Just her luck to have the most bizarre criminal case to ever happen in Winchester. Her family would likely end up a part of some documentary.

  Not at all the fame she’d hoped for when she ran off to Hollywood.

  Naomi knocked on the front door of the Tanner home and waited. She was bone tired. When she got home she was having a long, hot shower to relax her muscles and her mind. Maybe some wine to take off the edge.

  The door opened and a very pregnant blonde woman smiled at her. “Naomi Honea. Nice to finally meet you.”

  See, the sheriff’s wife already knew her. “Likewise,” Naomi offered.

  She didn’t know very much about Audrey except that her family had owned the local newspaper forever, it seemed. Like Naomi, Audrey had left Winchester to follow her own dreams but then returned to take over the family business.

  They apparently had a good deal in common.

  “Do you have a few minutes to talk?” Naomi asked, hoping her impromptu visit wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience.

  “Sure. Come in. Colt is still at work but I’m on maternity leave and bored stiff.”

  Naomi hoped one day to have children of her own. That dream seemed a long way off these days.

  “I’m sure Sheriff Tanner has filled you in on what’s happening at the farm.”

  “To the degree that he can, yes. Please have a seat.”

  They settled into chairs facing each other near the fireplace.

  “Has your paper in, say, the past thirty or so years done a story on Holocaust survivors living in the area?”

  Audrey thought about the question for a bit. “We did. I think it was about ten years ago.”

  “Could you share names with me so that I might speak—?”

  “I’m afraid they’ve both passed away since then. But I can round up next of kin for you if that would help.”

  “I’d appreciate it. I’m trying to make sense of all this and it’s just not happening.”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t until the final piece of the puzzle is discovered. I’ll locate the information and text it to you.”

  They shared cell phone numbers and Audrey showed Naomi to the door. Back in the county cruiser she thought of how lonely life would be on the farm now. Her parents were gone. Arlene was gone.

  If there was even a farm left when this was over.

  Chapter Twelve

  Honea Farm, 8:15 p.m.

  Thirty-five minutes ago, Naomi had arrived home. Her first thought as she stood on the porch was, What now? All the official personnel and vehicles appeared to be gone for the day. Her surveillance detail had told her that Casey was still in the teleconference in town with the sheriff and the chief. A moment later as she entered the house, it occurred to her that it had been days since either of them had the opportunity for a decent meal. She had no idea why food even entered her mind. It certainly hadn’t before now.

  Even so, she rummaged through the fridge and the freezer to see what she had on hand. Stocking the shelves had been the last thing on her mind, but now, tonight, she was suddenly starving.

  It was weird. Her emotions and senses had been in some sort of partial limbo and suddenly they were all roaring at once.

  She was hungry. She was confused. She was alone.

  All of it swirled inside her like a cyclone.

  Thankfully she dug up a box of frozen lasagna that was not out of date. Frozen rolls that only had to be browned and frozen green beans that could be steamed in the microwave. It wouldn’t be five-star cuisine, but it would be edible.

  She had forty-five minutes before the lasagna would need to come out of the oven. A shower was essential to her feeling human again. Sweats would be comfy. While the water in the shower heated up, she grabbed a comfy pair of sweats and fuzzy socks. The weather app on her phone alerted her to cooler than usual temps tonight. Since the rain set in, the weather had been unseasonably cool. Maybe she’d have her first fire of the season. One of the things she loved best about this old farmhouse was the big fireplace in the living room.

  Wine, too. Definitely wine.

  The water felt fantastic as she closed her eyes and allowed it to sluice over her body. For a long time she only stood there, allowing the heat to envelop and relax her. Her muscles loosened and the insanity of the day slowly started to drain away. She washed her hair, working her fingers over her scalp, massaging and kneading.

  She continued on to her neck muscles, urging the tightness and the tension away. Before she could stop herself she imagined how it would feel to have Casey’s long fingers and wide hands moving over her body this way. She sighed and smiled a secret smile.

  Maybe it was the desperation she had felt for days now or the shock radiating through her again and again as each day brought some new harsh reality. Another stunning jolt...another murder. Somehow at this moment it coalesced into a need so strong she could hardly contain it.

  She placed her hands against the cool shower walls and took slow deep breaths until control was hers once more. A few moments passed and she felt ready to face the world again. She refused to allow the events of this week to take her down. Her parents had worked too hard to make this farm what it was. She owed them her every effort to right things once more.

  After drying her skin, she stood before the mirror and considered her hair. Wild and even redder when it was wet. She toweled it dry and applied the tiniest bit of product to stave off the frizzies. The sweats felt soft and warm and the fuzzy socks were the finishing touch.

  Descending the stairs, the smell of lasagna filled the air. It wasn’t homemade but it sure smelled good. Her stomach rumbled. She took the final step down and stalled.

  A blast of cold air slipped around her, made her shiver. She walked to the front door and ensured it was fully closed. Then she headed for the kitchen. She froze in the doorway.

