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Just Past Midnight
Just Past Midnight

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Just Past Midnight

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Praise for

AMANDA STEVENS

“Breathless, chilling and unforgettable. When you crack open an Amanda Stevens book, prepare to be thrilled.”

—USA TODAY bestselling author Patricia Kay

“Once again Ms. Stevens blends just the right amount of suspense, conflict, love and hope.”

—Romantic Times on The Tempted

“Amanda Stevens pens a masterfully suspenseful tale with great characters readers will love, hot passion and nail-biting intrigue.”

—Romantic Times on His Mysterious Ways

AMANDA STEVENS

The author of over thirty novels, Amanda Stevens is the recipient of Career Achievement awards in both Romantic Mystery and Romantic Suspense from Romantic Times magazine. She has been nominated for numerous Reviewers’ Choice awards and has been a RITA® Award finalist in the Romantic Suspense category. She resides in Houston, Texas.

Just Past Midnight

Amanda Stevens

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

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

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

Allentown, Texas

IT WAS JUST PAST MIDNIGHT. Danielle Williams lay wide awake, watching the distant flicker of lightning outside her window as the minutes ticked away on her bedside clock. If she didn’t leave soon, she’d never make it back before the storm hit.

But the delay couldn’t be helped. Her parents had waited up for her brother, Nathan, who’d promised to be in hours ago for a long, heart-to-heart about his future. And then when he’d finally dragged himself home, he’d been drinking. The ensuing confrontation had ended as it always did, with her father in a rant, her mother in tears, and her brother moody and defiant as he stomped up the stairs and slammed the door to his room.

All was finally quiet now, except for the occasional creak and groan as the old farmhouse settled. Nathan’s bedroom was just across the hall. He’d probably be up for hours, but Dani knew that he’d have his headphones on and wouldn’t hear a thing when she slipped out. He didn’t even acknowledge their mother’s knock when she came upstairs a few minutes later to make the first overture. Nathan ignored her, as usual, and after a slight hesitation, the soft knock sounded on Dani’s door.

She ignored it, too, which wasn’t like her. Normally, she tried to play the role of peacemaker in the family. Tried to provide a calm spot in the storm where her mother could come to seek refuge from her husband’s temper and her son’s downward spiral. Tonight, though, Dani had needs of her own, and so she pretended to sleep even when her mother called out her name.

At the plaintive note in her mother’s voice, guilt tore at Dani, but she remained steadfast. Tonight was just too important. She couldn’t get sidetracked with family issues.

Her stomach in knots, she kept her eyes closed and her breathing even until she heard her mother’s footsteps going back down the stairs. She waited until her parents’ voices faded behind their closed door. Then, throwing off the covers, she rose, fully dressed, to steal across the room to the window.

Climbing onto the wood-shingle roof, she paused to gain her balance before she crept to the edge. Then she lowered herself to the top of the fence, and from there she dropped six feet to the ground, landing on her feet with a soft thud.

She’d performed that same maneuver countless times, but never after dark and never to slip out of the house without her parents’ knowledge or permission. Nathan did. Or he used to. Now he just came and went as he pleased, did as he pleased, and their father’s threats of kicking him out of the house didn’t seem to faze him. Maybe because he knew that’s all they were—threats. Their mother, usually so submissive and conciliatory, wouldn’t stand for anything more. She had a blind spot when it came to Nathan.

Dani didn’t understand what had happened to her brother. At nineteen, he was two years older than she, and someone she’d looked up to—until six months ago when he’d dropped out of college without warning. He’d come back home a changed person—in appearance and personality. He’d let his hair grow, wore unkempt clothing, and played music in his room twenty-four hours a day—obscure bands that Dani hadn’t heard of.

He was so different from the brother she’d said goodbye to six months ago that it was like having a stranger in the house. He refused to look for a job, refused to go back to school, refused to even talk about his future. He spent his days sleeping, his nights partying—and the drinking…well, Dani suspected that was the least of his vices.

She missed the old Nathan. Ever since her parents adopted him ten years ago, he’d been the doting, protective older brother. Despite the friction that had always existed between him and their father, Nathan had been someone Dani could count on, confide in. Now she couldn’t even tell him about…tonight.

Nowadays, he was surly and morose and angry to the point of violence. His rage scared Dani because it seemed to be directed at her. She didn’t understand that, either. She didn’t understand what she’d done to make him hate her so. She didn’t understand what was happening to her family.

Maybe that was why the letters were so important to her.

The letters…from her secret admirer.

At the very thought of them, Dani shivered in nervous anticipation. The letters had started coming six months ago, just after Nathan moved back home. Just after the once peaceful household had erupted in turmoil. Dani sometimes wondered if that was the sender’s intent: to give her something to cling to—just as she tried to do with her mother—when her whole world seemed to be falling apart.

