Reluctant Heiress: A Twisty Romantic Suspense: The Mystery of the Brisand Family, #1

By Jessica Jones

In this thrilling small-town adventure, Dulcie Brisand knows her family has secrets, but they were buried long ago… until they suddenly refuse to stay that way. Now, she's on the run and must face hidden conspiracies as she attempts to save herself and those she loves.

 

The fallout from a decades-old mystery threatens to tear her world apart, forcing her to seek protection from a powerful figure in the dangerous criminal underworld, who just happens to be the father she's never known. Struggling to make sense of the truth, she and her unexpected allies confront the past and unknown enemies who are determined to either control her life or end it.

 

With the help of the handsome but rough-around-the-edges Deacon Hawkins, she fights against the criminal plot endangering and displacing everyone she holds dear, while waiting for the next shoe to drop and the next enemy to surface.

 

Follow Dulcie on a journey full of twists and turns as threats lurk around every corner culminating in an explosive ending leaving her unsure of who she can trust.

 

Perfect for fans of A.J. Rivers and Natasha Knight.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lone Oak Publishing, LLC
• Release date: May 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215578209

Book preview

Prologue

Peculiar.

That would be the word Dulcie Brisand would use to describe her parents and her childhood. Common as it was for children to think their parents were a bit strange, hers took it to an entirely new level. They were truly peculiar.

Dulcie couldn’t comprehend how they didn’t struggle financially like most did in their small town of Dulsan, Tennessee. Though they were just your average blue-collar people, their bank accounts overflowed. Some might say that her father wasn't the best mechanic and had trouble fixing anything around the house, nor was her hairstylist mother adept at styling her own hair. Yet, somehow, these two managed to accumulate loads of money.

They also didn’t seem to have close relatives. While her friends at school would talk about visiting with the cousins at the family reunion or going to Grandma’s house at Christmas, Dulcie’s family did none of those things. It was just the three of them. She was aware her father had relatives in Nashville, but they never visited, even though it was less than a two-hour drive.

Her parents were super-secretive. In the homes of Dulcie’s friends, the parents didn’t allow the kids to look in certain closets or drawers before Christmases or birthdays because those were the places where their mothers hid presents. There were other small areas of the house too, that were off limits at certain times of year. Perhaps there was a couch they weren’t supposed to sit on while eating something messy or drinking a beverage which might leave a stain.

In Dulcie’s home, however, a back hallway led to two, maybe three rooms, though she couldn’t know for sure. Her parents had permanently locked them up and banned them as off-limits. She never saw her parents go into those rooms, but Dulcie would occasionally hear noises coming from them.

Sometimes she and her parents would sit together, perhaps at the dinner table, when Dulcie would hear sounds which she knew were coming from those forbidden rooms. Someone was definitely back there, but neither of her parents paid attention to the sounds. She couldn’t believe it. How could they not have heard it? Had they heard it and were ignoring it, or had she imagined it? When Dulcie concluded she was not crazy, she decided that her parents absolutely were.

One day when she was about fifteen years-old, Dulcie faked being sick so she could skip school. While her parents were at work, she rifled through all the papers she could find in the basement, the attic, the closets, and even the little desk her mother used for paperwork and correspondence. She wasn’t looking for anything specific and wasn’t trying to be intrusive. She was simply bored.

A forbidden thought took hold of her, and before she knew it, she was picking the lock on the door to the first door in the hallway. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to discover what her parents had been hiding. Surprising even herself, she heard a clicking sound in the lock as she jimmied it with only a hairpin.

A moment later, the door was open. She was certain she was experiencing the same excitement as those old Egyptologists opening King Tut’s tomb. She had just studied ancient Egypt in history class, so it was fresh in her mind. Calling upon the spirits of daring explorers of the past, she took a breath and stepped inside.

Later the same night, after surviving the shock of what that room held, she thought how odd it was that her mother was angrier than her father had been about her breaking into the room. Her mother screamed at her about invading her privacy, which Dulcie found ironic, as this same woman was guilty of finding and reading her diary when she was eight years old.

In contrast, her father was calm. After all, he had been the one to teach Dulcie how to pick locks. Later, she would often wonder if he expected, even hoped, for her to break into that room and discover the truth.

