Diane had lured Pierce to the inn to ensure there were plenty of suspects. Ultimately, she had hoped to see that Grace was charged with whatever had to be done—like murdering Pierce and Gibbons. Killing Adam wasn’t part of Diane’s plan. Adele had gone rogue with that one.

  The FBI agent in charge had explained to Grace that she had nothing to worry about as far as Adam’s followers. Any he had garnered eventually lost interest and moved on to newer and bigger headline grabbers. The others who wrote letters were just the typical jailhouse fangirls.

  That part gave Grace some sense of relief. The rest, she thought as she stared at her sleeping child, was terrifying. She’d never wanted Liam to know about these people, but she wasn’t sure how she could protect him from something this big. He had a grandmother and an aunt who were murderers.

  Somehow she had to find a way to keep them from his life. Those people were responsible for her father’s untimely death. They had murdered poor Val.

  The sooner the two were extradited back to California, the happier Grace would be.

  She had given her statement to Sheriff Norwood and the FBI, not holding anything back. Rob assured her she had nothing to worry about. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She could take steps to legalize her name change and a good attorney could square things with the IRS related to her business operation the past few years.

  Hopefully the community would see her side of all this and forgive her for all the secrets and lies. Sometimes a person just needed a place to hide and this little community had welcomed her with open arms. She didn’t want to lose that.

  The door opened slowly, and Rob peeked in before stepping into the room. She waved him in and he sat down in the chair next to hers. “I can take you home now.”

  Grace closed her eyes to hold back the tears that had been threatening for hours. When she could speak, she looked to Rob. “I honestly don’t know where home is anymore. How can we go back to the inn with all those reminders of Cara and Diane? Will we ever feel safe there again?”

  Rob took her hand in his. “You know you can trust me, right?”

  Grace didn’t doubt him. She’d shown him the clippings and the locket in his home office, and the sports drink in the refrigerator. They’d figured out that Cara/Adele had set him up as soon as she discovered that Grace and Liam were going there. The excuse that she needed to see about her grandmother was the perfect alibi for slipping out when no one was supposed to leave the inn. The open window in the bathroom at Rob’s cabin should have clued Grace in.

  “I trust you completely,” she assured him.

  “Liam saw nothing bad at the inn—other than the man in the snow. It makes sense that he would feel most at home there. How about we go back to the inn. I’ll stay as a guest in one of the rooms for as long as you need me there.”

  Grace wanted badly to do that but... “Diane and Cara won’t be there.” This would be the hard part for Liam.

  “He’ll get used to them being gone, just as he did Kendall. Eventually you’ll hire a new chef and a new assistant and things will settle down into a normal rhythm. I’ll be there whenever you like.”

  As hard as she understood it would be, Rob was right. She and Liam needed to go home and work through the loss. “You’re right. We should try.”

  “If it doesn’t work out, there’s always my apartment. I’ll gladly put the two of you up there for a while.”

  Grace should never have doubted him. He was such a good man. Liam adored him and that meant a great deal to her.

  She smiled, the first real one in days. “All right. If you’re sure that’s what you want. This is a big undertaking.”

  “I have never wanted anything more in my life.” He hugged her. “Let’s get you home.”

  Home... She hoped she could still call this place home. And she desperately hoped this man would always be a part of it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Lookout Inn

  Mockingbird Lane

  Lookout Mountain, Tennessee

  Thursday, February 29, 5:00 p.m.

  Grace shut down the computer and glanced around the lobby. She was finished for the day.

  As she rounded the end of the counter, Liam came zooming through with his new toy airplane, making, of course, engine sounds. He and Rob had put the plane together two days ago and it had been his favorite toy since.

  Grace wandered to the kitchen with the intention of starting dinner. There were no guests at the inn tonight, but she was fully booked for the weekend. The insanity of the Locke family murders hadn’t hurt business one little bit. But the best part of the past few days was the reaction of the community. Everyone who lived on this part of the mountain had personally visited Grace and praised her bravery and fortitude. It was amazing. She blinked back tears even now. She cried every time she thought about how the community had come together in support of her and Liam. She wasn’t sure how she had been lucky enough to pick this place, but she was certainly glad that she had.

  Next week she intended to start interviewing for a new staff. The Wilborns were well and had returned to work. Their presence had been good for Liam—something constant. Both had gone above and beyond to keep Liam distracted from looking back. Karl planned to have him help with a small vegetable garden. Paula had come up with a plan to build a little chicken coop and enclosed run on the other side of the shed. Liam was thrilled at the idea.

  And Rob. There were not enough ways to convey how much Grace appreciated all he had done. His presence evening after evening had made all the difference.

  The sound of Liam’s excited voice told her Rob was home—here. This wasn’t his home and she had to keep reminding herself not to get too used to him being a part of their daily lives.

