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"Think so?"
"Know so." She started for the water, her bra drifting down to rest on the pebble beach. "You just gotta be able to keep up."
"Oh, I will. You know I will."
He watched her walk into the water and waited until he got that first glimpse of her diving into the surf, the flip of her sealskin skirt before she disappeared under the water. Time to find a place to spy from. Just as soon as he grabbed his camera. He did have a scrapbook to fill.
Rituals
Coming August 2017
Yes, this is a first glimpse at the first draft opening chapters to the next book, Cainsville 5.
If you haven't read Betrayals yet, stop now!
Seriously, stop now. Come back. It'll still be here
Rituals
Ca
insville 5 sneak peek
One
When I saw the ambulances parked outside the burning farmhouse, I thought there was still hope. That Detective Pemberton was wrong, and we hadn't lost the only witness who could set my father free after twenty years in prison for murders committed, instead, by my mother.
I saw the old house in flames, smoke filling the night air, and that ambulance with its lights still flashing. As Gabriel pulls the Jag to the side of the country lane, I leaned back in the seat and exhaled in relief. We weren't too late. After six months, we've finally found our key witness, and that fire meant she'd be in no shape to run again.
And that's when they brought out the stretchers. With body bags.
"Maybe it's not Imogen," I said.
We walked toward the burning house. I surveyed the personnel on duty, chose my target and picked up speed as Gabriel fell back. We were almost an hour outside Chicago, and the police on the scene were state troopers, but that didn't mean they wouldn't know Gabriel, at least by his reputation. As one of the city's most notorious defense lawyers, that reputation did not endear him to anyone with a badge.
I approached a young officer left guarding the perimeter.
I extended my hand. "Liv Jones," I said. "We've been looking for one of the women renting this house. Imogen Seale. She's a material witness in a multiple homicide."
The trooper peered at me with a Don't I know you from somewhere. But it was dark and smoky and tonight I was just Liv Jones. No relation to Olivia Taylor-Jones, former debutante daughter of the Mills & Jones department store owner. Certainly no relation to Eden Larsen, daughter of the notorious serial killers, Todd and Pamela Larsen.
"Hope she wasn't a valuable witness," the trooper said.
"Kind of," I said with a wry smile. "I'm guessing my contact was right, then. She didn't survive."
"Pronounced DOA," she said. "Her mother fell asleep smoking on the sofa. You really think people would know better. If you have to smoke, at least invest in an alarm."
"Aren't they mandatory?"
"In old rentals like this, no one checks until something happens. A fifty-dollar investment could have saved two lives."
"And chance I can see the bodies?" I asked. "If she's definitely gone, I need to move fast in another direction."
"I hear you," she said and waved for me to follow. "And I hate to see a killer walk free. Especially a multiple murderer."
Mmm, yeah, sorry, but actually, if we win this one, we do set a multiple murderer free. It's a package deal--getting my father out means freeing my mother, too.
As we walked, Gabriel fell in beside me. When the trooper glanced at him, I said simply, "My colleague," and she said, "Organized crime?"
