Pamela Tracy: What Janie Saw

The last person she wanted…was the only one who could keep her safe

Janie Vincent had no use for cops. They’d never done her any favors. But when she uncovers a lead into the disappearance of a girl at the college where she’s a teaching assistant, suddenly Janie’s life depends on the officers of Scorpion Ridge. And one in particular: Sheriff Rafael Salazar.

Rafe knows how much destruction a missing-persons case can cause a family, and so to solve this case, he’s determined to stick to Janie like glue. She’s clearly not a fan of the 24/7 surveillance, but he intends to break down her distrust. And maybe they’ll discover that what Janie saw can be the key to healing them both.

“I should never have opened his art book,” Janie muttered.

“But you did,” Rafe said, “so now we’ll deal with it.” He smiled, trying to communicate that she wasn’t alone, that he’d do his job, take care of her.

Then she gave him a glare that almost stopped him in his tracks. He was used to people being grateful, looking up to him, believing him, wanting to be taken care of, trusting him. Janie Vincent didn’t trust him.

Before he was quite ready, she stood, practically tapping her foot in impatience. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

“You want me to stay, Janie?” her sister asked.

“No, you go on back to work. I’ll find—”

“I’ll make sure she gets home,” Rafe asserted.

Janie’s eyes narrowed. For some reason, Miss Vincent didn’t appreciate his offer. And that made no sense at all.

Dear Reader,

I read a lot because I’m in love with words. I love old, used cookbooks where someone has written notes in the margin. I love diaries and letters and newspaper so that the past comes alive for me.

Besides writing for Mills & Boon, I’m an English professor. I read a lot there, too. I have students who, by far, write better than me. I’ve read about midnight border crossings (I’m in Arizona) and about midnight escapes from the Lost Boys of Africa. I’ve read about near-death experiences, special-needs children and about the path back to sobriety. Best of all, I’ve read about the dreams and goals of our future generation. I’ve also read a few things I wish had not wound up under my red pen. But, while the idea for What Janie Saw came to me one evening after a marathon grading session, I’ve never read a murder confession.

Like Janie, I entered teaching through the back door. But it doesn’t matter how you came to the classroom—it matters what you do while you’re there. Janie makes all the right moves. She cares about her students even while trying to pursue her own dream. I think, for Janie, chasing the dream, questioning the dream and then reinventing the dream is what makes her grow. See, her childhood wasn’t of the soil that allowed dreams to grow. She had much to overcome.

Rafael Salazar is too busy being sheriff to have dreams. He has to save the world. His world is the small town of Scorpion Ridge, Arizona. Soon he has to save Janie, and she could become his world if he’s smart enough to realize it and change.

My story is complete fiction with the world of what-ifs, flawed people and love triumphing. It’s about hope and change and romance.

My editor, Adrienne Macintosh, is a master, full of ideas for cementing conflict. Mills & Boon Heartwarming is an awesome place to be. If you’d like to meet some of the Heartwarming authors, please visit www.heartwarmingauthors.blogspot.com. If you’d like to learn more about me, please visit www.pamelatracy.com. I love to hear from readers!

Pamela

What Janie Saw

Pamela Tracy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

PAMELA TRACY

is an award-winning author who lives with her husband (who claims to be the inspiration for most of her heroes) and son (who claims to be the interference for most of her writing time). She started writing at a very young age (a series of romances, all with David Cassidy as the hero, though sometimes Bobby Sherman would elbow in). Then, while earning a B.A. in journalism at Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Texas, she picked up writing again—this time it was a very bad science-fiction novel.

She went back to her love and was first published in 1999. Since then, Pamela has had more than twenty romance novels in print. She’s a winner of the American Christian Fiction Writers Carol Award and has been a RITA ® Award finalist. Readers can find her at www.heartwarmingauthors.blogspot.comor www.pamelatracy.com.

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To Rachel Pekera,

an extraordinary second grade teacher,

who stole my son’s heart and taught him to

believe in himself and much more.

Thank you.

Contents

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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER ONE

KILLING SOMEONE IS not nearly as simple in real life as it is on television.

“What the...” Janie Vincent sputtered. She grabbed her coffee cup, more for comfort than for the caffeine at this late hour, and ordered herself to stop reading.

But she was already hooked.

She glanced back at the art book’s cover. Yup, this was Derek’s book, the one he’d done as an assignment for the Intermediate Canvas class Janie was assisting in. His first two pages had stayed true to the assignment: he’d drawn thumbnail sketches of what he was working on for the class’s main project. Page three was where he’d strayed. Oh, he’d included thumbnail drawings amidst his prose. But prose didn’t belong in the workbook unless he was summarizing his ideas for future drawings. She seemed to be looking at a mixture of fact and fiction, original art complementing a master. Derek had drawn windy, mountainous roads with sharp curves, a dark four-door car, and a re-creation of The Scream by Edvard Munch.

The re-creation had more hair.

He had, however, made no indication of what medium he intended to use or final dimension. Maybe he was planning a graphic novel?

Even though it was obvious that Derek had not adhered to the assignment guidelines, she continued to read:

For one thing, murder is black-and-white and mostly soundless after the bullet fires. Maybe the sound of the report temporarily deafens you? Or maybe you go into shock?

Derek, by far, was her darkest student. What he created in class always centered on battle scenes. Occasionally, he included bleeding dragons and eerie castles in the distance.

But they didn’t scare her as much as the drawings in this art book. Derek had somehow managed to make his stick figures ominous. Frowning, she stopped reading long enough to take another a sip of coffee. Her hand, clutching the cup, shook a little. Then, because anyone could be watching, she glanced around the student union to make sure no one had noticed her shocked response. She’d hate for a student to think she was this aghast over his homework.