Little Girl Lost

Exasperated, she met his gaze. “You’re welcome to head back to the house if I’m taking too long, Detective.”

“I’ve got plenty of time.” A half smile eased some of the intensity from his face, and Portia found herself studying him. The dim light couldn’t hide his rough-edged good looks. He’d be an interesting subject to capture in charcoal.

By the time she finally managed to remove her skates, her stomach was twisting with nerves. Murder. Just the word filled her with dread.

THE SECRETS OF STONELEY: Six sisters face murder, mayhem and mystery while unraveling the past.

FATAL IMAGE-Lenora Worth (LIS#38)

LITTLE GIRL LOST-Shirlee McCoy (LIS#40)

BELOVED ENEMY-Terri Reed (LIS#44)

THE SOUND OF SECRETS-Irene Brand (LIS#48)

DEADLY PAYOFF-Valerie Hansen (LIS#52)

WHERE TRUTH LIES-Lynn Bulock (LIS#56)

has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of four, Shirlee is a homeschool mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in Maryland and share their house with a dog and a guinea pig. You can visit her Web site at www.shirleemccoy.com.

Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Shirlee McCoy for her contribution to THE SECRETS OF STONELEY miniseries.

To Seth, whose honesty inspires me and whose gifts

never cease to amaze me.

To Beth Sharo. If we weren’t sisters, we undoubtedly would have been friends. What a blessing to be both!

And to Rodney. Just because.

Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you. For You, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before the Lord in the land of the living.

—Psalms 116:7–9

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st, Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st, So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

—William Shakespeare, “Sonnet 18,” lines 9–14

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

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

She was going to have fun if it killed her. And, judging by the way Portia Blanchard’s feet were slipping out from under her, it just might.

“Come on, Portia. You can do better than that.” Her older sister Cordelia laughed the words as she sped by Portia, her skates spraying chips of ice as she passed.

“Your skirt is too long and too full. That’s why you’re having trouble. Let’s go back to the house. You can change clothes.” Miranda, the oldest of Portia’s five sisters, took her arm, urging her toward the edge of the pond.

“Changing won’t transform me into a world-class skater, Miranda.” Portia pulled away, her clumsy efforts almost landing her on the ice. She’d never been graceful on skates, but she’d always loved trying. Loved the yearly twilight skate she shared with her five sisters, loved the cold crisp air, the feeling that no matter what the future held, they had each other. “Besides, I don’t want to miss sunset.”

“We’ve still got twenty minutes until sunset. That’s plenty of time to get to the house and back.” Miranda was nothing if not determined.

“Twelve minutes. Give or take a few seconds,” Bianca, second-born and usually the peacemaker of the family, cut in. “She’s an adult, Miranda, not a kid. She can wear what she wants, so stop nagging her.”

“I was not nagging. I was just pointing out that pants might be more appropriate.”

“Appropriate? Since when has Portia been appropriate?” Nerissa skated toward them, a smile lighting a face so like Portia’s even their father had difficulty telling them apart.

“Since never.” Juliet joined them. The baby of the family, she had a restless energy that was never quite contained, though tonight she seemed subdued, her green eyes lacking their normal sparkle.

They all seemed subdued and Portia knew she was partially to blame, her heartache adding to the discordant note of this year’s reunion. Maybe she should have stayed in New York. The family had enough to worry about without adding her troubles to the mix.