LITMIR.BIZ

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she might harbor. “Well,” she said with a bright smile that seemed a bit forced. “It’s almost midnight. Maybe I should take my own advice and mingle before I turn into a pumpkin.”

      Elizabeth didn’t think that would happen. She knew very little of Becca’s life before she came to Moriah’s Landing, but it was obvious the woman knew how to handle herself in social situations. Elizabeth watched with no small amount of envy as her new friend drifted through the crowd with the utmost confidence. She seemed perfectly comfortable in her surroundings even though she knew hardly anyone at the ball.

      Elizabeth, on the other hand, had grown up in Moriah’s Landing and while her parents weren’t as wealthy as the Pierces, her life had been one of privilege. She should be the one at ease in such a setting, but she wasn’t. She longed to be home, snuggled in bed with one of her favorite books, the way she spent most of her evenings. If she wasn’t careful, she could easily become a recluse.

      Like David Bryson.

      THE CLOCK in the foyer struck midnight just as Elizabeth slipped out of the ballroom. She’d meant to seek refuge inside the library across the hall, but instead, she made her way to the rear of the house where a glass-domed solarium would give her a breathtaking view of the storm.

      She opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dark and fragrant with exotic blossoms, and very cold. Elizabeth didn’t turn on the light, but used the occasional flashes of lightning to make her way toward the back of the solarium, where long rows of French doors opened onto a flagstone patio and garden.

      She rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms, wishing for her velvet cloak. Surely such a chill couldn’t be good for the tropical varieties of plants and ferns which grew jungle-thick beneath the glass dome.

      As she neared the back of the solarium, Elizabeth realized why the temperature had plunged inside the room. One of the French doors had blown wide, and gusts of icy wind and rain whipped through the opening.

      She rushed over to fasten the door, but it resisted her tug. As she struggled with the latch, something moved outside beyond the patio. A flash of color, nothing more. A brief flare of yellow that melted into blackness.

      Then the wind slammed the door to with such force that Elizabeth had to jump back to keep her hand from being smashed. She slipped on the wet floor and lost her balance, crashing backward into a plant table. Expensive glazed pots shattered against flagstones.

      She struggled to sit up, but the hoops beneath her voluminous skirts kept her off balance.

      “Damn,” she muttered, wincing as a shard from one of the shattered pots bit into her palm. She lifted her hand to see if the cut was bleeding, but for some reason, her gaze was drawn skyward. Among the trailing leaves of some lush vine, something swayed from the rafters.

      Elizabeth propped herself on her elbows, staring upward. What was that—

      In a flare of lightning, she saw a pale face staring down at her.

      A ghost! her terrified mind first thought, and her heart began to hammer painfully against her rib cage.

      But then, an instant later, she saw the rope.

      Chapter Three

      “Who found the body?”

      The curt question broke into Elizabeth’s chaotic thoughts as she stood outside the solarium with the Pierces. She looked up, expecting to see one of the uniformed officers who’d arrived on the scene a few minutes after William Pierce had called the police, or perhaps even the police chief himself. Instead, her gaze collided with Cullen Ryan’s.

      And her heart almost stopped.

      She hadn’t seen him this close since he’d moved back to Moriah’s Landing several months ago. Elizabeth thought she’d conquered her old feelings for him once and for all, but then he’d gone and done the unexpected. The unthinkable. He’d gone and made himself respectable.

      And now she was all confused again. She stared up at him helplessly.

      His short, dark hair glistened with raindrops, and his eyes—gray, like a winter sky—were cool and assessing. He wasn’t overly tall, probably around six feet, but he carried himself in that edgy, confident manner which had always made him seem taller. He was dressed darkly in a heavy long coat over a black V-neck sweater and black jeans, and Elizabeth couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was so good-looking!

      And a young woman was so dead.

      Elizabeth would do well to remember why Cullen was there. She tried to convince herself that her reaction to him was due to her lingering shock, not just in finding the body but in discovering the victim’s identity. And it had been a shock.

      Once she’d turned on the light in the solarium, she’d recognized almost at once the pale face, the dark, flowing hair. The delicate features that remained winsome even in death.

      And with recognition had come the shakes. Elizabeth had started to tremble violently, and she hadn’t been able to stop. Someone had fetched her velvet cloak earlier, and she clutched it now like a lifeline. She opened her mouth to answer Cullen, but her teeth were chattering so badly she couldn’t speak.

      William came to her rescue. “Elizabeth found the poor girl. It’s been quite traumatic for all of us, as you can imagine.”

      When Elizabeth had first informed William and Drew of her grisly discovery, they’d tried to leave the ballroom discreetly, so as not to alarm or panic their guests. Luckily, Mayor Thane had already departed the ball. Otherwise he would have undoubtedly insinuated himself into the situation in such a way as to garner as much press for himself as possible—and conversely, as much unfavourable publicity for his potential rival as he could generate. Bad enough that Zachary, Drew’s younger brother, noting the grim expression on his father’s face, had followed them to the solarium and a few minutes later, Geoffrey Pierce, William’s brother, had shown up as well. Now that the police were on the scene, word would spread soon enough among the guests, if it hadn’t already.

      William stepped forward now and offered his hand to Cullen. “I’m William Pierce, by the way.”

      “Yes, I know who you are,” Cullen said without expression as he shook hands with the man. “I’m Detective Ryan.”

      William glanced over Cullen’s shoulder. “Where’s Chief Redfern? Shouldn’t he be here?”

      “He’s out of town, but he’s been notified. The roads in and out of Moriah’s Landing are a mess from the storm. It may be hours before he can make it through.”

      William frowned. “Shouldn’t we wait for him?”

      “I’m afraid we can’t wait. Deterioration of the body could break down any DNA evidence that might be present. We’ll need to collect samples as soon as Dr. Vogel arrives,” Cullen said, referring to the medical examiner.

      “What about the state police?”

      “This is our jurisdiction.”

      “I see.” William still didn’t look convinced. “That all sounds well and good, young man, but you haven’t been with the police department all that long, have you? Are you sure you have the experience for this sort of investigation?”

      Annoyance flitted across Cullen’s brow. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Pierce, but I assure you I’m a trained investigator.”

      “Yes, well, I’m sorry to be so blunt, but you seem a little young to me to be a detective.”

      He was twenty-four, Elizabeth thought, and age was relative. She knew that better than anyone.

      If Cullen had remained with the Boston Police Department, chances were he probably wouldn’t have made detective for another few years. But in Moriah’s Landing, any big-city police-force experience automatically propelled an officer to the head of the pack. Most of the other law-enforcement personnel, Chief Redfern included, had only spotty experience and the minimum

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