Dressed in pajamas covered with stars, the little girl’s body is perfectly still, her arms folded neatly over her chest. The wildflowers decorating her hair scatter across the grass in the sharp breeze. Her lips are parted slightly, as if to whisper goodnight for the very last time… When twelve-year-old Holly Mitchell’s fragile little body is found on the steps of a mountainside church in the small town of Denton, a doll made from pine cones clasped tightly to her chest, Detective Josie Quinn rushes to attend the scene. She knows this little girl’s angelic face, her mother had offered Josie help when she’d needed it most. Searching the girl’s house, Josie is devastated to find that Holly’s mother is dead too, and her little sister is missing. But why has this family home been stripped of all sharp objects? Re-tracing her steps, Josie finally finds a secret hiding place with Holly’s sister inside, terrified, but alive. Moments later, another doll made of twigs turns up. Certain the killer is close by, Josie holds the little girl tight and tries to coax answers from her, but it’s clear the pile of burnt photographs and letters found in the greenhouse is her only lead. No one is safe until Josie can figure out the dangerous secret that has escaped this remote family home. Just when Josie is finally closing in on the killer, the unthinkable happens, a tragedy that shakes her to her very core. And on the windshield of her car: a third wooden doll. Could stopping this twisted monster from taking more innocent lives come at the ultimate price for Josie? An absolutely gripping rollercoaster ride of a crime thriller from an Amazon, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. Perfect for fans of Angela Marsons, Robert Dugoni and Rachel Caine. Everyone is talking about Hush Little Girl : ‘I. Don’t. Know. How. She. Does. It… My heart pounded in my chest, my pulse raced, I shed some tears, and my hands shook… absolutely incredible.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ Mind-blowingly brilliant!! I read it in a day… just blew me away!!… Worth 10 stars if possible. A must read for everyone.’ NetGalley reviewer, 5 stars ‘ BUCKLE UP… never-ending twists and turns. You think you know what to expect… and then BAM she hits you with something so out of the blue that you can't help but gasp.’ Katie Mettner Books, 5 stars ‘ SO many things to love… ALL the emotions… you won't BELIEVE how Josie's world will be forever changed by the end of the book. I guarantee, you will be changed too! ’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ ***CRACK*** Lisa Regan has knocked it out of the ballpark yet again, and I could not be happier!!!… I devoured this book… There are twists and turns galore in addition to a HUGE amount of emotion in this book. Whew!… I LOVED IT!... I was glued to the pages from the very first page. She had me guessing, she had my heart pounding, she had me pleading "no, no, please no"… Read, read, read this book! ’ Open Book Posts, 5 stars ‘ Absolutely brilliant!!!! One hell of a rollercoaster ride, with so many twists and turns it'll make you dizzy!! It's energetic, exciting, thrilling and nerve-wracking!!… will have you shouting O.M.G. at every page!! ’ Stardust Book Reviews, 5 stars
Release date:
April 14, 2021
Publisher:
Bookouture
Print pages:
350
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Neither Josie nor Noah had time to brace for impact. The deer shot out of the trees to their left, a blur of faded brown. Its body met the front end of Noah’s new Chevrolet with perfectly imperfect timing. The hood of the car smashed inward like an aluminum soda can. Noah had no time to brake. Both their bodies launched forward. The seatbelt snapped taut across Josie’s body and her head whipped forward and back, leaving her disoriented. Blinking away the mind fog, she looked ahead to see a tendril of smoke rising from the compacted hood of the car. Noah’s voice floated over to her from the driver’s seat. “Josie? You okay? Josie?”
She turned her head toward him, flinching at the pain that streaked from the base of her skull down her neck. Blood trickled from a small cut on Noah’s forehead. Reaching toward him, she said, “You’re bleeding.”
He wiped the sleeve of his jacket across his head. “I’m fine,” he said. “Are you?”
Josie’s mind started to kick back into gear, catching up with her body. Other than her neck, everything felt okay. “I’m getting out,” she said.
