Betrayed Birthright. Liz Shoaf

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      “Joanne Ferguson and Walter Fleming. They’re both nice people. She’s been here about four months and he joined a couple of weeks ago. He’s the best tenor I’ve ever worked with.”

      Noah almost smiled. Abby was such an innocent. “So, because he has a great voice, he can’t be a bad person?”

      Her lips puckered and he choked back a laugh. He hadn’t laughed much in a long time. Not since his wife died, and especially not after the threats against his son’s life in retaliation for Noah killing Anthony Vitale’s father, Big Jack. Both men had been involved in the attempt on the mayor’s life in New York, but they were only able to find evidence on the mafia father. Noah had his own reasons for living in Blessing.

      “That’s not what I said.” She popped out the words, then took a deep breath. “I apologize. Please, go on, but we have to hurry. I have students coming.”

      “Aren’t they in school?”

      “Yes. Normally I give lessons later in the afternoon, but we have a recital coming up and the principal allowed them to miss a few classes so we can get in some extra practice. There’s an advantage to living in a small town.”

      Abby’s enthusiasm was contagious and Noah’s spirits lifted. “I’ll hurry it along. We should delve into your background,” he said. “Your parents died when you were six years old?”

      “Yes. They were on vacation in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and both died in a car crash. The police deemed it an accident. Neither one had any siblings. My dad’s parents passed away when he was in his twenties, and Grammy is my only living relative.”

      “Where were your parents born and raised?”

      Exasperation filled her voice. “What does that have to do with the break-in?”

      “Humor me.”

      “Fine. They were born and grew up in Mocksville, North Carolina. It’s a small town located between Charlotte and Winston-Salem.”

      “Their names?” Her lips puckered again and Noah hid a smile. They’d only known each other a few hours and already he could read some of her expressions. The pucker equaled irritation.

      “Lee and Mary Beauchamp.”

      He dutifully wrote down their names. First, he’d do surface searches on Joanne Ferguson and Walter Fleming. If he had any trouble, he’d connect with a few of his old FBI buddies. As far as her parents were concerned, if they grew up and stayed in North Carolina, it shouldn’t be hard to find information. “Okay, this is enough to get me started. I’ll have Cooper bring my laptop when he comes to dust for prints so I can get to work on this.”

      When she didn’t respond, Noah glanced up. Her lips were pursed.

      “So you meant what you said, you’re staying until the glass pane is repaired? You don’t have to do that. I’ll be perfectly fine here with Bates, and as I said, I am proficient with a gun in a worst-case scenario. Surely whoever broke in won’t return in broad daylight.”

      “Ms. Mayfield, I won’t leave until I’m convinced you’re safe.” His tone left no room for argument.

      She gave him a mischievous grin. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Listening to beginner music students is not for the faint of heart.”

      If she was trying to get rid of him, it wasn’t working. “I’ll take my chances.”

      A car horn blared outside and Noah jumped to his feet, one hand automatically reaching for the gun in his side holster.

      “Settle down, cowboy, that’s probably Trevor, here for his piano lesson.” He glared at her, but her eyes twinkled as she moved toward the foyer.

      He bolted in front of her and reached the door first. Her brows rose in question and he cleared his throat, feeling like a rookie. He didn’t like the sentiment. “I’ll go first and make sure the front yard is clear.”

      She chuckled and he opened the door and they stepped out. A white SUV sat idling at the curb. Noah recognized Mrs. Johnson’s vehicle. Her son, Trevor—with whom Noah was well acquainted—threw open the passenger door and shuffled up the sidewalk with hunched shoulders. His eyes rounded when he spotted Noah standing beside Abby.

      Stopping on the bottom step, his head whipped back and forth between the adults.

      “You in trouble with the law, Ms. Mayfield?” he asked, his voice filled with something akin to admiration.

      Amused, Noah waited to see how Abby would respond. She patted her hair down and released a nervous laugh. “Trevor, you know better than that. Sheriff Galloway just stopped by to check on me.”

      Trevor moved up the steps, patted her arm and gave Noah a sly grin. “It’s okay, Ms. Mayfield, I won’t tell anybody the sheriff was at your house first thing in the morning. That is, if you can find it in your heart to let me skip piano lessons today.”

      Abby’s mouth fell open, then snapped shut. “Trevor Johnson, I can’t believe you just tried to blackmail me. Sheriff Galloway has a very good reason for being here, and it’s none of your business.” She pointed a finger at the front door. “Now, march right into the living room and prepare for your lesson.”

      Trevor’s shoulders slumped as he slowly trudged into the house.

      Abby’s cheeks were pink with frustration and Noah’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. “The kid’s a terror. A few weeks ago I had him doing community service—picking up trash—for a minor infraction.”

      She waved a hand through the air and talked fast. “I don’t want to know what that boy’s been up to. I better get inside before he destroys my house.”

      Noah laughed out loud and it felt amazing. He gave her a small salute. “I’m sure you can handle it.”

      The woman disappeared into the house, and Noah scanned the front yard while pulling his smartphone out of his pocket. He typed a text instructing Cooper to bring his laptop to Ms. Mayfield’s house and added a note to swing by his house and pick him up a change of clothes, but then he changed his mind and cleared the text. Instead, he told Cooper to come to Ms. Mayfield’s and plan to stay for an hour or so. He’d go home, take a shower, make sure things were well on the home front and pick up his laptop. Cooper texted back and said he was on his way.

      Noah slid his phone back into his pocket and checked the surrounding area again. He wouldn’t have insisted on staying close to Ms. Mayfield if the break-in had been a normal grab and run. His intuition—one that had served him well during his tenure at the FBI—was screaming that trouble had followed her from North Carolina and the situation was more complicated than either of them imagined.

      Hearing mangled piano notes filter out the front door, he opted to stay outside and sat down on the porch swing to await the arrival of his deputy. He pulled his phone out again. He’d check in with his grandfather, Houston, and make sure he was available to take care of Dylan in case Noah found himself tied up longer than expected.

      For the first time in a long while, he was excited about work. Moving to Blessing had been the right thing to do, but truth be told, he missed being in the FBI. The big cases. The camaraderie between agents. He missed СКАЧАТЬ