Rumor Has It Read online

  Dear Reader,

  I'm often asked how I got my start as a writer. When I tell them that my first novels were romances for Bantam's Loveswept line, they're often surprised. Although this genre may seem as though it's quite different from the suspense I now write, the two have more in common than it seems.

  For me, every good story has two essential elements: characters to fall in love with and a mystery to be solved—whether it's an unsolved crime or that complex emotion that bewilders us most of all: love. Even the most sophisticated murder plot can't compare to the perplexing inner mechanisms of the human heart.

  In Rumor Has It, Katie Quaid meets Nick Leone, a Yankee heartthrob with a mysterious past and a rogue's smile that seems to dare Katie to unmask him. The proper Southern lady has her own deep secrets and, for years, has buried herself in her work, restoring historic homes, while trying to recover from an accident that destroyed a lifelong dream. Nick vows to melt the walls of the woman others call an ice princess. Will they be able to build a love that bridges two different dreams?

  I loved writing about Katie and Nick's journey years ago, and hope that you'll enjoy it today.

  All my best,

  Tami Hoag

  Praise for the Bestsellers of Tami Hoag

  THE ALIBI MAN

  “Captivating thriller… [Elena] is a heroine readers will want to see more of.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Hard to put down.”

  —Washington Post

  “A superbly taut thriller. Written in a staccato style that will have readers racing through the pages… Will leave readers breathless and satisfied.”

  —Booklist

  “A suspenseful tale, with a surprising ending; the author once again has constructed a hard-hitting story with interesting characters and a thrilling plot.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Elena Estes [is] one of Hoag's most complicated, difficult and intriguing characters…. Hoag enhances a tight mystery plot with an over-the-shoulder view of the Palm Beach polo scene, giving her readers an up-close-and-personal look at the rich and famous…. The Alibi Man is her best work to date.”

  —BookReporter.com

  “An engrossing story and a cast of well-drawn characters.”

  —Minneapolis Star Tribune

  “[Hoag] gets better with every book. One of the tautest thrillers I have read for a long while.”

  —Bookseller (UK)

  “Hoag certainly knows how to build a plot and her skill has deservedly landed her on bestseller lists numerous times.”

  —South Florida Sun-Sentinel

  “Hoag has a winner in this novel where she brings back Elena Estes.… Hoag is the consummate storyteller and creator of suspense.”

  —Mystery News

  “Tami Hoag weaves an intricate tale of murder and deception…. A very well-written and thought-out murder/ mystery. Hoag is able to keep you guessing and you'll be left breathless until all the threads are unwoven and the killer is revealed.”

  —FreshFiction.com

  PRIOR BAD ACTS

  “A snappy, scary thriller.”

  —Entertainment Weekly

  “Stunning… Here [Hoag] stands above the competition, creating complex characters who evolve more than those in most thrillers. The breathtaking plot twists are perfectly paced in this compulsive page-turner.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  “A chilling thriller with a romantic chaser.”

  —New York Daily News

  “A first-rate thriller with an ending that will knock your socks off.”

  —Booklist

  “An engrossing thriller with plenty of plot twists and a surprise ending.”

  —OK! magazine

  “A chilling tale of murder and mayhem.”

  —BookPage

  “The in-depth characterization and the unrelenting suspense are what makes Prior Bad Acts an outstanding read. Gritty and brutal at times, Prior Bad Acts delivers a stunning novel of murder, vengeance and retribution…. Riveting and chilling suspense.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  KILL THE MESSENGER

  “Excellent pacing and an energetic plot heighten the suspense…. Enjoyable.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “Everything rings true, from the zippy cop-shop banter, to the rebellious bike messenger subculture, to the ultimate, heady collision of Hollywood money, politics, and power.”

  —Minneapolis Star Tribune

  “Hoag's usual crisp, uncluttered storytelling and her ability to make us care about her characters triumph in Kill the Messenger.”

  —Fort Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel

  “A perfect book. It is well written, and it has everything a reader could hope for…. It cannot be put down…. Please don't miss this one.”

  —Kingston (MA) Observer

  “[A] brisk read… it demonstrates once again why [Hoag's] so good at what she does.”

  —San Francisco Chronicle

  “Action-filled ride… a colorful, fast-paced novel that will keep you guessing.”

  —Commercial Appeal

  “High-octane suspense… Nonstop action moves the story forward at a breath-stealing pace, and the tension remains high from beginning to end…. Suspense at its very best.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “Hoag's loyal readers and fans of police procedural suspense novels will definitely love it.”

