LITMIR.BIZ

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      This book is dedicated to my two “moms,” Barbara Brackett, who gave birth to me, and Elsie Thomason, my mother-in-law. Voracious readers, both ladies read every one of my books and always offer encouraging words. Thanks, Moms.

      And a special thank-you to my friend Nan Carter, whose expertise in tracking down the bad guys helped me realistically portray the illegal activity mentioned in this book. Thanks, Nan, for ALL you do.

      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

      EPILOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      “MOMMY, YOU’RE COMING to the school zone.”

      Claire Betancourt glanced over at her nine-year-old daughter and automatically raised her foot off the accelerator. The Lexus sedan slowed to fifteen miles per hour before proceeding under the blinking yellow light. “Thank you, Jane, for your infallible back-seat driving,” Claire said.

      “You were speeding, weren’t you, Mommy?”

      “No.” At the girl’s pointed stare, Claire relented. “Maybe a little. But we’re late.” Still, it wouldn’t look right if the mayor was caught doing a reckless twenty miles per hour through Heron Point’s only school zone. Especially when she had an elementary student in the passenger seat.

      Jane sat forward, straining against her seat belt. “Look, Mommy, isn’t that Mrs. Hutchinson?”

      Claire groaned. “Oh, no. Not again.” This was the second time in two weeks that the regular crossing guard hadn’t shown up for duty. And the second time Heron Point’s most conscientious citizen and self-proclaimed mother-of-the-year had taken it upon herself to guide the town’s children safely across the street to the school building. Claire slowed to a crawl, lowered her window and spoke to the woman whose short arms were flailing about in an exaggerated attempt to direct Heron Point’s youngest citizens. “Hi, Missy,” Claire said. “I guess Bella didn’t show this morning?”

      “You guessed right,” Missy answered. “Really, Claire, you must do something about that woman. We can’t have our children subjected to the dangers of a busy school crossing without competent adult supervision. And I can’t be expected to step up every time Bella Martingale is too hungover…” She stopped speaking when she realized Jane was listening to every word.

      Busy school crossing? Claire checked her rearview mirror. There were two cars behind her, and only one had passed going the opposite direction in the last minute. And this was Heron Point’s rush hour. But Missy was right. Even if there were only seventy-six children enrolled in the elementary school, it was the community’s responsibility to provide them with adequate crosswalk protection.

      “I’ll speak to Bella,” Claire promised.

      “Are you going to fire her?” Missy asked.

      Claire flinched. She really liked Bella. “Yes. But in the meantime, I’ll ask Aunt Pet to fill in at the crosswalk this afternoon, and I’ll be here tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll be able to make permanent arrangements over the weekend.”

      “What about now? I have to open my gallery in exactly ten minutes.”

      “You go on,” Claire said. “I’ll take over until eight o’clock.” She pulled to the curb, got out and waited for Jane to pick up her sweater and lunch box from the floor of the front seat. “Have a nice day, sweetheart. I won’t pick you up. Aunt Pet will be here this afternoon, so you can ride home with her.”

      Jane looked up at her with the doe-brown eyes that were so like her father’s, like all the Betancourt men’s. Beautiful, heart-stopping, warm, Latin eyes. “Is Mrs. Martingale drunk again?” she asked.

      “No, I’m sure she isn’t,” Claire answered. Bella had sworn to Claire just yesterday that she hadn’t had a drink in over a month, since school had started the fall term. But she might very well be high on something. Claire had insisted the woman mow the trio of marijuana plants blatantly growing under a bright green awning in her backyard. But Claire had never gone back to see that the job had been completed. And now she had to admit that Bella had used up all her chances for leniency.

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