She undid her seatbelt and tried to open the door, but it was stuck.
Noah said, “The frame bent. You’ll have to get out my side.”
He unlatched his seatbelt and got out, extending a hand inside the car to help pull Josie clear. It was late January, and the weather had been miserable for days. Gray clouds hung low and heavy over the city of Denton, occasionally gracing them with a dusting of snow. On the shoulder of the road, Josie pulled her coat tighter around her and looked up and down the winding mountain road. All they could see were trees and a ribbon of asphalt stretching miles in either direction.
Noah said, “We’re at least three miles from Harper’s Peak.”
“More like five,” Josie told him. She pointed in the direction they’d been headed—back into the city. “Two more miles into town.”
The city of Denton was nestled in a valley in Central Pennsylvania along the banks of the Susquehanna River. Most of its thirty thousand residents lived in the main area of town where neighborhoods were grouped closely together. However, in its entirety, the city spanned twenty-five square miles and encompassed the rural areas all around it. Lonely, winding roads like the one they were on snaked outward from the city proper and into the mountains in every direction.
Josie and Noah walked toward the front of the car where the deer lay on its side, unmoving. There was no visible injury, but Josie knew the impact had likely been enough to kill it. She took a few steps closer, noting that it had no antlers and its abdomen was swollen. “Good God,” she said. “I hope this isn’t a mommy deer.”
Noah drew up closer behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t get too close,” he said. “If she’s still alive and springs up, she could hurt you.”
Josie made no move to walk away. Instead, she stared at the doe, a sadness swirling around her insides, stirring up old feelings best left dormant.
“Josie,” Noah said. “It was an accident.”
“I know,” she said. It certainly wasn’t the first time either of them had hit a deer on the road. In Central Pennsylvania, accidents like this were a given. She wasn’t sure why this one bothered her so much.
“Do you think it’s bad luck?” she blurted, as icy rain began to spit from the sky.
Noah said, “What do you mean?”
She turned to him. Blood gathered in a fat bead along the cut on his forehead and slid down toward his right eye. Again, he swiped at it with his sleeve.
Josie fished a crumpled tissue from her jeans pocket. She slid her free hand around to the back of his head, threading her fingers through his thick, brown hair, and pressed the tissue to his forehead with the other hand, keeping pressure on it. His breath came out in a puff, the cold air making it visible. She said, “We’re on our way home from finalizing our wedding plans, and we hit a deer. Maybe a deer about to have a fawn.”
Noah put his hands on her shoulders and smiled at her. “We’ve had all the bad luck that two people can have already, don’t you think?”
Josie lifted the tissue and saw the bleeding had stopped. Dropping her arms, she looked into his hazel eyes. They had known each other for over seven years, dated for three years, and in that time, hell had been visited upon them both many times over. Maybe he was right.
He took the tissue from her and kissed her forehead. “Don’t read anything into this. With all the times we’ve been back and forth to Harper’s Peak in the last three months, it would be weird if we didn’t hit something.” Again, he glanced up and down the empty road. “I didn’t see any residences or businesses or anything on the way back from Harper’s Peak, though. No one we could ask for help.”
Josie took her cell phone from her pocket and tried calling one of her team. Both of them worked for the Denton Police Department, Noah as a lieutenant and Josie as a detective. Josie knew that the other detectives on the force, Gretchen Palmer and Finn Mettner, would come help them at a moment’s notice. “I can’t get any service,” she said. “Let me see your phone.”
He handed it to her. “Try making a hot spot.”
Josie tried making hot spots with both their phones but got nothing. No internet, no service at all. She walked back and forth along the road, holding the phones in the air, trying to get a signal, but there was nothing. They were in a dead zone.
Noah held out his hand for his phone and Josie returned it. “You stay with the car. I’ll walk toward town and keep trying to get a signal. If I get any bars, I’ll call Gretchen or Mettner. If I don’t, I’ll stop at the first house I see and ask to use the landline,” he said.