  Rob pushed through the door to the kitchen wearing a big grin. “Don’t cook,” he said. “We’re going out to celebrate.”

  Grace smiled. “What are we celebrating?”

  He spread his arms wide. “Seven days free of the past.”

  Grace laughed. “You’re right. We should celebrate.” The idea of what this might mean tugged at her. They were doing great. This was true. “Does this mean you’re ready to move back to your place?”

  She held her breath. He’d spent every single hour off duty here since they came home from the sheriff’s office that night...seven days ago.

  His face turned serious as he stepped closer. “Does that mean you want me to move back to my place?”

  She dared to breathe and without hesitation told him the absolute truth. “No. I like...you...here.”

  He moved closer still. Lowered his head so that his face was close enough to hers to make her heart pound like crazy. “I like being here.”

  She looked up at him...at his lips...into his eyes. “So you’ll stay.”

  That grin spread across his face again. “I will. But don’t worry. I’m not trying to rush things. We can take this as slow as you want.”

  Grace thought about the idea for a moment. Then she shook her head. “Forget the slow part. I’m ready to start the rest of my life.” She draped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer still, kissed him firmly on the mouth.

  That grin of his widened, the feel of it against her lips making her heart skip. “Works for me,” he murmured.

  He kissed her long and deep, and Grace knew with complete certainty that she was really home now.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Wetlands Investigation by Carla Cassidy.

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  Wetlands Investigation

  by Carla Cassidy

  Chapter One

  Private investigator Nick Cain drove slowly down the main street of the small town of Black Bayou, Louisiana. It was his first opportunity getting a look at the place where he’d be living and working for at least the next three months or longer if necessary.

  His first impression was that the buildings all looked a bit old and tired. However, in the distance the swamp that nearly surrounded the town appeared to breathe with life and color. And it was in the swamp he believed he would do much of his investigation. At the very thought of going into the marshland, a wave of nervous energy tightened his stomach muscles.

  He’d been hired by Chief of Police Thomas Gravois to assist in the investigation of four murdered woman. Apparently, a serial murderer was at play in the small town. He would work as an independent contractor and not as a member of the official law enforcement team.

  Before he checked in with Chief Gravois, he needed to find the place he’d rented for his time here. It was Gravois who had turned him on to the room for rent in Irene Tompkin’s home. Irene was a widow who rented out rooms in her house for extra money.

  Once he turned on to Cypress Street, he looked for the correct address. He found it and pulled into the driveway. The widow Tompkin’s home was a nice, large two-story painted beige with brown shutters and trim. An expansive wraparound porch held wicker furniture and a swing that invited a person to sit and enjoy. The neighborhood was nice with well-kept lawns and older homes.

  He decided to introduce himself first before pulling out all his luggage so he got out of the car, walked up to the front door and knocked. The early September sun was hot on his back as he waited for somebody to answer.

  A diminutive woman with a shock of white hair and bright blue eyes opened the door and her wrinkled face wreathed with a friendly smile. “Even though you’re a very handsome young man, I’m sorry but I’m not buying anything today,” she said.

  “That’s good because I’m not selling anything. My name is Nick...”

  “Oh, Mr. Cain,” she replied before he had even fully introduced himself. “I’ve been expecting you.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him over the threshold. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s such an honor for you to stay in my home and the town needs you desperately. Let me show you the room where you’ll be staying.” She continued to pull him toward the large staircase. “How was your trip here?”

  “It was fine,” he replied, and gently pulled his hand from hers as he followed her up to the second floor.

  “Good...good. I baked some cookies earlier. I thought you might want a little snack before you get to your detective work.” They reached the top of the stairs and walked down a short hall, and then she opened a door and gestured him to follow her inside.

  The bedroom sported a king-size bed, a dresser and an en suite bathroom. The beige walls complemented the cool mint-green color scheme. There was also a small table with two chairs in front of the large window that looked out on the street and a door that led to an old iron fire escape staircase to the ground.

  “Is this okay for your needs?” She turned to look at him, her blue eyes filled with obvious apprehension.

  He smiled at her. “This is absolutely perfect.” It was actually far better than he’d expected. His main requirement was that the place be clean, and this space screamed and smelled of cleanliness.

  “Oh good, I’m so glad. Well, I’ll just leave you to get settled in and then we can have a little chat?”

  “Of course,” he replied.

  She scurried out of the room and he followed after her. At the foot of the stairs, she beelined into another area of the house and he went outside to retrieve his luggage.

  Within thirty minutes he was unpacked. He went back downstairs and stood in the entry. “Mrs. Tompkin,” he hollered.

  She appeared in one of the doorways and offered him another bright smile. “Come,” she said. “I’ve got some cookies for you and we can have a little chitchat about house rules and such.”

