Forgotten Legacy Read online

  PRAISE FOR THE MONTGOMERY JUSTICE NOVELS

  “The Montgomery Justice series satisfies on all levels, with plots that dovetail into one another and characters that aren’t always what they seem.”

  —RT Book Reviews on Behind the Lies

  “Robin Perini is synonymous with stellar romantic suspense.”

  —USA Today’s Happy Ever After blog on Behind the Lies

  “Perini refreshes romantic suspense.”

  —Publishers Weekly on In Her Sights

  “This riveting book will keep readers on the edge of their seats and surprise them at the end. The tightly woven plot, quick pace, and complex characters make for a remarkable read.”

  —RT Book Reviews on In Her Sights

  “Robin Perini will keep you perched on the edge of your seat. Danger, excitement, and romance . . . everything a reader craves!”

  —Brenda Novak, New York Times bestselling author, on In Her Sights

  “Robin Perini delivers the goods—Game of Fear is an intelligent, fast-paced romantic thriller that kept my heart racing and the pages flying.”

  —Karen Rose, New York Times bestselling author

  “Robin Perini crafts the perfect blend of hot romance and chilling suspense that leaves you breathless!”

  —Allison Brennan, New York Times bestselling author, on Game of Fear

  “The world of computer hacking is taken to extreme levels in this exceptional action adventure . . . The story moves quickly and captivates readers with every page.”

  —RT Book Reviews on Game of Fear

  PRAISE FOR THE SINGING RIVER NOVELS

  “Romantic suspense favorite Robin Perini blends mystery, drama, thriller, and love story into Forgotten Secrets, an intense, sophisticated novel crafted with an extra portion of poignant . . . A breathtaking read.”

  —Kathy Altman, USA Today’s Happy Ever After blog

  “As always, Robin Perini never disappoints when it comes to romantic suspense. Her latest book, Forgotten Secrets, takes the reader through a web of secrets about missing children, broken families, and a grandmother with Alzheimer’s witness to her own granddaughter’s abduction with no way to tell what she saw. Throw in an FBI agent and an ex-Navy SEAL with a little history of their own, unaware they are on diverging paths to solving mysteries old and new, and you have a superb tale unfolding before your eyes.”

  —Sharon Sala, New York Times bestselling author

  ALSO BY ROBIN PERINI

  Carder Texas Connections

  Finding Her Son

  Cowboy in the Crossfire

  Christmas Conspiracy

  Undercover Texas

  The Cradle Conspiracy

  Secret Obsession

  Christmas Justice

  San Antonio Secret

  Cowboy’s Secret Son

  Last Stand in Texas

  The Montgomery Justice Novels

  In Her Sights (Luke’s story)

  Behind the Lies (Zach’s story)

  Game of Fear (Gabe’s story)

  Singing River Novels

  Forgotten Secrets

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright © 2019 by Robin Perini

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  ISBN-13: 9781503903449

  ISBN-10: 1503903443

  Cover design by David Drummond

  This book is dedicated to the long-term caregivers whose unselfish actions make the unbearable survivable. Their knowledge, empathy, loyalty, dedication, devotion, and commitment cannot be overestimated or overappreciated. They are a beacon of light guiding families through a terrifying journey. From my heart to yours, thank you for all that you do and all that you are: angels on earth.

  CONTENTS

  START READING

  PROLOGUE

  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

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  EPILOGUE

  AFTERWORD

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS

  PREVIEW: IN HER SIGHTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Faith is the strength by which a shattered world shall emerge into the light.

  —Helen Keller (1937)

  PROLOGUE

  For seven years they’d been safe. Longer than she’d expected, far shorter than she’d hoped.

  Kim Jordan cut the engine to her family’s rusted pickup. Her headlights automatically blinked off, and the inky black of nothing enveloped her, suffocating her with the maliciousness of the nightmare she’d prayed she and her daughter had left behind long ago.

  Unable to move, she clutched the steering wheel until her fingers ached. She didn’t know how, but someone had discovered their secret. The alternative explanation froze her insides.

  She glanced at the small diamond ring on her left hand. She dreaded walking through the front door. How could she tell Aaron they’d been found? Her husband had kept her secrets from everyone all these years. Including her daughter.

  Oh, Chloe. She buried her face in her hands. So many lies, so much deceit, for so many years.

  She’d had no choice. She’d vowed to protect her little girl from the danger they’d escaped. Kim refused to give in now.

  A wicked gust of Wyoming wind buffeted the truck, and she braced herself for the next assault. With all her strength she shoved open the door. A blast of air whipped through her homemade coat, and she hunched down, stiffening against the unusually vicious September weather.

  The sun had set halfway through the drive home from selling her produce at the farmers’ market. She’d run out of options. Again. Unable to stop the grip of foreboding squeezing her heart, she seized her coat’s natural wool with numb fingers and wrapped it close around her.

  Besides her husband, only one other person knew the truth. The man she’d left behind. The man who’d vowed to break her. The man who’d been inches away from killing her.

