Die Before Nightfall Read online

  “Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot. Depends on how much you want to stick your nose into your neighbor’s business.”

  “Go on.”

  “Something’s up. I don’t know what yet, but I don’t like the pattern. First a car almost hits Raven, now her house has been broken into and trashed.”

  “A burglary?”

  “Made to look like one, anyway. But there were too many valuables left behind. Diamond earrings, a ring, a CD player.”

  “Could be the thief was in a hurry.”

  “Or it could be someone wants us to think that.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve been asking myself the same question. Don’t have an answer yet, but I plan to get one. In the meantime, I thought you could keep your eyes and ears open—check in on Raven when you get a chance, maybe try to get her to stay with Abby a few nights. Just until we figure out what’s going on.”

  “No problem. Anything else?”

  “Yeah. Watch your back. My gut says things aren’t what they seem.”

  “Will do. Tell Ben I’m keeping an eye on Raven until he gets back.”

  Jake nodded and started back to the cruiser. “See ya.”

  Shane paced the porch, running his hand along the rail, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Things had been calm, normal, even a little boring before Raven’s arrival. Now they were anything but.

  It was easy to believe she’d brought the trouble with her. Not so easy to think she’d wronged somebody enough to have such a savage revenge exacted. So what else could it be? Coincidence? Maybe—though Shane found it hard to imagine that the runaway car and the trashed house weren’t connected in some way.

  “Mr. Montgomery?” Becca stepped out onto the porch with Abby. Both wore lightweight slacks, cotton tops in bright colors, and smiles.

  It was good to see Abby happy for a change.

  “Yes?”

  “Ms. Abby is craving chocolate ice cream. I thought I’d take her to get some. We’ll stay in the car, if you like. Just go to the drive-through.”

  Shane hesitated, his worry for Abby’s well-being rearing up in protest. “How long will you be gone?”

  “No more than an hour. I’ll bring my cell phone and pager. If there’s trouble, I know how to reach you.”

  “You up for ice cream, Aunt Abby?”

  “Pudding would be lovely.” The words were muddled, but her smile didn’t fade. “I need to go.”

  Shane was sure there was something more Abby wanted besides ice cream. Perhaps just a chance to be out without him. “Have fun, then.” He kissed his aunt on the cheek, then spoke softly to Becca. “Take good care of her.”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”

  Shane knew she would. He still had to force himself not to call the women back as they slid into Becca’s car. Let them go have some ice cream and enjoy the day. And while they were gone, he’d check on their neighbor, make sure Raven was holding up. Not that he expected her to do anything else. She was strong—probably stronger than Ben and Jake realized, but maybe weaker than she was willing to admit.

  That, and Shane’s own gut instinct, had him locking up and heading to the cottage. He walked, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the sweet, heady fragrance of the day. He wondered at his own desire to see Raven. It felt right, somehow, the deep need to see for himself that she was unharmed. Still, he mulled it over in his mind as he walked down the driveway that led to the cottage. Should he allow himself more than friendly interest? If he did, where would it lead?

  He didn’t know. What he did know was that Raven interested him—her quiet dignity, her faith, her servant spirit, as well as the tough exterior, so at odds with the sadness he saw in her eyes. There was a reason God had brought them together. Maybe just for Abby and maybe for something more.

  Only time would tell. For now, Shane would have to trust God to lead him in the right direction, because he sure didn’t know what it was. With that thought to guide him, he raised his hand and knocked on the cottage door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Raven heard the rap of a fist against the front door and ignored it. She wasn’t up to company. What she wanted, what she needed, was to find the locket. Merry whined at her feet as she moved across the bedroom and bent down to look under the dresser again. The locket hadn’t miraculously appeared there. Nor had it appeared under the bed, the pillows or in the dresser drawers. She checked and double-checked the areas she’d searched with Jake, moving from the bedroom into the hall, and then into the living room.

  “Raven? It’s Shane. You okay in there?” The words drifted through the front door, accompanied by more knocking.

  Raven wanted to call out and tell him she was fine, but her throat was tight with unshed tears and she was sure if she spoke, everything she felt would seep into the words. Instead she walked to the door and pulled it open, stepping back so Shane could move into the room.

  “Everything all right? I’ve been knocking for a while.”

  “Everything’s fine.”

  “You sure?” He reached to smooth a strand of hair away from her cheek, his fingers lingering, his gaze intent.

  “Yes—” But her voice broke, and she turned away.

  “Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”

  “It’s nothing. Not really, it’s just…my locket’s missing and it meant a lot to me.” A tear escaped and she scrubbed it away, impatient with herself and her emotions.

  “What’s it look like? I’ll help you find it.”

  “It’s turn-of-the century silver, round, on a long, thick chain. Micah’s photo is inside it. The only one I have of him.”

  “I’m sorry.” His hands cupped her shoulders and he urged her around and into his arms.

  “Me, too.”

  “We’ll find it.”

  “No. We won’t. It’s gone. Just like Micah. I should have been more careful.”

