Spotlight & Giveaway: DARK LEGACY by Jen Talty

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Jen Talty’s new release: DARK LEGACY

Hello Readers,

 
Shannon Brendel, a therapist for troubled teens, wants to find the daughter she gave up when was sixteen. She doesn’t want a relationship. She only wants to know her child is safe and has a better life. One free from her father’s dark legacy. However, when she begins the search, she will lead the evil man she feels she helped create right to her daughter’s doorstep.

This is a man she’s vowed never to see again. A man who could easily pull her back into the depths of hell her father had placed her in. He is a man who is hell bent on revenge and will stop at nothing to see that Shannon, and their daughter, pay the ultimate price.

Jackson Armstrong, a private investigator will take just about any case except those involving adoption. He has his reasons. So, when his super sexy neighbor asks him to help her find the little girl she gave up years ago, he says no. That is until Shannon’s patients start mysteriously disappearing, showing up dead, and Shannon becomes the best suspect. Jackson will do whatever it takes to prove Shannon is innocent and protect her and her daughter.

But will it be enough to save them from such a dark legacy.

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from DARK LEGACY (The Legacy Series Book 1)

 

Chapter One

Today marked the anniversary of the day Shannon Brendel had been given a second chance at life.
She tapped her toe to the country song playing through her speaker as she waited for the steaming bitter brew to stop dripping into her mug. Today always brought a combination of excitement, anxiety, and sheer joy. For most of her adult life, she’d done everything she could to shove the memories into a lockbox inside her mind.
But today, she embraced one small piece of her past.
So much negativity had come from her childhood. She tried hard to take all that baggage and stuff it under her bed. But the older she got, the harder it became. She needed to know that she’d done one good thing in her darkest hour.
She blew out a puff of air as butterflies filled her stomach. It was time to move forward and ask her neighbor for help.
She clutched the feather pendant dangling from her neck. Her stepmonster—no—stepmother and now best friend had given it to her shortly after her father had died, telling her it represented freedom.
Her freedom.
And what she did with the rest of her life was now her choice.
She kissed the pendant before snagging her coffee and heading outside to soak in a little morning sun as it kissed the crystal blue waters of Lake George. The second the spring air hit her body, she closed her eyes and took in a long breath, enjoying the cool breeze.
Her cottage was the last of five, each nearly identical in shape and size. A line of tall, lush trees with branches reaching across the long, curved driveway, hid the cabins from view of the main road.
The hum of a boat engine caught Shannon’s attention, and she snapped her gaze toward the lake. “Oh, no,” she whispered as her mug slipped from her fingers, crashing onto the wooden deck. Hot coffee singed her skin. She kicked her feet, but her stare remained on the tall mast with a line slinking down, rattling against the metal pole like a ghost gliding across the floor, rubbing its grubby fingers together, ready to capture and never let go.
“Shit. Are you okay?” Jackson Armstrong asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
She swallowed the bile smacking the back of her throat as she stared at her neighbor as he bolted across the yard.
“Is that…that…?” She squeezed her eyes closed, then opened them slowly. No way could there be a thirty-five-foot Tartan sailboat moored off the end of her dock.
“Shannon.” He knelt, picking up the broken ceramic pieces. “Stay still. I don’t want you to cut yourself.”
“Where did that come from?” She pointed toward the lake. The boat wasn’t identical to the one her father had owned, and it was certainly newer, but there was no mistaking that Tartan had manufactured it.
Jackson stood, his broad shoulders blocking the morning sun but not the damn boat. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen one in the last few years. The lake was filled with them. She just never expected one to be front and center at her home.
“Isn’t she pretty? I named her Sweet Freedom.” Jackson brought his fingers to his mouth, making a kissing noise and raising his hand in the air like in a bad Italian movie.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbled.
“You don’t like the name? I almost went with No Sailing Around, but Katie, my business partner, thought that was stupid.”
“I agree. That’s a stupid name.” What was she going to do? Tell her neighbor that a boat like that represented the kind of chains that not only held a person prisoner but also held the power to destroy the remnants of what might be left of a beaten mind, body, and soul? “But having grown up around boats, you should go with something personal. Maybe something like, Finding the Wind, which goes hand in hand with what you do for a living.”
“That’s an interesting name, but as you can see, I already had Sweet Freedom painted on the back. And my sister came up with the name. She thinks it represents my move up here.”
Shannon bit back the sarcastic laugh that threatened to escape her lips. She raised her foot to step to the grass, but Jackson lifted her into the air. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He set her down on the ground in front of the common picnic area between the two houses. The cool grass tickled her toes.