“I’ll go with you,” said Josie.
“It’s cold,” he said. “It’s starting to sleet. Stay in the car where you’ll be dry and somewhat warm. I can cover two miles in no time.”
Under her coat, her body shivered. The icy rain had turned heavy and wet. Each drop that splattered into her black hair plastered her locks to her head. She looked at the car, longing to get back in. “Do you feel dizzy?” she asked him. “Light-headed?”
Noah laughed softly. “I’m not concussed, if that’s what you’re worried about. Get in the car. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
Josie kissed him before climbing back into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t much warmer inside the car now that the engine was off—and now that it had been totaled—but it was wonderfully dry. She watched Noah jog down the road until the sleet against the window blurred him into a dark speck. Then he disappeared.
Again, she tried to get service on her phone, but there was nothing. A few minutes after Noah vanished from the horizon, she heard a noise that made her insides quiver. Josie climbed out of the car and went back to the deer. It lifted its head from the ground and emitted a high-pitched mewling that went right through Josie’s bones.
Agony.
“Shit,” she said, looking around. Everything in her wanted to respond to the sound of the animal’s pain with action. If it were a person, she’d be on the ground rendering aid or at least comfort, but that wasn’t possible. There was no choice but to stand by and listen to the poor doe’s last noises. They were both helpless—animal and woman. Josie hated that feeling more than any other feeling in the world.
By the time she registered the sound of a vehicle approaching behind her, she could barely swallow over the lump in her throat. Turning, she saw an old, white pickup pulling up behind Noah’s car. Its engine idled loudly. At the back of the inside of the truck cab, affixed to a gun rack, was a shotgun. The driver put the four-way emergency blinkers on and hopped out, leaving the gun behind. A woman in her early fifties walked toward Josie. She was taller than Josie and curvy, wearing faded jeans, heavy boots, and a thick rain jacket. Her long, curly brown hair was threaded with gray. Brow furrowed, she said, “You okay, miss?”
Josie motioned toward the deer and explained what had happened.
The woman extended a hand and Josie shook it. “Lorelei Mitchell,” she said.
“Josie Quinn.”
Josie waited for a spark of recognition. She was semi-famous in Denton for having solved some cases that were so shocking, they’d gained national news coverage. Also, her twin sister was a famous journalist. But Lorelei Mitchell only said, “How long ago did your fiancé walk off?”
Josie took her phone out to check the time but realized she didn’t know. She’d been too upset about the deer to keep track of how long it had been. She felt as though she’d been standing alone on the road with the keening animal for hours, but it was probably less than five minutes. “I’m not sure,” she told Lorelei. “Maybe ten, fifteen minutes?”
Lorelei pointed to her truck. “Why don’t you hop in? My place is back less than a half a mile. I get cell service there, believe it or not. I’ve also got a landline you can use to call for help.”
“We didn’t see any houses,” Josie pointed out.
Lorelei smiled. “I know. The driveway’s hidden. I like my privacy.”
“Thank you,” Josie said. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather wait for my fiancé.”
“I don’t normally recommend that women get into vehicles with strangers, but I promise you’ll be safe with me,” Lorelei added.
Josie smiled tightly. “I appreciate that, but I can wait.”
Lorelei was quiet long enough for the deer’s cries to fill Josie’s ears again. She went back to her truck. Again, Josie’s attention was drawn to the gun, although she didn’t know why. But Lorelei didn’t even glance at the gun. Instead, she returned with a photo in her hand. An actual photograph on glossy paper. She handed it to Josie. “Those are my girls. They’re eight and twelve. They’re waiting back at the house for me. It’s just us. Hence all the privacy. Got to keep them safe. Come with me. You can meet them, make some calls, and wait in a nice warm, dry house until help comes. I’ll even feed you.”