And the letters did help. They provided a little whimsy in an otherwise turbulent existence. Dani would find them in the most unexpected places. Slipped inside her favorite book at the library or propped beneath the old elm tree down by the lake where she sometimes went to study.

The mysterious missives were like something she might read about in a book or see in a movie, and they made her feel special. Sometimes her admirer quoted lines of poetry. Other times he merely told her in flowery, romantic prose how beautiful she’d looked on a particular day. Occasionally, he spritzed the letters with her favorite perfume. And always he signed them: your One and Only.

Whoever he was, he knew her intimately—her favorite books, her favorite music, even the shade of lipstick she preferred. And yet Dani didn’t have a clue to his identity.

And before she could figure it out, the letters had stopped coming. Abruptly. No hint of why her admirer had moved on. No sign that he’d become disillusioned with her. The letters had simply ceased, but for weeks, Dani continued to wonder about them, watch for them. Then she’d gotten so caught up in her senior year of high school that she’d forgotten all about them.

She had a part-time job at the mall, which kept her busy on weekends, and she spent most of her free time studying in order to keep up her grades so that she might earn a scholarship. Money had always been tight—for almost everyone in the rural, East Texas community—and even more so now for Dani’s family because her father had recently been laid off. If she didn’t get a scholarship or a grant, she’d have to go to a state college rather than to Drury University, a private school in northern Connecticut that had one of the best journalism programs in the country.

Dani had big dreams for the future, and she didn’t want to give them up because of finances. If she could win the Belmont Award, given to the top senior at her school each year, all her problems would be solved, but unfortunately, she didn’t see that happening. Her grades were excellent, her extracurricular activities and community service impressive, but for all her hard work, for all her drive and determination, she wasn’t the top student. Not anymore. That honor went to Paul Ryann.

He and his family had moved to Allentown at the start of the school year, and it hadn’t taken long for students and teachers alike to recognize his brilliance. He was a shoo-in for valedictorian, which meant he’d automatically be the recipient of the Belmont, although he certainly didn’t need it. His family was rich.

They’d even purchased Belmont House from the Althea Belmont Foundation and were in the midst of refurbishing the grand old Victorian—the oldest home in Allentown—to its original splendor. After years of neglect and disrepair, the mansion now gleamed like a dazzling, antique jewel on the bluff overlooking the water.

Sometimes Dani would stand on her side of the lake, admiring the elegant filigree work and the formal gardens, and she’d wonder what it would be like to live in such a place. To have servants at her beck and call, expensive cars in the garage, closets full of designer clothes. She wondered what it would be like to go wherever she wanted when she wanted and not have to answer to anyone but herself.

Dani could hardly imagine a life like that, but she didn’t resent Paul for his good fortune. How could she, when he was so sweet? So quiet and pensive and almost painfully shy.

And so obviously in love with her.

Dani didn’t know why she hadn’t seen it before. Paul Ryann was her secret admirer. He was the one who had sent her all those letters, the one who had gone out of his way to make her feel special. Who else could it be? No one else she knew could quote such beautiful lines of poetry, much less would take the time to read all her favorite books and listen to her favorite music.

It all made sense to her now. The letters had stopped once she’d befriended Paul because he no longer felt the need to keep his feelings secret.

And now, after nearly six months, he’d sent her another letter. Dani had found it slipped inside her purse that afternoon when she’d left for work.

Meet me by the lake at midnight. I’ll be waiting underneath your favorite tree. All will be revealed to you then. My face, my soul, the depths of my affection. Tonight I’ll give you…the ultimate gift.

It was signed as all the others had been: your One and Only.

The ultimate gift, of course, had to be his identity. He had no idea that she’d already guessed who he was. And since he lived right across the lake, it made sense he’d want to meet there. So many things made perfect sense now.

As Dani slipped through the woods, her stomach tightened in apprehension. What if she was wrong? What if Paul wasn’t her secret admirer? What if this was some sort of trick?

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but now Dani barely noticed the coming storm. She was so lost in thought that the smell of smoke caught her completely by surprise.

A bonfire? she wondered. No, no, too much smoke for that.

The acrid scent stung her nose and made her eyes water, and as she neared the lake, she caught glimpses of a reddish glow through the trees. It was only then that she began to panic. Someone’s house was on fire!

She broke into a run. The smoke was so thick now that it filled her lungs and made her gasp for breath. She covered her nose and mouth with her shirt as she raced toward the water. A few minutes later, she emerged from the woods and came to a dead stop, her eyes widening in terror.

