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Laine Tavish is an ordinary woman living an ordinary life in the small town of Angel's Gap, Maryland, as the proprietor of Remember When, an antique treasures and gift shop. At least, that's what everyone in Angel's Gap thinks. They have no idea that she used to be Elaine O'Hara, daughter of the notorious con man Big Jack O'Hara. Or that she grew up moving from place to place, one step ahead of the law . . .
Laine's past has just caught up with her, though-in a very dramatic way. Her long-lost uncle suddenly turned up in her shop, leaving only a cryptic warning before dying in the street, run down by a car. Soon afterward, her home is ransacked. Now it's up to Laine, and a sexy stranger named Max Gannon, to find out who's chasing her, and why.
The answer lies in a hidden fortune-a fortune that will change not only Laine's life but also the lives of future generations. And danger and death will surround that fortune for years to come. Until New York City detective Lieutenant Eve Dallas gets on the case.
A thrill-ride of a novel that blends present-day romance and futuristic suspense, Remember When is a tale of deceit and secrets, of strong women and fascinating men-a brilliant combination of the incomparable talents of the two sides of Nora Roberts.
her sparkling feathers. She kept them locked away in a vault—in the dark—such a pity. What’s the point in locking all those beauties away, after all, where they only wait to shine again? She kept a house in Mayfair, guarded like Buckingham bloody Palace. I did the job solo, just to see if I could.” She knew she shouldn’t be amused, but she couldn’t help it. “Bet you could.” “You win. Christ, what a rush. I think I was twenty, and still I remember—remember exactly—what it was to take those
looks, and stayed there.” He’d gotten another bagel while he spoke, and more coffee. Now he sat again. “I could track her, if you like. It’d take a bit more than a standard, and some time as we’re going back half a century. I wouldn’t mind it. It’s the sort of thing I find entertaining.” “Why isn’t it in the book?” “I imagine you’ll ask Samantha just that.” “Damn right. It’s a thread.” She considered it as she disbursed her equipment in various pockets: communicator, memo book, ’link,
door and down the walk. Laine released Henry’s seat belt and waited for her friend to open the passenger door. “Hi, Henry! There’s my best guy, there he is. Vince is waiting for you.” “I owe you,” Laine said as Henry raced madly for the house. “Do not. Late date, huh?” “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” Jenny leaned in as far as her belly would allow. “Are you kidding me?” “Yes. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Just do me one more favor?” “Sure, what?” “Pray, really hard, that there’s something
before she’d shut the front door. “What the hell are you doing here?” “I said you’re in trouble. Maybe I brought some of that trouble along with me, maybe it was already here. But either way, I’m keeping an eye on you, whether you like it or not.” “I learned how to take care of myself about the same time I learned how to run a three-card monte scam. So the only watchdog I need is Henry.” As Henry was currently trying to climb a tree in pursuit of a squirrel, Max merely gave the dog a baleful
smile and wandered over. “What can you tell me about this piece?” “Oh, that’s a fun piece, isn’t it? Chess table, circa 1850. British. It’s penwork and ivory-inlaid ebony. Excellent condition.” “It might work in our game room.” She looked at her husband. “What do you think?” “A little steep for a novelty piece.” All right, Laine thought. She was supposed to bargain with the husband while the wife looked around. No problem. “You’ll note the double spiral pedestal. Perfect condition. It’s