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      First Night

      Debra Webb

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Dedication

      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

       Copyright

      DEBRA WEBB was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually, she met and married the man of her dreams, and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mysteries and movies for inspiration. In 1998, her dream of writing for Mills & Boon came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at PO Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345, USA, or visit her website at www.debrawebb.com to find out exciting news about her next book.

      This story is dedicated to all the loyal fans who couldn’t wait to read the next story featuring Merrilee Walters.

       Chapter One

       Friday, Dec. 23, 5:45 p.m.

      Merrilee Walters shut down her computer and sighed. Her first report as an assistant field investigator was complete. She smiled. She was a full-fledged Colby Agency investigator now.

      Merri slid back her chair and stood. She’d proven to Ian Michaels, the second-in-command here at the Colby Agency, that she could pull her weight despite her disability. Ian was still dubious, hence the continued insistence that for a time Merri would be teamed with another investigator on a case. Getting past that final test would be a breeze.

      Pulling on her coat, she considered the seven years that had passed since she’d lost her ability to hear. Life had been tough at first. Being a grown woman and an elementary schoolteacher at the time, she’d had to work particularly hard to regain her bearings. She’d taken a year off from work to adjust to this new soundless world of hers and during that time she’d realized that returning to the world of teaching wasn’t possible.

      Not for her, anyway.

      She’d also realized during that time that she had not lived up to her expectations—expectations she hadn’t even realized she’d had at the time.

      Merri grabbed her purse and shook her head as she recalled those confusing months. She’d lacked the confidence necessary to have a classroom full of elementary students depending upon her when she couldn’t hear a single word or sound. Anything could have happened when she had her back turned, to write on the blackboard for instance. But there had been more missing.

      Her family had been worried. Her country singer fiancé had broken off their engagement.

      Life had pretty much sucked.

      Until she’d realized, sort of by trial and error, her true calling. Another smile tugged at her lips. She’d come a long way since then.

      Merri turned off the light and stepped out of her office. A stint with Nashville’s Metro Police Department had provided the challenge she’d needed and the opportunity to prove she was still a viable member of society. Not to mention she’d had a hell of an adventure.

      Four years as a detective back in Nashville had been good, but she’d needed a change. She’d needed to do something more, something much more personal. Victoria Colby-Camp had been willing to take her on and Merri had made a move north, leaving behind the two men who’d turned her world upside down—Detective Steven Barlow and former Mob wiseguy Mason Conrad.

      Talk about covering both ends of the spectrum.

      Merri had needed a change, professionally and personally. No offense to her colleagues, and certainly not to her family.

      She paused in the lobby to peer out the window at the falling snow. She liked Chicago. It was a lot colder than in Nashville and her folks were seriously missing her, but the change had been a good one. One she’d needed on every level.

      The rest of the agency staff had gone home for the day. There were last-minute Christmas shopping and holiday parties. But Merri had already done her shopping. Presents to her family had gone into the mail last week. She didn’t know enough folks to be invited to any parties, except for the Colby Agency New Year’s party. But that was okay. Merri was still getting her Yankee legs under her. And she felt comfortable with being all by herself on Christmas.

      If she had gone home, her family would have spent the entire holiday explaining how she needed to come back home to them. One or more of her former colleagues would have dropped by to say how sorely she was missed.

      Maybe next year. Right now, she needed distance…distance and time.

      She pressed the call button for the elevator and considered what she should have for dinner on the way home. It was actually cheaper for one to eat out and the restaurant crowd prevented her from eating alone, which was something she, as much as she hated to admit it, missed about being back home. Her close-knit family liked nothing better than to get together over a big meal—no special occasion needed.

      The elevator light for her floor blinked and the doors prepared to glide open.

      “Finally.” One would think that with most everyone in the building gone for the day that the elevators would be ready instantly. Never happened. The elegant cars had one speed—slow.

      The doors slid apart and Merri prepared to move forward.

      A blur of movement had her stumbling back several steps.

      “You

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