  —Booklist

  “Kill the Messenger will add to [Hoag's] list of winners…. This is a fast-moving thriller with a great plot and wonderful characters. The identity of the killer is a real surprise.”

  —Somerset (PA) Daily American

  “Engaging… the triumph of substance over style… character-driven, solidly constructed thriller.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Hoag upholds her reputation as one of the hottest writers in the suspense genre with this book, which not only has a highly complex mystery, multilayered suspense and serpentine plot, but also great characterizations … an entertaining and expertly crafted novel not to be missed.”

  —CurledUp.com

  DARK HORSE

  “A thriller as tightly wound as its heroine… Hoag has created a winning central figure in Elena…. Bottom line: Great ride.”

  —People

  “This is her best to date…. [A] tautly told thriller.”

  —Minneapolis Star Tribune

  “Hoag proves once again why she is considered a queen of the crime thriller.”

  —Charleston (SC) Post & Courier

  “A tangled web of deceit and double-dealing makes for a fascinating look into the wealthy world of horses juxtaposed with the realistic introspection of one very troubled ex-cop. A definite winner.”

  —Booklist

  “Anyone who reads suspense novels regularly is acquainted with Hoag's work—or certainly should be. She's one of the most consistently superior suspense and romantic suspense writers on today's bestseller lists. A word of warning to readers: don't think you know whodunit ‘til the very end.”

  —Clute (TX) Facts

  “Suspense, shocking violence, and a rip-roaring conclusion—this novel has all the pulse-racing touches that put Tami Hoag books on bestseller lists and crime fans’ reading lists.”

  —Baton Rouge Advocate Magazine

  “Full of intrigue, glitter, and skullduggery… [Hoag] is a master of suspense.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Her best to date, an enjoyable read, and a portent of even better things to come.”

  —Grand Rapids Press

  “A complex cerebral puzzle that will keep readers on the edge until all the answers are revealed.”

  —Midwest Book Review
r />   “To say that Tami Hoag is the absolute best at what she does is a bit easy since she is really the only person who does what she does…. It is a testament to Hoag's skill that she is able to go beyond being skillful and find the battered hearts in her characters, and capture their beating on the page…. A superb read.”

  —Detroit News & Free Press

  BANTAM TITLES BY TAMI HOAG

  The Alibi Man

  Prior Bad Acts

  Kill the Messenger

  Dark Horse

  Dust to Dust

  Ashes to Ashes

  A Thin Dark Line

  Guilty as Sin

  Night Sins

  Dark Paradise

  Cry Wolf

  Still Waters

  Lucky's Lady

  The Last White Knight

  Straight from the Heart

  Tempestuous/The Restless Heart

  Taken by Storm

  Heart of Dixie

  Mismatch

  Man of Her Dreams

  ONE

  “HE CAN'T BE single,” Mary Margaret McSwain said, adjusting the focus on her binoculars as she peered at the store across the street. “He's too good- looking. It's McSwain's Law: If a man's gorgeous, he has to be married, gay, or a serial killer.”

  Zoe Baylor shoved a book of wallpaper samples out of her way and leaned across the oak table, bracing her long dark hands against the window frame as she tried to get a better look without benefit of magnifying lenses.

  “Mary Margaret,” Katie Quaid called in a warning tone as she struggled in the back door of the store, her tiny frame weaving under the weight of books of drapery swatches. After the day she'd had, she wouldn't have refused a hand, but her friends seemed too preoccupied to offer. “I don't want to hear another one of your stories about serial killers. Mrs. Pruitt changed her mind again about the color of the guest room. If you describe to me one more brutal way to do away with somebody, no one is liable to find Mrs. Pruitt for a long, long time.”

  Katie dropped the drapery samples on her desk with a horrendous crash. Neither of the women staring out the window so much as flinched. The tip of Zoe's nose dotted the plate glass in front of her like that of a hungry kid looking in a bakery window. Katie's business partner, known as Maggie to her friends, was kneeling on her chair, her well- rounded bottom sticking up as she leveled a pair of binoculars at some point across the street.

  “Maggie, what on earth are you doing?” Katie asked. She knew her friend already had a solidly established reputation for being a flake. Spying on people with binoculars was not going to improve matters.

  “I'm spying on the Adonis in the store across the street.” Maggie sighed and moaned, never lowering her binoculars. “Haven't you heard? That old building was sold two days ago.”

  “Who bought it?”