  “Are you talking about the locket? Or what happened to your son?”

  “Both.” One tear fell. Then another and another—silent, racking sobs that Raven fought but couldn’t contain.

  Shane’s arms tightened around her. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

  “No, it won’t. He’s gone. It’s my fault. I should never have gotten pregnant. Shouldn’t have stayed with Jonas once I did. But I wanted it so much. The happy family. Love. A baby.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

  “I can. I do.” Raven stepped away and forced back her tears.

  “Raven—”

  “I can’t talk about this, Shane. I won’t talk about it.”

  “Maybe you need to talk about it.”

  “All the talking in the world can’t change what happened.” She brushed her hand against her damp cheeks.

  “You’re right, but sometimes it helps to share our burdens.”

  Raven laughed, the sound harsh. “What’s to share? No one can take away the pain I feel. No one can give me back what I lost. All anyone can do is feel sorry for me.”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  “No, but it isn’t something I need. What I need is to move on with my life.”

  Raven stepped into the kitchen and pulled a glass from the cupboard. “Want something to drink?”

  “No, thanks.” Shane watched Raven fill the glass with water. Her hand shook a little and her eyes were still red from tears. Obviously she hadn’t moved on with her life. He wanted to offer words of comfort, maybe say something profound, something that would help her heal, but he was better at fiction than reality and he figured anything he said would do more harm than good.

  He paced across the room. “Look, I don’t know a lot about grief and healing, but I do know it isn’t healthy to shove down what we feel.”

  “I’m not. I’m just choosing not to discuss it.”

  “It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe. But it’s easier to move forward if I don’t look back too often.”


  “I can understand that.”

  “Can you?” She slid her glass onto the counter and turned to stare out the window above the sink. “Do you have things you regret, Shane? Things that make you want to relive a moment in your life, to do just one thing differently so that an outcome can be changed?”

  “Everyone has regrets.”

  “I know, some of us just have more than others.” The sadness in her voice was unmistakable, but her eyes were dry when she turned to face him again. “When I look back at the past few years, I see one long series of mistakes and I wonder—if I could change one thing, would it make any difference? Would I still have my son?”

  “That’s something you can’t know.”

  “And it’s why I can’t look back. There are too many what-ifs, too many moments I might have changed, but didn’t.” She smiled, the expression made sad by the grief in her eyes. “I need to move on, not look back. That’s why I’m here. It’s why I came to see Ben. He’s family, and family is something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

  “Wasn’t your husband your family?”

  She raised an eyebrow at the question, then shrugged, as if the answer didn’t matter. “My husband was self-centered and cold. Our ideas about family and marriage were different. I wanted children—the more the better. He would have been happy with none.”

  “Still, you loved each other. That’s family, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know what family is. I’ve never really had one. I’m not sure I know what love is, either.”

  “Love is what happens when you care for someone else more than you care for yourself. Family is love that’s reciprocated.”

  “A simplified definition.”

  “Maybe. But I’m not much for complicated emotions.”

  “I would have thought the opposite. Aren’t writers supposed to understand the deepest human sentiments?”

  “Guess that depends on who the writer is. Me, I’m better at writing about emotions than I am at understanding them.”

  “Not when it comes to Abby. You’re wonderful with her.”

  Shane recognized her attempt to change the subject and didn’t fight it. “I’m just giving back to her what she gave to me.”

  “That doesn’t make it any less wonderful. Most people take as much as they can and give little or nothing in return.”

  “Is that what your life has been? People taking from you and never giving back?”

  Raven stiffened. “You must think I’m very cynical.”

  “I think you’ve been hurt a lot and I wonder how you’ve managed to stay compassionate and caring despite it.”

  “I’m not always compassionate and caring.”

  “No one is, but I think you’ve got more of those traits than most people.”

  “I’m a nurse. It’s in the job description.” Her words were light, her discomfort at his personal comment obvious.

  Shane was tempted to say more, just to see her blush again, but knew it was better to let things lie. “I’d better get going.”

  He pulled the door open, stepping out into the warmth of the day, and was surprised when Raven followed, Merry scampering out close on her heels.

  A light breeze ruffled Raven’s hair as she walked down the porch steps, dark strands of it clinging to cheeks flushed pink with heat and tears. She looked young, too young to be a widow and a grieving mother, but grief had no boundaries. The evidence of that was clear in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry about your locket. I know how much it meant to you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. But maybe I can make it better. I’ve got some friends in the antiques business. They have lots of contacts. If the locket shows up at a pawnshop or antiques store in the area, they’ll hear about it.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I know. But I will anyway.” Shane leaned in and brushed a kiss against her cheek, meaning the gesture to be a friendly one. It felt like more. Much more.

  Raven must have sensed the same. Her eyes widened, though she didn’t pull back.

  “Shane, I don’t think—”

  He put a finger against her mouth, stilling the words before she could speak them. “Relax. I’m leaving. Call if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You still up to working with Abby?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll see you Monday, then.” With that he turned and walked away.