  The back door stood open.

  For three beats she couldn’t move...couldn’t even scream.

  The timer sounded on the oven, shattering the eerie silence.

  Naomi forced one foot in front of the other until she reached the door. She pushed it closed. Locked it.

  Had she failed to shut it properly?

  No. She had come through the front door. She hadn’t touched the back door.

  Someone had been in the house.

  She reached into the pocket of her hoodie and closed her fingers around her phone. Then she went to the counter and pulled out the biggest knife in the block. The silver blade gleamed against the light.

  With her back to the sink versus one or the other exits from the room, she moved to the stove and silenced the timer, then reached for the knob to turn off the oven.

  It was already off.

  She stared at the knob. Closed her eyes. Looked again. Off.

  This was an old stove. Not one of the new ones that turned off the oven when the timer signaled. You had to manually turn off the stove. The timer was just a timer.

  The blood pounding in her ears, she moved toward the front door. The deputy on duty was right outside. No more than a dozen yards from the porch. All she had to do was go outside and wave to him.

  She backed across the living room, splitting her attention between the kitchen door, the hall and the stairs. Those were the only three usable routes to get to her...if someone was in the house.

  Her back bumped the door. She reached behind her, flipped the lock. In one fast move she whirled around and pulled the door open. She was on the porch and moving forward. Didn’t bother waving. She rushed down the steps and across the grass in nothing but her fuzzy socks. She didn’t stop until she reached the deputy’s car.

  Where was he?

  She moved closer. Peered through the window.

  Empty.

  She checked the back seat.

  Nothing.

  Fear pulsed in her veins.

  Before she could consider another option, she got in behind the wheel and hit the lock button.

  She called 911.

  Honea Farm, 10:30 p.m.

  CASEY BURST OUT of his SUV before it stopped rocking in the driveway. He rushed to the county cruiser. Naomi stared up at him, blue eyes wide with fear.

  “Unlock the door,” he said gently.

  The click sounded and Casey pulled the door open. He grabbed her and pulled her out of the car.

  Deputies and officers poured across the property to start the search for the missing deputy. The security detail who had apparently vanished.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. Dropped the big knife she’d been clutching. It clattered on the ground. “I am now.”

  “Let’s get you inside.” He urged her forward, to the house.

  By the time they reached the porch Tanner was coming through the door.

  “House is clear.”

  “Thanks.” Casey breathed a little easier.

  Naomi looked from him to Tanner and back. “Where’s the deputy who was here? The one who drove me home?”

  Tanner gave her a nod. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

  Inside the smell of marinara sauce reminded Casey that he hadn’t eaten since before lunch. Didn’t matter.

  Naomi dropped into her chair and he sat down across from her. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I put food in the oven and went upstairs for a shower.” She shivered. “When I came down the back door was open. I closed and locked it. Thought maybe I hadn’t shut it properly. But the stove was turned off. I didn’t turn it off. Then I realized I came in through the front door. I hadn’t been near the back door since I came home. Someone was in the house while I was in the shower.”

  “Let’s take a walk through and see if anything is missing.”

  “If something happened to the deputy or if he is dead...” A shudder quaked through her.

  “Let’s hope he’s after whoever came into the house.”

  She nodded.

  They moved from room to room, checking the closets, drawers, cabinets. In the downstairs study Naomi stopped.

  “He was in here.” She glanced around. “Assuming the intruder was a he.”

  “Can you determine if anything is missing or what he may have been looking for?”

  “It’ll take a minute.”

  “Take your time.”

  Tanner stuck his head in the door and Casey stepped into the hall to join him. “I hope we don’t have another body.” The count was already far too high, and they were no closer to finding the answers they needed.

  “Almost. We found the missing deputy. He’ll pull through but he took a hell of a blow to the back of the head. He spotted someone at the rear corner of the house and went after him. He didn’t get a look at his face, just a general size. It was an ambush. Looks like it bought the perp some time to get into the house.”

  Damn it. “Keep me posted on the deputy’s status.”

  Tanner assured him he would and headed back outside. Casey returned to the study to see if Naomi had discovered anything missing.

  “The deputy’s going to be okay?”

  “Looks that way. He confirmed there was an intruder. Have you noticed anything missing?”

  “I can’t be certain, but it really looks like he only riffled through papers. Whatever he was looking for must not have been here.”

  “We’ll check for prints,” Casey said, “but chances are he protected his identity with gloves.”

  This was what they’d found throughout the lab and other areas of the property. No prints other than those of the people who worked there.

  Within the hour the deputies and officers had cleared out for the night. Naomi had insisted on finishing the dinner and sitting down to a civilized meal. The bottle of wine surprised him.

  “Would you like to share notes from our afternoons?” She tested a bite of lasagna.

