Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Shadowed Witness by Angela Carlisle

SHADOWED WITNESS

by Angela Carlisle


July 7 – August 1, 2025

Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SHADOWED WITNESS (The Secrets of Kincaid Book #2) by Angela Carlisle on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

Below you will find a book description, my book review, and excerpt from the book, and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!

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Book Description

A haunting attack. A killer in the shadows. A protective love.

Murder–that’s what photographer Allye Jessup knows she witnessed as she departed her studio one evening. Waking with bruises on her neck and a foggy memory, she believes she survived an attack, but everyone seems to think she simply sustained a head injury from falling down the stairs outside her studio. Plagued by an undiagnosed health condition, she is torn between the haunting reality of what she may have seen and the possibility that her mind is playing tricks on her.

Without proof the other victim ever existed, Detective Eric Thornton can hardly declare the area a murder scene. Still, he adds Allye’s report to his already full caseload. But when new evidence surfaces to support her claims, Eric must stay one step ahead of a ruthless killer and uncover the truth before the suspect closes in on Allye again.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/220543462-shadowed-witness?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=7Y252PJeOz&rank=1

Shadowed Witness

Genre:  Romantic Suspense
Published by:  Bethany House Publishers
Publication Date:  July 1, 2025
Number of Pages:  336
ISBN:  9780764242519 (ISBN10: 0764242512)
Series:  The Secrets of Kincaid, Book 2  (Amazon | Goodreads)

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My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

SHADOWED WITNESS (The Secrets of Kincaid Book #2) by Angela Carlisle is a fast-paced Christian romantic suspense featuring a female protagonist who does not know if she can believe what she remembers about a murder she witnessed, or did she? This is the second book in the Secrets of Kincaid series, and it can easily be read as a standalone book.

Photographer Allye Jessup has always been a little clumsy, but lately she has had mysterious symptoms that are severely affecting her daily life. As she waits for further testing, she is leaving her office one night and believes she hears something behind her building. She gets off a scream before she is choked into unconsciousness, but when she wakes up, the mayor who finds her believes she just fell down her office stairs and knocked herself out. When she is attacked in her home, the story is so strange that even her friend, one of the town’s detectives, is having trouble believing her.

Detective Eric Thornton wants to believe Allye, but there is no proof at either scene and he is consumed with other cases. When a body surfaces in a shallow grave in the park, it appears to have evidence that proves Allye’s story. Could Allye have seen more than she knows and really be in danger?

This is a page turner full of suspense and unknowns. Allye is dealing with mysterious health issues and does not want her family to worry, so she is bearing the burden alone until she is diagnosed, but it also puts her in even more danger. Eric has his own problems not only with his workload, but with family trauma while growing up. Even with all their personal problems, they feel an attraction and the threats to Allye make Eric more protective. This is a Christian romantic suspense and with Allye’s health issues there are no sex scenes. The suspense is constant and kept me turning the pages. I only guessed part of the crime plot conclusion and the solution to Allye’s health problems was a surprise until it was suggested as a cause.

I recommend this second Christian romantic suspense in this series and look forward to more.

***

Excerpt

LIGHTS? CHECK. 

Camera? Check.

Three bags and a purse? Check.

Allye Jessup looped all four sets of straps over her left shoulder and stepped out of her small second- story photography studio into a warm autumn evening. The sun had just set, but it was still light enough that the dusk- to- dawn light above the landing hadn’t kicked on yet. That wouldn’t last long, especially with the fog already beginning to move in. 

Tightly gripping the rail, she started down the metal stairs. She didn’t need another fall, and the way her equilibrium had been off lately, she wasn’t taking any chances. When she was nearly at the bottom, a dull thud sounded from behind the building. Someone stifled a cry. Another thud. 

What in the world? Allye hurried down the last few stairs and toward the noise. She slowed before she reached the corner. Fished in her pocket for her phone. She groaned silently. Not there. No telling which bag she’d stuffed it into. Or if she’d left it in her studio. Wouldn’t be the first time. 

As she edged toward the back of the building, she heard a louder ka- thump as if something heavy had fallen. The sounds changed to a muted, almost rhythmic thumping. She reached the corner and peered around. 

Two men. One standing back in the shadows, watching. The second man delivered another savage kick to something— no, someone— unmoving on the ground. The blow left the fallen man’s head tilted at an unnatural angle. Allye sucked in a breath. 

