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  Books by Fern Michaels

  Fear Thy Neighbor

  Santa Cruise

  No Way Out

  The Brightest Star

  Fearless

  Spirit of the Season

  Deep Harbor

  Fate & Fortune

  Sweet Vengeance

  Holly and Ivy

  Fancy Dancer

  No Safe Secret

  Wishes for Christmas

  About Face

  Perfect Match

  A Family Affair

  Forget Me Not

  The Blossom Sisters

  Balancing Act

  Tuesday’s Child

  Betrayal

  Southern Comfort

  To Taste the Wine

  Sins of the Flesh

  Sins of Omission

  Return to Sender

  Mr. and Miss Anonymous

  Up Close and Personal

  Fool Me Once

  Picture Perfect

  The Future Scrolls

  Kentucky Sunrise

  Kentucky Heat

  Kentucky Rich

  Plain Jane

  Charming Lily

  What You Wish For

  The Guest List

  Listen to Your Heart

  Celebration

  Yesterday

  Finders Keepers

  Annie’s Rainbow

  Sara’s Song

  Vegas Sunrise

  Vegas Heat

  Vegas Rich

  Whitefire

  Wish List

  Dear Emily

  Christmas at Timberwoods

  The Lost and Found Novels:

  Hidden

  The Sisterhood Novels:

  19 Yellow Moon Road

  Bitter Pill

  Truth and Justice

  Cut and Run

  Safe and Sound

  Need to Know

  Crash and Burn

  Point Blank

  In Plain Sight

  Eyes Only

  Kiss and Tell

  Blindsided

  Gotcha!

  Home Free

  Déjà Vu

  Cross Roads

  Game Over

  Deadly Deals

  Vanishing Act

  Razor Sharp

  Under the Radar

  Final Justice

  Collateral Damage

  Fast Track

  Hokus Pokus

  Hide and Seek

  Free Fall

  Lethal Justice

  Sweet Revenge

  The Jury

  Vendetta

  Payback

  Weekend Warriors

  The Men of the Sisterhood

  Novels:

  Hot Shot

  Truth or Dare

  High Stakes

  Fast and Loose

  Double Down

  The Godmothers Series:

  Far and Away

  Classified

  Breaking News

  Deadline

  Late Edition

  Exclusive

  The Scoop

  E-Book Exclusives:

  Desperate Measures

  Seasons of Her Life

  To Have and To Hold

  Serendipity

  Captive Innocence

  Captive Embraces

  Captive Passions

  Captive Secrets

  Captive Splendors

  Cinders to Satin

  For All Their Lives

  Texas Heat

  Texas Rich

  Texas Fury

  Texas Sunrise

  Anthologies:

  In Bloom

  Home Sweet Home

  A Snowy Little Christmas

  Coming Home for Christmas

  A Season to Celebrate

  Mistletoe Magic

  Winter Wishes

  The Most Wonderful Time

  When the Snow Falls

  Secret Santa

  A Winter Wonderland

  I’ll Be Home for Christmas

  Making Spirits Bright

  Holiday Magic

  Snow Angels

  Silver Bells

  Comfort and Joy

  Sugar and Spice

  Let it Snow

  A Gift of Joy

  Five Golden Rings

  Deck the Halls

  Jingle All the Way

  FERN MICHAELS

  #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTESELLING AUTHOR

  SECRETS

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  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

  Epilogue

  Teaser chapter

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2022 by Fern Michaels.

  Fern Michaels is a registered trademark of KAP 5, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  The Zebra logo Reg US Pat. & TM Off.

  First Kensington Hardcover Edition: June 2022

  First Mass Market Edition: September 2022

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-5234-0

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-5235-7 (ebook)

  Dear Diary,

  When I started this six months ago, I promised I would write something every day. So much for that idea. It’s been four months since the last entry. I guess I’ve been distracted, looking forward to graduation. Tomorrow is the big day. Can’t wait to get out of here. Don’t know what I am going to be doing, and I got a prob. K. and I have been getting very serious. He’s been hinting about us blowing “Casa Aluminum.” That’s what he calls it. It’s considered a mobile home, but we aren’t going anywhere. Not in this thing. He keeps reminding me. He says he has big ideas. A future with us. Wants to make money but doesn’t have a plan. He tells me to trust him. Do I have a choice? Truth is, I don’t know what I want. That’s a problem. I don’t even know what I like. I suppose I should have put more thought into it, but now here I am, done with high school, and I have no clue what to do next. My head hurts from thinking about it. I sure can’t ask Mom for advice. She’s rarely sober enough to string a sentence together. Forget Dad. He’s out driving his truck somewhere. Yep. Can’t wait to get out of Casa Aluminum. What to do . . . what to do
. . .