  Raven knew it was best that he leave, but she was not sure she wanted to spend the rest of the day alone. That worried her. Until she’d come to Lakeview she’d enjoyed her solitude, never feeling lonely or ill at ease when she was by herself. Now, in just a few short days, she’d begun to crave the company of others.

  No. That wasn’t quite the truth. She’d begun to crave Shane’s company. His laid-back attitude and casual manner made being near him easy. That and his genuine concern for her well-being tempted Raven to trust him.

  She rubbed a hand against the warmth that seemed to linger where Shane’s lips had touched her cheek. It had been years since a man had touched her, years since she’d been kissed. It would be easy to believe that was the reason she’d been so affected by the sweet caress, so warmed by his presence.

  But she knew better. There’d been other men since Jonas died, men who had offered companionship, friendship, even marriage. Raven had never been tempted. She’d learned a hard lesson from her first marriage and she had no intention of repeating her mistakes.

  She sighed and whistled for Merry.

  “Come on, let’s go inside and get you something to eat.”

  She opened the door and was about to step inside when Merry lunged back toward the porch steps, growling, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Raven jerked back, reaching for the door, ready to flee inside the house.

  “Sorry to startle you and the puppy. I knocked on the front door and no one answered.”

  Raven heard the voice before she saw the speaker and she turned quickly as a man stepped around the corner of the cottage.

  Tall, maybe fifty, with the polished air of someone use to the limelight, he looked familiar, though Raven couldn’t place the face. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Adam Meade. We met at church last week.” He held out his hand and smiled, the expression without warmth.

  The son of the man who’d killed himself…the knowledge popped into Raven’s mind, unbidden. “That’s right. You’re Abby’s nephew.”

  “Right. I’m on my way to visit her and thought I’d stop by and touch base with you. Mind if I come in for a minute?”

  She did. Her reluctance was instinctive, the need to keep him outside almost overwhelming. She glanced at Merry, who had stopped barking and was eyeing the newcomer warily. “I was planning to take my puppy for a walk.”

  It was a lie and she was sure Adam knew it. His smile didn’t waver, though, and he stepped up onto the back porch.

  “I really won’t take much of your time. I’ve got a meeting after I visit Abby, so I’m on a tight schedule.”

  She shrugged. “Come in, then. What can I do for you, Mr. Meade?”

  “Adam.”

  “Adam. What can I do for you?”

  “Shane told me you’re going to take part in Abby’s care.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m worried about my aunt. She’s taken a turn for the worse lately. Living in the past more. Wandering from home. In my opinion, she should be in a facility designed to care for people with her condition.”

  “That’s a decision the family has to make.”

  “But don’t you think being here, being so close to her past is making her worse? Don’t you think that moving her to less familiar surroundings will help draw her back to the present?”

  “It’s good for Abby to be near things and people she recognizes. But, as I said, that’s the family’s decision.”

  Adam’s face tightened at her words, and his eyes, already cold,
gleamed with an expression that made Raven shiver. When he spoke, his words were calm and smooth, but the ice beneath them was unmistakable.

  “I’d hoped you’d see my point and help me get Abby the intervention she needs.”

  “I’m sorry, that’s something I can’t do.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “I’m a nurse. My job is to provide health care, support, maybe even a willing ear. What I can’t provide are answers. That’s something you and the rest of your family have to do.”

  “I’m disappointed. I don’t like to waste my time.”

  “It isn’t a waste. We got a chance to meet again. Now when Abby mentions you, I’ll know who she’s talking about.”

  Raven had meant the comment to lighten the tension. Instead Adam’s expression changed, slid from cool anger to something she couldn’t define.

  “Like I said, I hate to waste my time. Obviously, that’s what I’m doing. I need to get going. If you change your mind, call me.” He slid a business card across the counter and stalked out the back door.

  Raven hurried to the door and locked it behind Adam. Then she closed the kitchen window and checked the other doors and windows in the house. With the windows and doors locked against some unnamed threat, she fed Merry, grabbed paper and pen, and began making a list of what needed to be replaced.

  But even as she listed items, her mind wandered back to Adam’s visit—to his odd insistence that she support his effort to get Abby into an assisted living facility. What was it with the men in Abby’s life? Each seemed to have his own agenda. Shane had said he’d made a promise to Abby—one he intended to keep. But was that the truth? Raven thought of Officer Marshal and his belief that Shane was motivated by more than simple affection. Raven didn’t believe it.

  And what of Abby’s son? Mark said he loved his mother, that he wanted what was best for her, yet he wasn’t willing to spend the time caring for her.

  And Adam. His concern seemed feigned, his attempt to get Abby into an assisted living facility, odd. What did he have to gain by getting her out of the way? Raven blinked at the thought. Was she conjuring something sinister out of simple concern? There was no denying the runaway car or the ransacked cottage—but did they have something to do with Abby? Or was Raven the target?