The attacker swung around, chest heaving. Looked her straight in the eyes. 

No. Allye pushed off the building and ran, bags flopping against her back and side. Pursuing footfalls pounded the gravel behind her. She didn’t dare look back. She had to get out into the open. Had to— 

A heavy weight plowed into her back. She screamed. Tried to catch herself as she went down in a tangle of bags. Pain shot through her knees and wrists, but she pushed herself up. Turned to fight. 

Her attacker shoved her against the side of the building. The back of her head bounced against the wall. 

She screamed again. A rough hand closed around her throat, cutting off her cry and pinning her against the rough brick. Her hands flew to his, but his grip was like steel. Too tight for another scream. Just loose enough to allow her the slightest bit of oxygen. 

“What do we have here?” He studied her, ignoring her strug- gles. He touched her hair, letting a curl wind around his finger, then slide off. His lips curved in a predatory grin. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?” 

A new wave of fear skittered up her spine. She kicked, and the tip of her shoe connected solidly with his shin. He slapped her, then shifted his hold on her throat, lifting so her toes barely touched the ground. Rage glittered in his eyes. 

And he started to squeeze. 

She clawed at his fingers, his arm. He snatched both her hands in his free one with a grip that threatened to snap her wrists. Her vision darkened, punctuated by pinpricks of light. She tried to kick again, but he was too close and her strength was fading. 

Someone shouted— the words garbled by the rushing in her ears. Hope flared. 

Her attacker looked to the side, but the force of his grip didn’t diminish. 

Lungs feeling ready to burst, she jerked one last time against his hold. He didn’t budge. The glimmer of hope faded. 

Allye succumbed to the darkness. 

“ALLYE. ALLYE!” A voice penetrated the smothering black hole of unconsciousness. Someone gripped her shoulders and gently shook her. “Are you okay?” 

Allye groaned, and her throat rebelled against the sound. Pain. The attack. Panic flooded in. 

She clawed her way to the light, ready to fight for her life. But rather than cooperating with her brain, her eyelids fluttered, and her body declined to move at all. 

“Allye?” The voice came again, and this time she recognized it. Mayor Jennings. Not the attacker. 

The edge of her panic eased. She concentrated her efforts on opening her eyes, and this time, they obeyed. Mayor Jennings leaned over her, his face a picture of concern. 

“Oh, thank God, you’re awake! Are you in pain?” “Where . . . is he?” She forced the words out, her throat pro- testing every word. 

Confusion etched new lines onto the mayor’s forehead. “Who?” “That man.” Allye planted her elbows in the gravel and gathered her strength to rise. Her first attempt was pitiful, and she let her head fall back against the ground. Ouch. She waited a moment and tried again. She was partially successful, and Mayor Jennings assisted her into a full sitting position. She bit back another groan and straightened her glasses as she focused on regulating her breathing. Everything hurt. Especially her throat. She raised a shaky hand to her neck. “The man . . . choking me.” She could hear the hoarseness in her voice, and every syllable scraped pain- fully across her damaged windpipe. 

Mayor Jennings sat back on his heels. “There wasn’t anyone else out here.” 

“A man came after me. Choked me because I saw—” The man on the ground. Could he still be alive? 

She pushed to her feet. Dizziness washed over her, and her purse swung against her body. She clutched at the staircase rail- ing. Instantly, she felt the mayor’s strong hand cupping her elbow. 

“Easy, Allye. You had a hard fall.” She shook her head, making the dizziness worse. She squeezed her eyes shut for a count of ten. “I didn’t fall.” 

“You didn’t?” His gaze dropped to her knees, and she glanced down. Despite the harsh shadows cast by the light above the landing, she could make out the shredded mess of her leggings. She blinked and thought back. 

“Well, I did fall when he was chasing me,” she corrected. “When who was chasing you?” “The man.” And she needed to see if the other person being beaten had survived— though she wasn’t sure how he could have. She shook off the mayor’s hold and stumbled toward the back of the building. He followed, hovering as if he expected her to collapse at any second. 

“There was a man— men— back here,” she explained. “One of them was beating another, and the one on the ground wasn’t moving. I’m not sure he was even still alive.” She rounded the corner and stopped short, nearly losing her balance. Mayor Jennings again  reached out to steady her. No one was here now. No attacker. No victim. 

