Hiding in Plain Sight

Hiding in Plain Sight, A Billy Jo McCabe Mystery

COPYRIGHT © Lorhainne Ekelund, 2021, All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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

Contact Information: [email protected]

Editor: Talia Leduc

Hiding in Plain Sight

A Billy Jo McCabe Mystery

Book 2

Lorhainne Eckhart

Contents

Keep in touch with Lorhainne

A New Crossover Series!

About this book

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

What’s next in the Billy Jo McCabe Mystery

The Cold Case

Other works available

The Family Secret, Chapter 1

About the Author

Series Available

Links to Lorhainne Eckhart’s Booklist

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A New Crossover Series!

The Billy Jo McCabe Mystery

Nothing As It Seems

Hiding in Plain Sight

The Cold Case

The Trap

Above the Law

The Stranger at the Door

The Children

The Last Stand

The Charity

The Sacrifice

A Billy Jo McCabe Mystery Box Set: Books 1 - 3

A Billy Jo McCabe Mystery Box Set: Books 4 - 6

A Billy Jo McCabe Mystery box Set: Books 7 - 9

The social worker and the cop, an unlikely couple drawn together on a small, secluded Pacific Northwest island where nothing is as it seems. Protecting the innocent comes at a cost, and what seems to be a sleepy, quiet town is anything but.

The Social Worker

Billy Jo McCabe wants only to help children overcome their troubled lives, as she herself struggles to forget the childhood nightmare she survived. She took sociology and prelaw at the insistence of her adoptive father, Chase McCabe, and learned how to use power tools from her adoptive mother, Rose. She loves reading in the backs of bookstores before tucking the book back on the shelf and slipping out without paying. She has a fondness for peanut butter and dill pickle sandwiches, has a three-legged cat named Harley, hates running (because that was all she did as a kid), and secretly binges on brownies and red wine on the sofa in front of her TV every Friday night.

She’s never been married and has dated only twice. She visits Chase and Rose when summoned and shows up dutifully for every holiday with her family, but she has no siblings to speak of, and she feels a growing resentment for the mother who abandoned her in foster care. Despite proudly maintaining the same prickly attitude that nearly landed her behind bars as a kid, she has yet to speak up to Chase, who interferes in her life too frequently, ready to fix every problem, whether she wants him to or not.

One thing no one knows about Billy Jo is that she moved to Roche Harbor because it’s the only clue she has about the last known whereabouts of the woman who abandoned her.

The Cop

Mark Friessen, son of Jed and Diana Friessen, has landed accidently in the role of small-town detective, a position in which he’s going nowhere. Nearly married once, and broken-hearted three times, he’s sworn he’ll stay single forever, and he keeps his tattoo of a former girlfriend as a reminder that only fools fall in love. He’s tall, attractive, and stubborn, and he refuses to live in the shadow of his two older brothers, Chris and Danny.

As Roche Harbor’s youngest detective, he sleeps with a gun under his pillow. He has a stray dog that won’t leave, and he swears that the only two food groups that exist are meat and potatoes. His favorite drink is black coffee in the morning, sugared coffee in the afternoon, and a shot of whiskey in his coffee at night to keep him warm.

***Each book in this series is a complete book, with no cliff-hangers, and can be read as a standalone. However, these books may contain references to situations from earlier books in the series. As with any long book series that focuses on specific characters, their changing relationships, and how their lives continue to unfold, you may find it more enjoyable to read the series in order of publishing, as there will be developments and changes in the relationship dynamics of the core characters.

About this book

Some secrets are buried for a reason…

Billy Jo McCabe’s troubled past has always haunted her, and now, she's determined to uncover the truth about her birth mother. Driven by a need for answers, she begins to dig into her sealed adoption file—despite a stern warning from Detective Mark Friessen to leave the past alone. 

But Billy Jo won’t be deterred. Her search quickly turns into a dangerous game, as someone with a lot to lose will stop at nothing to keep her from uncovering the truth. As threats mount and terror follows her every step, she’s forced to question everyone around her—who can she trust, and who’s hiding in plain sight?

In this tense and twist-filled mystery from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lorhainne Eckhart, Billy Jo risks everything to unearth long-buried secrets. But some truths may be more dangerous than she ever imagined. Prepare for a shocking conclusion that will keep you guessing until the final page.

Chapter One

When Billy Jo thought of Carly Thornton, never in a million years had she pictured a white picket fence.

She parked on the street, looking out at the house, a cute two-story craftsman with teal trim and a front porch with two comfy lounge chairs, a welcoming invitation to come sit and visit. She took a second to check whether she had the right address.

This had to be a joke.

She couldn’t pry her hands from where they were wrapped around her black steering wheel, the car still idling. She took in the houses on both sides of the street, the kind of homes that implied family, community, respectability, where people likely spent Saturdays barbecuing with neighbors.