Staring into the darkness of the room and fearing whoever had been making the noises she’d heard; it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Peering further, she saw someone had neatly made the bed with sheets and blankets that Dulcie had never seen before. The bedside table held a lamp, a Bible, and a clock showing the current time. A glance into the small bathroom revealed a man’s shaving kit by the sink, a few breath mints, and a bottle of aftershave which she knew her father did not use. The linen closet held towels, toiletries, a bathrobe, and a pair of slippers. Obviously, someone used the room with some regularity.

A desk, not unlike the one her mother used for correspondence and bill-paying tasks, sat in the corner of the tiny room. Dulcie couldn’t imagine anyone doing much work or reading in that windowless room, with its one lamp and overhead light being the only sources of illumination. Despite this, there were papers neatly stacked on the desk and a quick search of the drawers produced newspaper clippings of her school accomplishments, files displaying pictures of her throughout the years, and some letters still in envelopes.

She sat carefully so she wouldn’t disturb the bedclothes. She gently spread the papers in front of her and uncovered the truth. Her parents were, in fact, not her parents after all. Her real father was one of the mysterious Nashville relatives that they never visited or discussed.

She recognized the man as he was on the news recently. He was under investigation for racketeering and money laundering. She then also discovered the existence of her two older brothers: one apparently also a criminal, and the other a college student.

She spent all afternoon there, reading and re-reading the documents she found. Before she expected her ‘parents’ to be home, she gathered up all the papers to return them. She wasn’t sure how or when she wanted to confront them with this information, so she wanted to cover her tracks well.

Before she placed the documents back in the desk, something about the drawer drew her attention. She thought it looked… odd. She ran her fingers along the sides and bottom of the drawer and discovered a section which was not completely lined up with the rest.

She gently pressed down on one corner, and the entire foundation of the drawer rose as if on a spring. A false bottom! Carefully removing the dislodged piece of wood, she could see another file folder underneath. Easing the folder from its hiding spot, she wondered what could call for so much secrecy, considering all the rest she had discovered that day.

Her hands trembled as she thumbed through the faded newspaper clippings inside. The article reported the death of a woman. A woman who looked just like her. Though the woman in the picture styled her hair differently, and she was obviously an adult, the resemblance was remarkable. The same red hair, the same arch of the eyebrows, and bend of the nose.

The next article gave an update on the investigation, saying the police suspected foul play had caused the accident that killed her. The third article explained the police had determined it was definitely not an accident at all, and that it was now being examined as a murder scene. There were no other clippings to explain anything else.

Her eyes focused on the date on the top of the clipping, and she shook her head in disbelief. The woman had died mere months after Dulcie was born. Underneath the clippings were full-color pictures of the woman. The woman looked alive, joyful, and content. The last picture was of the woman’s warm and smiling face as she looked lovingly at the tiny, sleeping, red-headed baby girl in her arms. She flipped the picture over to find someone had written ‘Ellie and Dulcie’ on the back.

Dulcie sank to the floor with the realization that she was the baby in the picture and the woman had been her mother.

And her mother had been murdered.

Chapter 1

Dulcie

Early October in middle Tennessee means the temperature could either be 30 degrees or 80, maybe both on the same day. Some people said if you didn’t like the weather, stick around for a day or so... it would change. That evening, it was chilly enough for me to wear my sweater, but it wasn’t so cold that the guy following me needed the overcoat he was wearing. The sunglasses weren’t quite as out of place as the sun was still bright. But if he was trying to be inconspicuous, he was doing a lousy job.

I didn’t need a Spidey Sense to tell that he was following me, but he was trying to keep it a secret. That time, anyway. When he was mulling around outside the Piggly Wiggly the day before, I almost didn’t notice him. I forced myself to look for him everywhere since he started tailing me a couple of days prior. Before the grocery store, he was at the pumps on the other side of the store when I was getting gas on Tuesday morning, and he was outside the school when I left work that afternoon. My friend Shelby, who was also a teacher, noticed him that day, too. She said her brother Jason had met him at the garage where he worked. The guy had been traveling through town, taking the scenic route to Nashville, when his car blew a gasket. The garage where Jason worked was the first one into Dulsan from the highway. According to Shelby, it would take a while to repair, because the whole head needed to be replaced, and if that didn’t work, it would need a brand-new engine. Not that I knew what any of that meant, but at least someone knew who he was. The parts could take a week or longer to arrive, and another couple of days to replace the head gasket. If that worked, and there was no guarantee that it would, he’d be on his way. If it didn’t, well, he’d be our little guest in Dulsan until the new engine arrived and could be replaced. All that information was fine and good, but nothing explained why he was following me all over town. He was cute, though, and I considered introducing myself the next time I saw him.

