Killer in the Heartland, page 1
He tightened his arms around her as she began to weep. “Scarecrows...they were everywhere...chasing me. I was...in my car and then I was rolling upside down and downside up and...the scarecrows kept coming.” Her words came with tearful gasps as she buried her face against his bare shoulder.
“Shh, you’re okay now,” he murmured against her ear. “You’re safe here. It was just a bad dream.”
She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck. Despite her tears, he was acutely aware of her warm body intimately close against his. He could smell the scent of her that always stirred him.
Still, his desire was to comfort her and nothing more. He continued to hold her until her weeping finally stopped.
“I’m so sorry.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why on earth would you be embarrassed?” He gently pulled at her hands to uncover her face. “Mary, you had a nightmare. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Thank you, Lucas, for waking me up,” she finally said and leaned toward him, her lips slightly parted as if in invitation.
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Millsville, a small town in Kansas where the townspeople work together in a community with values like hard work and strong ethics.
This little town is much like the one where I grew up. It was built with farmers and shopkeepers. It’s a place where time seems to move more slowly and friends and family are cherished.
However, a killer is at work and suddenly the young women of Millsville aren’t safe anymore.
I hope you love this town as much as I do. It has secrets and danger, passion and, of course, love...always love!
Enjoy reading!
Carla Cassidy
KILLER IN THE HEARTLAND
Carla Cassidy
Carla Cassidy is an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author who has written over 170 books, including 150 for Harlequin. She has won the Centennial Award from Romance Writers of America. Most recently she won the 2019 Write Touch Readers Award for her Harlequin Intrigue title Desperate Strangers. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write.
Books by Carla Cassidy
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
The Scarecrow Murders
Killer in the Heartland
Colton 911: Chicago
Colton 911: Guardian in the Storm
Cowboys of Holiday Ranch
Cowboy at Arms
Operation Cowboy Daddy
Killer Cowboy
Sheltered by the Cowboy
Guardian Cowboy
Cowboy Defender
Cowboy’s Vow to Protect
The Cowboy’s Targeted Bride
The Last Cowboy Standing
Colton 911
Colton 911: Target in Jeopardy
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
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
Epilogue
Excerpt from The Trouble with Sam by Carla Cassidy
Excerpt from His Christmas Guardian by Cindy Dees
Chapter 1
“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe how many of those elevator thingies I saw when I was driving here. This whole town looks like something out of an old creepy movie.” Heidi Barnell looked at Lucas Maddox with wide-eyed wonder.
“They’re called grain elevators,” Lucas replied dryly. He’d only known Heidi for about two minutes, but he already knew she wasn’t right for the job.
As she’d breezed by him to come into his home, he’d smelled the distinct odor of marijuana clinging to her. He wasn’t a judgmental kind of guy; he didn’t care what choices people made for themselves. But he thought the young woman was high, and that instantly disqualified her from doing the job she was interviewing for.
“Heidi, did you bring a résumé with you?” Lucas asked.
“Yeah, I did.” She flashed him a bright smile, swung one of her long pink-tinged braids over her shoulder and then dug into her oversize purse. She pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper and tried to straighten it before handing it to him. “It’s pretty brief,” she admitted. “I haven’t had a job in the last couple of years.”
He had a feeling this was why she had insisted she didn’t mind driving an hour and a half from Kansas City, Missouri, to his home in Millsville, Kansas, to interview in person. Maybe she was hoping her bright smile would automatically move her right into the position.
“This is a totally awesome house,” she said as he pretended to read her very short résumé. “I wouldn’t mind living here, even though the town is kind of old and small.”
He glanced up from the piece of paper and smiled. “Thanks. We love it here.”
“The corn is kind of creepy, but your house is awesome. Remember that old movie about the kids in the corn? It scared me for weeks after I saw it.”
“The corn is just one of the things we grow around here. I’ve never found it particularly creepy,” he replied, then smiled and stood. “I really appreciate you driving all the way out here. I’ll keep your résumé here, although I’m still in the process of interviewing people.”
She rose from the chair and followed him to his front door. “I didn’t mind the drive. I love to roll my windows down and rock my music and just drive. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Maddock.”
“It’s Maddox,” he corrected.
“Excuse me?” She smiled and eyed him blankly.
“Never mind. It was nice to meet you, too. Drive careful on the way home,” he said.
He stood on the wraparound front porch and watched as she got into her car. He remained there until she drove down the long lane. As she disappeared from sight, another familiar vehicle headed toward his house.
He smiled and stepped down from the porch as his mother-in-law parked and got out of her car. He greeted her, and the two hugged.
“Who was that who just left?” she asked as they headed for the front door.