“There are still some slivers from your mug, and you’re barefoot,” he said, shaking his head.
“I like to go barefoot, and there’s no need to hoist me up and drag me across the yard.” She brushed at her slacks, glaring. “You could have just said, ‘Be careful.’”
Jackson raised his hands into the air. “I was trying to be a gentleman.” His jeans hung low on his hips, and his untucked black T-shirt showed off his taut abs. He looked more like a Texas Ranger with his cowboy hat than a man who enjoyed sailing.
She let her gaze take in the details of the vessel’s fine craftsmanship as it rolled with a few waves. There was no reason to let that boat get under her skin. She held the power, not it. “I’m sorry. I’m a little jumpy this morning.”
“You don’t say? I hope I’m not the one making you skittish.”
“No. It’s not you. It’s just that my dad used to own a boat like that, and today is the anniversary of his death.” She tossed in the latter only because people generally gave her their sympathies and didn’t ask questions. She should feel guilty using her father’s death that way.
But she didn’t.
“Oh, shit. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” She gave the standard response instead of asking him to jump up and down for joy and celebrate with her. “I was just startled by seeing your new toy.”
She set her emotions aside and did her best to support Jackson and what seemed to be something he held dear. His boat and his life had absolutely nothing to do with her, and she needed to get over it.
“When did you get her?” Shannon asked, thankful that her voice came across as strong and steady—her insides were anything but. Mentally, she used every trick her therapist had taught her, and those she taught to her patients, to sedate the beast that lurked in the shadows of her mind. There would always be triggers.
And she’d always battle them.
But today, they no longer needed to control her life.
Even when the biggest trigger of all taunted her from fifty feet away.
“I bought her a couple of weeks ago. I’d love to take you out on her. Even if it’s not a windy day, we could troll over to Sandy Bay or maybe up to Rogers Rock.”
“I’m not a fan of sailing. Or boating, for that matter. I haven’t been since my father died.” She bit her tongue. Jackson had a way of making her loose-lipped. He kept his body language open, rarely crossing his legs or arms. He always made eye contact, and he seldom showed facial cues other than a relaxed jaw and a twitchy brow.
He’d make a good therapist.
“Why not?” he asked, resting his strong hand on her shoulder. His fingers squeezed gently, offering her comfort she didn’t need.
She resisted the urge to shrug off his touch, but only because she didn’t want to appear any ruder than she’d already been. “It just brings back too many painful memories.”
“I can understand that. But maybe it’s time to get back on the horse.”
She coughed. “I’m not going to change my mind on this one, but I appreciate the offer.”
“But you might change your mind about going out to dinner or having drinks with me?” He rose his right brow as he tipped his hat. “I told you, I’m a persistent kind of guy.”
The corners of her mouth tugged upward into an involuntary smile. The man wouldn’t give up, no matter how many times she said no. And at this point, she wasn’t sure why she continued turning him down.
He was kind.
Considerate as he always carried her groceries.
Shoveled the snow when it got out of hand.
And he was handsome.
Maybe it was time to say yes.
He twisted a piece of her hair between his fingers. “You got your hair cut.”
She pushed a strand behind her ear, a little dumbfounded that he noticed. “I needed a change.”
He pointed to his forehead. “I like the bang thing. And shoulder-length fits your face.”
“Are you trying to use flattery to get me to go out with you?” With most men, flirting felt as stiff and phony as cheap leather sticking to the back side of her legs on a hot summer day. With Jackson, the kind words coated her body with a soft, foamy lather that, when washed away, still lingered with a refreshing tingle.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“I am impressed you noticed,” she said. “I suppose I should give you points for that.”
He shrugged. “I have five sisters.”
“Ah, that explains a lot,” she said with a laugh.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He leaned against the railing, folding one arm across his chest, while sipping his coffee.
It was the first time she’d noticed any hint of annoyance in his tone and body language.
Stop sizing him up. He’s your neighbor, not a client.
“Your taste in furniture, for one.” She pointed to his front door. “I mean, I’ve never met a bachelor who has a place that looks like it should be the centerfold for Lake Living. It looks like you had it staged with how the leather sofa sits a few inches from the back wall and the matching chair at a ninety-degree angle in the corner by the stairs. And don’t get me started on the picture over the couch. A man would not pick out an authentic image of the lake. No, he would have picked out dogs fishing or some such crazy thing.”
“You’re picking on me for having good taste?” He dropped his hand to his side and grinned.
“Oh, good grief. No.” She shook her head. “It’s just that the first time I walked into your house, I thought I entered a showroom. Or worse, my mother’s living room, where nothing can be touched without wearing gloves.”
“My sisters did the whole thing. I just unloaded the crap off the U-Haul using my brute strength and put it where they told me.”
“For some reason, I think you had a lot of say in the décor.”
“A little. I mean, one of my sisters is an interior decorator, and it’s rubbed off on me.”
“That’s cute. Are you all close?”
