Night's Landing by Carla Neggers

From the Publisher

In her gripping novels, New York Times bestselling author Carla Neggers combines action, intrigue, romance and adventure like no one else...

Archaeologist Sarah Dunnemore is prepared for almost anything when she returns to her family home in Night's Landing, Tennessee...except the news that her twin brother, Rob, has just been seriously wounded in a sniper attack in Central Park. She rushes to New York to be with him, only to come up against no-nonsense Nate Winter, who was slightly wounded in the attack. In his work as a deputy U.S. marshal, Nate is the best, but he's willing to break the rules to track down his and Rob's would-be killer. Nate believes the official investigation is going in the wrong direction--especially when he learns that Sarah is like a surrogate daughter and a confidante to her family's famous Night's Landing neighbor--the president of the United States.

When Nate suspects that Sarah has held back crucial information, he follows her to Night's Landing. Because Nate will let nothing--not his and Sarah's growing attraction for each other, not the mounting danger they face--stand in the way of the truth. But in a place filled with betrayal, greed and long-held secrets, truth is guarded with a deadly vengeance.

Publishers Weekly

This middling romantic suspense novel from Neggers revolves around the mysterious parentage of United States President Wesley Poe, who, as an infant, had been left on the doorstep of two spinster sisters. After deputy U.S. marshal Nate Winter (brother to the heroine from Neggers's previous offering, Cold Ridge) and his partner, deputy Rob Dunnemore, are shot and wounded in Central Park, Nate tries to find out who would want them dead and why. He soon learns that Rob may have been the killer's primary target since his prominent Tennessee family has strong ties to President Poe, and his twin sister Sarah, a historical archaeologist, is working on a documentary of Poe's life. When a threatening letter suggests that Sarah may be next on the shooter's hit list, Sarah and Nate hole up at Night's Landing, her family's rural Tennessee home. Both the romance and mystery are lukewarm, and Neggers ties up the story's loose ends in an uninspired, journalistic fashion. However, an intriguing cast of characters including a bottom-feeding tabloid reporter constantly lurking in the shadows, a property manager who definitely is not who he seems and an expatriate looking for a presidential pardon lends complexity to this romantic intrigue. Agent, Meg Ruley. (May) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

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Night's Landing

Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.

Chapter One

Done.

But reporters had an uncanny ability of coming up with another way of asking what they'd just asked and politicians of saying what they'd just said. And the FBI, U.S. Marshals Service and New York Police Department brass wanted their fair share of credit. Deservedly so, maybe, but Nate just wanted to get back to work.

He cleared out of the airless meeting room on the ground floor of a fancy Central Park South hotel - the choice of the mayor's office - and made his way out to the street, welcoming the blast of chilly New York air.

It was midday. Traffic was bad. Some of the pedestrians had unfurled their umbrellas, but it wasn't really raining. Just misting, not even drizzling. People were craving real spring air - it was the first week in May - but it felt like March again.

Rob Dunnemore, a fellow deputy U.S. marshal, stood next to Nate and hunched his shoulders against the cold. "My southern blood is protesting."

Nate glanced at his younger colleague. They both had on their best dark suits, plus their nine-millimeter semiautomatics, their cuffs, their badges - the hardware wasn't visible, but Nate doubted they could pass for New York businessmen, either. "Air feels good to me."

"It would. I'll bet the snow hasn't melted where you come from."

Cold Ridge, New Hampshire, in the heart of the White Mountains. Nate hadn't been home since his sister Carine's wedding in February. "My uncle tells me there's still snow on the ridge. It's melted in the valleys."

"The frozen north." Rob gave an exaggerated shiver. He had the kind of blond good looks and southern charm tinged with danger that had an irresistible effect on the female support staff - and more than one female marshal. "New York's plenty cold enough for me. Come on. I need a dose of springtime. Let's check out the tulips in Central Park."

"Tulips? Dunnemore, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I saw about a million tulips when I was in Holland a couple weeks ago visiting my folks." He gave Nate an unabashed grin. "I'm kind of into them right now."

Before Nate could respond, Dunnemore seized on a break in traffic and jaywalked across Central Park South. Nate, who was taller and lankier, followed at a slower pace, still unaccustomed to his fellow deputy's wide range of interests. He had no idea how or why Rob Dunnemore had ended up in the U.S. Marshals Service, never mind being assigned to its southern New York district. The Dunnemores were a prominent Tennessee family - Rob had been educated at private schools in Nashville and Washington, D.C., and graduated from Georgetown. He'd done a year abroad. Paris. He'd been everywhere and spoke six or seven languages, including Arabic and Farsi. Sooner or later, someone in Washington would reel him in and put him to work in intelligence.

After just four months in New York, Rob noticed everything. After five years, Nate didn't even notice the noise and grime anymore. He liked the city, but he didn't delude himself. He wasn't staying there. There was talk of sitting him at a desk at USMS headquarters in Arlington, Virginia. It would be a major promotion after more than a dozen years in street law enforcement.

He and Rob walked down the steps at Fifth Avenue and Fifty-ninth Street and entered the normally busy southeast corner of the park. But on such a miserable day, it was quiet, the noontime traffic above them almost distant, as if they'd entered an oasis in the middle of the tall buildings and millions of people.

The grass was lush and green, the spring leaves thickening on the trees and brush on the steep bank along the Central Park South fence and the famous elliptical-shaped pond. There was just enough of a drizzle to cause pinpricks across the pond's gray water.

"The tulips are something, aren't they?" Rob walked up the gently curving path along the edge of the pond. "My sister says they're done for in Tennessee."

"Rob, Christ. I've got work to do. I can't be wasting time looking at flowers."

"What's the matter? We hard-ass marshals can't appreciate tulips?"

Nate made himself take in the thousands of tulips that blossomed in waves on the sloping lawn to the right of the path, opposite the pond. Dark pink, light pink, white - they added a cheerful touch of color against the gloom. "All right. I've appreciated the tulips."

"When do tulips bloom in New Hampshire? July?"

"We're a couple weeks behind New York."

Probably more than a couple weeks this year, according to his uncle. Even for a tried-and-true northern New Englander like Gus Winter, it had been a long winter. More snow than normal, more days with temperatures that fell below zero - and a Valentine's Day wedding in the middle of it. The second of Nate's younger sisters, Carine, and her childhood friend, Tyler North, had finally married. They'd almost made it to the altar the previous Valentine's Day, but called the wedding off at the last moment. It had taken a murder in Boston and a dangerous showdown with a madman on infamous Cold Ridge in the White Mountains before they came to their senses and finally married.

The previous October, Nate's other younger sister, Antonia, had married Hank Callahan, now the junior U.S. senator from Massachusetts.

No one had said, "Two down, one to go," but Nate had heard the words in his mind. He had no intention of getting married while he was still working on the streets. He'd been orphaned as a little boy. He liked not having anyone worrying about whether he'd come home that night. A wife, kids. A dog. He didn't even own a cat.

(Continues...)

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