“A woman interviewing for the job.” After entering the house, he led her into the kitchen. At least once a week or so, around four or five o’clock in the afternoon, Nicole stopped by for a cup of coffee and a chat.
“Is she a good prospect?” Nicole asked as she sank into one of the chairs at the table.
“Unfortunately, no.” He set the coffee to brew and then sat down across from her. Nicole Dennis was an attractive older woman. Her dark hair and blue eyes were a constant reminder of her daughter, who had been the first and only love of Lucas’s life.
She had been married to Raymond Dennis for years, and they had shared a small farmhouse with plenty of land around it. After Raymond had died ten years ago from a sudden heart attack, Nicole sold off most of the land but remained living on about five acres around her home.
Nicole had always been a slender, shapely woman, but in the past couple of years, she had gained a lot of weight. Still, she was quite attractive.
“How many does that make now?” she asked.
“Seven.” He frowned. “You’d think out of seven women, I could find one who is appropriate for what I need.”
Nicole shook her head ruefully. “I just wish I could still help out.”
A month ago, Nicole had been diagnosed with a heart condition and, under her doctor’s strict advice, could no longer help Lucas out. “I don’t want your help. I want you to spend your time resting when you need to and following the doctor’s orders. I’ll just keep on interviewing until I find the perfect woman. She’s got to be out there somewhere.”
He got up and poured them each a cup of coffee and then returned to his seat across from her. “I’ve got the ad running locally starting tomorrow, and it runs for another week in the Kansas City Star.”
“Maybe you should think about putting it in the Topeka newspaper, too. That isn’t so far from here,” Nicole suggested.
“Maybe.”
Nicole leaned across the table and patted the back of his hand. “I’m so proud of the way you’ve handled things, Lucas. More importantly, Diana would have been so wonderfully proud of you.”
As always, Diana’s name alone evoked the grief that had been with him for the past three years. Diana had been his everything...his best friend, his lover and his wife. Breast cancer had stolen her from his life, and not a day went by that he didn’t miss her.
“Thanks, Nicole.”
The patter of little feet and giggles broke the relative quiet of the kitchen. Three-year-old Annabelle flew into the kitchen, her black hair a curly mess and her blue eyes sparkling brightly.
“Granny!” she squealed, running toward Nicole. She clambered onto the older woman’s lap and hugged her around her neck.
“Did you have a good nap, bug?” Lucas asked her.
Annabelle nodded and then smiled up at Nicole. “Did you bring me a present, Granny?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t have a present for you today. Granny just didn’t have time to go shopping for you this morning.”
Annabelle’s lower lip jutted out in a pout.
“Granny can’t bring you a present every time she comes to visit,” Lucas said, hoping to stave off one of his daughter’s infamous tantrums.
“I think I might have a cherry piece of candy in my purse,” Nicole said. She picked up her purse, withdrew a wrapped piece of candy and handed it to Annabelle.
“What do you say to Granny?” Lucas asked.
“Thank you, Granny.” Annabelle slid off Nicole’s lap. “Now I’m going to get my baby doll and play.” She raced out of the kitchen, seeming to take much of the energy in the room with her.
“You spoil her,” Lucas said.
Nicole smiled. “We both spoil her. When I look at her, I see Diana and I can’t tell her no.”
Lucas smiled. “I have the same problem. But I’ve got to start laying down some rules for her. Otherwise, she’ll have problems when she gets into school.”
“Ah, that’s still two years away,” Nicole replied. “You have plenty of time to whip her into shape. Besides, she’s just like Diana was at that age, and she turned out all right.”
Lucas smiled again. “She turned out absolutely perfect.”
The two visited for another half an hour. After Nicole left, it was time for the usual routine of supper, a bath for Annabelle and then bedtime.
Hours later, he stood in the doorway of Annabelle’s bedroom. She slept on her back, arms flung wide to each side as if ready to embrace all the wonderful adventures life had to offer her. As usual, she’d kicked off her covers, exposing her pink princess pajamas.
This little girl was his very heart and soul. He would positively die for her. His wife had died for her. Unbeknownst to him, Diana had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer the same month she found out she was pregnant.
The doctor had suggested she abort the baby and treat the cancer, but Diana had chosen to carry Annabelle and put off treatment. Once Lucas had learned about her disease, he’d begged her to begin treatment, but Diana had been adamant in her decision to carry the baby and get treatment after the birth.
Unfortunately, by that time the cancer had spread aggressively. Three months after Annabelle’s birth, Diana succumbed to the disease that had spread throughout her body, and she had passed away in his arms.
He wouldn’t have gotten through the last three years without his baby girl and his mother-in-law. His own mother had passed away when he was sixteen. She’d suffered a brain aneurysm while cooking dinner one night and died almost immediately.
