Caught in the Middle (Amhearst Mystery Series #1) [NOOK Book]

Overview

A murder lands reporter Merry Kramer the biggest story of her life. But will she become the killer's next victim?

Things like this just don't happen to real people, she thought. But Merry Kramer is new in town—and has yet to discover what hides behind the smiling faces of the residents of Amhearst, PA. As a staff reporter for a local newspaper, Merry finds the job contrasts incredible: as shocking as finding a body one night . . . as routine ...
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Caught in the Middle (Amhearst Mystery Series #1)

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Overview

A murder lands reporter Merry Kramer the biggest story of her life. But will she become the killer's next victim?

Things like this just don't happen to real people, she thought. But Merry Kramer is new in town—and has yet to discover what hides behind the smiling faces of the residents of Amhearst, PA. As a staff reporter for a local newspaper, Merry finds the job contrasts incredible: as shocking as finding a body one night . . . as routine as writing a human interest story on a local artist the next day. But when another death is discovered, suspicion begins to dawn . . . and seemingly inconsequential choices forge a link that makes Merry the next target. Merry realizes she knows something the murderer wants to keep hidden. The question is, what? The next question is, can she survive long enough to find out?

Author Biography: Gayle Roper is the author of almost 30 books, including Caught in the Middle and Caught in the Act, books one and two in the Amhearss Mystery series. She has been reading and writing mysteries for years. A member of Mystery Writers of America and former director of the St. Davids Christian Writers Conference, she speaks at women's events and writers' conferences all over the country. Roper lives with her husgband and two children in southeastern Pennsylvania.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781426843983
  • Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
  • Publication date: 7/1/2007
  • Series: Amhearst Mystery Series , #1
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 256
  • Sales rank: 127,902
  • File size: 182 KB

Meet the Author

Gayle Roper has always loved stories, and as a result she's authored more than forty books, most recently See No Evil (Love Inspired Suspense, Feb 2007). Gayle has won the Romance Writers of America's RITA Award for Best Inspirational Romance and has been a repeat finalist in both the RITAs and the Christy Awards. Several writers' conferences have cited her for her contributions to writer training.

She enjoys speaking at writers' conferences and women's events, reading and eating out. She adores her kids and grandkids and loves her own personal patron of the arts, her husband, Chuck.

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Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

It was a dark and sleety night," I muttered as I slid behind the wheel and slammed the car door, grateful to have reached protection without drowning. I tossed my briefcase onto the seat and shook the water out of my rain-frizzed hair.

"Merrileigh Kramer, what have you done?" my mother had asked in horror when I'd had my waist-length hair drastically cut at summer's end on the new-look, new-person theory.

I'd looked in the mirror and wondered the same thing myself. I hadn't cut my hair, except for its annual split-ends trimming, since ninth grade. For a woman who hated change, I'd done a very drastic thing when I entered that beauty parlor. And it had only been step one.

Now my hand bounced on my curly mass like a kid on a trampoline. I sighed and reminded myself that it'd grow eventually. The only trouble was that I had to keep it curly until it grew. I didn't know what else to do with it.

I eased my way across the parking lot, uncertain how slippery the millions of needles of icy rain had made things. The others who had been attending the Wednesday evening Board of Education meeting with me moved just as slowly. What had begun as a cold, nasty rain had turned to sleet when we weren't looking.

When it was my turn to pull out onto the road, I stepped slowly on the gas. The wheels spun for an instant on the thin layer of ice, then grabbed hold.

I hated ice. Every time I drove on it, I thought of my mother and the winter's day in Pittsburgh years ago when she had been driving me and four friends home from Brownies. I remembered the terrifying spin across the other lane and the oncoming cars scrambling to avoid us. I remembered the thud of our car as it hit a utility pole. I still felt my heaving stomach and tasted the fear. Mostly I remembered the screams and my mother's white face and the blood from the bashed noses. The fact that no one had been badly hurt then did not ease my fluttery heart tonight.

I drove carefully, watching for trouble. At Manor Avenue and Lyme Street I detoured slowly around a pair of cars half blocking the intersection as they sat with their left headlights locked together. Their drivers stood in the rain doing a good imitation of their cars, noses mere inches apart.