  A loud metal clatter pierced the night. Startled, she ducked, the sound triggering old patterns she’d believed she’d vanquished. The terror she’d lived under never left, though. Not really.

  She squinted through the darkness. Her gaze tore right, then left, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Still, she couldn’t shake the sense of doom choking her. Why hadn’t Aaron turned on the porch light? She needed the strength beaming from that beacon of hope.

  Her husband must have forgotten. Tonight of all nights.

  She slammed the door of the decades-old truck and shuddered. Frost-laden wind needled her skin, and a low groan echoed from her family’s haven at the base of the Wind River Range.

  She’d whispered a fervent prayer every day since she’d set foot on the outskirts of Singing River seven years ago that she’d outrun her past f
or good.

  She’d needed her old life dead. Deader than her garden after a late Wyoming frost.

  Unfortunately, seven had never been Kim’s lucky number.

  A blast of nature’s fury shoved her forward. She stumbled, struggling to reach the comforting wooden door of the house that had safeguarded their family. She didn’t want to say goodbye to their home, but leaving was the only surefire way to stay ahead of the past. Unless Aaron could come up with another plan.

  They’d done everything in their power to protect their small family. They’d chosen a home in the middle of nowhere, self-sufficient, away from the nearest town’s prying eyes. Living as close to off the grid as they could in this world.

  Where had they gone wrong?

  The dead of night gnawed apprehension beneath her skin. Taking a breath, praying for courage, Kim shouldered her way through the front door. She closed it behind her and flipped the dead bolt.

  “Aaron, honey, are you here?” She forced her tone to the pretense that today was like any other.

  Only silence greeted her.

  She slipped off her gloves. Strange. He should be home by now.

  A dim light shone from the kitchen.

  “Aaron?”

  Her tentative voice echoed through the silent living room. She slipped out of her coat and hung it on the rack before noticing Chloe’s parka was missing from its hook. Aaron and Chloe were probably in the barn, bedding down the animals. Kim couldn’t have married a better man. Aaron loved her and had found it in his heart to love her daughter as his own. He’d rescued her from a life of fear and suspicions. He’d taught her that love could be gentle and kind.

  She had no doubt he would forgive her for their having to disappear again, but to soften the blow, she’d fix his favorite meal. Chloe, on the other hand . . . Kim didn’t want to think about what this would do to her daughter. At twelve Chloe still had nightmares, even if she’d blocked out most of their life before Singing River.

  Instinctively, her daughter knew monsters existed; she just didn’t know how close to home they could prey. More than anything, Kim hated the possibility that she’d have to destroy her daughter’s innocence.

  She dug into her purse and eyed the blank envelope that had been taped to their post office box. She didn’t want to touch it. Her hands trembled at the thought. They’d grown complacent over the years, living in this small, sheltered town, keeping to themselves, not inviting attention or raising too many questions.

  The years had passed, and she’d felt safe.

  She’d been a fool. She’d ignored the warning signs the last few months. An item out of place here or there in the house. That tingle at the base of her neck of someone watching, waiting.

  She disregarded her gut, and her instincts.

  With a sigh she straightened her shoulders. They’d face the future as one, the way they always had. Together, their family would start over once again.

  At first she hadn’t known where to turn. Their small family couldn’t afford to bring anyone into their confidence, but she hadn’t had a choice. Even now she couldn’t shake the feeling she’d made a mistake, but she trusted only one person outside of her family. She’d already called the number she’d been given, hoping she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life. Kim snapped on the lamp beside the sofa and walked into the kitchen. She froze in horror.

  Aaron sat in his chair, bound with rope, his mouth duct-taped, his eyes wide with terror. Kim stiffened. She could feel a presence behind her. She whirled around and gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  He pointed a gun at her chest and smiled. “We’ve been waiting for you, Kim. Or should I use your real name?”

  She gaped at him.

  “Should I reveal every lie you’ve told, every way you’ve betrayed your vows?”

  Kim swallowed, the gulp echoing through the silence.

  “Your marriage is a fraud, a fabrication, a betrayal.” He smiled, his eyes dead and cold and terrifying. “Don’t bother to apologize or beg for forgiveness. All you can do now is accept your punishment.”

  “Your bed will be your tomb.” The words were calm, with an oddly cheerful tone.

  Kim had no idea how much time had passed, but the midmorning sun bathed her face in warmth, piercing the crack between the drapes. She forced open her eyes to the nightmare she and Aaron shared.

  Their bedroom, once a haven from the outside world, had become a prison. They had been covered with the quilt she’d sewn for their fifth wedding anniversary, as if their murderer were tucking them in for a good night’s sleep.

  She knew better. Her legs were leaden and her arms refused to move. She couldn’t plead for mercy. Whatever had been injected into her and Aaron had thickened her tongue, and even her desperation had grown silent.

  She no longer cared about herself. They were dead. She knew that.