  “We found evidence to prove Cotton not only knew Arlene, but he had also been watching her for years. He left endless accountings of dates and codes. The final pages from the past month were all the same.”

  Naomi looked at him expectantly waiting for him to go on.

  “‘She has to die. She has to die. She has to die.’ Every entry was exactly the same.”

  “Is it possible he killed her?” She lowered her fork back to the table. “He seemed so overwrought when I told him she was dead.”

  “Maybe he was upset because he felt we were on to him.”

  “But we weren’t.” She frowned. “So, if he was Arlene’s killer, who broke into my house tonight?”

  “A very good question to which I do not have an answer.” He took a bite of lasagna and made a satisfied sound. “This is really good.”

  “Please. It came from a box in the freezer.” She suddenly looked paler than usual. “I’ll never be able to reach into the freezer and think nothing of it again.”

  He smiled reassuringly. “You seemed to have managed tonight.”

  “Maybe.” She speared a green bean and brought it to her lips.

  He watched with far too much interest. Caught himself and focused on his plate. “GPR picked up on some anomalies near your grotto so we’re excavating a small location to have a look.”

  “GPR?”

  “Ground-penetrating radar. It’s a way of looking beneath the surface of a location without digging randomly.”

  “Wow.” Emotions flickered across her face. “I’m beginning to wonder when this nightmare is going to end.”

  He understood this entire situation was incredibly overwhelming. Murder and puzzles like this were his work. Steps, routines and methods he went through with each case. For her, it was foreign, intrusive, more than a little scary.

  “How about you?” he asked, moving on. “You learn anything useful today?”

  “I talked to the nurse who worked closely with my mom when she had the clinic. She operates an assisted living facility now. She only had good things to say. She was unaware of any problems and didn’t know Arlene very well. She did mention that Arlene had a bit of an accent in the beginning but not one she could readily identify.”

  “Sometimes you have to beat the bushes for a while before something pops out.”

  “No kidding.” She sipped her wine. “I told my uncle what we had learned and suspected so far. He wasn’t a lot of help, but he did mention that there were two Holocaust survivors in the Winchester area. I spoke to Audrey Tanner, the sheriff’s wife. She owns the local newspaper. She confirmed what Uncle Donnie said, but unfortunately, the two had passed away. She’s going to look up the names for me and get us the information.”

  “We should hear more from my sources in the Bureau tomorrow. I have my doubts as to whether this relates back to Beck’s family history, but it’s important that we thoroughly investigate every possibility.”

  “I guess the mob connection is more likely.” She picked at her lasagna.

  “You don’t agree?” He sipped the wine. One glass was his limit.

  “I’m not sure. It feels like this is bigger than the mob connection. Arlene is dead. Why keep coming back? Why murder Mr. Cotton?”

  “If he was murdered,” Casey countered.

  “If,” she agreed.

  “The only reason for anyone to persist beyond her murder is if there’s something more they need or want. Something she hid from them.”

  “So, we keep looking.” She cradled her wineglass.

  “We keep looking until we’ve done all we can to find answers. At this point we have at least six victims. I want to make sure it ends now.”

  From this point forward if he had to be away from her for any reason, he would have a second deputy or officer stand in his place. The risk was too great. Whoever was behind this business, he wasn’t finished yet. He had come into this house with her here and alone and left without harming her. Casey would like to say that meant he had no intention of hurting her. But he wasn’t fool enough to believe anything of the sort. Without a doubt, he was searching for something.

  People who killed to accomplish a goal sometimes had rules, lines they didn’t cross and even a modicum of honor. But those same people would typically do whatever necessary to protect themselves.

  “I suppose when this case is over, you’re off.”

  Casey watched her as she gingerly tasted another green bean. “Back to Nashville,” he agreed.

  “You have someone there?” She dared to look at him this time.

  “My mom. My dad died a couple of years ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thanks. And I have a sister—if you remember—who is bossy and nosy and better to me than I deserve.”

  A smile spread across Naomi’s face. “I do remember her. Blonde? Very pretty? About sixteen that long ago summer?”

  “That’s the one. She’s married, has four kids and thinks she knows everything. I cannot tell you the number of blind dates she has arranged for me. Generally, without my advance knowledge.”

  Naomi laughed out loud this time. “She sounds like a wonderful sister. She and your mother have probably got your wedding planned already. They just have to find the right bride.”

  “I’d lay odds on it.”

  They picked at their foot in silence. Casey imagined she was as exhausted as he was, but he wasn’t ready to crash. He wanted to talk to her. To be with her.

  “What about you?” he said. Turnabout was fair play, right?

  “Me?” She shrugged. “I’ve been so busy with the farm I haven’t had time to think about a personal life.”

  “You mean all the single guys in Winchester haven’t been knocking on your door?”

  “Are there single guys in Winchester? I’m pretty sure they’re all taken. Not that I’ve been looking, mind you.”

  The pink blush that crept over her cheeks told him she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the conversation.