I couldn't help grinning at them, but I gripped the wheel more tightly. My heart throbbed in my temple.

With relief I turned onto Main Street where traffic was moving more quickly, keeping the road from freezing. When I passed The News office, the lights were still on, and I felt a surge of belonging. I beeped my horn in greeting to whoever was working so late. Don, my fearsome editor? Mac, his lecherous but charming assistant? Larry, the sports guy?

Tomorrow Don would bestow upon me the honor of writing a story about the first ice storm of the season. I knew it. Such stories were favorite ploys of editors, and as new kid on the block, I was certain to get the assignment.

I'd had worse. At least there'd be plenty of material in the police report about all the fender benders. Between the ice storm and the Board of Education meeting, I'd be plenty busy before morning deadline. Then I had scheduled the interview with that local artist. Variety, to be sure.

I turned onto Oak Lane and felt the wheels slue.

Hang on, I told myself. You're almost home.

I took my foot off the gas, gritted my teeth, and proceeded slowly between the rows of cars parked against each curb.

Suddenly a car on my right roared to life like a lion scenting its prey. Without looking, it sprang from its parking spot, barely leaving the paint on my fender. I instinctively did exactly what I'd always lectured myself about not doing. I hit the brakes hard on ice.

Of course I went into an immediate skid. My headlights raked across the offending car as it pulled away, briefly revealing a man, hat pulled down over his eyes, collar up against the weather, staring intently ahead, completely unaware of me or anything else.

My stomach became mush and my heart thumped wildly in my ears as I skidded helplessly toward a new blue car parked on the left. I whipped my wheel into the skid just like everyone said you should, but still the shiny blue door panels with their navy-and-red racing stripes rushed at me. My headlights blazed on the chrome; the black windows loomed darkly.

But my real terror was for the man who had suddenly materialized at the front bumper of the blue car, standing like a pedestrian waiting for a clear path to jaywalk. I had no idea where he'd come from.

"Please, God, don't let me hit him!" I was a Brownie again, panic-stricken.

His features were indistinct through the rain-washed window, but I could see the O of his mouth as he saw me rushing toward him. He turned to run.

I closed my eyes involuntarily against the crash, shoulders hunched, face screwed up in apprehension. I was probably screaming, but thankfully I don't remember. Screaming has always struck me as a sign of weakness, and I like to imagine that I react with style even when I'm afraid. And I was afraid.

After a very long, slow-motion moment, my car shuddered to a silent halt. I cautiously opened my eyes and found myself mere inches from the blue car's front fender, the two cars neatly side by side and too close together for my door to open. I could not have parked so well had I tried.

I slid across the seat and flung open the far door. I didn't think I'd hit the man I had neither heard nor felt a thump but I had to make sure he wasn't crushed beneath my wheels. I pressed a hand against my anxiety-cramped abdomen and climbed into the downpour.

The man wasn't lying broken on the road. In fact, he wasn't anywhere, lying or standing, broken or whole. He had completely disappeared.

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Customer Reviews

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Sort by: Showing all of 12 Customer Reviews
  • Posted January 29, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Don't look at the ending!

    Mystery authors will hate me. I am the type of reader that will look at the end of the book. But take it as a compliment! It means I am enjoying the book so much that I want to know the ending now! And I did enjoy Caught in the Middle, the 1st book the Amhearst Mysteries series. Merry Kramer is an ideal heroine who wants independence and to become a reporter for the local paper. However that's all interrupted when she opens her car trunk and finds a dead body on top of her Oreos and soda. When the mayor turns up dead the next day, Merry soon finds her life being threatened. The book gives readers a ride of twists and turns as you try to figure out who's behind everything. And yes I was surprised with the ending. This was a very well written mystery with a strong female character. The end of the book leaves you hanging. Recommended for any grown up Nancy Drew fan.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 29, 2013

    This is a Must Read!

    Shock full from the first page, I couldn't put it down. This book has it all! Mystery, comedy, suspense and the best in Christian romance. Will Merrile!igh Kramer discover the murderer before they get her? Will she learn to trust the tall stranger who readily risks his life for her? First in a series you will love from the first page! Just one final word-read it!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
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