  But there is good news! We’ll have this double-wide to ourselves Saturday. I’m going to have my own graduation party for me and some friends. Mom is going to visit her sister, and Dad isn’t around. But then there’s my brother. With any luck, he’ll take his pizza to his room, pull on his headphones, and zone out. What else does a twelve-year-old do anyway? I’ll give him $20 to stay put and keep his mouth shut.

  Bought some aromatherapy candles to set the mood. Wow. This is the most I’ve written all year. Just in case I don’t get back to these pages, here’s to a super weekend, and congratulations to me!

  V.C.

  Chapter One

  The B.A.R.R.N.

  Bodman-Antiques-Retro-Restoration & Namaste Café

  Buncombe County, North Carolina

  Present day

  A delivery truck pulled up to the rear entrance of Cullen Bodman’s restoration workshop. He wasn’t expecting anything, but the driver handed him a printed version of the bill of lading and began to haul a crate with a dilapidated steamer trunk off the back of the van’s motorized lift. Cullen eyed the document. It was addressed to him, but there was no return label. He looked up at the deliveryman. “Do you know where this came from? There’s no return address.”

  The guy shrugged. “I picked it up at the hub. It was on my route ticket.” He stopped at the door. “Where do you want it?” Cullen looked around the workshop, pointed to a space against the far wall, and moved out of the way.

  “Is there some way I can find out where this came from?”

  “Beats me.” The guy wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Please sign this.” He handed Cullen an electronic clipboard and a stylus. Cullen scribbled his name and repeated the question. He didn’t get any further.

  “You can call the dispatcher if you want.” The driver turned, hopped into his vehicle, and drove off, leaving a very perplexed Cullen standing in the doorway.

  * * *

  Like clockwork, Luna Bodhi Bodman arrived at the café at her typical time, nine A.M. On her way, she stopped at the Flakey Tart and picked up her usual basket of scones and muffins. Even though the Tart had its own kiosk at the art center, Luna served their delicious delights with coffee and tea during the day.

  At the age of thirty-three, she was a dabbler in paranormal psychology and an amateur medium. Dabbled is probably an understatement. She didn’t want her unconventional way of thinking and feeling to be a detriment to her brother’s restoration business. But she certainly looked the part of a New Age psychic if there was such a thing. Her hippie wardrobe, waist-length hair, and granny glasses were a huge clue that she was not your run-of-the-mill barista. The café had been her brother’s idea. She had agreed to run it because doing so gave her the opportunity to do her readings as well as be of assistance to him. Plus, with the café being right next door to his shop, he could keep an eye on her. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself. But Luna had a way of generating more excitement than was either necessary or expected. But that, too, was part of her charm.

  In addition to the readings her unconventional talent allowed her to engage in, she was an artist and design consultant. When called upon, she worked with her brother Cullen, assisting customers engaged in redecorating or refurbishing parts or all of their homes.

  Cullen heard the bell that signaled that someone had walked into the showroom. He checked his watch—9:15 A.M. He was looking forward to one of the Flakey Tart’s blueberry scones. He knew it was a bad habit, but they were too delicious to pass up. The days the center was open, Luna would bring Cullen his morning coffee and his favorite breakfast pastry.

  Luna was a bundle of energy, spinning her light into the room. Cullen, who was not and never had been a morning person, marveled at how bright and effervescent she could be so early in the day.

  “Namaste, brother.” She gave a little bow as she handed him a tray holding a cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso and that blueberry piece of heaven.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Cullen gave her a slight bow in return.

  “Something smells a little smoky.” She sniffed the air and turned to her dog, Wiley, a border collie. “What do you think, fella? Something smells different.”

  Cullen cocked his head in the direction of the far wall. “Somebody had an old trunk delivered. It’s still in a crate.”

  “Smells like someone had a fire sale.” Luna would never let her curiosity go unsatisfied. She inched her way toward the mysterious parcel. She kept inhaling and turned to Cullen. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Her eyes grew wide in an accusatory fashion.

  “Jeez. Can I please have a sip of my coffee first?” Cullen gave her a playful sneer.