His smile widened, and his dark eyes sparkled like the moon dancing on the waters below. “Actually, we are. But they all live in Delaware, where I’m originally from. I’m hoping to get them up here with their families for the Fourth of July. It would be a lot of fun. My sisters are all pretty loud and very protective of me.”
“Really? Isn’t it the brother who is supposed to defend their sisters’ honor?”
“I’m the baby.”
Laughter floated easily from her throat. She enjoyed Jackson way more than she should. For the last year, she’d admired him from a distance, but she wouldn’t let herself get too close. He was the kind of man who could break through her carefully crafted defenses, and she wasn’t ready to get involved with anyone.
Not yet.
Not until she knew that she’d given her little girl a better a life.
Since her father died, she hadn’t had much time for dating. Getting her PhD had been one hell of a ride. She still didn’t have time for a man, but she could use a friend. “The youngest of six and the only boy. Perhaps we should talk about that and how it’s affected your adult life.”
“Don’t start your therapy stuff with me.” He pointed to the broken mug on the table. “Can I get you a refill?”
“I was hoping to see you this morning. I have something I need to talk to you about.”
“That sounds ominous.” Jackson had a rugged look about him. The deepening wrinkles around his eyes indicated a man who had seen a few things in his life. She figured him to be in his late thirties or very early forties—not that much older than her. Not that it mattered.
He wasn’t too tall, maybe five-ten. And he had a kind heart and didn’t mind showing it. If she were any other woman, she’d probably be falling at his feet.
Instead, she just drooled over him in private.
“I’ll be right back. I just put a fresh pot on,” he said.
She stared at the side of his house, avoiding the lake and the boat. She had overreacted, but it wouldn’t be easy seeing a constant reminder of what her father had done to her or what she’d been forced to give up.
“Here you go.” Jackson handed her a cup. The bitter aroma filled her nose like pure, unsweetened cocoa. “Are you free for dinner tonight?”
She laughed. “I’m actually having dinner with my stepmother, but maybe we can have a drink after.”
“Are you actually agreeing to a date?” he asked with wide eyes and a big, goofy smile.
The man was too cute for his own good.
“Not a date. Just a drink with a friend. Say around nine? Right here? We can build a fire.”
“Sounds great to me.” He raised his mug.
“Can I ask you a work-related question?”
“Sure,” Jackson said.
“Do you ever take on cases for friends?”
“All the time. Why?”
She stole a peek at the sailboat. That night had changed her life in more ways than one. “I’d like to hire you.”
“For?” He set his coffee on the railing, easing closer, leaving his arms dangling at his sides.
He must have taken a ton of psychology courses because he knew exactly how to put someone at ease. Anyone would bare their soul to this man and not even know they were doing it.
She let out a puff of air. The only person she’d ever spoken to about her daughter had been Annette. Even her mother couldn’t bear to hear about it, always telling Shannon that she’d been a horrible teenager and to pray for forgiveness.
“Two things, actually. I don’t like doing this, but a…a friend of mine missed a lunch date on Friday, and I haven’t been able to reach her all weekend. She’s never done that, and I’m a little worried. Could I trouble you to just check on her or something? I don’t mind paying you.”
“I can do that,” he said, but the way he tilted his head indicated that he wasn’t buying the friend part.
Shit. She could get fired for that one.
“I’m just concerned, and I want to know she’s okay.”
“You just want me to get a visual? Or do you need me to contact her?”
Shannon looked at the sky for an answer. Deep down in the pit of her stomach, she knew that something wasn’t right with Belinda, and she couldn’t let it go. “Just a visual. Her name is Belinda Montgomery, and she—”
“Name is all I need. If I want more, I’ll call,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. And no need to pay me. Now, what’s the second?”
“This one is a little bit more detailed, and I’ll insist on compensating you for your time.” She reached for her pendant, running her finger up and down the feathered sides. Not a day went by that she didn’t wear the necklace. It drove her mother crazy, but only because of where it had come from and the fact that Shannon still had a relationship with her father’s second wife.
“If it makes you feel more comfortable, your case will be confidential. The only other person who will know the details, or your name, will be Katie, my partner.”
“I can’t say that makes me feel better. This is pretty personal and not easy for me.” But she wasn’t going to turn back now. She just needed a few deep breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Slow and controlled. “I want to find the child I gave up for adoption.” Her fingers trembled over the silver jewelry dangling from her neck. Her gaze darted toward the parking area, focusing on Jackson’s shiny pickup truck. A diesel. It had rumbled many a late night, loud and proud. But it always calmed her nerves, even when it woke her up.
Jackson was one of the few men who always made her feel safe.
“You want me to find the kid you gave up?” Jackson’s tone had an edge she’d only heard when he got upset with the lawn guy for ruining his rose bush. Jackson hadn’t ever yelled at the groundskeeper, but the anger lacing his words was more terrifying than any screaming match could be.
