The Mother. Beverly Barton

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      Somer Ellis enjoyed her part-time job as a salesclerk at…

      Chapter 27

      Tam had known Garth Hudson most of her life. She…

      Chapter 28

      “Is he gone?” Zoe asked as she walked up beside…

      Chapter 29

      Somer Ellis’s head hurt. Maybe she should get up and…

      Chapter 30

      The sketch artist had drawn a picture of the person…

      Chapter 31

      Jeremy had needed a fix last night. Had needed one…

      Chapter 32

      Hart pumped into the woman lying beneath him, his thrusts…

      Chapter 33

      Driving like the proverbial bat out of hell, J.D. arrived…

      Chapter 34

      Somer heard his footsteps.

      Chapter 35

      Within an hour after Porter Bryant’s arrest, the small, dilapidated…

      Chapter 36

      A week later the test results came back from the…

      Chapter 37

      What could have been an awkward moment after they made…

      Chapter 38

      Hart had been awake all night. Thinking. Praying. He needed…

      Chapter 39

      Garth unlocked the front door and walked into the living…

      Chapter 40

      Tam came and took Audrey home from the hospital that…

      Dear Reader

      Acknowledgments

      About the Author

      Other Books by Beverly Barton

       About the Publisher

      Prologue

      Thirty years ago

      The Humpty-Dumpty night-light cast a soft, honey-white glow over the nursery, from the 5' x 7' Mother Goose rug on the wooden floor to the fluffy clouds painted on the ceiling. A large Raggedy Andy doll, with a mop of red hair and a perpetual smile, sat atop a brightly decorated toy box in the corner. Billowy blue and white gingham curtains covered the double windows that overlooked the backyard, and a matching gingham quilt, neatly folded, lay at the foot of the baby bed in the center of the small room.

      Humming quietly, Regina Bennett sat in the white spindle rocking chair, her precious little Cody asleep in her arms. Even in sleep, he still clutched his favorite toy, a little yellow teddy bear. Earlier that evening, he had been terribly fussy, crying incessantly, the sound of his pitiful gulping sobs breaking her heart. But after she had given him his medication, he had gradually quieted and gone to sleep.

      But for how long? An hour? Two hours? The medication’s effects seemed to wear off more quickly with each passing day. Eventually, the medication wouldn’t ease his pain.

      She brushed aside his damp blond curls, leaned down, and kissed his warm forehead. Before the chemotherapy treatments, his hair had been thick and shiny, but the new growth was thin and dull. “You won’t suffer anymore, my precious darling. Mommy promises.”

      Rocking back and forth, she cuddled Cody protectively against her breast. Still humming “Hush Little Baby,” an old Southern lullaby, Regina slid her hand down to the side of the rocker and grasped the small pillow she had placed there earlier that evening.

      “Mommy loves her little boy. Mommy’s going to do what’s best for you.”

      Regina lifted the pillow off the floor.

      Rocking.

      Humming.

      Smiling sadly.

      Tears misting her eyes.

      Singing softly.

      “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry.”

      Regina laid the handmade pillow over her son’s nose and mouth. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes and cascaded down either side of her face. She pressed her hand in the center of the pillow and held it in place until she was certain Cody was at peace. She lifted the pillow, tossed it aside, and looked at her tiny two-year-old son.

      No more pain. No more suffering.

      Chapter 1

      J.D. Cass listened to his breakfast date’s end of the telephone conversation and knew it was bad news. In his profession, bad news was the norm, as it was in Holly’s, so he wasn’t surprised. When a guy was dating an assistant district attorney, even in an on-again/off-again relationship, he became accustomed to their dates being interrupted by business. Of course, it worked both ways. How many times had one of Holly’s meticulously planned romantic evenings ended abruptly when he’d gotten an urgent call?

      They hadn’t managed to get together for the past three weeks, and J.D. was way past horny. So, yeah, his invitation for them to share an early breakfast today was his selfish way of wooing her back into his bed, and the sooner the better. Since he and Holly were both early risers, a 6:30 A.M. breakfast date had seemed the perfect chance to see each other and the least likely time that their professional lives would intrude. So much for great ideas.

      “My God!” Holly Johnston’s big blue eyes widened and her full lips parted in a silent gasp. “Who found her? Hmm … When? Is the press already there?”

      Curious about the identity of the person who had been found and eager to hear the details, J.D. frowned when his own cell phone rang. He checked caller ID and grunted.

      He hit the On button. “Cass here. What’s up?”

      “They found Jill Scott.” His boss, Special Agent in Charge Phil Hayes, had a deep baritone voice made even rougher and throatier from a lifetime of smoking.

      “Alive?”

      “No.”

      “Where?”

      “How close are you to Lookout Valley?”

      “Why?” J.D. got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

      “Because we’re fixing to get dragged into this mess, so I want you to head on over to the crime scene pronto.”

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