  “Considering I made it special for you, yes, please do.” Luna crouched to get a better look at the crate. The crate was open-sided, so part of the trunk could be seen. “Hmmmm . . .” she murmured quizzically. “Where did it come from?”

  “I have no idea. Neither did the deliveryman.” Cullen took another sip of his caffeine fix. “He showed me the bill of lading and this is the delivery address, including my name.”

  “Huh.” Luna stood. “Curiouser and curiouser. All the more reason we should open it!” She clapped her hands and chanted, “Open it! Open it,” as Wiley yapped in rhythm.

  Cullen rolled his eyes and set his coffee cup down. “All right. All right. But not until I get a bite of this.” He chomped down on the scone. “Delicious!”

  “Come on! Come on! Let’s get snappy!” She snapped her fingers in rhythm.

  “Let me swallow, please.” Cullen was always amused at his sister’s exuberance. She was one of those people who could turn going to the mailbox into a party.

  He wiped his fingers on the cloth napkin that always accompanied his morning ritual. “Grab me that crowbar.” He pointed to the wall where he kept most of his tools.

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Luna said, saluting as she brought him the implement he needed. “Any note come with that thing?”

  “Not that I can tell from the outside. I am hoping there will be an explanation once we unpack it.” He gently wedged the tool between two pieces of wood and pried the first slat off. He worked his way around the crate until the trunk was completely exposed.

  “Wow. How old do you think this thing is?” Luna moved in a little closer.

  “It looks like something from an old steamship. Maybe 1920s.” He brushed a finger along the worn leather straps and took a whiff. “Smoke damage for sure.”

  “Smells like it was in or near a fire,” Luna observed. “Check it out.” She pointed to a small plastic pouch affixed to the trunk. It contained a folded piece of paper. “Maybe this will solve your mystery.”

  Cullen gingerly removed the envelope taped to the lock, being careful not to ruin the leather any further. The lock itself was in desperate need of repair.

  He read it out loud:

  Dear Mr. Bodman,

  Please pardon my lack of correspondence prior to the delivery, but time was of the essence and your reputation for restoration is impeccable. This trunk is what is left of my family’s estate and it had to be removed from storage. As you can tell, it was in a fire. Unfortunately, no one can locate the key, and the local locksmith could not guarantee opening it without further damaging the trunk and its contents. It is my hope you will find time to clean and restore it to the best of your ability.

  Should you find the contents in good order, I would appreciate your holding them until the restoration process is complete, at which time I will have someone retrieve it. There is no particular rush as I have now removed it from where it had been stored for many years. Enclosed you will find a money order in the amount of $1000 as a deposit. Should you require more money up front, please send an e-mail to [email protected], and I will have funds transferred to you as per your instructions. My gratitude in advance.

  Cullen looked blankly at his sister.

  “What?”

  “There’s no name or signatur
e.” Cullen passed her the note and the money order.

  When she touched the letter, a slight shiver went up her spine. “There is something amiss.”

  “Uh-oh. Here we go.” Cullen let out a big sigh and shook his head.

  “Well, now, don’t you think it’s rather odd?” Luna asked calmly. She ticked off her fingers. “One. You get a mysterious delivery. Two. The trunk has been in or near a fire. Three. The note has no signature. And a big number four, there’s a one-thousand-dollar money order. Come on, Cul. You don’t have to be psychic to feel as if something is a bit strange here.”

  “Well, you’re right about that. The strange part. But why do you think something is amiss?”

  Luna gave him her impatient sideways look. Not quite an eye roll, but close. “Brother, dear brother. When will you ever learn?” She gave him a “tsk-tsk” and retreated to her café.

  * * *

  The Bodman siblings had grown up around antiques, and Cullen had taken over the family business when their father retired. Cullen would provide consulting and procurement for certain clients who were shopping for specific pieces or redecorating. But Cullen was more interested in bringing things back to life and took great pleasure in restoration.

  Cullen was the strait-laced, Ralph Lauren type. He stood around six feet and, at thirty-six, still had a full head of sandy hair, with just a few strands of gray at the temples. He had a good head for business and handled the finances for both his shop and the café.

  Luna was clearly the ethereal one. They made an interesting pair. That was one of the reasons why Ellie Stillwell granted them one of the corners of the art center. In the beginning, Luna was concerned that Ellie would not approve of her paranormal abilities so she kept it on the down-low, only doing readings for people who were referred to her. She also had an overwhelming desire to help others by using it.