Shannon swallowed the thick lump in her throat. This was turning out to be harder than she’d thought. Her fears over being judged ran wild, and she knew that she read too much into Jackson’s attitude. “This may sound odd, but I just want to know if she’s okay. That she was placed in a good home.”
He raked a hand through his long hair. “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to say no. I don’t do adoption cases under any circumstances.” He turned his back and leaned against the deck with his arms folded across his chest.
Closed-off. And the tension that filled the air nearly choked her. The therapist in her wanted to ask probing questions to tackle the problem at hand. To figure out why adoption cases were a trigger for him. But she reminded herself that he wasn’t her client, and this was about her finding her daughter and getting some closure for her past.
“Why not?” she asked. The thumping of her heart roared in her head. “I would think you’d get a lot of cases like this in your line of work.” She didn’t care what his issues were, only why he didn’t want to do her a favor.
Or at the very least, take her money.
“And I always turn them away. It’s nothing personal—”
“Like hell.” She took him by the shoulder and yanked until his body twisted. She caught his gaze and gasped at the judgment staring back at her. “This is very personal to me, and you’re not only saying no—which, okay, you have that right—but you’re also condemning me and my decision, and that’s not fair. You don’t know my history. Or anything about why I might have been completely incapable of raising a child at sixteen.”
He let out a long breath, nodding as if he understood. But he didn’t. How could he? “Please understand, I’m not judging what you did. I do, however, have a problem with what you’re asking me to do.”
“I think you owe me the reason why, at least,” she said under her breath. For years, she’d let her mother pretend that Shannon had never had a baby. She allowed the shame her mother felt to become hers. Not anymore. And she’d be damned if she would let Jackson—or anyone for that matter—make her feel shitty for one of the most difficult decisions she’d ever had to make.
“Do you want the truth?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder, his dark orbs conveying a resolve that could only mask a crushing pain. She saw it every day in the eyes of the patients she treated.
The same look stared back at her every morning.
And today, she could see it cut deep into Jackson’s psychological make-up. Her pulse steadied as she braced herself for his explanation. “I expect nothing less from you,” she said.
“You might not like what I have to say.”
“I don’t like what you’ve said so far, so I don’t think you’re going to make it worse. At least maybe I’ll understand and respect your decision.”
“I don’t think it’s right for birth parents to insert themselves into the lives of the children they gave up. Maybe if it were the other way around, and the child wanted to know… But even then, I’d still decline the case. I’ve seen what it can do to families.”
“But you’ll spy on a woman because her husband thinks she’s cheating.” She smoothed her hands down her slacks.
“You’re right. I will,” he said with a steely tone. “I’m not the only private investigator in town. I can recommend someone who will do an excellent job. In the meantime, I’m still happy to check in on your friend.” He downed his coffee in one gulp. “I’ll text you contact information for a buddy of mine. I send him a lot of cases like this. He’s good, and he’ll be discreet. I’m really sorry, but it would be like asking you to perform brain surgery just because you have a PhD. It’s not your specialty.”
She opened her mouth and snapped it shut three times. His specialty was finding people. Said so right on his business card that he’d given her when they first met. She had half a mind to call him on his bullshit, but the sudden screeching of tires spinning on the pavement of the road above caught her attention.
A van nearly missed a vehicle at a standstill at the top of their driveway.
“Stupid place to park a car.” Jackson flipped his mug, tossing the last few drops of the liquid to the grass. “Do you happen to know the owner of that vehicle?”
She stared at a light blue sedan. “I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “But the first cabin on the hill isn’t rented this year, that I know of. Maybe it’s someone looking into it.”
“Third morning in a row that I’ve noticed. But it’s never there before I go to bed at night.”
“Do you think it’s something we should be worried about?” she asked.
“I’m probably being paranoid. I should really get going.” He tipped his hat.
“I’ll see you tonight at nine.”
“I know you’ve got plans with family, so take your time. We can do drinks another night.”
“Are you canceling on me because I had a baby when I was a young girl and gave her up?” She drew her lips into a tight line, breathing in through her nose and exhaling with purpose. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had taken offense to her choice.
Or maybe it was because she’d had sex at such a young age. Imagine if he knew the truth. That would blow his mind into a million tiny pieces.
“It’s not that. I just think with it being the anniversary of your father’s death and being around your family, it might be best if we do it another night.”
“I don’t need you to think for me.” She shoved the mug at his chest. “Thanks for the coffee.” She turned on her heel and stomped into her house, slamming the door.
She didn’t need Jackson to find her daughter.
She didn’t need him to have a drink with her.
Hell, she didn’t need him one damn bit.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at her mother’s name flashing across the screen. “Sorry, Mom, I’m not dealing with your drama today.”