She spun in a slow circle, even that motion increasing her dizziness. Had she confused the buildings? She crossed the space between structures and peered into the dimly lit area behind the newspaper office. Only an industrial- size dumpster and empty parking spaces met her gaze. That didn’t match. Again she turned. What she’d seen had definitely been behind her building. 

“I need to call 911. Maybe they’ll be able to find trace evidence.” “Allye, you need to go home and rest.” The mayor’s voice was gentle, fatherly. “Or get a doctor to check you out. You fell down the steps.” 

“I don’t need a doctor, and I didn’t fall—” “I heard your scream from my office.” He took her arm and led her back the way they’d come. “I came outside immediately and found you at the bottom of the stairs. No one else was around.” “But—” They passed by the stairs, and her other bags lay as if she’d dropped them there. She slowed. “I need to get those.” “Let me get you to my car, then I’ll collect them for you.” “My car’s parked out front. I can drive.” “No.” His tone brooked no debate. “You hit your head and passed out. I am not letting you on the road. It wouldn’t be safe. Besides”— he winked at her—“your mother would never forgive me if something happened to you.” 

She tried to muster a smile, but the attempt fell flat. Mayor Jennings and her mom had been dating for the past three months, and Allye still hadn’t quite gotten used to it. She had nothing against the man, who’d been Kincaid’s mayor for well over a de- cade and a member of their church for much longer, or against her mom for exploring the possibility of finding love again. It was just new territory. 

When they’d lost Allye’s dad during what would have been his last active- duty tour in Afghanistan eighteen years ago, Julie Jessup had stepped into life as a single mom. In all these years, she’d shown little interest in dating— even after she abruptly entered the empty- nest stage when Allye’s younger brother, Derryck, was killed in a car accident at fifteen. No, she’d just thrown herself more fully into her thriving realty career and spent her free time in volunteer work. Or hovering over her remaining two children as much as they let her. 

As they reached the sidewalk, the mayor decisively steered them toward the parking lot on the other side of city hall— and away from her Jetta. Allye glanced over her shoulder. She didn’t want to leave her car here and be stranded at home, but . . . the mayor was probably right about her driving. Regardless of how it came about, she had lost consciousness, and her brain still felt fuzzy. And truth be told, she didn’t have the energy to argue any further. She bit back a sigh and allowed him to lead her to his shiny black Mercedes. He insisted on helping her inside before heading back for her bags. 

After hitting the locks, she slumped in the leather passenger seat and watched until he disappeared around the corner of the newspaper office. Could he be right? She replayed the moments before everything went dark. Though her memories weren’t as crisp as normal— or what had been normal until the last couple of months— they were solid. Real. 

She frowned. No matter what the mayor thought, she hadn’t fallen down the steps. She’d seen someone getting attacked, and the attacker had chased her— choked her. 

So where had everyone gone? And why was she still alive? None of it made any sense. But she knew what she’d seen. Felt. There was another victim out there, and the more she thought about it, the less she believed he’d be found alive. And if that was the case . . . she’d witnessed a murder tonight. 

Her stomach flipped as the realization sank in. She needed to call the police, and the sooner the better. She dug in her purse for her phone but again failed to find it. She’d have to search her other bags once Mayor Jennings returned. Or just ask to borrow his phone. 

When he rejoined her a moment later, she cleared her throat and grimaced at the pain. “I can’t leave until I call the police. I’m almost positive that was a murder in progress, and at the very least, the man attempted to kill me.” She saw the protest on Mayor Jennings’s face, but before he could voice it, she plowed ahead. “I know you think I just fell, but what will it hurt to have them look?” He sighed and rubbed the skin between his eyes. “How about this? I’ll call the police and have them take a look around. But first let me take care of you. The last thing you need is to be stuck out here while we wait for an available officer to arrive and investigate.” 

“But they’ll need my statement.” “If they find anything, yes. And they can follow up with you with any questions they have.” 

A wave of fatigue washed over her, making it hard to think. Would an extra ten or twenty minutes make a difference at this point? The men were gone, and she doubted they’d return any- time soon. And though she had no intention of admitting it, she needed to lie down. Holding herself upright was taking nearly all the energy she had left. 

“Okay.” Satisfied with her one- word acquiescence, the mayor started the engine. “Am I taking you home or to the ER?” 

“Home.” The ER wouldn’t do anything for bruises that she couldn’t do just as well herself, and she had enough medical bills and doctor appointments as it was. She wasn’t going to add one she didn’t need. 