Still, having someone follow me around didn’t sit well with me. If he was interested in taking me to dinner while he was in town, that would be fine. Otherwise, I needed to proceed cautiously. I tried changing my routine to avoid him. Instead of going straight home, I stopped by the Dulsan Public Library, as the selection there was much better than the middle school where I taught. I was staying home for fall break, so I wanted to get a few books to occupy my mind next week. I had some projects at home to do, but I mostly wanted to read. The idea of spending an entire week at home, with nothing but my books to keep me company, brought a smile to my face.

Because there weren’t many patrons in the library that evening, I saw the new guy right away. Running into him over and over should’ve scared me, but it didn’t. He didn’t give me stalker vibes, but I wondered for the umpteenth time why he was following me, and I promised myself to be diligent, so he didn’t catch me off guard.

He was making his way to the circulation desk when I noticed he wasn’t watching me, because a suspicious man lurking in the children’s library drew his attention. He was short, stocky, and didn't look like any dad from around Dulsan. And he wasn’t carrying any books, all of which made it clear that he didn’t belong in the children’s section. I didn’t get very close, but even from my vantage point, I could see long, jagged scars on his face. He looked deadly. Not like the one who’d been following me for days. The new guy was more dangerous. Menacing.

Mrs. Dade, the children’s librarian who was as old as the building itself, noticed him too and, by the look on her face, he worried her. I waved and smiled on my way toward her, but she didn’t see me. Her eyes were trained on the guy with the scars.

The new stranger made his way to the exit, pausing to glance back at the other guy. There was an odd but tense familiarity between the two men, and my uneasy feeling began to abate as soon as the scary guy slipped out.

The same thing must have happened with her, because a moment later, Mrs. Dade seemed to regain her composure and motioned me to her, perhaps feeling emboldened once the other guy left. As I approached, she surreptitiously pointed her bony finger at my regular guy. I think that young man is watching you, dear. He’s quite handsome. I’ll check his library card for a phone number if you’d like. She had a devilish smile and never took her eyes off my good-looking stranger.

Mrs. Dade, as much as Mama wants grandbabies, I know she wouldn’t want you to go to Librarian Prison just to get me a date. Who knows what they’re reading in there?

Oh, honey, she smiled even wider, don’t worry about that. Remember, I order the books here at the library. I’ll bring a few of those new erotica books we just got in.

In the few minutes Mrs. Dade and I talked, the other guy disappeared, too. I left not long after. All I wanted to do was get home and put the whole weird incident behind me.

I was halfway expecting to see one or both of them on my way home that night, but I didn’t. No one was hiding outside of my house waiting to ambush me either, at least, no one I could see. I locked my doors just the same.

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Callie wasn’t at the bank when I got there after work the next day, but I wasn’t expecting her to be. She was always late. Luckily, the bank didn’t close until 6:00 PM on Fridays, so when I saw her car pull into the parking lot, I was relieved. My nerves were still on edge from the encounter with the scary dude at the library the night before.

Glad you made it! You had me worried. I loved Callie, and we’d been best friends since we were kids, but there were times she irritated me. Other times, I wouldn’t trade her for all the oil in Texas.

Yes, Dulcie, I know. You need me to pay back the $50 you lent to me the other day, or you won’t have cell service next week. She had such an amazing ability to become irritated with me even when she was the one in the wrong. You know, I get you don’t want to ask Mr. C and Ms. Willa for a loan, but honestly! Why don’t you just call that rich daddy of yours in Nashville and have him send you some money? I think he owes you that much!

Shh! Keep your voice down. Callie always thought she was whispering, but she wasn’t. People are staring! Some of Mama’s church lady friends work here, and I don’t want that to get back to her.

Oh, let ‘em stare, honey. While you have him on the phone, maybe you can get him to put some of these old busybodies out of their misery.

