Fine.” She closed her laptop and grabbed her keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Ford Avenue was congested with game-night traffic. Vehicles covered in cheers for the Cougars written in shoe polish on their windows honked playfully at residents young and old as they waved their red and silver banners in the air. Kids with faces painted like the school mascot rode on their dads’ shoulders or tugged their moms in the direction of Sandy’s Ice Cream Shop, which apparently had extended its hours in honor of the win. The town was alive with celebration.
It was all a pitiful reminder of just how lame Vivian was.
Several blocks farther down, Vivian turned into The Landing, a subdivision of stately homes with wraparound porches and wide lawns manicured to HOA standards. She parked behind Harold’s white Volvo on Marshford Avenue, the light from his living room illuminating the path up to his porch.
Vivian knocked on the door. What kind of story was important enough for her to be standing here this late at night? She didn’t have a clue. This was Walton, Georgia, where people lived happily ever after. The words she had typed earlier came back to her. She’d been in the news industry long enough to know there was no such thing.
Vivian knocked again, then moved to the front window and peeked in. Her heart stopped at the sight of his body crumpled on the floor.
“Harold!” She grabbed for the doorknob and it turned. Shoving the front door open, she ran to Harold’s side. “Harold!”
His face was red, lips blue and swollen. His chest heaved, but only shallow wheezing escaped his throat. “Harold! What’s wrong? Are you having a heart attack?”
A subtle shake of his head and Vivian remembered. Harold had a peanut allergy. “Allergic reaction? Are you having an allergic reaction?” More wheezing, but his eyes widened a bit before closing. No, no, no . He couldn’t . . . “Stay with me, Harold.”
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. After Vivian gave the emergency operator Harold’s address, the woman directed her to find his EpiPen. Harold had made sure Vivian knew where he kept it at the office, but this was his house. She looked around, not knowing the first place to look. Her eyes swept across the living room until they landed on the familiar briefcase. It was Harold’s and she knew he’d have one in there. Vivian squeezed Harold’s hand. Please don’t die, Harold. I can’t lose you. “Hang on, Harold.”
Vivian popped open the satchel and dug through it until her hands landed on the pen. She grabbed it