They pulled onto the road, and the mayor aimed his car toward her house. 

“Now, tell me what you think you saw, so I can give the police an accurate description.” 

Allye resisted the urge to correct his use of the word think. “I was coming down from my studio and heard what sounded like someone getting hit behind the building. I went to the corner and looked around and saw three men. One was on the ground like he’d fallen, and another was kicking him.” She swallowed. “I think I made a noise because the attacker looked up and saw me. I tried to run, but . . .” 

The mayor stopped at a light and turned to look at her. “And?” “He pushed me down.” She blinked. “Or I fell. I don’t remem- ber now. But when I got up, he grabbed me. Held me against the wall and started choking me. I blacked out. Then you were there.” The light changed, and the mayor returned his attention to the road. “You said you think you saw the attack behind the building. Right or left from the alley?” “Right. And I did see it.” He didn’t respond. Tired as she was, Allye couldn’t let the silence ride for long. “How did you find me?” 

“I heard you scream and came looking.” “No, I mean how was I positioned? What did you see?” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “When I came around the corner, I saw you face down at the base of the stairs. I turned you over and checked your pulse. Made sure you were breathing.” He wiped his forehead. “You scared me, Allye.” 

His concern was comforting, but his statement didn’t make sense. She’d been a couple of yards past the steps when the at- tacker caught up to her. He’d pinned her against the wall, choked her, and . . . what? She had no idea what had happened afterward, but much time couldn’t have passed if the mayor had come look- ing for her when she screamed. 

She realized she was holding her throat again. It still hurt, and her voice was becoming weaker the more she talked. Wasn’t that proof of her being attacked? 

“I didn’t fall down the steps,” she said quietly. “I passed out because he choked me.”  

“Allye”—the mayor sounded weary—“there wasn’t anyone out there with you.” 

“Then why is my throat so sore?” Her raspy challenge was pitiful. 

“You screamed pretty loud.” He met her eyes for a brief sec- ond before returning his attention to the road. “And that purse you’re carrying looks heavy. When you fell, it could have yanked against your neck.” 

She glanced down. She normally carried the bag slung over one shoulder, but the mayor was right. It hung cross- body. She couldn’t remember doing that before leaving her studio. But with the brain fog she’d been fighting the last couple of months, that didn’t mean much. She sighed and lapsed into silence, this time for the rest of the short drive to her duplex. 

When they arrived, the mayor insisted on guiding her to the door. She reluctantly agreed, but only because she felt so awful. She unlocked her duplex and allowed him to set her bags just inside. 

“Are you feeling up to staying by yourself? I could call your mother for you.” 

“No.” Allye forced her aching body straighter. “I’m fine— just sore. Please don’t tell my mom about tonight. I don’t want her to worry.” 

The mayor frowned. “If your mom finds out you fell down the steps and I didn’t let her know—” 

“She won’t.” Allye forced a grin. “I’m sure not going to tell her, and if we were the only ones there . . .” 

His expression didn’t clear. “Okay.” He took her hand. “But only if you promise me you’ll go straight to bed and you’ll be careful on those steps from now on.” 

“Deal.” She hadn’t fallen down the stairs, but she would con- tinue to be careful when navigating them. 

He patted her hand, then released it and headed for his car. “And, Mayor Jennings?” He turned back to her. “Thank you.” He flashed the smile that had earned him nine- tenths of the vote last election cycle. “I’m always here when you need me.” 

Allye closed and locked her door, then limped to a nearby recliner. She hadn’t lied to him exactly. But between the sore- ness and a renewed weight of fatigue, she didn’t have it in her to make it to her bed tonight.

***

Author Bio

Angela Carlisle resides in the hills of northern Kentucky and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and The Christian PEN. Angela’s debut novel, Secondary Target, was a Parable Weekly top seller and was included in the Library Journal Stars So Far listing. Angela is an editor by day and prefers to spend her free time reading, baking, and drinking ridiculous quantities of hot tea.