I tried not to giggle, especially when a small woman in the line next to us said, Now, Callie, dear. Most of these folks know you’re just joking, but I hardly think that kind of talk is appropriate with all these killings going on around town just now. It’s just awful to hear about it, don’t you think?

Callie hadn’t noticed her great aunt Teresa standing so close. All she could do was drop her head and say, Yes, ma’am. Luckily, Aunt Teresa had already begun talking to the teller when Callie said just barely under her breath, And you’ll be the first to go, you old Biddy!

When Callie heard me gasp, she turned in confusion and said, Dulcie, I was only kidding. You know I wouldn’t really want Aunt Teresa to be hurt. Noticing the direction of my gaze, she said, "You aren’t listening to me at all, and I don’t blame you. Who is that? And when did he get here?"

You should know him better than I do. Jason’s been working on his car for a week.

Like I pay attention to Jason’s mechanic stuff! Dulcie, please. She grinned and said, He’s cute.

You think he’s cute? I hadn’t really noticed. I lied. I had absolutely noticed he was cute, though I wasn’t sure that would be the word I’d use to describe him. Strong. Handsome. Intriguing. Exciting. Those were much more proper and accurate descriptions.

Wait, is he the guy who’s been following you around all week? You didn’t tell me he was hot. The way you were acting, I thought he must be awful. Go talk to him.

No way! What if he’s the guy killing all these people?

He’s been here a week. The killings started six months ago.

I thought you said you didn’t pay attention to things that happen at Jason’s garage.

Ignoring my quip, she said, If you won’t go talk to him, I will.

I was certain my face was red, fearing that he’d heard her. No, Callie! Please don’t. Once again, luck was on my side, because it was Callie’s turn at the teller.

When we finished our business, I thought maybe I would go talk to him. At least I’d finally be able to see what he wanted. My courage waned when I saw him looking toward the back of the building at the same creep from the library the night before. My God, they looked as if they could kill each other, right there in the bank. Their stares chilled me to the bone.

Suddenly, a woman in the teller line looking at her phone said, Oh, God! There’s been another murder! A moment of panic and confusion followed with what seemed like a million questions being thrown out, but no one was answering them. We all got out our phones, reading about the next tragic incident, which was quickly becoming the talk of the town.

When I looked up from my phone toward the direction of the men just a few minutes before, they were both gone. My Spidey Sense was going into overdrive.

Chapter 2

Deacon

Ihadn’t expected to see Buck, Cutter, and Ace so soon again. I figured they’d be around at some point, because, well; they were always around to give me trouble. I dreaded telling J.R. He wouldn’t be happy about their sudden appearance.

Dulsan was the antithesis of what most people would call a city. It was a place where rural reigned supreme, even in the downtown area. Case in point: the alley behind the library led to a large bean field. A freaking bean field in the middle of the town.

The sun was setting, and I couldn’t tell which way they went. Surely, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to escape through someone’s bean field. I headed west toward the target’s house and tried to think of a way to explain my mistakes to the boss. He’d have my head if he knew how close I was, but hadn’t yet finished the job.

The field was dry. Parched, actually. Just looking at those dried up vines made me thirsty. I wasn’t sure if they were beans or peas, as it had been a while since I had been in a garden. I broke a pod from the plant and ran my finger down the side of the pod to open it. Black-eyed peas. My favorite.

I swung my backpack in front of me and dug around inside it, hoping I had put a bottle of water in there that morning. My fingertips brushed something damp at the bottom of the bag as my eyes followed the path in the vines. I felt a sense of simultaneous relief and disbelief. Relief because the dampness in my bag proved to be condensation from the now-warm water bottle, and I took a gulp. Disbelief because they were stupid enough to have run through the field.

The trampled vines made a path big enough for one crazy man and two overgrown idiots.

It appeared they zigzagged twice, trying to get out of the field. At least they were smart enough to stay low to the ground so no one would see them from the road. Luckily for me, their lowered centers of gravity pressed the vines enough that I found them easily. Another ten minutes and it would’ve been too dark for me to follow without my flashlight. There they were. Sitting on a couple of benches in front of a small garden shed. Had they heard me after all and were waiting for me?

I thought I smelled something nasty, I said before they saw me. They jumped, reaching for their sidearms, and I questioned my wisdom about sneaking up on them. I kept my approach to the offense to avoid a show of weakness. "At first, I figured it