The deer’s cries had slowed somewhat but they were still loud and piercing. Josie tore her gaze away from its tortured eyes, wanting to look at anything else but the dying animal. She stared at the photograph. Both girls had shoulder-length brown hair. The younger girl’s hair was poker-straight, but the older girl’s was curly like Lorelei’s. “The youngest is Emily,” Lorelei said. “The older one is Holly.”
In the photo, Holly had one arm wrapped protectively around Emily’s shoulder. Emily gave a toothy grin. Holly’s smile was closed-lipped but no less infectious. They wore matching T-shirts with a drawing of a sloth and underneath, the words: My Spirit Animal. Josie gave a little laugh.
“Cute, aren’t they?” Lorelei said with a grin.
Josie was about to hand the photo back when she noticed Holly’s eyelashes. They were completely white.
Lorelei took a step closer and pointed at Holly’s face. “You’re looking at her eyelashes, right?” she said. “It’s okay. Everyone notices. She has poliosis.”
Josie could barely hear over the deer. She looked up at Lorelei. “What?”
“Poliosis. It’s a genetic thing. Harmless. Just the absence of melanin in your hair or eyelashes. She hates it, but I think it makes her look striking.”
Josie gave her the photo. “I’m sorry. I can’t—I can’t concentrate. Yes, let’s go back to the house.”
“Get in,” Lorelei told her.
Josie climbed into the truck and strapped herself in. Lorelei got in and turned the truck around, doing a three-point turn in the middle of the road. They could still hear the suffering deer. Before she pulled away, she put the truck back in park and said, “Hold on.”
Lorelei turned her body, reaching into the back seat and riffling around. Before Josie could ask any questions, she was out of the truck, her shotgun in her hand. Josie twisted in her seat, noticing two boxes of ammunition on the floor in the back. One box was open and a shell was missing. Her fingers punched at the seatbelt release button so she could get out and go after Lorelei.
A gunshot boomed, echoing all around them. The keening stopped. Josie sat completely frozen in her seat. Seconds later, Lorelei got back into the truck. Securing the shotgun to the rack behind their heads, she offered Josie a smile. “I’ll call the game commission when we get to my place.”
“You shot her,” Josie said.
“She was suffering, and no one was going to save her. No one could save her.”
Josie stared at her, open-mouthed.
Lorelei put the truck in drive and pulled back onto the road. “You can’t stop it, you know.”
“Suffering?” Josie said.
Lorelei laughed. “Well, that, too, yes, but I meant death. You can’t stop death.”
Josie stared at herself in the full-sized, freestanding mirror, barely recognizing the woman who stared back. She had chosen a simple, strapless wedding dress with a long, lacy train that she could sweep up into a bustle. Her mother Shannon had said it looked like something a Grecian goddess would wear. Josie liked the simplicity and elegance of it, as well as the mobility it allowed her. As a detective for the city of Denton, Pennsylvania, Josie was used to wearing khaki pants and polo shirts. Work never seemed to slow down, and she rarely got to dress up other than for funerals. Pushing that thought out of her mind, she ran her hands down over her hips. This was a happy day.
She turned her head from side to side. Her twin sister, Trinity Payne, a famous journalist who lived in New York City, had brought both a make-up artist and a hair stylist to Denton to work on Josie as well as the members of Josie’s bridal party, which consisted of Trinity, Josie’s friend, Misty Derossi, and Josie’s friend and colleague, Detective Gretchen Palmer. The make-up artist and hairdresser had done a remarkable job. Josie’s black locks had been pulled up and twisted into a chignon. Her skin glowed. Even the thin scar that ran down the right side of her face from her ear to beneath her chin, was almost invisible. The photographer that Trinity had also chosen flitted around her, taking pictures from every angle.
A hand squeezed her shoulder and Trinity’s face appeared behind her in the mirror. “You look amazing. Noah is going to lose it when he sees you coming down the aisle.”
“I look like you on a normal day,” Josie observed.
Trinity laughed and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh please,” she said.