When Lucas turned eighteen, his father had given him the family home and the surrounding fields to work; then he’d taken off for California. The last time Lucas had spoken to his father, he was living on a houseboat and loving his life.
For the past three years, Nicole had watched Annabelle while Lucas worked the fields. But since Nicole’s diagnosis a month ago, Lucas had been unable to get outside to work. Instead, he’d had to depend solely on the four men who worked part-time for him.
He released a deep sigh and left Annabelle’s doorway. He walked down the hall to the large family room and moved to a back window with a view of his cornfields.
He smiled as he thought of Heidi’s assessment of Millsville, Kansas. The “elevator thingies” she’d referred to were four large grain elevators Lucas and his neighbors shared. The corn was hardly creepy—it was a living. Right now, the corn was knee-high and right where it should be in early July.
Millsville wasn’t creepy, either. It was a small town filled with farmers who depended on each other, men and women who worked hard in their fields and still enjoyed a good ice-cream social or dinner at the café.
There was also the Farmer’s Club, the local bar where the people in town could hang out, have a few beers and blow off some steam. Hardly creepy.
He turned away from the window with a frown as the problem at hand rose up in his brain once again. Maybe he was being too picky. Maybe he was just expecting too much.
All he wanted was a live-in nanny who would cook and clean and take care of Annabelle. Not only would she have free room and board, but he also intended to pay her a generous salary. But he needed a respectable woman who loved children and would respect the rules of his home.
He didn’t expect her to love Annabelle as much as he did. Nobody could do that. But surely there was one nice person—one special woman—who could add to their lives and allow him to work without worrying about his child’s well-being.
All he could do was continue his search and hope and pray he found that woman soon.
* * *
Mary Curtis stared at the notice her landlady, Agnes Woodward, had slipped beneath her door that morning. She’d known it was coming. She’d known it ever since Agnes had put the three-bedroom house up for sale. Now the house had sold, and the new owners didn’t want any tenants, which meant Mary had twenty days to vacate the premises.
She pushed the notice aside and sighed deeply. She had no idea where she might go. She’d lived here for the past ten years. When she’d moved in, she was a frightened eighteen-year-old who had just been told by her parents that it was time for her to move out of their home.
She now finally opened her bedroom door and padded down the hallway toward Agnes’s kitchen. The older woman was seated at the round oak table with a cup of coffee in front of her. Agnes had been a loving mother figure for Mary these last ten years.
“Make yourself a cup of coffee and sit,” Agnes said with a sad smile.
Mary poured herself a cup of the dark brew and then joined Agnes at the table. “It’s okay, Agnes. I’ll be just fine.”
“I hope so. I’m really going to miss you, Mary. You’ve been like the daughter I never had.”
Mary reached out and covered Agnes’s gnarled hand with hers. “And you’ve been like the mother I never had. But you’re doing what’s best for you, and that’s exactly what you need to do.”
Agnes was a widow who had rheumatoid arthritis that was getting progressively worse. She had decided it was time to move to Indiana to be close to her son, who had been asking his mother to move closer for the past two years.
“Have you thought about where you’ll move?” Agnes asked.
“No, but since today is my day off, I intend to use it to check out some places.”
“You might try Etta Lawrence. I know she used to rent out rooms in her place. I don’t know if she still does, but it might be worth it to stop by and talk to her,” Agnes said.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Mary looked at the clock on the wall. It was just after nine. “Are you finished with that?” She gestured to the folded newspaper on the table.
“I am.” Agnes pushed the paper toward Mary.
“I thought I might see if anyone in town is advertising for a roommate,” Mary explained.
“That’s a good idea,” Agnes agreed. “Just promise me one thing, Mary.”
“What’s that?”
“Promise me that you will continue on with your schooling so you can achieve your dream of becoming a full-time teacher.”
“That’s an easy promise to make,” Mary replied with a smile. “It might be taking me a lot longer than other people, but eventually I’ll get there.”
“That’s what I want for you. I want all the dreams you have for yourself to come true,” Agnes replied.
The two women visited for another half an hour, and then minutes later, Mary was sprawled in the center of her bed with the paper opened in front of her. As she thumbed to the section she wanted to read, she thought about her promise to Agnes.
Her idea had always been to become a teacher and work with young children, but when her parents had offered her no financial help for college, she’d wound up taking a job as a checker at the grocery store. Despite having to pay rent to Agnes, she’d managed to sock away enough money to take a couple of classes online. When the money ran out, she worked for another few months until she had the funds for a couple more classes.
Finally, two years ago, she’d earned enough college credit hours to be able to substitute teach. Since then, she’d been substituting whenever she could and continuing to work as many hours as possible at the grocery store.