  With the last of her strength, Kim turned her head on the pillow. Aaron stared at her. Sorrow filled his eyes.

  No anger, no condemnation. Simply unconditional love shone from his face. He was such a good man. He loved her. She loved him. They both loved Chloe.

  That her daughter hadn’t been captured remained their only solace. Kim had to believe her daughter had hidden in a safe place. Chloe was smart and braver than she knew. She would survive.

  Kim understood Aaron well enough to know he would gladly die now as long as their daughter escaped this hell.

  “That’s right. Catch one last look at each other.” Their tormenter flicked a lighter, anger ripping off him as he lit the end of one of Aaron’s cigarettes and simply touched the burning embers to the edge of the quilt.

  Kim could only watch in horror.

  With a light push, he knocked over an oil lamp. A whoosh surged from the floor.

  Black smoke billowed and flames shot up the side of the bed. Inside Kim screamed, the echo pounding against her head.

  Smoke burned her lungs with each breath.

  Without so much as a word, he strode out of the room and, with a final, satisfied smirk, closed the door behind him, trapping them inside the inferno.

  No! You can’t do this! Come back.

  Sparks arced over the bed. Kim blinked through the swirls of black and brown and white poisonous clouds. Fingers of heat scorched closer and closer, ripping at her flesh, peeling it away.

  Chloe! God help you. Don’t come home, baby! Please stay safe.

  One final, agonizing scream reverberated silently through her head, and the world went black.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Rusted cars and twisted metal stretched out for hundreds of feet behind the chained and padlocked gate of the bankrupt salvage yard. An iron cemetery of sorts. FBI special agent Riley Lambert gripped the fence. On days like today, she couldn’t help but despise her ability to place herself firmly into the mind of the worst kind of killer.

  Three days ago, Riley had left Singing River, Wyoming, for Washington, DC, to review the meager evidence in a series of kidnappings that had terrorized Baltimore and the surrounding counties. All women about the same age, same build, all commuting late at night, all vanished along with their vehicles. No signs of struggle, no clues, no bodies except the unrecognizable, mangled remains of Tiffany Hoyt, and even then, the evidence was scant to nothing.

  Forty-eight hours later, after little sleep, she’d lucked out and narrowed the suspect pool based on the social media video of a truck towing the latest victim’s vehicle.

  This morning, she’d identified the prime suspect.

  Now, bumping up on noon, she could only pray Sarah Ann Conway was still alive. Somewhere in this maze of metal carcasses.

  Riley peered through the torrent of steel skeletons. The view would give anyone nightmares, and some of these vehicles could very well double as coffins.

  If she was right.

  She tensed her fist. The fence’s metal sliced into her hand, but she didn’t feel a thing. She could only gaze through the chain-link. The forensics te
am had identified the rust and three types of automotive paint from the victim’s home, which suggested the kidnapper frequented somewhere with a lot of old cars. Add that to the evidence of industrial oil used in railroad cars embedded in their suspect’s shoes, and this was the only location that fit the profile within the triangle of his abduction zone.

  The victims were here. They had to be.

  She peered at the seemingly endless rows of empty chassis, acres of them, stacked ten feet high, at least. The pulsing throb of a headache hadn’t receded. Footsteps padded up behind her. Riley recognized the rhythm. Her back stiffened.

  “You sure this is the place?” her boss asked when he stopped at her side. “It’ll take days to search, and tonight’s my thirtieth anniversary. If this turns into a snipe hunt, I’ll be paying for it on the home front for at least a decade.”

  She ignored the skepticism in Supervisory Special Agent Tom Hickok’s voice. She recognized the tone. Her old boss didn’t doubt her theory. He doubted her hope.

  Riley fought to stay calm. She knew this case was a test. One she needed to pass. “Sarah Ann Conway was kidnapped a week ago. The others were taken every seven days. We only found the first victim’s body, and Harrison likes collections so I think he kept them alive. Until he needed a replacement.” Riley dug her thumbnail into her palm. “Since he hasn’t had time to come back and kill her, she still has a chance.”

  “Your theory hinges on your positive identification of Joseph Clyde Harrison,” Tom said. “And since he jumped off that bridge so we couldn’t arrest him, much less interrogate him, this case is all on you, Riley.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  He gave her that can’t-you-play-by-the-rules-once look, and she dug her nails into her hand.

  “Everything about him fits my profile,” she countered, pretending she wasn’t trying to convince herself more than her boss. Her assumptions about the disappearances in Baltimore and the surrounding counties had to be true. “Highly educated, yet he settled on a banal job. He separated himself from his family. Ostracized himself from any relationships except those his mind conjured. He was delusional, yet functioning. You saw his apartment.” She chewed on her lower lip and cast a sidelong glance at Tom. “Harrison smiled directly at me before he jumped off that bridge. I think he knew she was still alive. I think he was taunting us, daring us to find her before it’s too late. I won’t let him win another one. Not this time. Sarah has to be here.”