The photographer snapped several photos of the two of them. Trinity’s black hair floated at her shoulders. The cobalt blue of the bridesmaid’s dress Josie had chosen was a lovely contrast against Trinity’s porcelain skin. As always, her make-up was impeccable.
From the corner of the suite, where she sat at a small, round table, Josie’s grandmother, Lisette Matson, laughed. “Imagine, Josie. You could look like a movie star every day with a bit of make-up.”
Trinity laughed and reached up to adjust a strand of Josie’s hair. “I’m not a movie star, remember? I’m a journalist.”
“Who’s about to have her very own show on national network television,” Lisette pointed out. “I’m happy for you, dear.”
Josie turned and raised a brow at Lisette. “I wear make-up. Just not… industrial-strength make-up.”
On the other side of the room, two heavy wooden chairs with crushed velvet cushions had been placed side by side for Misty and Gretchen to occupy while the hair stylist and make-up artist continued working their magic. Misty, her face upturned while the make-up artist brushed foundation along her jawline, said, “I ask her if I can do her make-up all the time, and she says no.”
Josie said, “I certainly don’t need this much make-up for work.”
Beside Misty, Gretchen scowled as the hair stylist used her fingers to work mousse into Gretchen’s short, spiky brown and gray hair. “That’s true,” she agreed.
“I need to sit down,” Josie said. She padded over to the table and carefully sat across from Lisette. She reached out for a piece of fresh fruit from the bowl that the resort had provided, but Trinity dashed over and smacked her hand. “No. No eating with that dress on. Not until after the ceremony.”
“You have to be kidding me,” Josie said.
Trinity’s flinty gaze bore down on her. “You know I’m not.”
The heavy door to their suite opened and their mother, Shannon, swept in. She beamed at Josie. As she drew closer, studying Josie with obvious pride and awe, the photographer snapped more photos. “Look at you! Absolutely stunning.” One of her fists opened to reveal a crumpled tissue which she pressed to her eyes.
“Mom,” Trinity complained. “You’re going to ruin your make-up.”
“I can’t help it,” Shannon said. “Besides, if you think I’m bad, wait till you see your father. He’s a mess.” She placed her other hand on Josie’s shoulder. “For thirty years, we thought this day was out of reach. Gone from us forever.”
Josie patted her hand. “I know.”
“Dammit,” Trinity said. “I said no crying! No crying at this wedding.”
Josie laughed and glanced at Lisette, who had a twinkle in her blue eyes. Josie had been born to Shannon and Christian Payne. When she and her sister were only three weeks old, a former housecleaner, Lila Jensen, set the Paynes’ home on fire with the babies inside. Their nanny managed to rescue Trinity, but Lila stole away with Josie and passed her off as her own child for years. Both local authorities and the Paynes believed that Josie had perished in the fire. But Josie had been taken two hours away to Denton, where her vile abductor told Lisette’s son, Eli Matson, that Josie was his daughter. He had no reason to disbelieve Lila and had raised Josie as his own until his death when Josie was only six years old. Josie had lived in terror, enduring one trauma after another at the hands of Lila, until Lisette got custody of her at age fourteen. From then until three years ago, when the truth finally came out and Josie was reunited with the Paynes, Josie and Lisette had only had each other.
Josie had married her high school sweetheart, Ray Quinn, just after college, but that wedding had been small with a limited number of guests, and the only family members in attendance had been Lisette and Ray’s mother. No one had walked Josie down the aisle to Ray, and that had suited her just fine at the time. Her life to that point had hardly been normal, and she had endured all of her hardships largely on her own. It had made sense to her that she alone should walk down the aisle to her groom. Now, her biological father was in her life. They’d formed a bond over the years, and she was thrilled to have him there to walk her down the aisle to Noah Fraley.
“How are things on the groom’s side of the hall?” Misty asked before any of them could dissolve into happy tears.
Shannon waved the tissue in the air. “Oh, you know, it’s a mad house over there. Only Noah is completely ready, and Harris is chasing the dog around the suite.”
