How Secrets Die by Marta Perry
Series: Watcher in the Dark (# 3)
Release Date: June 28, 2016
Publisher: HQN
Pages: 385
Source: book provided by NetGalley for review
A hard-hitting reporter, Kate Beaumont unearths the deepest lies and brings harsh truths to light, but the story that lures her to the gentle town of Laurel Ridge, Pennsylvania, is closer to her heart than anyone knows. The details of her half brother’s sudden death have never made sense. She owes him justice, yet the one man who can help her is the stubborn sheriff she can’t stand.
Protecting his town is Mac Whiting’s top priority. Everything else, including pacifying a beautiful crusader on a mission best left resting in peace, is secondary. But as Kate’s search embeds her in his world and attracts a skilled criminal, she needs Mac’s protection. Drawn together by deadly secrets, they must find a way to trust each other before a killer silences them both.
Review: At first I was rather confused reading this book and then realized it is the third in the series. As I read more it started to make sense and just made me want to read the first two. Perry has a way with creating her characters that get under your skin and it was no different with this book.
I couldn’t read fast enough because I wanted to know what was going on and how everything happened. I was totally surprised when all my questions were answered. I was completely blown away and surprised at the twists and turns the story took.
I wasn’t a huge fan of Mac in the beginning. He did start to grow on me and I understand why he was the way he was. His motives and intentions were pure just the execution of what he wanted was a bit flawed and misguided.
Kate was a lovely character. I love her loyalty to her dead brother and wanting answers to what exactly happened to him. She was full of spunk and attitude. My favorite kind of character.
I like that there was an equal amount of mystery and romance. One didn’t overshadow the other. I really want to go out and read the first two novels as soon as I can.
It was quiet—almost too quiet. She’d already noticed that Laurel Ridge seemed to close down quickly after about six o’clock. Lights reflected from cars moving along Main Street, but otherwise, all was dark and still.
The penlight produced a narrow tunnel of illumination along which she walked. When she reached the step she paused, fumbling for the key and then trying to keep the light focused on the lock while she opened it.
But the instant she put her key in the lock, she realized it hadn’t been needed. The front door to the cottage was unlocked, swinging open a few inches at the slight touch.
Alarm flared. She stepped back, cautious as a cat, making no sound, and reached for her cell phone. But even before her questing fingers located it in her bag, she paused. Mac was at the fire scene, and he’d told her how small his force was. It she dialed 911, who would she get? One of the part-timers he’d mentioned, who had no idea who she was?
She eyed the door. Nothing moved. She couldn’t hear anything, not from the cottage. But there was a sound—so faint it was on the very edge of her hearing. A rustling noise, as if something disturbed the thick bushes along the property line.
If she took the penlight off the cottage door, someone might come out. But it was surely more important to know if someone was already here with her. A quick glance at the bed-and-breakfast was enough to tell her that Mrs. Anderson wasn’t home. There was no point in running to her door.
The sound came again, louder this time. She tried to tell herself it was a stray cat or a night bird, but she wasn’t convinced. Her fingers closed over the phone with sudden decision. She’d call Mac directly, no matter where he was. She’d rather feel foolish for raising a false alarm than fail to call when there was danger.
But before she’d even pulled the phone free, she heard it again—unmistakable this time. Someone was there, behind her. She darted a glance back to see a dark figure emerge from the shadows. It—he—whatever—was between her and the street. That left only the cottage. Gripping the phone in one hand and her keys with the other, she bolted for the cottage door.
Footsteps came behind her, with no attempt to conceal them now. Kate dashed up the two steps to the door, plunged inside and slammed it shut just as something reached toward it. She flicked the dead bolt, then backed up a couple of steps, staring toward the door.
Not that she could see much. She’d been sure she’d left the small lamp on the end table turned on, but it wasn’t on now. Fumbling with the penlight, Kate focused its beam on the door.
A cold hand seemed to grip her throat as the knob turned slowly—first one direction and then the other. She could almost feel the pressure against the door as she imagined a dark-clothed figure pushing against it.
Marta Perry realized she wanted to be a writer at age eight, when she read her first Nancy Drew novel. A lifetime spent in rural Pennsylvania and her own Pennsylvania Dutch roots led Marta to the books she writes now about the Amish. When she’s not writing, Marta is active in the life of her church and enjoys traveling and spending time with her three children and six beautiful grandchildren.