Social Media Links

AngelaCarlisle.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub – @AngelaCarlisle
Instagram – @angelacarlislewriter
Facebook – @AngelaCarlisle.Writer

Purchase Links

Amazon – https://pictbooks.tours/bOSZ5v7y

BN – https://pictbooks.tours/U9Ovs1XN

BookShop.org – https://pictbooks.tours/NlxtFGDD

Goodreads – https://pictbooks.tours/uS0HNVUg

Baker Book House – https://pictbooks.tours/9JfB7L3e

Baker Publishing – https://pictbooks.tours/NcWEXh2G

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Secondary Target by Angela Carlisle

SECONDARY TARGET

by Angela Carlisle

May 6-17, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SECONDARY TARGET (The Secrets of Kincaid Book #1) by Angela Carlisle on this Partner In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

Below you will find a book description, my book review, and excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links, and a Kingsumo giveaway. Good luck on the giveaway and enjoy!

***

Book Description

THE SECRETS OF KINCAID

A ruthless murderer. A deadly secret. An unbreakable love.

After the brutal murder of her mother and brother twelve years ago, Corina Roberts built a new life in Kentucky. But when strange things begin to happen, she is thrust into a perilous game of life and death. With nowhere else to turn, her best hope of survival depends on her ex-boyfriend, army veteran Bryce Jessup.

Recently returned from service, Bryce has every intention of staying away from Corina, but when threats close in around her, he isn’t willing to leave her safety to chance. As their search for answers uncovers lethal secrets her detective father kept hidden, Bryce and Corina must untangle the mystery of the merciless killer intent on terrorizing and eliminating Corina’s family before it’s too late.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/201908010-secondary-target?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=bnS6LrVMVZ&rank=1

Secondary Target

Genre: Romantic Suspense
Published by: Bethany House Publishers
Publication Date: May 7, 2024
Number of Pages: 336
ISBN: 9780764242502 (ISBN10: 0764242504)
Series: The Secrets of Kincaid, Book 1

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Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

SECONDARY TARGET (The Secrets of Kincaid Book #1) by Angela Carlisle is an action filled gripping Christian romantic suspense set in small-town Kentucky where danger from one of the heroine’s P.I. father’s cold cases come back to threaten all those she loves. This is a well written start to a new series from a debut author.

Corina Roberts has built a new life with her father in a small Kentucky town. Strange things begin to happen that are increasingly threatening and she also discovers her father has been keeping secrets from her. With her father in the hospital, she turns to her Army veteran ex-boyfriend to assist her in discovering who is after her.

Bryce Jessup returned to his hometown hoping to stay out of his ex’s way, but when Corina is threatened, he is not willing to leave her unprotected. Corina and Bryce must untangle the mystery behind a ruthless killer from her father’s past before he eliminates everyone she loves, including her.

I really enjoyed these characters and the main suspense plot. Corina and Bryce both had communication issues after a tragic accident that ended their relationship, but they slowly resolve these problems even as they are dodging a killer. Corina is also dealing with her father keeping secrets from her, and her loss of faith after the two horrible tragedies in her life. While Corina and Bryce both have moments of prayer and discussions of faith, it did not disrupt the pace of the suspense plot. This is a Christian romantic suspense so there are no sex scenes in this second chance romance. I enjoyed both the well-developed characters and the well-paced romantic suspense plot.

I recommend this exciting Christian romantic suspense and I am looking forward to the next book in this series from this new author.

***

Excerpt

1

Security alarms shattered the autumn morning’s tranquility.

The mechanical shrieks pierced Corina Roberts’s consciousness, dissipating any lingering fog of sleep.

Not again.

She threw back the covers and rolled from the bed, revolver drawn from the nightstand before her feet touched the polished oak floor. She shoved the holster into her pocket but didn’t bother searching for her phone. Her dad’s security system was configured exactly like her own and would send a notification to the police within thirty seconds of being triggered if they didn’t shut it off. Help would be here soon enough. In the meantime, she’d be prepared to protect herself if necessary.

As she reached for the bedroom door, her German shepherd howled, creating a dissonant chorus with the wailing alarm. Shivers chased themselves up her spine. Her hand tightened around the revolver’s rose–wood–and–steel grip, and a fraction of her tension melted away. The .38 Special LadySmith fit her hand perfectly.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t need it.

She sucked in a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder. “Houston. Quiet.”

The howling broke off abruptly, but agitation continued to radiate from him. Before she had the door fully open, he burst through it, nearly knocking her off–balance in the process.

She slipped into the darkened hallway after him and caught sight of her father already standing at the front door, his own gun held in a ready position as he peered out the peephole. He would have checked the security monitor as soon as the alarms started. Whatever triggered them must be somewhere along the front of the house. The bright glow of motion–sensing lights beyond his position confirmed it.