“Dammit,” Misty said, pushing the make-up artist away. “I’ll go over there and tell him to settle down.”
“I’ll go with you,” said the photographer, following Misty out of the bridal suite.
Harris was Misty’s four-year-old son. After Josie and Ray broke up, Ray had fallen hard for Misty, but he had died before their son was born. Oddly enough, Josie and Misty had become very good friends in the wake of Ray’s death. Harris, together with Josie and Noah’s Boston Terrier, Trout, was supposed to be on ring-bearer duty.
“I don’t know why you two insisted on having the dog in the ceremony,” Trinity said, not for the first time.
Shannon said, “Trinity, really. It’s Josie’s wedding. She can do whatever she wants—and she should.”
Trinity folded her arms across her chest. “Well, as her unofficial wedding planner, I objected strenuously to having the dog in the ceremony.”
Josie laughed. “Unofficial? Really? I can count on one hand the number of decisions I got to make about this wedding.” She turned to Shannon and Lisette. “She even booked the band!”
Trinity said, “It’s the Walton-Marquette Project, out of Chester County. You remember them, right, Mom?”
Shannon nodded. “We saw them at the Winter MusicFest. They’re fabulous. Everyone will love them, Josie.”
Josie waved a hand. “I know they will. Honestly, I’m grateful for all your help, Trin. But having Trout in our wedding is non-negotiable. It will be adorable, and the owners, Celeste and Adam, were fine with us doing it and having Trout here all weekend.”
Lisette said, “I can’t imagine a better wedding venue, Josie. This place is amazing.”
Josie stood and walked over to the large windows that overlooked the northeast edge of Harper’s Peak’s grounds. They were empty save for two men striding across the expansive lawn below. One wore a maroon polo shirt and pressed khakis, the uniform of resort staff. The other man wore a light-colored suit, but Josie recognized him as Tom Booth, the resort’s managing director. When Josie first met him, she thought he was just Celeste Harper’s assistant since he was usually found at her side with an iPad in his hands, tapping away at the screen while she barked instructions. As he hurried across the lawn, she saw the iPad tucked beneath one of his arms.
The Harper’s Peak property had originally been a homestead settled by the Harper family in the early 1800s. It encompassed hundreds of acres of land spanning two mountaintops. Initially, there was an old stone house which now served as the personal residence for the resort’s present-day owners, Celeste Harper and her husband, Adam Long. There was also a tiny white one-room church that sat on one of the mountain peaks. The original Harper settlers had used it as a schoolhouse as well as their place of worship. Now it hosted wedding ceremonies.
Subsequent generations of the Harper family had added additional buildings to their estate. First, the Harper family built the large bed and breakfast which now served as a sought-after location for wedding parties to assemble and prepare for the ceremony and reception. It had been named Griffin Hall after Celeste’s father, Griffin Harper. Then, years later, a larger hotel and resort was built beside it. The grounds of Harper’s Peak were breathtaking with their carefully manicured gardens and mountain overlooks. Josie would have chosen the resort for their wedding based on the photos of the venue alone. Her heart fluttered imagining that in just a couple of short hours, she’d be standing in the tiny church on one of the overlooks staring into the hazel eyes of her new husband, Noah.
A door slammed in the hallway. Seconds later, Misty and the photographer entered the bridal suite. With a tight smile, Misty said, “Things are settled over there. It wasn’t too bad.”
She sat back down in her chair and let the make-up artist finish up. Beside her, Gretchen waved off the hair stylist so she could check an alert on her phone. The photographer said, “Shall we get some photos of you with your mother and grandmother?”
“Sure,” said Josie.
Lisette stood up and grabbed her walker, shuffling over toward Josie. “Shall we take them in front of the window?” she asked.
The photographer smiled. “Sure, let’s try that.”
Gretchen stood up. “I’ll be right back.”
Josie heard the door to the groom’s suite across the hall slam again as Gretchen left the room.
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