  The kitchen was large and airy with windows across one wall and a wooden table that sat six. She ushered him into one of the chairs. In the center of the table was a platter of what appeared to be chocolate chip cookies.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked.

  “That sounds nice,” he replied.

  “It’s so easy now to make a cup of coffee with this newfangled coffee maker,” she said as she popped a pod into the machine. She then reached on her tippy-toes and pulled a saucer from one of the cabinets and carried it over to the table.

  “You have a very nice place here,” Nick said.

  She beamed at him as she placed three cookies on the saucer and then set it before him. “Thank you. Me and my husband, Henry, God rest his soul, were very happy here for a lot of years. He passed five years ago from colon cancer.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he replied.

  “It’s okay now. I know he’s up in heaven holding a spot for me. And that reminds me, there’s no Mrs. Tompkin here. Everyone just calls me Nene.”

  “Then Nene it will be,” he replied.

  “I just thought we needed to chat about how things go around here. I have one other boarder. His name is Ralph Summerset. He’s a nice man who mostly stays to himself. He’s retired from the army and now works part-time at the post office. Cream or sugar?” she asked as she set the cup of coffee in front of him.

  “Black is just fine,” he replied.

  She sat on the chair opposite him and smiled at him once again. Nick would guess her to be in her late seventies or early eighties, but she gave off much younger vibes and energy.

  “Anyway, I provide breakfast anytime between six and eight in the mornings and then I cook a nice meal at around five thirty each evening. If you’re here, you can eat, but if you aren’t here, I don’t provide around-the-clock services.”

  “Understandable,” he replied. Even though he wasn’t a bit hungry at the moment, he bit into one of the cookies.

  “I usually require my guests to be home by ten or so, but I’m making an exception for you.” She reached into the pocket of the blue housedress she wore and pulled out a key. “I know with your line of work, your hours are going to be crazy, so take this and then you can come and go as you please. Just make sure when you come in you lock up the door behind you.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that.” He took the key from her and then finished the cookie and took a sip of his coffee. He was eager to get to the police station and find out just what he was dealing with, but he also knew it was important to build relationships with the locals. And that started here with Nene.

  He picked up the second cookie. “These are really delicious,” he said, making her beam a smile at him once again.

  “I enjoy baking, so I hope you like sweets,” she said.

  “I definitely have a sweet tooth,” he replied. “And I’m sorry, but two cookies are enough for me right now.” He took another drink of his coffee.

  “I hope you’re good at detecting things because these murders that are taking place are frightening and something needs to be done to get the Honey Island Swamp Monster murderer behind bars.”

  “Honey Island Swamp Monster?” He gazed at her curiously, having not heard the term before.

  “That’s what everyone is calling the murderer,” she replied.

  “And who or what is the Honey Island Swamp Monster?”

  She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes sparkling like those of a mischievous child. “Legend has it that he was an abandoned child raised by alligators. He’s supposed to be over seven feet tall and weighs about four hundred pounds. He has long dirty gray hair and golden eyes, and he stinks to high heaven.”

  Nick looked at her in disbelief. “Surely nobody really believes that’s what killed those women.”

  Nene leaned back in her chair and released a titter of laughter. “Of course not.” The merriment left her face as she frowned at him. “The sad part is now you got town people thinking somebody from the swamp is responsible and the swamp people think somebody from town is responsible and our chief of police seems to be clueless about all of it.”

  She reached across the table and grabbed one of Nick’s hands. “All that really matters is that there’s somebody out there killing these poor young women and the rumors are the killings are horribly savage. I really hope you can help us, Mr. Cain.” She released his hand.

  “Please, make it Nick,” he replied as he tried to digest everything she’d just told him. He’d learned over the years not to discount any piece of information he got about a particular crime. Even rumors and gossip had a place in a criminal investigation.

  She smiled at him again. “Then Nick it is,” she said. “Anyway, Nick, I read a lot of romance books and you look like the handsome stranger who comes to town and not only saves the day but also finds his one true love. Do you have a one true love, Nick? Is there somebody waiting for you back home?”

  “No, I’m pretty much married to my job.”

  “Well, that’s a darned shame,” she replied. “Now don’t make me stop believing in my romances.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m definitely no romance hero,” he replied. His ex-wife would certainly agree with his assessment of himself. Three years ago, Amy had divorced him because he wasn’t her hero. At that time, he’d permanently written love out of his life.

  His work was what he could depend on and thinking of that, he rose to his feet and grabbed the house key from the table. “If we’re finished here, I really need to get to the police station and get to work.”

  “Of course, I didn’t mean to hold you up as long as I have.” She got out of her chair and walked with him to the front door. “I hope to see you for dinner, but I’ll understand if you can’t make it. I know you have important work to do so I won’t delay you any longer.”