***

Jackson took off his sunglasses, slipped them into his front pocket, and stared across the parking lot at the local bank in the middle of Saratoga Springs, about twenty-five minutes south of the village of Lake George.
He shouldn’t have been so harsh with his response to Shannon’s request. He certainly could have declined in a way that didn’t make him come off like a judgmental asshole. He respected the fact that she’d been brave enough to have a child at sixteen and give it up for adoption.
That had been the only good thing his birth mother had done, and he wished she’d left well enough alone.
“You look constipated. And whenever you scrunch your forehead like that, something is bothering you.” Katie said. “Now, lay it on me.”
“I just have a lot on my mind. Don’t forget to send the check to the painters. They really did a great job.”
“You’re such a girl,” Katie said. “Your smooth, chocolate-whatever paint isn’t going to act as some kind of truth serum, so our clients tell us why they really hired us. We don’t need to be their therapist, and we certainly don’t need to know all the sorted details of their lives. We just need the work, and we’re the best at finding things.”
“We are. And it was my sister who picked out the color. You have to admit, the office looks so much better.”
“And that’s necessary because we spend so much time there,” she said with all the snark she was notorious for. Katie tended to hide behind angst. He’d gotten used to it and found it endearing, but it didn’t have that effect on most people.
“Hey. When we aren’t on a stakeout, we might as well enjoy our surroundings.”
“Whatever makes you happy,” she said.
He did his best to keep his mind on the task at hand and not how he needed to apologize to Shannon.
Or how he wanted to kiss her.
And not just once.
And not only on the lips.
Shannon had been driving him crazy for months. And while she always politely declined his advances, she continued to passively flirt—if there was such a thing. She’d give him a slight smile with a wave, and if he looked close enough, he could see a mischievous twinkle in her eye. A few times, when the temperatures rose above fifty, regardless of the season, they shared in-depth conversations about topics in the news. She had to be one of the most insightful women he’d ever met. Every morning, he checked the weather, hoping it was warm enough so he might be able to catch her hanging outside, sipping her coffee. He couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day.
Katie thumbed through the file they had compiled this morning. “According to our client, Miss Belinda Montgomery should be in the bank.”
“But she’s not.” Jackson pulled out the piece of paper from his pocket with the license plate of the sedan that had been parked by his house and set it on the dashboard. “Don’t you think it’s weird that someone hired us to find this girl yesterday evening, and then this morning, my neighbor asked me to check in on her?”
“What did you tell the pretty doctor?”
“Nothing, just that I’d check up on her friend.”
“No such thing as coincidences.” Katie tilted her head. “Is Belinda Dr. Brendel’s patient?”
“She didn’t say. But I’d say that’s a good guess. Once I heard the name, I knew it could get awkward, so I just told her I’d get a visual, which is all she wanted anyway.”
“Belinda’s a recovering addict, along with her roommate. That is just the kind of thing the doctor specializes in.”
Janice Hargrove, Belinda’s roommate, had been concerned that her friend might have relapsed. Jackson had to agree. “So, our missing girl is probably off filling her nose full of coke somewhere,” Jackson said. He knew all too well that addicts, no matter how many times they professed that they’d changed, used again. It was only a matter of time.
He’d given his birth mother a couple of second chances, and she’d snorted all the money he’d lent her. He’d smartened up when she asked him for a kidney. He never wished the woman dead, but she’d died two years after she found a kidney donor—of a drug overdose. His muscles tightened as he thought of all the people who could have used that kidney and wouldn’t have taken it for granted.
But his birth mother had been a selfish woman, never thinking about anyone but herself, except for the day she’d dropped him off at a fire station, where his adoptive…no, his real father had been working.
“People can and do kick the habit, you know.”
“For maybe five minutes,” Jackson said as he opened the door. The crisp air smacked his skin, but summer was well on its way, and so was the insanity that came with living in a tourist town. “People don’t change that much.” When his birth mother had first come into his life, he experimented with drugs, looking for her approval. He’d gotten lost in the insanity of the world, but thanks to his family, he’d gotten back on the straight and narrow.
But he hadn’t been an addict. He hadn’t developed a physical or emotional need for the chemical.