“What is it?” She raised her voice to be heard over the alarm.

“I don’t know yet. Stay back.” He didn’t look her direction as he crept from the peephole to the edge of a nearby window and parted the blinds with his finger. Seconds passed. They were well past the requisite thirty now. “Turn the alarm off.”

Keeping to the perimeter of the entryway, she did as he asked. Sudden silence engulfed the home, but her eardrums still pulsed with the electronic rhythm of the previous few moments.

She glanced at her dad, and he signaled her to wait. Together they listened, but no sound carried through the door. Whoever had set off the alarm had probably been frightened away. Or were they merely biding their time?

Her dad bent down until his lips were close to her ear. “I’m going out the back to have a look around.”

She latched onto his arm as he started to turn away. “Wait for the police, Dad.”

“If anyone’s still out there, the police will scare them off.”

“Then let them get scared off.” Her voice rose on the last words, and he pressed a finger to her lips.

“Shh. I know what I’m doing. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He extracted himself from her grasp as he spoke.

Something akin to panic wrapped around her chest as he strode down the hallway. She had to stop him from doing something reckless. Something that could get him killed.

She followed him to the spare bedroom and found him unlocking a window. Even with the alarm off, he couldn’t use the back door without setting off the motion sensors. A window was his only option. But a window wouldn’t do much good if he needed to make a quick reentry.

“Don’t go out there, Dad.” Corina tried to still the slight tremble in her voice. She hated sounding weak, but more than that, she knew it would only feed her dad’s protective instincts.

“I need to, Corina.”

“Why? So you can play hero?” She refused to cringe at the implication of her words or take them back. Her dad didn’t play hero—-and they both knew it. But she never understood why he was always adamant about investigating threats on his own. Almost as if he didn’t trust the police to do their jobs.

He didn’t answer her. Just started easing the window upward. He wasn’t going to listen, so she said the first thing she could think of. “Fine. I’m going with you.”

Her wild shot hit its mark. Her dad stopped midmotion and turned back to face her. Even in the near darkness, she could see the steel in his gaze.

“No. You’re not. Stay here and keep Houston close.” Quiet finality rang in his words, but she lifted her chin in defiance, tamping the fear that threatened her control.

“I’m not a child, and if you’re going, so am I.”

“Corina, I know you’re not a child, but I don’t have time to argue with you. Stay. Here.” He fixed her with a look that had once made hardened criminals sweat.

She met it. Matched it. And waited.

The faint sound of a quickly approaching vehicle interrupted their glaring match and saved her further argument. The car stopped at their house, strobing lights announcing the police had arrived.

Her dad frowned and brushed past her to let them inside. He wasn’t happy, but he was safe. She’d stalled him long enough.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Corina leaned back against the wall as red and blue lights bounced around her. She slipped her revolver into her pocket holster, then clasped her arms across her chest to hide the trembling in her hands.

Buried memories surfaced, and she fought a wave of nausea. Not now. She clenched her fists and forced herself to focus on the present until the feeling subsided. She’d dwell on the past another day. Maybe.

Bryce Jessup’s hands stilled in the middle of his fifty–third rep. Police lights flashed outside his front window, and they weren’t just passing by. Not normal for sleepy Kincaid, Kentucky, especially at four in the morning. He lowered the barbell to its resting place and removed the headphones pumping upbeat music into his ears.

He tossed a towel around his neck before moving to peer outside. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of a cruiser parked across the street. Corina doesn’t live there anymore, he reminded himself. His sister had assured him of that.

Her father hadn’t moved, though.

Concern for the overly private man prompted him to step outside. He ignored the midforties temps and focused on the two officers from the local PD standing on the Robertses’ porch. With their backs to him, he couldn’t identify them. Truth was, he might not know them anyway. It had been several years since he’d spent more than a week or two in his hometown. Change in a small town might be stilted, but it was still inevitable.

Will Roberts stepped into view, leaving the door open behind him. Okay, so he was safe. Bryce held his breath, trying to hear the low voices, but he was too far away.

A flash of fur caught his eye as a familiar—-though now fully grown—-German shepherd pushed around Will to investigate the officers and the mess littered about the porch. A mess Bryce hadn’t noticed until now. He eyed the upturned trash can.

“Houston. Inside.” The command came from somewhere behind Will. The feminine voice was one Bryce knew all too well. His gaze settled on a shadow in the darkened doorway. His jaw tensed. So Corina was there after all. Why would Allye tell him she’d moved if she hadn’t?

