Mona Murphy returns to Copper Springs to attend her grandfather's memorial service. His passing appeared ordinary enough--the official report stated he'd tripped and fallen down the staircase. Yet Preston Hitchcock, the insurance agent who'd sold a half a million-dollar policy to Mona's grandfather days before the old man died isn't convinced, especially when bloody towels are discovered in the backyard. And that's only the beginning. Who is the hit-and-run driver that attempts to plow Mona down? Why is her old boyfriend more ardent for her affections now than ever before? And why is Mona helpless to guard her heart from the devastating influence of Preston's practiced lady-killer smiles? Secrets Mona never knew existed in Copper Springs become exposed. But none is so revealing as the one she fights to hide--and the very one that might save her life.

His jaw hardening, he stepped nearer. Should I have respected those thugs privacy when they held you against your will? There was a No Trespassing sign nailed there, you know. There was? She gave an awkward shrug. Well, when he put it that way& I have reason to believe theres more thugs in there. He jerked a thumb toward the wall. You refuse to help me, though I earlier helped you? She hesitated, perplexed at his attitude. What could be inside that he wants so badly? And what thugs? Are they more of Davids poker buddies? Or maybe its David himself? Recalling the beating Davids so-called friends had given him the night before, she knew she couldnt take the risk of him perhaps being bound to a chair and having to suffer another thrashing. Nodding reluctantly, she said, Okay. Ill try. She pressed her ear against the warm bricks, closing her eyes. A mixture of different sounds reached her. I hear machines, she said to Preston, but the noises are combined and I cant make out what they are. And there are voices, mens voices, but the machines are so loud they drown out the words. Hesitating, she popped open her eyes. Thats a car engine. Someones leaving. Preston grabbed her hand, pulling her with him as he sped past a line of trashcans toward the buildings rear alley. Stumbling in her heels, she panted. Where are we going? What are you? She broke off her query when she caught sight of his Porsche. Yanking open the passenger door, Preston unceremoniously plopped her in the seat before he ran to the drivers side and dropped behind the wheel. He jabbed the key in the ignition, saying, Fasten your seat belt. This may be a hell of a ride.

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Reviewer: Victoria Lyn

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