Across the lake, Belmont House was completely engulfed in flames. The fiery reflection wavered on the surface of the water, making the whole tragic tableau seem surreal, but Dani knew it was no dream. Paul Ryann’s house was burning to the ground before her very eyes.

The blaze had already crawled up the sides of the mansion and now licked across the roof. Through the billowing smoke, Dani could see the inferno spreading to the interior, and then, as she watched in horror, she saw someone at an upstairs window.

Paul! He was trapped inside the house!

Dani screamed his name, her voice echoing eerily across the orange water. Whether he heard her or whether it was only her imagination, she would never know. But the figure in the window seemed to reach out to her…

She had to help him. She had to get across the lake, find a phone, summon help, do something.

But for a moment, Dani stood paralyzed with indecision. Should she head across the bridge and try to get him out all by herself? Should she run back home and call 911? Either way would take so long….

And then she heard the sirens. Her legs went weak with relief even as a terrible little voice whispered in her head: It’s too late.

Over the roar of the fire, she heard car doors slamming and voices shouting across the water. Neighbors from nearby farmhouses were gathering on the front lawn, wondering, as she was, what to do. She had to get over there. She had to be there for Paul.

As she turned, something moved at the edge of the woods.

A shadow hidden among shadows.

Dani caught her breath in fear. Someone stood underneath the old elm tree, watching her.

“Who’s there?” she called anxiously.

At the sound of her voice, the shadow faded, and Dani realized that it, too, had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Some tiny hope conjuring an image that couldn’t possibly be real.

CHAPTER TWO

THE DEATH OF PAUL RYANN and his family made all the local broadcasts and was the biggest headline in the paper. Dani was unaware of the media, however, because she refused to leave her room. She sat staring out the window, her mind unable to accept what she knew in her heart to be true.

But the screams…she could still hear them. Not from the victims, but from friends and neighbors who’d watched in horror as the roof collapsed just seconds before the fire trucks arrived. And then hours later, the horror had turned to stunned disbelief as the three bodies, what was left of them, had been carried out of the rubble and loaded into an ambulance. An ambulance that would take Paul and his parents straight to the morgue.

Through her open window, Dani could still smell the smoke and the stench of singed flesh. The scent clung to her nostrils, her sinuses, her memory….

She put a hand to her mouth. Oh, God. She was going to be sick again.

Pressing her fist tightly to her lips, she willed away the nausea. It worked. She didn’t throw up this time, but the effort left her weak and trembling and wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed and pretend last night had never happened.

And it would be almost too easy to forget, because her memories were already growing hazy. She could barely even remember getting home. Someone had driven her, she thought. A neighbor who had solicitously walked her up the porch steps, knocked on the door and explained to her parents what had happened.

But rather than being shocked by news of the tragedy that had befallen one of his neighbors, her father had seemed far more outraged by Dani’s disobedience, perhaps because she’d never done anything remotely like sneaking out of the house before. He’d immediately launched into one of his tirades, but her mother had grabbed his arm to silence him. “Stop it, Carl! Can’t you see she’s in shock? We have to get her to bed.”

Dani had only a vague recollection of being led upstairs to her room, of her mother helping her to undress and climb into bed. Her mother had sat with her for a while, but then when Dani had pretended to drift off, she’d tiptoed out. Afterward, Dani had lain in bed for hours, trying not to think about what had happened. Why it had happened…

Sometime in the late afternoon, she’d finally managed to drag herself out of bed and dress, but even then, she didn’t go downstairs. Instead, she’d curled up in the chair at the window—and had been there ever since.

Over the lingering odor of smoke, Dani could still smell the rain. Sometime before dawn, the storm had hit, but by then it had been too late. The fire had already done its damage.

“So you’re finally up, huh?”

Dani turned with a start at the sound of her brother’s voice. She hadn’t heard him come in. Didn’t even know if he’d knocked. He stood now in the doorway, one bony shoulder propped against the frame, dingy blond hair falling across his face as he gave Dani a look she couldn’t quite decipher. She thought for a moment there might be a flicker of sympathy in his dark eyes, but it was only a trace. And maybe nothing more than her imagination, because in the next instant, the insolent mask was firmly back in place.

“There’s a cop downstairs. He wants to talk to you.”

“What about?” Dani asked in surprise.

Nathan shrugged. As usual, he was barefoot and disheveled. The faded T-shirt he had on looked as if he might have slept in it, more than once. “The fire, I guess. You were there, weren’t you?”

A premonition prickled the back of Dani’s neck. She stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her khaki skirt as she walked slowly toward the door.

Nathan backed into the hall to allow her to pass, and as she brushed by him, he said, “So you snuck out of the house last night. Guess you’re not little Miss Perfect, after all.”