He had, however, developed that need for his birth mother. In a way, she’d become his drug of choice. He wondered if he’d still allow her in and out of his life had she not ripped his heart from his chest and fed it to the wolves.
“You’re the most optimistic person I know, except with this particular subject. Well, this and marriage, but I know why you’re not a fan of wedded bliss. But why don’t you think people can change their stripes?” Katie took off her hat, fiddled with her ponytail, and then leapt from the Jeep, landing perfectly in her three-inch heels, which didn’t go with her torn-up pants. He couldn’t even tell if they were sweats, fatigues, or maybe a pair of mangled slacks.
“Because I’ve seen it time and time again. Only five percent of those who kick the habit stay the course for life. That’s a fact.”
“That’s a statistic, and it could be wrong.” Katie adjusted her baseball cap, showing off her French manicure. She took long strides, her heels clicking against the pavement. It amazed him that the woman didn’t fall on her face half the time.
They continued walking toward the bank’s entrance. The sun beat down on the dark pavement. It would hit sixty-five by noon. He opened the door, and they entered the institution. It was a relatively small bank. Three tellers and a drive-thru window to the right of the doors. To the left was a welcome desk, a white-haired woman sitting behind it with a big smile. “May I help you?” she asked.
“We’d like to speak to Miss Montgomery,” Katie said with a return smile.
“I’m sorry, she’s not here today. Can someone else help you?”
“May we speak with her boss?” Katie asked.
“One moment please,” the woman said, then turned her chair and slowly lowered herself. She took a few steps before she disappeared behind a wall to what appeared to be four offices, cubical style.
Jackson and Katie waited patiently for about five minutes before the elderly woman reappeared. “Ms. Timms will see you now.” She waved them in.
Jackson followed Katie into the office. He almost always let her take the lead. A short, heavyset, middle-aged woman who couldn’t be taller than five feet greeted them. She stood behind her desk with an extended hand. “I am Lisa Timms, the bank manager. What can I help you with today?”
“Ms. Timms. My name is Jackson Armstrong, and this is Katie Bateman,” Jackson started. “We don’t want to alarm you, but we are private investigators and are looking for Belinda Montgomery.”
Ms. Timms sat down and folded her hands on the desk. She looked him directly in the eye when she spoke. “I cannot discuss my employees with you. I am sorry.”
“Can you at least tell us when you last spoke to Miss Montgomery?” Katie asked in her best feminine voice, the one she thought other women related to. In reality, they didn’t.
“Thursday.” Ms. Timms frowned. “If something has happened and I need to speak to the police or something, then I would be more than happy to cooperate with them.”
Katie leaned forward, resting her hand on the desk. Her smile seemed forced, but then again, he knew her too well. Others didn’t have his insight. “We don’t mean to alarm you, ma’am. A friend of Miss Montgomery’s is concerned because she has not heard from her in a while.”
Ms. Timms let out a long breath. “Well, I can tell you that Miss Montgomery requested a few days off. She’s an excellent employee and has never taken a sick day, so I gave her the personal time. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” Now, it was Ms. Timms’ turn to lean in. “Between you and me.” Ms. Timms looked about the office before focusing her attention on Katie. “If this is her roommate, I know they had somewhat of an argument. So maybe Miss Montgomery just needed a little space.”
“Really,” Jackson said. “Can you elaborate?” He didn’t have the same charm as Katie did, but women generally responded to him just the same.
“No.” Ms. Timms leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “I would be gossiping and talking out of turn. I’ve already said too much, but I thought you should know you could be on a wild goose chase. I’m sure she’s just having a romantic getaway.”
“Romantic?” Jackson questioned, a bit dismayed that his charm hadn’t gotten more from the woman.
“Oh, dear. Me and my big mouth.” Ms. Timms fanned herself.
“When is Miss Montgomery due back to work?” Katie asked.
“In two days,” Ms. Timms said.
“So…Wednesday,” Jackson clarified.
“Shall I have her give you a call when she returns?” Ms. Timms asked as she leaned back and folded her arms across her chest in a closed-off manner.
Jackson knew when to call it quits. He stood and pulled out a business card, placing it face-up on the desk. “Yes, please do.”
“Thank you for your time,” Katie said, glancing up at him with an evil stare.
She liked to be in control. All the time. She always wanted to call the shots, and for the most part, she was always on point. But sometimes, she pushed too hard. This would be one of those times.
