Carol J. Post - Lethal Legacy

About the Author CAROL J. POST writes fun and fast-paced inspirational romantic suspense stories and lives in sunshiny central Florida. She sings and plays the piano for her church and also enjoys sailing, hiking and camping—almost anything outdoors. Her daughters and grandkids live too far away for her liking, so she now pours all that nurturing into taking care of two fat and sassy cats and one highly spoiled dachshund.

Booklist Also By Carol J. Post Booklist Title Page Copyright Introduction Dear Reader Bible Verse Dedication ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN Extract About the Publisher Love Inspired Suspense Midnight Shadows Motive for Murder Out for Justice Shattered Haven Hidden Identity Mistletoe Justice Buried Memories Reunited by Danger Fatal Recall Lethal Legacy Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Title Page Lethal Legacy Carol J. Post www.millsandboon.co.uk

Copyright ISBN: 978-1-474-08598-4 LETHAL LEGACY © 2018 Carol J. Post Published in Great Britain 2018 by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental. By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher. ® and ™ 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 Version: 2020-03-02

Introduction The lights in Andi’s house went out, leaving only the glow of the fire. Bryce reached for Andi, tension spiking through him. “Stay here.” He pulled his flashlight from his pocket and clicked it on. There were no storms in the area. He’d stepped from his car under a clear sky, an almost half-moon casting its soft glow over the landscape. No reason for the power to go out. “What happened?” Andi’s voice was paper-thin, with an underlying quiver. “I’m going to look out and see if there’s light in my direction.” Bryce darted down the hall to the master bedroom. When he swept aside the curtains, his uneasiness ratcheted up several notches. A soft glow shone through the trees: his own porch light. His power was on. So what happened to Andi’s? Out front, glass shattered, followed by an almost simultaneous scream. He dropped the curtains into place and ran from the room, panic pounding at his heels. At the end of the hall, flames engulfed the love seat that separated the living room from the dining area.

Dear Reader Dear Reader Contents Cover Back Cover Text About the Author Booklist Title Page Copyright Introduction Dear Reader Bible Verse Dedication ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN Extract About the Publisher , I hope you’ve enjoyed returning to Murphy, North Carolina. A number of years ago, while visiting the area, my husband and I went in with four other family members and bought a dilapidated old cabin on twelve acres. While at the building supply store, we told them about our project, and the guy asked if we knew about the gold. We talked to some people, one of whom was a retired geologist who lived across the street at the time. Sure enough, turns out thar’s gold in them thar hills! We found where mining had happened at one end of the property and also on the geologist’s land. There’s still gold, but it’s about one thousand feet down, buried in a vein of quartz. I hope you’ve enjoyed Bryce and Andrea’s story. I love reunion stories, and this one was a lot of fun to write. Both Andrea and Bryce had acquired a lot of baggage over the years and had to work hard to learn to trust again. I hope you’ll come back in December to reconnect with some of your favorite Murphy residents in the third and final book in the series. Love in Christ, Carol J. Post

Bible Verse Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. —Isaiah 41:10

Dedication Writing is a solitary activity, but a lot of support goes into writing and publishing a book. A huge thank-you to my “team”: My sister, Kim Wolff, for all your help with my Murphy research. The rest of my family for your unending encouragement. My critique partners, Karen Fleming and Sabrina Jarema, for making my stories the best they can be. My beta reader/proofreader, Martha “Mom” Post, for catching the things the rest of us miss. My amazing editor, Dina Davis, and lovely agent, Nalini Akolekar, for all your hard work. And my wonderful husband, Chris, for thirty-seven amazing years.

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ONE

Trees lined both sides of the gravel drive. Their half-bare limbs framed the old house at its end and lent a spooky edge to the air of abandonment that hung over the property. A branch dangled from an oak, curled leaves barely visible against the moonlit sky.

Andrea Wheaton slowed her Escalade to a crawl. It didn’t help. The long screech against the roof set her teeth on edge and sent a shiver down her spine.

At the end of the drive, she released a sigh as childhood memories bombarded her. The old Wheaton place projected a rustic hominess that had always called to her. It didn’t hold a candle to their place in Atlanta, with its soaring columns and manicured grounds, but she’d always loved it. It had represented freedom, the one place she could let down her guard and simply be Andi.

Now it was hers. Six days later, and she was still reeling from the news.

She retrieved her small suitcase from the back seat and carried it to a porch covered with a three-inch-deep blanket of dead leaves. A swing hung from one end, and two Adirondack rockers sat side by side in the center. Judging from the layer of debris on each, neither the swing nor the rockers had been used for some time.

She laid the bag down and then pulled a wooden key chain from her purse. It was cut into the shape of North Carolina, the word Murphy burned onto its face. For twelve years, the key had lain in the bottom of her jewelry box, untouched. Partly because she’d been busy, first with college, and then with marriage and job responsibilities. Partly because she’d wanted to avoid the neighbors on both sides.