The bitterness in his voice sent a shiver up Dani’s spine.

SHE TRIED TO STEADY her nerves as she walked down the stairs. There was nothing to be afraid of, she told herself. The authorities were probably talking to everyone who’d been at the scene last night.

The officer was waiting for her in the living room, and he rose when she entered. So courteous, Dani thought. Just like Paul. And then she had to blink back sudden tears.

He gave her an encouraging smile, which helped put her at ease. He had a familiar face. Dani had seen him around town a few times, and he’d even come into the store where she worked once or twice.

He wore his dark blond hair closely cropped, and his khaki uniform was pressed and spotless. Dani remembered thinking the first time she saw him that he had the darkest eyes she’d ever looked into. And such a nice smile. He’d flirted a little that day in the store, and Dani and the other girls had been flattered by the attention of a good-looking older man. Older to them, at least. He appeared to be in his early twenties, and Dani found his casual manner somehow reassuring.

But her calm fled the moment she caught a glimpse of her parents. Her father sat stony-faced and silent in his armchair by the window while her mother, a petite blonde, perched delicately on the edge of the sofa, hands clasped in her lap. Dani stared at her mother for a moment, hoping for a smile or some soft word of support, but instead Rena Williams studied her hands almost furiously, as if she were somehow afraid to meet her daughter’s gaze.

Her father said gruffly, “Canton here wants to ask you a few questions about last night.”

“Okay,” Dani murmured.

The man gave her a disarming smile as he motioned her toward an empty chair. “Have a seat, Dani. This won’t take long.”

She sat and pressed her knees together. They were trembling.

“I understand you were a witness to the fire at Belmont House last night. Enid Caldwell said she drove you home. Said you were pretty shaken up by what happened.”

Dani nodded. Her throat was so tight she was afraid she might not be able to speak.

“Your folks tell me you left the house without their knowledge. Mind telling me why?”

“I…went to meet a friend.”

“What friend?”

She swallowed. “Paul.”

Canton’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Paul Ryann?”

“Yes.”

“Why were you meeting him?”

“He asked me to.”

“Were you two in the habit of meeting so late at night?”

She shot her parents a glance. Her father glowered in response, but her mother’s gaze was still on her hands. What was her mother thinking? Was she upset? Disappointed in her daughter’s behavior? Guess you’re not little Miss Perfect, after all.

“Dani? Had you two met like that before?” the officer pressed.

“No. That was the first time.”

He paused. “What exactly was your relationship with Paul Ryann?”

“We’re friends.” Were friends. Dani suppressed a shudder as her mind conjured an image of that figure in the upstairs window. The way he’d reached out to her…

“Was Paul your boyfriend?”

His tone, so brusque and accusatory, frightened Dani. She said hesitantly, “We hadn’t been out or anything like that. But I knew he liked me.”

Something flashed in Canton’s gaze. “How did you know he liked you? Did he tell you?”

“He sent me letters.”

“Love letters?”

Dani glanced at her father again. He was still scowling, but now there was a glitter of suspicion in his eyes that chilled her blood.

She tore her gaze away. Something was very wrong here. Her heart began to pound in agitation.

“Did Paul Ryann send you love letters, Dani?”

“I guess you could call them that.”

“Then the two of you were a little more than friends, wouldn’t you say?”

“No. I mean…he never said anything. About liking me, I mean. He didn’t even sign the letters, but I knew they were from him.”

“Wait a minute.” The officer’s gaze sharpened. “Are you telling me you’ve been receiving anonymous letters? What made you think they were from Paul? A popular girl like you must have dozens of admirers.”

A dark chill seeped through Dani’s veins. “I…just knew.”

“You never asked him if he was the one who’d sent them?”

“No.”

“I’d like to see those letters,” Canton said after a moment. When Dani started to rise, he put up a hand to stop her. “You can get them when we’re finished. I still have a few more questions.”

Dani sat back down. Her knees were shaking so hard now she could hardly keep them together.

Canton leaned forward, his gaze relentless. Distrustful. How had she ever found his appearance and manner reassuring? Now his casual behavior seemed contrived, his smile calculated, and suddenly Dani didn’t trust him.

“It might interest you to know that I’ve spoken with a few of your classmates. It’s funny, but none of them mentioned anything about Paul’s infatuation with you. In fact, the way I heard it, you two were pretty fierce rivals. Before he and his family moved here, you were the top student at your school, weren’t you, Dani? You were in line to receive the Belmont Award, which is, as I understand it, worth thousands of dollars. A kid like Paul didn’t even need a scholarship, whereas to someone like you, the Belmont could mean the difference between attending a prestigious Ivy League university and a mediocre state school. A part of you had to resent that.”

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