Harper Allen - The Night In Question

Max watched her slim figure walk swiftly down the sidewalk to the bus stop, her shoulders hunched. He felt a chill spread through him.

She loved her child. The anguish he’d heard in her voice had been wrenchingly real. Yet her daughter was supposed to have been on the flight with Julia’s husband the night he was killed. For Julia to be guilty, she’d have to have been willing to kill not just her husband, but her child, as well.

The floor beneath his feet seemed to buckle. “She didn’t do it,” he breathed.

And suddenly he was sprinting toward her, calling her name, knowing he had to stop her from walking out of his life again.

Dear Reader,

We have a fabulous fall lineup for you this month and throughout the season, starting with a new Navajo miniseries by Aimée Thurlo called SIGN OF THE GRAY WOLF. Two loners are called to action in the Four Corners area of New Mexico to take care of two women in jeopardy. Look for Daniel “Lightning” Eagle’s story in When Lightning Strikes and Burke Silentman’s next month in Navajo Justice.

The explosive CHICAGO CONFIDENTIAL continuity series concludes with Adrianne Lee’s Prince Under Cover. We just know you are going to love this international story of intrigue and the drama of a royal marriage—to a familiar stranger…. Don’t forget: a new Confidential branch will be added to the network next year!

Also this month—another compelling book from newcomer Delores Fossen. In A Man Worth Remembering, she reunites an estranged couple after amnesia strikes. Together, can they find the strength to face their enduring love—and find their kidnapped secret child? And can a woman on the edge recover the life and child she lost when she was framed for murder, in Harper Allen’s The Night in Quesiton? She can if she has the help of the man who put her away.

Pulse pounding, mind-blowing and always breathtaking—that’s Harlequin Intrigue.

Enjoy,

Denise O’Sullivan

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Harper Allen lives in the country in the middle of a hundred acres of maple trees with her husband, Wayne, six cats, four dogs—and a very nervous cockatiel at the bottom of the food chain. For excitement she and Wayne drive to the nearest village and buy jumbo bags of pet food. She believes in love at first sight, because it happened to her.

Julia Tennant—She’s spent the past two years in prison. Now she’s out and determined to find her child—with the help of the man who once tore her world apart.

Max Ross—The FBI agent had Julia convicted of a crime she didn’t commit. Falling in love with her was an even bigger mistake.

Willa—Four years old when she was taken from her mother, Willa now seems to be the target of a killer—and her mother is in a race against time to find her and save her.

Noel Tennant—He lost a corporate battle against his brother Kenneth. Did he seek his revenge in a murder plot?

Barbara Van Hale—Kenneth’s sister, Barbara lost her own husband when the bomb went off. After fearfully testifying against Julia, Babs was put into a witness protection program along with the little girl she now has custody of—Julia’s daughter, Willa.

Olivia Tennant—The Tennant family matriarch, she’s destroyed each of her children’s lives one by one. But did she arrange to have her own son eliminated?

Peter Symington—Blind since birth, Noel’s friend may be the only one who sees the truth.

To Ann Leslie, with thanks and appreciation.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

She looked nothing like he remembered.

Max Ross studied the unnaturally still figure of the woman sitting across from him while their waitress carelessly slapped down a couple of cups of coffee on the stained tabletop.

“Anything else?” The waitress’s nametag said, Hi! I’m Cherie—Have a Great Day! There was a smear of ketchup on the collar of her uniform, and her mouth was bracketed with two dissatisfied lines. Max doubted if she could make anyone’s day great. Certainly she wasn’t having an uplifting effect on the silent woman across from him. Except for pulling the thick cup and saucer closer toward her with one finger, Julia hadn’t given the slightest indication that she was taking any notice of either him or the incongruously named Cherie. It was as if there was an invisible shell around her, a shell that nothing was allowed to penetrate.

So what? He didn’t give a damn if Julia Tennant never had a good day the rest of her life, he thought coldly. Just walking around Boston as a free woman was way more than she deserved.

“That’s all, thanks.” Without raising his eyes he held out a twenty. “Keep the table next to us empty for half an hour.”

The twenty was plucked out of his hand, but the waitress didn’t move. “No guarantees, mister. If one of my tables is free then I lose out on tips. Making a living is tough these days, right, girlfriend?”

This last was addressed to Julia in an attempt at female solidarity. When Max saw the chipped red nails rest lightly on Julia’s shoulder he started to say something.

He was too late.

“Get the hand off. Now!”

She was still staring down at her coffee cup and he could swear those pale lips hadn’t moved, but the words had hissed out in a shockingly threatening undertone and the spoon she’d been using to stir her coffee was clenched in her fist. Before he could intervene, Julia lifted her eyes to the frozen waitress.

“I’m not your girlfriend, honey. And I don’t like being touched.” A lank strand of hair fell into her eyes but she ignored it. “If you want to sweeten the deal you can probably get ten bucks more out of him, but don’t push your luck.”

No one else in the place seemed to have noticed the incident, and Max wanted to keep it that way. He handed the shaken Cherie another bill. “Half an hour. This is private, okay?”

“Okay.” The white-faced woman flicked a frightened glance at Julia, now hunched over her coffee again as if nothing at all had occurred. “Private. Sure, mister.”

She turned and made a beeline for the swinging doors to the kitchen, ignoring the disgruntled looks of other customers who were trying to get her attention.

“Lousy coffee.” Julia patted the breast pocket of the cheap windbreaker she was wearing and pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes. Sticking one in her mouth, she lit a match with the economical movements he was beginning to associate with her, squinting against the smoke. She didn’t leave the pack on the table, Max noticed, instead tucking it securely back into the pocket it had come from.