Appalachian Prey. Debbie Herbert

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СКАЧАТЬ with drug trafficking, ancient feuds and an isolation that led many to a life of crime, believing the laws didn’t apply in this neck of the woods.

      “I won’t deny any of that,” he said slowly. “J.D. had a long talk with me. Basically said that if I continued seeing you, he wouldn’t endorse me as his replacement.”

      “And your career means more to you than I do. Fine. But you could have talked to me instead of giving me the silent treatment.”

      “You’re right. And I regret that.”

      Harlan regretted a lot of things. He should never have listened to J.D. or anyone else. He should have defended Lilah. He should have never let her slip away.

      He was an ass.

      Harlan shook his head. No, he’d done the right thing. The people in this county needed him. No point in throwing his career away because of one magical week. But that one week together during her spring break from work and school had been an unbelievable whirlwind of passion and emotion. And then, he’d slipped out of her life without a single word, even after all the plans they’d made for the summer. He raised a hand to touch her, to cup her face in his palms, to tell her he was sorry.

      Lilah stepped back, lips curled in a bitter smile. “Don’t even think about it, Harlan Sampson. We’re done.”

      Abruptly, he dropped the hand by his side. He’d lost the right to touch Lilah ever again.

      “Message received.” He took a deep breath and straightened his spine. “But I still don’t like leaving you alone out here. Can’t you get a room in town until you’ve finished your business?”

      “No.”

      She turned and headed down the hallway, leaving him no choice but to follow. Lilah opened the front door wide and waved a hand in dismissal. “Goodbye, Harlan.”

      He nodded, but as he brushed past Lilah, he couldn’t resist placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for everything. And for your loss. Your dad might have been on the other side of the law, but he was a decent man. I liked him, and he didn’t deserve what happened. I’ll do everything I can to find who shot him.”

      The anger and hostility fled, and her lips trembled the slightest bit. “Thank you,” she whispered.

      “Is there anything I can do for you?”

      She shook her head.

      “If you think of something, you have my number.”

      Before she could object, he planted a light kiss on her cheek and stepped out onto the porch. The sun was sinking low in the green mountains, casting a coral and purple hue on the clouds. Damn, he hated leaving her with night approaching.

      “Wait. There is one thing you can do.”

      He swung around, eager to help. “Name it.”

      Lilah lingered in the doorway, rubbing her arm. “I—I found some money today while I was cleaning up the place. In light of what happened to Dad, well, it makes me nervous. It’s too late for me to go to the bank, but maybe you could keep it safe for me tonight? I’ll come pick it up in the morning and deposit it.”

      “No problem.”

      He returned to the inside of her cabin. How crafty of Chauncey to keep a hidden stash of dough. He hoped for Lilah’s sake that it was at least a thousand dollars or so. She could use the cash. Working as a teacher’s aide and going to college didn’t leave her much in the way of money.

      “I told Darla ’bout finding a wad of cash up under the mattress, and she wanted us to go on and split it, but I told her it didn’t sit right with me. That much money should be reported.”

      He gave an indulgent smile. “No one would be the wiser if you didn’t turn it in. There’s no need to worry. I agree with Darla, just keep the money.”

      “But it’s a lot of money. I’ll need to talk to the bank manager. Don’t they investigate if you deposit more than ten thousand dollars at a time?”

      The hell. “Excuse me? How much money are we talking about?”

      “About thirty thousand.”

      Thirty. Thousand. Dollars. Ill-gotten dollars, no doubt. The rumors must be true. Chauncey, and probably his partner-in-crime brother as well, had graduated from moonshine to marijuana—or even harder drugs.

      “Get it,” he said tightly. Small wonder the Tedder reputation stank.

      And she’d planned on sleeping on that load of cash tonight? Some folks ’round these parts would kill for thirty grand. Even if Lilah knew how to use that shotgun, she’d have been putting herself in jeopardy staying here overnight with that much money. If anyone else knew about it, she could have ended up with bullets riddling her body—the same fate as her father.

      She scampered away, seemingly eager to be rid of the cash. Hard to believe, but at some level, Lilah must still trust him. Damn, he would have to tell J.D. about this. No way he could just let her waltz into a bank and get flagged as a possible drug dealer.

      He sat on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair. “What the hell did you get mixed up in, Chauncey?” he muttered under his breath. He kicked back on the cushions and sighed.

      Sure was taking her a long time. Harlan drummed his fingers on the wooden arm of the old couch, waiting.

      And waiting.

      “Everything all right, Lilah?” he called out.

      She staggered back into the den, face pale and fiddling with the gold cross chain around her neck.

      He stood, dread prickling his scalp. “What’s wrong?”

      She drew an unsteady breath. “The money...it’s gone.”

       Chapter Two

      Gone.

      Harlan rubbed his temples and sat back down on the sofa. He pointed to the rocker, and Lilah settled across from him. How to tell her?

      “Was your dad in the habit of keeping large amounts of money around the cabin?” he finally asked.

      “No.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “At least, not that I’m aware of.”

      “Any idea how he might have come into this money?”

      Her lips pinched together. “No.”

      “Moonshining can be pretty profitable for a few folks.”

      The muscles in her jaw worked, and she lifted a hand and waved it in the air. “Not for us. Does this look like a mansion or something? If Dad made much money at it, he sure didn’t believe in spreading the wealth.”

      Harlan knew her financial struggle. She’d been working for six years as a teacher’s aide, paying for college tuition and books as she could on her salary.

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