This had to be the wrong Carly Thornton. But then, the trail had gone cold here after so much digging. The curiosity Billy Jo hadn’t been able to shake suddenly turned into anger, which had her turning off the car, yanking on the door handle, and stepping out, unable to pull her eyes from the respectable neighborhood around her.

This was a mistake. Perhaps she had been wrong about the name. After all, Carly Thornton must have been a common name, like Jane Smith. She hesitated as soon as the thought hit her, though. After all her digging, following this cold trail, she knew that the last known location of her mother—scratch that, of the woman who’d given birth to her, was here. And how many people named Carly Jane Thornton, with the same birthdate, with a mother whose maiden name was Holloway, could be living on the island?

The records had huge gaps in time and a ton of inaccuracies, as if Carly didn’t want to be found, but then, with a father like Chase McCabe, who could literally find a needle in a haystack, Billy Jo had learned from the best.

She gave her door a shove closed and left it parked on the narrow street, hearing the sounds of the morning, sprinklers running and a dog barking. She put one foot in front of the other and started walking up to the driveway. The grass was carefully manicured and green even though most of the island was facing a water shortage, and the perennials and bushes appeared well cared for.

She fisted her hands, feeling the curiosity that had driven her building in the pit of her stomach again. Wearing sandals and faded green capris, she looped her baggy purse over her shoulder and took in the car in the driveway, a silver BMW, only a few years old. Everything about the house appeared pristine, neat and tidy, nothing like what she’d expected from an addict.

The inside door was closed, and the screen door was white. Her heartbeat kicked up as she tapped on it, and it rattled. She heard footsteps, feeling her rage building, a frown pulling at her lips. Her heart thumped once, long and loud, as the door opened, and she stared into blue eyes, dark hair, and a smile she hadn’t expected.

Hello. Can I help you?

It was her voice, soft. She didn’t appear that old, and she wasn’t much taller than Billy Jo, about five foot two. She pushed open the screen, and Billy Jo glimpsed inside the house behind her, seeing gleaming hardwood and nice furnishings, hearing voices and footsteps from what she thought was the kitchen.

I’m looking for Carly Thornton. My name is Billy Jo McCabe. I hope this doesn’t sound totally strange, but the searches I’ve done show that this house is where she lives.

The woman’s smile suddenly faltered, and she didn’t know what to make of her expression.

Are you Carly? Billy Jo finally asked.

You have the wrong house, the woman said. I’ve never heard of Carly Thornton. Who are you, anyway—a bill collector, a solicitor? The sign clearly says we don’t accept any here. She pointed to a sign by the door, No soliciting.

So she didn’t like strange people showing up. Billy Jo knew well when someone was uncomfortable, though. She could tell from the tension in her expression.

Carly, who’s at the door? a man called out.

Billy Jo heard his footsteps before he appeared behind the woman. About her dad’s age, he had dark hair and hazel eyes, and he smiled, holding a mug of coffee. His hand rested on the woman’s shoulder.

Oh, just someone who’s lost and looking for directions, is all, the woman said. Can you see that the girls finish breakfast and get ready for school? We’re running late already.

Billy Jo stood in silence, watching. The man was tall, solidly built, wearing blue jeans, a golf shirt, and a wedding ring. He looked over to her and back to the woman, and the two exchanged the kind of look a husband and wife shared. Don’t be long, then, he said. You said you had to leave earlier for the school meeting, and don’t forget we have the Davidson fundraiser tonight.

Then he stepped away from the door, and the woman angled her head to him and gave him a smile. As he walked away, though, and she dragged her gaze back to Billy Jo, her face was filled with the kind of unfriendliness she hadn’t seen in a long time.

So you are Carly? Billy Jo said, the heaviness inside her now building into a sick feeling.

Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but I asked nicely, the woman said. Please go away. I already told you that you have the wrong house. She actually stepped out and pulled the inside door closed quietly behind her, holding the screen so it wouldn’t slap closed.

Secrets and lies. She knew when someone was holding out on her. Billy Jo had to step back, really taking in this woman, who was of the same height and build as her. Her hair reached her shoulders, and she was dressed casually, much like Billy Jo. The panic and something else in her expression said she didn’t want Billy Jo asking about Carly Thornton.

I don’t know why you’re pretending you’re not her, Billy Jo said. "By your reaction, only a fool would miss that you’re hiding something. Let me tell you that finding you wasn’t easy. The trail was hidden and cold, and someone went to a lot of trouble to make it that way. I didn’t have a clue what I was going to say to you, but here it is. I was born twenty-five years ago in a small Nevada town, on June 15 th, to a meth addict. I spent my first few months being weaned off the drug. As a baby, I was difficult to care for, and I was in and out of the ER, being bounced