They made their way back outside, where the temperature had already risen at least five degrees.
Katie’s temp probably exceeded that of a hot tub. “You excused us a little too early.”
“She wasn’t going to give us more. Besides, she doesn’t know any more,” he said.
“You don’t know that.”
Jackson wasn’t about to continue down this road. “If Belinda requested time off from the bank, I think she would have canceled and rescheduled her visit with Shannon.”
“When was her appointment?”
“Last Friday. Which means, she knew she wouldn’t be around when she asked for the time off. So, again, it doesn’t make sense for her to blow off the appointment.” Jackson got in the Jeep and grabbed the piece of paper he’d left on the dashboard.
“I don’t know. A lot of people forget about doctor appointments or feel guilty about canceling, so they just don’t go.”
“Maybe.” He pulled his iPad from the backseat, opened email, and sent the license plate number to a cop friend.
“What are you doing?” Katie fired up the Jeep. It sputtered, then let out a loud roar as she pressed on the gas.
“You need a new muffler,” he said.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Having a friend check a license plate number.” He folded the iPad case closed and returned it to the backseat. “I meant to do it earlier. A car’s been at the top of my driveway for three mornings in a row.”
“That’s weird,” Katie said. “Why do you think it’s suspicious, other than it not being a safe place to park?”
“Have you ever known me to be anything but guarded?” he said. Shannon was most likely right about it being someone looking into renting one of the cottages. “I’ve got a weird vibe about this Belinda Montgomery case.”
“So do I.” Katie got back onto the Northway, headed toward Lake George. “I suspect Ms. Timms is more of a gossip, so I think we can push her if we have to.”
“I agree.” Jackson grabbed hold of the holy-shit bar. “When are you going to learn this Jeep is not a race car?”
“The moment you stop caring about decorating.”
“Har, har,” he said, glancing at the speedometer. “Geez, lucky for you, your boyfriend is an assistant district attorney.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said with venom. “Janice said they had a fight on Friday about how Belinda hadn’t cleaned up her dirty dishes. But, seriously, that’s not a reason to disappear for days without a word.”
“Which is why I think she fell off the wagon.”
“You really need to start giving people the benefit of the doubt,” Katie said. “But in this case, I have to agree. Which is why you need to talk to that doctor neighbor of yours.”
“She’s not going to be able to give us any insight.” Jackson continued gripping the bar above his head as Katie weaved in and out of traffic. “Seriously, you’re going to get a ticket.”
She pointed to the sticker on her windshield. “I have friends in high places, and you need to use that charm you swear you have on Shannon. We need to know where to look. Janice didn’t know Belinda until after rehab, so she doesn’t know much about her past. I’m sure her shrink will know more.”
“She’s not a shrink; she’s a therapist.”
“Whatever. Just promise me you will talk to her.”
“I will, but I’m going to be honest with her about why I want to know.” And he’d apologize, too.
Katie shook her head. “Then she’s going to clam up on us, protecting her client.”
“Ah, ye of little faith. You underestimate my ability to charm women.”
Katie laughed. Loudly. “You do know that most women think you’re gay after spending about five minutes with you, right? Really, you shouldn’t let on all you know about decorating and fashion and all that girly stuff. We’re never going to get you a woman.”
It was his turn to laugh, and he tossed in a flick of his hair for good measure. “First, I’ve already landed one woman.”
“Who turned out to be a bitch.”
That cut his laugh short. “This, coming from a woman who doesn’t even own a dress, much less a decent pair of slacks. Seriously, no wonder you’re still single.”
“Oh, bite me.”
“Nice mouth.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, adjusting her baseball cap as she slowed down to go through the EZPass lane. “Just talk to the good old doctor. I’m going to drop you off at the office and tell Jessica she needs to file an official missing person’s case. At least that way, I can get some of our friends down there to help me out with some intel.”
“Good tax dollars at work. Get the PI to do all the grunt labor.”
“Hey, we’re getting paid on this one, so bite your tongue.”
“True,” he said just as they pulled into the office parking lot, situated behind the main drag of Lake George and right behind Gunners, a local watering hole. It was a quiet town, and most of their work was little things: divorce cases, runaway teens. Every once in a while, they got a case from Saratoga—like this one. Or from Albany. But for the most part, his life was quiet and calm.
Just the way he wanted it.

