Sandra Orchard - Fatal Inheritance

“YOU DON’T BELONG HERE.”

Someone wants to stop Becki Graw from claiming her inheritance. Police officer Joshua Rayne is just as determined to keep his beautiful neighbor safe. She may not be the tomboy Josh remembers, but she’s just as stubborn. Becki is intent on keeping her grandparents’ remote farmhouse—no matter the danger. Becki’s feelings for her childhood crush may be rekindled, but she’s seen too much to risk opening her heart. As the threats against Becki escalate, the list of suspects grows longer. Josh must convince Becki to trust him with her heart—and her life—before a madman ends their chance at happiness...permanently.

“When did you get this?”

Becki caught Josh’s arm long enough to get a look at the note. “It was in the mailbox when I got here. Courtesy of my sister.”

Josh frowned. “Why would she say you don’t belong here?”

“Because if I sell, she thinks she’ll get more money.”

“Who else knew you were moving in today?”

“I don’t know.” Becki rubbed her worsening headache. “My boss, my roommate, my mom.”

“No one from around here?”

“Not that I know of. Like I told my sister, I’m here to stay.”

Josh sat beside Becki on the sofa, and her heart jumped at the touch of his knee. “Who else might have sent this note?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…who didn’t want you moving here badly enough to attack you?”

She dug her fingers into the seat cushion. “You think the note and the incident in the barn are connected?”

Obviously he did. Which meant whoever was slinking around the property had been expecting her.

SANDRA ORCHARD

hails from the beautiful countryside of Niagara, Ontario, where inspiration abounds for her romantic suspense novels—not that she runs into any bad guys, but because her imagination is free to run as wild as her Iditarod-wannabe husky. Sandra lives with her real-life hero husband, who happily provides both romantic and suspense inspiration, as long as it doesn’t involve poisons and his dinner. But her truest inspiration comes from the Lord, in the beauty of a sunrise over the field and the whisper of a breeze, in the antics of a killdeer determined to safeguard its nest and the faithfulness of the seasons. She enjoys writing stories that both keep the reader guessing and reveal God’s love and faithfulness through the lives of her characters.

Sandra loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website, or at www.Facebook.com/SandraOrchardor c/o Love Inspired Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

Fatal Inheritance

Sandra Orchard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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You will be consoled when you see their conduct and their actions, for you will know that I have done nothing in it without cause.

—Ezekiel 14:23

To my stepsister, Rebecca-Becki-Bec, for letting me borrow all her names.

With special thanks to Karen and Alf Acres for giving me a ride in their “horseless carriage” and answering all my antique car questions, along with Albert Unrau. Also to my wonderful critique buddies, Eileen, Laurie, Vicki and Wenda, who help smooth all the story’s rough edges. And to the NRP officers who tirelessly answer my police questions.

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

EPILOGUE

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

At the sight of her grandparents’ old farmhouse, with its wide front porch and empty rocking chairs, Becki Graw blinked back bittersweet tears. All her life she’d longed to live in Serenity’s beautiful countryside, but not like this. She stopped at the roadside mailbox and grabbed the mail—a single letter addressed to her. No return address.

That’s strange. Who would know to write to her here? She slid her thumb under the flap and pulled out the single typewritten page.

You don’t belong here.

Her heart jolted at the cold, black words. Who—

She crushed the note in her fist. Sarah. Becki floored the gas and veered into the driveway, then punched her sister’s number on her cell phone.

Sarah answered on the first ring.

“You’ve sunk to new lows,” Becki fumed.

“I warned you I’d go to the lawyer if you didn’t agree to sell and split everything fifty-fifty. You should’ve listened to me.”

Becki ground to a stop in front of the white two-story willed to her by Gran and Gramps. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t left her sister anything. She’d gotten most of the liquid assets, not to mention all the financial help when her husband was in law school. Even if Becki sold the house, Sarah probably wouldn’t come out that much further ahead.

While Becki would lose the only place that had ever felt like home.

She looked at the darkened windows and empty porch and swallowed a rush of grief. “I’m talking about the note.”

“What note? I didn’t send any note.”

“Right. Because people are lining up to scare me out of here.”

To think she’d once idolized her beautiful older sister. No more. At twenty-seven, Becki could finally see Sarah for who she really was—a spoiled trophy wife as materialistic and money-grubbing as her flashy lawyer husband. “Gran and Gramps wanted this house to stay in the family, and I’m here to stay whether you like it or not.” Becki punched the power button and jumped from her packed-to-the-roof car.

Inhaling the sweet scent of summer in Ontario’s farm country, she shoved Sarah’s threats from her mind and turned to the home she loved so dearly.

If only the carbon-monoxide detector had worked the way it was supposed to, Gran and Gramps would be bustling outside to wrap her in their arms this very moment.

Becki scrunched her eyes closed as memories flooded her mind. Swinging from the barn loft into a pile of hay. Fishing in the creek with Gramps. Collecting fragrant bouquets of bouncing bets for Gran. Her summers here had been her happiest. More than once she’d begged to be allowed to live here always.

But not like this—not without them. She pressed her arm against the ache in her chest.

The sun dipped behind the trees with a splash of brilliant reds and purples as if Gramps himself was painting a welcome-home banner across the sky.

I can do this. I want to do this.

Let Sarah call her crazy for quitting her admin job and giving up the lease on her apartment. So what if she’d never find a husband in the boonies? Maybe she didn’t want one. If Sarah’s and Mom’s unhappy marriage experiences were anything to go by, she was better off single.

Besides, Sarah didn’t really care whether Becki found a husband or a decent job in Serenity. All she cared about was squeezing more inheritance out of their grandparents’ estate.

Indignant-sounding meows drifted from the weathered hipped-roof barn behind the house.