When his mom had offered to rent him their old home upon his return from active duty, he’d put her off with excuses, not caring to voice the real reason behind his hesitation. Allye wasn’t fooled, though. At least she’d had the decency to wait until their mom was out of earshot before flatly informing him that Corina had moved. She hadn’t called him a coward, hadn’t even insinuated it. But he’d felt like one just the same as he took his mom up on her offer.

Now he just felt like a fool.

He truly intended to seek Corina out at some point—-try to make things right. But he had no intention of seeing her day after day in the neighborhood where they’d shared so many memories. That was asking too much.

Far too much. He cleared his throat, and Houston’s head shot up. Now you’ve done it, Jessup.

“Houston.” Corina’s call was slightly louder this time.

Houston glanced at the doorway. Back at Bryce. Back at the door-way. In an instant, he was off the porch and making a beeline for him. Bryce braced himself for the impact of paws against his chest. “Oof!” Houston had definitely grown since the last time he’d seen him.

He grunted and pushed the excited animal off him. “Down.” Without taking his eyes off the scene across the street, Bryce bent to ruffle the fur on the dog’s neck. “So you remember me, huh, boy?”

One of the officers turned, and he recognized Mike Broaddus, a senior member of their small department and one affectionately dubbed “Officer Mike” whether on or off duty. Although Mike was the type to keep a bag of candy in his patrol car just in case he had a chance to treat the neighborhood kids, he could also hold his own against any criminal likely to show up in this town.

As the man began walking toward him, Bryce straightened and pointed at the Robertses’ house. “Go home, Houston.” The dog sauntered off, taking his time but headed in the right direction.

“Well, if it isn’t Bryce Jessup. I’d heard you came back.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Bryce nodded, then gestured to the Robertses’ home. “Some excitement this morning?”

“Yeah.” Officer Mike scratched his head. “Something triggered his alarm system. You didn’t happen to see anything, did you?”

“Sorry, no. I was up but didn’t look outside until just now.”

“Figures. Eric’s taking a look around, but there’s no evidence anyone made it inside—-or even tried to, if you discount the alarms.” The man sighed. “I’d better get back over there.”

“You mind if I come with you?” Bryce could have kicked himself the instant the request popped out of his mouth.

Officer Mike quirked an eyebrow. “You and Corina back together?”

“No.” His lips firmed, and he was thankful for the darkness that hid the heat rising in his neck. Officer Mike and everyone else had been aware of their previous relationship. And why it ended.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to hit on a touchy subject.”

Bryce waved him off. “Not touchy. That ship sailed a long time ago.” Five years ago next month to be exact.

“Understood.” Officer Mike turned away. “I suppose it won’t hurt. Just don’t touch anything.”

“Thanks.” Bryce followed the officer across the street, still trying to figure out why he’d asked to come. He paused at the edge of the Robertses’ porch and glanced at the still–open door. No Corina. He wasn’t sure whether he was more relieved or disappointed. As much as he dreaded their inevitable meeting, he couldn’t help wondering how the last five years had treated her.

Will had his back to him and didn’t seem to notice his presence, but the other cop who’d arrived with Mike caught his eye and nodded. Eric Thornton. Of all the guys he’d attended high school with, Eric was the last one Bryce would have expected to hang around Kincaid this long. Maybe things had changed even less than he’d thought.

Bryce returned the nod, then allowed his gaze to travel the area. Might as well be useful while he was here. His eyes landed again on the upturned trash can. This was garbage day, so it had probably been full—-hence the mess. But he saw nothing that should have set off the alarm. Nothing unless . . .

On a hunch, he circled the outside perimeter of the porch, paying careful attention to a muddy patch near one corner. Yep. There they were. He motioned to the men. “Hey, I have some footprints over here.”

***

Author Bio

Angela Carlisle (AngelaCarlisle.com) resides in the hills of northern Kentucky and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and The Christian PEN. Angela is an editor by day and prefers to spend her free time reading, baking, and drinking ridiculous quantities of hot tea. Her unpublished works have won awards in ACFW’s Genesis and First Impressions contests and placed in the Daphne du Maurier contest. Her shorter fiction works, including the prize-winning flash-fiction piece “Mansion Murderer,” have appeared in Splickety and Spark magazines.

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Book Links: 

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