  Maggie sat back with her legs tucked under her and offered the binoculars to Katie, deftly untangling the neck strap from the ends of her bobbed red hair. The smile that tilted her mouth was challenging. “See for yourself.”

  Katie rolled her eyes and propped a fist on her slender hip. “I will not stoop to window peeping.”

  “Chicken.”

  Muttering under her breath, Katie grabbed the field glasses from her friend and raised them to her eyes. Would she always be such a sucker for a dare? Probably. It had something to do with being only five feet one and seven- eighths inches tall. Being the first one to take a dare had always been her way of compensating for her lack of stature. That she was twenty- seven and had long since considered herself a grown woman had no effect on the trait.

  “If this isn't the silliest thing you've…” The rest of her breath washed out of her on the softest of sighs as she focused the binoculars.

  The dark T-shirt might have been painted on him. Even looking through the window of her store and the bay window of the store across the street, Katie could see the outline of his chest muscles, a wide expanse of hard, rippling pectorals. He was dancing as he washed the inside of the window. His breathtaking chest tapered to a narrow waist, and then to hips that were gently gyrating in time to the tune he was listening to on his headphones. He had the kind of body that was made for faded jeans—a flat belly, a perfectly rounded male fanny, slim hips, and muscular thighs.

  Before Katie could dwell on any other part of his lower anatomy, she jerked the glasses up to his face. She might have lost her breath again, except she hadn't been breathing. Inky black hair tumbled onto his forehead, lending his male beauty a roguish quality. Maggie hadn't been far wrong calling him an Adonis. His was the kind of face ancient Greek sculptors would have fought over to immortalize in marble.

  “His name is Nick Leone,” Maggie said, as if it were the most dangerously mysterious name she'd ever heard. “He's from New Jersey. Lee Henry Bartell heard it from Dee Roberts, the real estate agent who sold him the property.”

  “What's he doing in Briarwood?” Zoe asked suspiciously. In a nervous habit she ran a forefinger back and forth over the plastic name tag on her nurse's uniform.

  Katie forced herself to plunk the binoculars down on the table, embarrassed over her own involuntary reaction to the handsome stranger. She was no drooling man watcher; she had a business to run. “He must not know about the law against people from New Jersey moving to Virginia,” she said in a teasing voice.

  Zoe was too wrapped up in her musings to hear. “I thought he sounded like a Yankee,” she murmured.

  Maggie jumped on the comment like a cat on a june bug. “You heard him talk? You met him? Where? What's he like? He doesn't have a funny voice, does he? That would just ruin it for me if he had a funny voice. Where'd you see him?”

  A horrified look came over Zoe's long, thin face. “Nowhere.”

  “The hospital.” Maggie nodded, her brown eyes narrowing in thought. “Hmmm, that's interesting. What was he there for?”

  “Maggie!” Zoe exclaimed. “You know I can't talk about patients. It's not ethical.”

  “And it's none of your business, Mary Margaret,” Katie added pointedly. “Have you called in the order for that grass paper John Harris wants in his office?”

  “Yes. You know what the rumor is about him?”

  “I don't want to hear any rumors about John Harris,” Katie said, deliberately misinterpreting Maggie's question. She had a feeling the less she knew about the gorgeous arrangement of masculinity across the street, the better off she'd be. She scooped a couple of wallpaper books off the long table and returned them to their proper slots in the oak case along the wall.

  “Not John Harris, Nick Leone!”

  “Lord, Mary Margaret, the man hasn't been in town a week, and already there's gossip about him?” Katie pulled out a book of miniature country prints and headed for her desk. “I wonder if he knows what he's in for, moving to a small town.”

  “Rumor has it he's a mole.” She raised her carefully plucked eyebrows for emphasis.

  Katie ignored her, sitting down to page through the book, concentrating on paisley prints in order to get her mind off perfect male pectorals. Zoe shrugged. “I don't get it.”

  Maggie heaved a sigh. “A spy for the Company, an agent for the CIA. You know, double O, licensed to kill. They're called moles. Don't you ever go to the movies?”

  “The CIA,” Zoe whispered, rubbing her name tag. “I heard he was a fashion model.”

  “Oh, please,” Katie said, laughing at her friends’ wild imaginations. “I don't know which one of you is worse. Maggie, how can you make such a ridiculous remark?”

  “I'm only telling you what I heard, sugar. Lee Henry told me that Dee said the man was very reluctant to discuss himself, and when she asked him what he used to do up in New Jersey, he wouldn't exactly say.”