Thank you for reading this short excerpt from Dark Legacy.
Excerpt. ©Jen Talty. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Giveaway: 5 ebook copies of DARK LEGACY

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and post a comment to this Q: What did you think of the excerpt spotlighted here? Leave a comment with your thoughts on the book…

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 
 

Meet the Author:

Jen Talty is the USA Today Bestselling Author of Contemporary Romance, Romantic Suspense, and Paranormal Romance. In the fall of 2020, her short story was selected and featured in a 1001 Dark Nights Anthology. She is currently contracted to write in the With Me in Seattle series by Kristen Proby with Lady Boss Press, as well as Susan Stoker’s Special Forces: Operation Alpha and Elle James’s Brotherhood Protectors.

Regardless of the genre, her goal is to take you on a ride that will leave you floating under the sun with warmth in your heart. She writes stories about broken heroes and heroines who aren’t necessarily looking for romance, but in the end, they find the kind of love books are written about :).
She first started writing while carting her kids to one hockey rink after the other, averaging 170 games per year between 3 kids in 2 countries and 5 states. Her first book, IN TWO WEEKS was originally published in 2007. In 2010 she helped form a publishing company (Cool Gus Publishing) with NY Times Bestselling Author Bob Mayer where she ran the technical side of the business through 2016.

Jen is currently enjoying the next phase of her life…the empty nester! She and her husband reside in Jupiter, Florida.
Grab a glass of vino, kick back, relax, and let the romance roll in…
 
AUTHOR LINKS:
Website: https://jentalty.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJenTalty/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JenTalty
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jen_talty/
Newsletter: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/od3icplesg
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2K16VK3
Amazon: https://amzn.to/36nnKq2
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jen-talty
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheTaltyCrew