Two great mysteries

CHAPTER ONE

Please don’t leave me here.

Catherine Mans heard the whisper over the rustle of the leaves. He was here. She knew it, but her time to find him was running out. A heavy mist had begun to develop over the river, drifting up the ravine into the creek where she knelt beside the water. Her search for twenty-one-year-old Timothy Bond had led her to many ravines in the past two weeks. Her visions were confusing, pieces of jigsaw puzzles that seemed to fit—and not fit—every creek area surrounding the Kentucky River.
Letting the cool water flow over her hand, Catherine closed her eyes. She paid attention to the gentle force as it pressed against the barrier, allowing herself to connect with the emotions it contained. He’d been here. Walked this bank. Trudged through this water. And he’d never left.

“Catherine?”

She heard Cody’s unasked question and rose. “He’s here, Cody. I can feel it.”

“The fog is rising fast. I’m going to call off the search and bring everyone in.”
His voice held an edge of defeat bordering on disappointment. He’d followed her over snake-ridden banks, through shallow pools, and even into the river twice. She knew he ignored the ridicule of his fellow officers, but he couldn’t ignore the rising wind, misty rain, and fog swirling into ghostly clouds. Failure to call off the search would put everyone in danger.

Catherine turned back to the pool of water and stared into its murky depths. A vision of Mr. and Mrs. Bond appeared, arms wound around each other, eyes swollen and red, beseeching her. We know he’s dead, Ms. Mans, but we can’t sleep at night. Not until our boy comes home.

The not knowing was what aged you overnight, placing dark shadows beneath your eyes, deep-etched lines upon your face. The sorrow emanating from Mrs. Bond’s eyes had touched her in a way she hadn’t expected, opened the door to memories of things she’d worked hard to forget. Catherine touched the scar just above her right breast and wondered if her own mother had looked that way when Catherine had run away.
Catherine shook off the thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to think about her mother. Or the past. Nor was it the time to allow the frustration in Cody’s voice to discourage her. She knew he respected her abilities and believed in her. A smile played around her lips. A lot had changed in the six years since he’d knocked on her door and asked for her help in finding three-year-old Danny Wells. Cody had worked hard to become the head of the homicide division, and through his efforts, a special fund had been established to pay for Catherine’s consulting fees. She also knew his efforts were the reason that other departments had begun to call upon her for help. But the non-believers, the ridiculers, would always persist. Her ninety-eight percent success rate didn’t matter. The two percent failure was what everyone remembered.

A steady rain began to fall as the whisper reached her ears again. Please don’t leave me here.

“I won’t, Timmy,” she murmured, kneeling by the creek and closing her eyes again. Reaching out with her mind, she searched for the small thread of energy she knew was there somewhere.

“Catherine, we’ve got to go.”

“Go ahead and call off the search, Cody,” she answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m staying.”

A strange throbbing started deep inside her head, drowning out the words she knew Cody was saying. The scar on her chest burned, as if someone had suddenly poured gasoline on it and set her on fire. She stood up slowly, catching her breath against the fiery pain as her feet moved involuntarily, trudging into the cool water that swirled around her ankles. The pool deepened, reaching her waist. The swift current pushed her downstream on unsteady feet that no longer seemed to belong to her. A thick layer of fog surrounded her, until she could no longer see the opposite bank.

“Catherine, where the hell are you going?”

Cody’s voice sounded distant. She heard his radio crackle as he called out to the search team and his muffled oath as he splashed through the water, following her across the creek.

The throbbing subsided to a dull ache in the center of her forehead, but the scar continued to burn with fiery insistence, and her feet still moved against her will. The water became shallower, and her feet sank into mushy sand as she climbed the bank of the creek into an open field that led to a cliff overlooking the river.
The fog had dissipated here, and Catherine could see the edge of the cliff. A single oak tree stood outlined against the black clouds rolling across the sky. The jigsaw puzzle came together. The pieces started to fit. The pain subsided, but her feet continued to move, carrying her closer to the edge. She wanted to stop, but an unseen force kept her going until strong arms closed around her, jerking her backwards just as her feet slipped over the edge.

“Jesus, Catherine. What the hell are you doing?” Cody gasped between labored breaths.

“I don’t know. I was… I didn’t…” Catherine tried to clear the fog from her mind, grasping to explain what she didn’t understand herself. “Cody, the tree. It’s the same tree in my vision. He’s here. I know he’s here.”

“Okay. Okay. Give me a second.” Some of her excitement registered in his voice. The tree had been the one clue missing from all the other ravines.

The two crept slowly toward the edge of the cliff. A blanket of fog covered the earth thirty feet below, but they didn’t need to see through the fog. Less than five feet down, on a jutted outcropping, lay the remains of Timothy Bond.

Catherine stood near the edge, listening as Cody gave directions to the search team. A feeling of peace settled over her. She’d found him. “It’s time to go home, Timmy,” she whispered.

“Don’t get too close to the edge, Catherine.”

She didn’t bother to answer, as the wind chose that moment to switch direction and force her back from the edge. Catherine shivered as icy fingers raced down her spine. The sound of laughter echoed on the wind, followed by a whispered challenge: Find me.





PROLOGUE

Moonlight glinted off the scalpel.

Lydia moistened her lips and swallowed, flinching at the pain. Her throat was dry, raw from her screams.

“Please. . .” she whispered.

Thud, clink, thud, clink, thud, clink. The shovel dug in rhythm to the voice. The singsong rhyme.

“Dig the hole, dig it deep, give the worms something to eat. I like the livers and the hearts, the worms can have the other parts.”

Thud, clink, thud.

Tossing the shovel he knelt beside her, gently brushing the long blonde hair from her face. “Shh. . .,” he whispered.

Insane giggles filled the night as the scalpel slashed through bone and sinew.
The sapphire-blue eyes dimmed, fading as her body jerked and her lips parted.

“Please. . .,” she whispered.

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Reviewer says: Since my day job is an art teacher, I really enjoyed the inclusion and the art angle in this novel. The novel is based in Europe and the whole thing gave me the feeling of being whisked away on a mysterious trip - a great escape. There were also enough twists and turns to keep me reading and thoroughly engaged. I usually read books quickly, but read this one faster than usual as I had to learn the final outcome.

The writing is solid and I would rate this a darn good mystery. I would read another book by this author and hope he is working on something new.




I was raised with books - my grandfather ran a mobile library in Birmingham and my parents inherited a random selection of the books. They weren't much interested in them; the books were piled up in a box room, gathering dust. I would disappear in there and resurrect much used classics - Zane Gray 'Riders of the Purple Sage', H G Wells 'The Invisible Man', Charles Dickens 'A Tale of Two Cities' and more obscure stuff that I don't now recall. I was hooked.

There was gap, a long gap, until I was lucky enough to find an inspirational school teacher. He donated his own books to make a lending library in a stock cupboard off the classroom. Kids queued to borrow the books. Except these were the classics - Franz Kafka 'Metamorphosis' and 'The Trial', George Orwell '1984' and 'Animal Farm', Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn 'One Day In The Life of Ivan Denisovich', Ray Bradbury 'Fahrenheit 451', Boris Pasternak 'Dr Zhivago', Arthur Koestler 'Darkness At Noon', Vladimir Nabokov 'Pale Fire', Ken Kesey 'One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest', Aldous Huxley 'Brave New World'.............

I've been an avid reader ever since.

Interests

Writing. Jazz (Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, their modern day musical descendents). Writing about jazz. Science. Travel. Favorite places (in no particular order): Venice, Florence, San Francisco, San Diego, Boston, New York, London, The English Lake District, Lisbon, Crete.

Book Recommendation - Into Thin Air by Val Maarten

I started this book last night, and I'm only 25% into it, but doubt can seriously say I love this book. Maia, a young woman kidnapped into sex-slavery at a young age must now make a decision--fight for her life, and the lives of those around her, or die as those before her have.

I really like this young woman. She's forced to make decisions that most of us would never even dream of, and forced to live with the decisions she's made. Could you choose one life over anohter? And what would you do to save an innocent child from going through the pain, shame and degredation you have been forced to live with?

An amazing book by what I believe will soon be an author whose name you recognize.

I look forward to giving you a complete book review hopefully by tomorrow. I truly hate it when life gets in the way of the things I love--like finishing a great book and grabbing another one.

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The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery (Jacody Ives Mysteries) (Kindle Edition) tagged "action" 211 times | HEADLINE NEWS ONLINE | LATEST NEWS AND ARTICLES FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD | HEADLINE NEWS | CNN HEADLINES


Other Books by Linda S. Prather

Travel Around the World - And Never Leave Home

For one who reads, there is no limit to the number of lives that may be lived, for fiction, biography, and history offer an inexhaustible number of lives in many parts of the world, in all periods of time.
Louis L'Amour


Valerie Maarten - Florida Author

The Nation's Daughter - Set in Florida

Visit Val's Amazon Page and travel with her characters through Florida, Georgia and New York





Donna Montgomery Fasano - Delaware Author

Merry-Go-Round - Sterling, Delaware

Visit Donna's Amazon Page and travel with her characters to Maryland, VA, Delaware, New Jersey - Delmarva Peninsula






Linda S. Prather - Kentucky Author

Bet you can't...FIND ME
From the horse farms of Kentucky to the seductive pull of the Louisiana Bayou

Visit Linda's Amazon Page and travel with her characters to West Virginia, Virginia and North Dakota




Libby Hellmann - Chicago Author

Doubleback - Arizona and Wisconsin

Visit Libby's Amazon Page and travel with her characters to Chicago, Michigan, Armenia, Soviet Georgia and Iran






Mel Comley - British Author who lives in France

Impeding Justice - Throughout London and France

Visit Mel's Amazon Page and travel with her characters through London and France and on a Caribbean Cruise or Florida






Tania Tirraoro - British Author living in Farnham

Sweet Seduction - Surrey, UK

Visit Tania's Amazon Page and travel with her characters through Surrey






Jim Bronyaur - Pennsylvania Author

The Devil's Weekend - Pennsylvania

Visit Jim's Amazon Page and travel with his characters through Pennsylvania






Lia Fairchild - California Author

Finding Lucy - From L.A. to Texas

Visit Lia's Amazon Page and travel with her characters through Northern California






Barbara Silkstone - Florida Author

Wendy and the Lost Boys - From the Caribbean to a goat farm in Georgia then to Nevis Island and Nevisland

Visit Barbara's Amazon Page and travel with her characters from Miami to London





OR YOU CAN - TRAVEL OUT OF THIS WORLD

Catrina Taylor - Pennsylvania Author

In her debut novel, Catrina takes us to another world to build a new empire

GOODREADS - Great Reads - Greta Burroughs

Gerald and the Wee People
by Greta Burroughs (Goodreads Author)
4.50 • rating details • 6 ratings • 5 reviews
An Exciting Fantasy Novel That Takes You To Another World



Gerald and the Wee People is a novel intended for young adults but readers of all ages will get carried away in the world of the Wee People.

Gerald and his best friend, Vernon literally fell into a new world when responding to a plea for help. A few years prior to that, the boys had discovered an unusual clearing in the woods where only Gerald had the ability to watch the daily activities that took place in a miniature village.

When creatures started attacking the village, Gerald became more and more concerned about the little inhabitants that he had become attached to. Vernon humored his friend but became concerned when Gerald mentioned one of the villagers coming to him and asking for help.

To prove him wrong, Vernon agreed to venture out to the clearing late one night and show Gerald it was all in his imagination. Instead, Vernon was drawn into the enchanted vision and both boys charged off to the rescue.

While in the wee people village, Gerald and Vernon try to fulfill a prophecy overcoming many dangers and obstacles. The boys help the villagers in their fight against the misshapen ones while also trying to defeat a powerful being intent on destroying all life.

The characters in the book come to life and will make you laugh, cry and root for the underdog. Gerald and the Wee People is an action packed fantasy adventure that will keep you spellbound until the last page.


Greta Burroughs loves to read. No matter where she is, there is always a book close at hand. Her love of reading began at an early age and blossomed over time to include many different genres, her favorite now being fantasy.

As a preschool and elementary school teacher, Greta tried to instill the joy of reading in the children she worked with. Books were an important part of her classroom and story time was the highlight of the day.

It has been a while since Greta was in a classroom but she had lots of experience in reading to children of various ages and remembers what they enjoyed listening to. She tries to incorporate that knowledge into her work as an author and believes it makes her a better writer of children’s books.

The adventures in Patchwork Dog and Calico Cat were written several years before the book was published. The manuscript was put away while she concentrated on her career as a freelance journalist and before that in aviation education. When medical issues kept her from being able to work outside the home, the writing bug hit her and the old manuscript was dusted off, rewritten, illustrated and published.

Greta’s one nonfiction narrative, Heartaches and Miracles describes the roller coaster ride she has been on fighting an autoimmune disorder called ITP. She has also published a young adult fiction fantasy novel entitled Gerald and the Wee People and has plans to write a sequel to that called The House on Bo-Kay Lane. That is not the end of her literary itinerary; Greta has several other children’s book in mind for the future.

WHAT REVIEWERS ARE SAYING!

Easy reading and good, December 8, 2011
By Liz Fed - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Paperback)
If you like Harry Potter series and the Lightning Thief you will enjoy this book. Easy reading and enjoyable. The story of two boys and their journey with a village of wee people is intriguing. Come and join them in their adventure in saving the village.You wont put the book down. Help other customers find the most helpful reviews.

5.0 out of 5 stars Gerald and The Wee People, December 7, 2011
By HeyJude - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Kindle Edition)
I worked with Greta in the newspaper business and was her editor for several years. She has a great writing voice and when she tells a story you become part of it.
I loved her first book, Gerald and The Wee People, and read one of the first editions she received. This is a great book for young readers and many ages will enjoy this magical tale. I highly recommend it as a Christmas gift for children.
Greta is a great writer and I am so happy to see her fulfilling her dream and becoming an accomplished author. I cannot wait to read her newest book!
Once again, if you are buying a book for a young reader then look at this! A great book to read to your children and grandchildren. You will not be disappointed!

4.0 out of 5 stars Coming of Age, December 7, 2011
By D. Williamsen - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME) This review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Kindle Edition)
In "Gerald and The Wee People," Greta Burroughs speaks to the imaginations of young adults as she catapults Gerald and his best friend Vernon into another world, stretching their ability to believe what is happening. Beyond the strangeness of this new world, however, they soon realize that it mimics their own in many ways. The pettiness, the prejudices, the love, the caring--both the good and the bad exist in both worlds, all contributing to the drama in their lives.

Gerald and Vernon find themselves in a surprising position, one for which they feel ill-equipped, because the wee people are inexplicably depending on them to help defeat their enemy. In the course of fulfilling their destiny, the mettle of the two boys is tested to the point of breaking. In my opinion, this young adult fantasy novel can be especially viewed as a coming of age story for Gerald as his experiences among the wee people contribute to both his psychological and moral development.

Greta Burroughs has a soft spot for children, and it shows in the way she is able to write from their perspective. This story would be enjoyable for adults as well, at least those who still have a little child inside who's alive and well!

Reviewed by Dannye Williamsen, Breakthrough Bookstore

4.0 out of 5 stars Great Book, October 19, 2011
By Sue Owen - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Paperback)
I really enjoyed reading this book. The author took a few plot twists that I probably wouldn't have taken and when I read them I wondered how in the world that was ever going to work out but I have to say she surprised me every single time. I fell in love with the wee people and especially the far-seers. As far as I'm concerned they were the heroes here.

The world created by Burroughs was fantastic. I got lost a couple times with where the boundaries were but the story didn't really need them. As the group traveled the world just seemed to go with them. Still a bit unclear on that but I don't feel I've missed out on anything.

The plot was fun, the story believable, the outcome wonderful and the entire book was entertaining. I wouldn't mind coming back to visit the wee people once in a while and probably will!

5.0 out of 5 stars Cool things come in small packages, October 8, 2011
By Vixie UK "vixie666" (london, UK) - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Kindle Edition)
This book opens with Gerald trying to persuade his sceptical best buddy, Vernon, to go down to the woods to help the Wee People who he has been seeing in visions since they were at school. Like all good adventures, we have a character who believes & a character who disbelieves... even what he's seeing. This is a book that teens & adults will enjoy, I think. It's good for young readers and there is enough going on to keep adults interested. I like fantasy books where the author builds a new world for you to exist in for a while. This is an enjoyable read and there are a variety of characters here. There's also some morals and lessons to be learnt. Some characters grow, others... The interaction is good and the conversations natural. One of my favourites is the girl who is quite hot stuff - you'll have to read to find out who I mean. I like the ending - everything is tied up at the end, but there is a strand or two that can be picked up in book two, and I look forward to reading it.

5.0 out of 5 stars A wonderful fantasy, July 21, 2011
By Robert H Burroughs - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Kindle Edition)
Gerald and the Wee people is a wonderful fantasy novel originally meant for young adults but equally enjoyable by older readers. The plot is well developed,the characters are believeable and the dialog well written.
While walking in the woods Gerald and his friend Vernon accidently fall (literally) into the world of the Wee People who are engaged in a war with monstrous beings from the deep forest. Using modern thinking and making unique weapons the boys help the Wee People conquer the monsters and the evil forest god that controls them. A classic triumph of good over evil.
The book is not overlong and this is a good thing since once the reader begins it is difficult to put down. Two things that impressed me about "Gerald and the Wee People" are the total lack of scatalogical language and that it does not have a dark theme as in much of the current young adult fiction.
Robert F. DeBurgh.

4.0 out of 5 stars great adventure, June 6, 2011
By Mary Daugherty "author, writer, reviewer" (radcliff, kentucky) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME) This review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Kindle Edition)
In a clearing, in the dark woods, is a secret society of wee people and Gerald, with his friend Vernon, has just stumbled into a wee war. With wonderful imagery and imagination, Burroughs takes her readers into a magical world filled with terror, adventure and an unsuspecting hero.

Gerald and the Wee People is a book that brings the impossible to life and takes the reader right along with it into a battle that may mean death for the wee people. Without the help of Gerald, who doesn't even know how to help, and his best friend Vernon, all may be lost. With an "Alice in Wonderland" feel, Gerald is shrank down to wee size and is at the mercy of the attacking misshapen ones along with Sheela, Cian and Sean. Can Gerald save himself and his new friends or will they all cease to be.

This is a great story of courage, faith and friendship for any age. Young adults and more mature juveniles ( some violence) will enjoy the action and adventure that Burrough's characters bring to the reader. A pleasurable read and very talented writing make this book a winner. Makes me want to go look for the magic in my own back yard.

5.0 out of 5 stars What a pleasure!, June 2, 2011
By Alex Canton-Dutari (Panama City, Panama) - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Paperback)
I love fantasy, especially when it is laced with spices of reality. The adventure of Gerald and Vernon had me traveling from Lilliput to Oz, and even taking a pinch of primitive science. I never thought of someone else thinking about using old bread mold to elicit its antibiotic properties....
Ms Burroughs was able to create easy dialogues among almost familiar creatures, without messing my head with complicated names. This novel was a pleasure to read.

5.0 out of 5 stars A fascinating fantasy, highly recommended, September 11, 2010
By Midwest Book Review (Oregon, WI USA) - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Paperback)
It's hard to find help when people doubt who you're helping even exists. "Gerald and the Wee People" follows Gerald as he protects a village of small people who only he seems to be able to see and interact with. But Gerald's troubles only grow when he finds he alone can't protect him, and finding help seems so difficult. "Gerald and the Wee People" is a fascinating fantasy, highly recommended.

5.0 out of 5 stars Great Way to Escape to Another World, September 3, 2010
By Lady Wings (South Carolina, USA) - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Gerald and the Wee People (Paperback)
Gerald and the Wee People is a nice short book that is very easy to read and enjoy. It will captivate any aged reader who likes fiction, fantasy or adventure novels.
The world of the Wee People is a fascinating place to visit with characters that come to life. The quest the main characters undertake will keep the reader entertained until the last page.
Gerald and the Wee People is a great way to escape this world of stress and pressures; just relax and read a good story.



NOOK

SMASHWORDS

Excerpt - Sacred Secrets

Charity woke with another splitting headache. She struggled to sit up, her huge frame cramped in the tight space. Memory returning. He’d come back, made her lie down in the back of the jeep. Then he’d drove for what seemed like days. Made her get out, walk down steps. That was the last thing she remembered until now.

It was dark as a cave and smelled of mildew. Charity felt around in the dark, looking for something, anything to tell her where she was. Her fingers closed around what felt like a candle. Pulling it close she continued to feel blindly. Where there was a candle surely there had to be matches. God just wouldn’t be that cruel. Her fingers closed around the box. She shook it gently. One rattle. Okay, so she had one chance of getting light into this place. Did she really want to do that?

Charity chided herself for her cowardliness. What would Ms. Laveau think if she saw her, sitting here on the cold concrete shivering like a baby.
Opening the matchbox, she took out the single match, set the candle between her legs and steadied herself. Holding her breath Chastity issued a silent prayer before running the match along the side of the box. It sputtered, flickered--caught fire.
Charity swallowed the urge to laugh hysterically, the effort of holding her breath making her somewhat giddy. She held the candle to the flame, her hand trembling so badly she was afraid for a moment she’d drop them both. The candle caught, its flame casting eerie shadows around the small room.

Charity looked around her, her heart fluttering as reality closed in. She was in an old farm cellar. From the looks of it no one had been here for years. Tears formed, she bit her lip, steadied the candle. Her whispered words stirring fear into full blown terror. “Yous’ in trouble now, sugah. Yous’ done been buried alive.”

Excerpt - The Gifts - never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee

“Fire’s out, Sheriff. We opened the windows, but the smell is still pretty bad.”

Sarah nodded, her eyes misting. “Thanks, Billy.” Swallowing hard, she tried to stop the gagging reflex that hit her the second she entered The Lodge. There was nothing in the world worse than the smell of burned flesh. Tommy and three of the volunteer fire fighters were still outside vomiting, and Joshua looked slightly green, although he was holding up better than most. Dammit! They weren’t prepared for this. She wasn’t prepared for this.

“Are you okay, Doc?” Sarah noted the grayness of the doctor’s face, the blueness around his mouth as he slipped on his mask and nodded.

Sarah allowed her gaze to drift around the room, looking for something, anything to look at besides the badly charred body of what she knew must be Marisa Hutchins. They had caught the fire in time to save most of the room, but the body was burned beyond recognition. She swallowed hard again, concentrating on breathing through her mouth. She had to focus on her job, not her feelings. Her gaze fell on the small pink card on the dresser. Picking it up, she shivered as emotions ran up her arm, making her skin crawl, chilling her to the bone. Evil had its own special feel, and this was evil. A gift from me. You’re next.

“Anything on McAllister’s whereabouts?”

Sarah felt Joshua’s keen gaze on her face. She would have to look at him eventually. Struggling to control the overwhelming fear that threatened to pull her into the darkness, Sarah placed the card inside a plastic package and handed it to Joshua. She wanted a hot shower.

“He told me he was going to Richmond, but I didn’t ask where. Said he’d be back tomorrow.”

“I’m finished.” Doc Hawthorne rose, his shoulders drooping more than usual. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He’d delivered these children, watched them grow up. He shouldn’t have to sign their death certificates. “Not much more I can do here. I’d say it’s Marisa Hutchins. You can wait for the autopsy to make it official.”

Sarah grimaced. She didn’t need an autopsy.

“The Edgewood forensic team is on their way. Said they’d be here within the hour,” Joshua stated.

“Thanks, Joshua.” Sarah had hated calling in outsiders, but they just didn’t have the equipment, or the expertise, to handle this type of situation. Nothing like this had ever happened in Glade Springs. Gavin McAllister had a lot to answer for.

“What do you make of the card?”

Joshua was turning the package over in his hands. Sarah glanced at it, a cold chill running down her spine. . . . never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

“You’re next.” Joshua read the card out loud and glanced at Sarah. “Who do you think he means?”

“Not a clue,” Sarah lied. “We’ll run it through the system, see if anything like this has happened anywhere else.”

“Good idea.” Joshua hesitated, “Sarah, I think this card is for you.”

Sarah didn’t bother answering. She’d known the second she touched the card it was for her. You know, echoed in her mind.

“Joshua, stay here, lock it down and wait for Edgewood. Go ahead and do the photographs and sketches of the scene. I have to go tell the Hutchins.” Sarah knew her voice was quivering. She cursed silently at life’s cruel joke of giving her the ability to feel what others felt. She was having enough trouble controlling the pain and fear she’d picked up in this room. She didn’t know how she was going to handle the parents’ emotions.

“Sarah, why don’t you stay? I’ll go.”

Sarah met the concerned green eyes, not trying to disguise the pain in her own. “It comes with the territory, Joshua. It’s my job.”

“What do I do if McAllister shows up?”

Sarah considered her answer carefully. She knew Gavin McAllister hadn’t killed Marisa. The evil she’d felt in that room wasn’t attached to him. He could, of course, sue the city, but at the moment she didn’t give a damn. It wouldn’t hurt him to cool his heels for a couple of hours. And, dammit, he was partially responsible. If he hadn’t come here none of this would have happened. At least in jail he’d be safe and one less thing for her to worry about.

“Book him.”

Joshua nodded. Sarah was in charge. “The Hutchins are pretty religious people. Why don’t you call the new minister, have him meet you out there?”

“Bless you, Joshua. You always seem to know the right thing to do.”

“Comes with the territory, remember? It’s my job.”

Sarah exited The Lodge, her thoughts serious. Joshua would make a good sheriff. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about that when she left. She turned her thoughts to the new minister. She hadn’t had an opportunity to meet him or his wife. What was his name? Cooper. Picking up the cell phone, she automatically dialed the number and hoped it hadn’t been changed. How was she supposed to address him? Was it Reverend, Father, Pastor?

“Hello.”

“Mrs. Cooper?”

“Yes.”

“This is Sheriff Burns. I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to call on you and welcome you to Glade Springs, but I wonder if I could speak with your husband, please?”

“He’s asleep, Ms. Burns.”

Sarah frowned. No Sheriff Burns, and the Ms. Had been spoken with disapproval. It was apparent Mrs. Cooper didn’t believe in women sheriffs. She probably didn’t believe women should work at all.

“Could you wake him, please? It’s an emergency.”

“Oh, no, I could never do that. Never.” The voice had changed, a slight tremor just beneath the words.

Good Lord, she’s afraid of him, Sarah thought. What kind of minister instilled fear in his wife?

“Mrs. Cooper, I’m sorry, I’m a little upset, and I’m afraid I haven’t made myself clear. I know it’s late, but we’ve had a,” Sarah paused. “We’ve had a death in the community. The family is going to need him. Please put your husband on the phone.”

“I’ll have him call you in the morning.”

“Mrs. Cooper . . .”

The phone went dead. And people wondered why Sarah didn’t go to church. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in God; she just didn’t believe in organized religion. As usual, she was on her own.

A half hour later Sarah stood outside, breathing deeply in an attempt to control the tears streaming down her face as she waited for Doc Hawthorne. Thank God he’d been here. She should have known he would feel an obligation to do just that. He’d been there for thirteen years through every broken bone, every cough or late night fever. He wouldn’t desert them now.

Sarah watched his approach, realizing for the first time just how old he was getting. She’d ignored the Mayor’s ravings at the council meetings that they needed to start looking for a younger doctor, someone more up to date. How much longer could he last? And getting a doctor to come to a small town like Glade Springs wouldn’t be easy. Of course, there was always Edgewood. It was only a two-hour drive, but what about emergencies? The next time the mayor brought up the subject, Sarah would be more open-minded. Not a replacement, because no one could ever replace Doc Hawthorne. Maybe a partner.

“I gave Irene a sedative. She’ll sleep until morning.” His eyes never left Sarah’s face, the question left unspoken between them.

“Dammit, Jim, I can’t stop him if he wants to see her.”

Doc nodded. Edsel Hutchins wanted to see his daughter. “Call me when he comes in. I’ll be there.”

Sarah nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He would be there, sedative in hand. They both knew sedatives weren’t going to help Edsel Hutchins when he saw his daughter’s body. It was almost two a.m. and Sarah felt a desperate need to hold Nikki. To know she was safe. That, like sleep, was a luxury she didn’t have. It was going to be a long night.

#samplesunday Soul Retrieval

Sometimes I enjoy looking back at things I wrote years ago just for fun.  This one still makes me chuckle just a little.  Hope you enjoy a bit of Sunday humor.

Soul Retrieval

Prophetic. The things we say. The things we do. They all move us in a general direction, pushing us toward our final destination.

At ten a.m. this morning, Hon. Jeremiah Sed Mason had opened his mouth and sealed his fate.

Now here I was. Standing on a street corner. Waiting for fate to intervene. Destiny to arrive.

The cigarette tasted kind of strange. Not at all like I'd remembered them. The body was nice though. A real traffic stopper. Not like the last one. Seniority had its benefits.

"Hey, sweetheart, I've got a hundred bucks, if you know what I mean."

Tossing the cigarette I turned toward the voice. I knew exactly what he meant. I even knew who he was. George Chatman. By day a floundering accountant. Tonight a pawn in destiny's plans. He'd been standing across the street for over an hour trying to get up the courage to make this move. Problem was poor Gina had officially retired about ten minutes ago. Letting my gaze move slowly down the oversized, unattractive, virtually repulsive frame, I smiled slowly, coming back to the nondescript beady eyes. "Sorry, I'm busy."

Gina had a nice voice. Deep and rather sultry. She probably had a lot of repeat clientele. Undoubtedly she would be missed.

"Oh, I see, my money's not good enough for you."

Lighting another cigarette I took a deep drag, blowing the smoke in his direction. The taste might have changed, but the world hadn't. Still full of pompous jerks who believed that money was God and bought all things. I'd like to believe that even Gina would have turned this one down.

"That's right, sweetheart, your money isn't good enough, and neither are you."
I could feel the rage growing inside him. One too many rejections in a world full of rejections. And this time by a woman he considered low on the scale of humanity. Someone so beneath him that the mere possibility of rejection had never entered his mind. The beady eyes twitched, hands clenching and unclenching just as the red convertible pulled up to the corner and parked. Right on time.

"Hey gorgeous, you ready?"

Without even a glance at my would-be suitor I let those long, luscious legs carry me towards the car. Throwing in a little extra swing of the hips. After all, Gina had the package. I might as well work it.

I wasn't surprised when the bullets struck, but Jeremiah was. I liked the look of shock and pain that crossed his face right before his soul exited his body. Pain was something he would need to get used to.

Things happened rather fast. People screaming, rushing for safety. The police officer yelling at George to drop his gun. Which of course he did. Putz.
Pushing out of Gina's lifeless body I waltzed over to Jeremiah. Another benefit of seniority. I got to keep Gina's image until the next time.

"Let's go, Jeremiah," I stated in that deep sultry voice taking him by the arm.

"Where are we going? What happened? Are we dead?"

Always the same. "Don't you remember what you said this morning, Jeremiah?"

"What I said this morning?"

Some jerks were worse than others. "Yes, Jeremiah, this morning. When you signed those documents to let an innocent man take the fall for your good friend Judge Lehman. Don't you remember how the two of you laughed, and Judge Lehman asked you where you were going?"

I loved the look on his face as realization slowly dawned. I smiled. Gina's warm, sexy smile.

"You said, 'To hell if I don't change my ways'. "



Love mysteries with great plots and subplots that keep you guessing all the way to the end? Take a moment and download a sample of The Jacody Ives Mysteries or Catherine Mans Psychic Suspense. Not your cozy mysteries. Contains strong adult language and some graphic scenes, so be sure to check out the sample first.

Friday Excerpts and Teasers

For a limited time only you can purchase both for less than $5.00 - Nook, Kindle and Smashword.


THE GIFTS, A JACODY IVES MYSTERY

Setup: Sheriff Sarah Burns was born with what her grandmother calls “The Gift”. In the final throes of death, souls reached out to her with dying messages. Only this time the message was for Sarah.

“He’s coming, Sarah. He wants to destroy you.”




SACRED SECRETS, A JACODY IVES MYSTERY

Setup: Charity Froste is one of three women missing. A prostitute, a nurse and a voodoo woman (Charity). Two of them are already dead.

Charity looked around her, her heart fluttering as reality closed in. She was in an old farm cellar. From the looks of it no one had been here for years. Tears formed, she bit her lip, steadied the candle. Her whispered words stirring fear into full blown terror. “Yous’ in trouble now, sugah. Yous’ done been buried alive.”

The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery

Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery

The Jacody Ives Mysteries - Limited time only--get both for less than $5.00!

Have a Kindle? Now you can enjoy both the Jacody Ives Mysteries for less than $5.00.
The Gifts $2.99 and Sacred Secrets $1.99. Also available on Smashwords and B & N.



Excerpt From The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery

Sheriff Sarah Burns pulled off the road and parked near the site of Saturday night’s tragic accident. Unnatural deaths were rare in Glade Springs, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d missed something.

An image of Morgana Nelson clutching the body of her daughter, her heartbroken cry echoing through the morgue, flashed through Sarah’s mind.

Maybe it was only wishful thinking. The Nelsons were good people, and Johanna had been their only child. The accident made no sense. Johanna wasn’t the typical eighteen year old. She didn’t run off to Edgewood or Richmond after graduation, looking for a larger city and more excitement. She didn’t stay out late. She didn’t drive fast. She didn’t drink. So why had she been here, driving so fast she missed the curve? The toxicology reports weren’t in yet, but the body had reeked with the smell of alcohol. The Nelsons had questions, needed answers.

Climbing out of the Explorer, Sarah walked toward the curve as she closed out the noises around her, traveling the path Johanna had driven. Emotions were strong here. She could feel the sadness—and the anger. Johanna was upset.

Sarah moved into the curve slowly, feeling the shift in the emotions surrounding her. Panic took over, quickly turning to fear. She retraced the path the car had taken as it skidded off the road into the huge oak tree.

Crouching near the point of impact, she placed her hand on the earth and closed her eyes. For a brief moment she felt physical pain and then all emotions ceased.

Sighing, Sarah stood up. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to find. Let it go, Sarah, she chided herself. Some questions have no answers.

Heaving another sigh, Sarah started toward her vehicle. She was tired, looking forward to a quiet evening at home. Last night’s dream had upset her. All day she’d been haunted by the image of the dark brown eyes filled with pain, the heart-wrenching cry that had jerked her from an uneasy sleep. The whispered message that had kept her lying awake, trembling as she listened to the sounds of the night.

She hated the dreams. Hated the feeling of helplessness they created inside her as the dying reached out, sending messages to loved ones, or crying out for vengeance against their attacker. Only this time the dream had been different. This time the message was for Sarah.

Sarah shook herself mentally, pushing away the memories, the fear. It was just a dream. And this was just a horrible accident. Accidents happened—especially when teenagers drank. Her foot touched the passenger tire track imprinted in the soft earth near the tree. A feeling of panic clutched at her, growing stronger, making it hard to breathe.

“Jesus,” she muttered as she stepped away from the track, breathing deeply.

Kneeling, she touched the earth, holding her breath, as emotions flowed through her fingertips. Unlike the driver’s side, the panic here continued to escalate. There was no physical pain, no ceasing of emotion. This was what had been bugging her. The something missing. Johanna Nelson had died almost instantly, but she hadn’t died alone. Someone else had been in the car with her when she crashed into that tree.

Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery

Set up: Nurse Sally Morse realizes that something is wrong with Katie O'Connor's heart transplant. The doctors don't believe in cellular memory, but Sally does. Determined to find out why Katie woke screaming "take it out" Sally breaks hospital rules to find out more about Katie's donor.

Excerpt from - Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery

Sally Morse opened the file drawer slowly, avoiding the squeak that generally met her ears. She looked around nervously. She’d be fired if she were caught. But she had to know. She shivered as she remembered Katie’s screams. Screams Hollywood would have paid dearly for. The kind that raised the hair on the back of your neck, quickened your heartbeat. Screams of terror.

But it was the whispered words that perturbed Sally, made her pull the file from the drawer. It was more than a dream. And she didn’t care what Dr. Wagner thought, she believed in cellular memory.

Sally’s face burned, humiliation washing over her as she remembered Dr. Wagner’s scathing remarks.

It wasn’t her fault life hadn’t given her the perfect figure, gorgeous hair and a winning personality that doctors loved to fawn over. Instead she’d been cursed with stringy black hair, a bean pole frame that would never have curves no matter how much she ate, and eyesight that required thick lenses. The other kids had laughed at her. She’d grown up with the taunt of “raccoon eyes” forever imbedded in her brain, like bits of jagged glass. Cutting occasionally, just enough to make her miserable. Like now.

“Dammit, I’m a good nurse, and I care about people. That counts more than big boobs and a tight ass in my book.”

Sally hesitated a scant second before opening the file. What she was doing was wrong. A violation of her oath. Yet, there were times, like now, when she felt the oath was wrong.

Her hands started to shake as she fumbled with the clasp on the folder. Angry with herself, she jerked it open. She’d never been a coward, and she wasn’t going to start now. So what if she did get caught? Wasn’t Katie worth it?

Sally read the notes quickly. A priest? She breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t some psychotic maniac. What harm could a priest’s memories do? Still the absolute terror in Katie’s eyes, the whispered “take it out” made her read more. Suicide? Why would a priest commit suicide? “Because he did something unthinkable,” her mind whispered, causing her hands to shake even more as she closed the clasp, replaced the file in the cabinet.

Sally closed and locked the cabinet. She’d risked her career, but at least she had a starting point. Something she could look into, and maybe something she could help Katie with. Dr. Wagner was wrong. Something was wrong with Katie’s situation.

“Oh, crap,” Sally exclaimed, glancing at her watch. She was late for her meeting with Wagner. He’d be furious. Opening the door cautiously she scanned the hallway.
Sally locked the door, heading for the elevator at a quick pace. It was too quiet here. Almost like the morgue. Ominous. She turned once, hearing footsteps behind her, the soft sound of breathing. “Is someone there?”

Silence. Sally started walking again, this time her pace quicker. Reaching the elevator she pushed the button as she glanced over her shoulder down the hallway. She could see the shadow hidden within the shadows of the basement. There was someone there.

The ping of the elevator caused her to jump, but she quickly entered, hitting the button to close the doors. Only when the doors were completely closed did she dare to breathe. Pushing the button for the third floor she leaned against the wall, her thoughts frenzied. Why had someone been watching her? And even worse, why hadn’t they wanted her to know they were there?

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Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery

The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery

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Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery

The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery

Meet The Characters

Ms. Charity

Charity Froste closed her eyes. She could see the huge ugly bird as it descended. Red eyes glowing like the embers of fire. Snow white fangs that devoured everything in its path.

The wind howled, shrieked and sent forth blood-chilling screams. Tree limbs slapped and scraped the sides of the house, like the huge bird’s dagger-like talons.

The bones never lied.

Charity tossed the fossil stones, her eyes still closed. She would not easily be devoured. The white fangs, red eyes and razor sharp talons of the Piasa held no fear for her. She had faced it before. She feared little beyond the balance. And the balance had shifted. Billy had called the white wolf, weaved the dreams, and she had done what she had to do.

A distinct chill blew across her nape.

She opened her eyes, studied the bones. The bones never lied.


Billy

Coming into another curve Billy shifted his right foot, letting off the gas pedal, allowing the vehicle to gradually slow. His gaze drifted to the leather satchel on the seat beside him. His destiny. His grandfather had been so proud when he’d killed the buck. They’d worked side by side for days as his grandfather explained every stitch, each design, so that one day Billy could make the satchel for his own grandson. Pass on the gift.

He’d been too young to understand why his grandmother had turned away from him, hands clenched at her side, eyes brimming with tears. She had known. Even then she had known this day would come.

Father Michael

Father Michael sighed, placing his hand over the knotted arthritic joints of Father Peter’s fingers. “I have prayed, Father. I pray daily that God will take this cup from me.”

Father Peter felt the trembling in the hand covering his. Felt the despair. His words came unbidden. Words he knew not the source. Words he would ponder and regret in the days to come.

“Perhaps you must take the cup and drink from it.”

Father Michael embraced him. He had the forlorn feeling of being alone in the world. And that loneliness threatened to crush him. He whispered the words that sealed his fate. “Perhaps, Father. Perhaps I must.”


Claire

Claire felt her steps falter, a cold chill moving down her spine, descending down her legs. He sounded so smug. So sure of himself. Pretending to care. She wasn’t going to fall for his tricks. Not this time. And never again. They had been fine without him. Fine until he came back into their lives. Somehow this was his fault. She didn’t know how, but she knew Simon was behind Aaron’s unhappiness.

Claire refused to look at him. Give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d struck a nerve. She stood, hand poised over the doorknob. “You don’t know when to quit do you, Simon. You never understood Aaron, and you never will. Even at one in a million he’ll match. Katie O’Connor is one in a million. Don’t you go near Aaron again, and you stay the hell away from me.”


Katie

Katie wrung her hands in her lap as the intern took another curve, maneuvering the car onto the main highway at a rate of speed that was surely against the law. Everything was moving so fast. The tearful goodbye with Clover. The trip home. She had barely gotten unpacked before exhaustion overcame her. She’d slept most of yesterday, and then the phone had rung. Now the mad dash to the hospital. What exactly had Dr. Wagner said? We may have found you a heart. And what did that mean anyway? Was it possible that someone was dying as they rushed to the hospital? Could they maybe live? Had she truly gotten a pardon from death row, or was this some cruel joke of the executioner.



Clover

“Don’t go getting all happy on me, okay? I’m dying. You’re dying. That gives us something in common. It doesn’t make us best friends. In fact, if you look at it realistically it makes us pretty pathetic. We should be doing something absolutely amazing like diving to the bottom of the ocean, bungee jumping off the tallest building, or getting boinked by some good looking guy.” Clover paused for breath, swallowed hard and stated through gritted teeth, “Instead we’re just sitting here on death row.”


Jacody

Jacody Ives smiled, flexed the fingers still gripping the sink. Evil attracts evil. He’d heard its call in the nightmare. He would answer. There’d never been any other choice for him. Evil knew his name.


Tall Feather

The old man cackled, gumming away on another piece of bacon. “I tell you story.”
Tall Feather made himself comfortable on the couch, rubbing his greasy hands on the fabric.
“I, too, at times have a great hatred for those who have taken so much with no sorrow for what they do. But hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy.
“It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times.”



Synopsis with spoiler removed

Haunted by dreams he couldn't control of murders he couldn't stop, Gavin McAllister a/k/a Jacody Ives teamed up with his adopted brother and his brother's partner to find an elusive killer the papers had termed the Mother's Day Killer. For five years they'd followed a trail of bodies across the United States finding no clues to help in their pursuit. But this time the killer had made it personal not only by choosing his last victim in Gavin's hometown, but the evidence showed the same killer had murdered Gavin's twin sister, Corrine Larson.

Corrine Larson was a noted journalist in search of a story. No one knew what, or where until Gavin received a post card shortly after her death followed by a ghostly visit from his sister, begging him to save someone.

Faced with the mental breakdown of his adopted brother, and the sure knowledge that the killer had already chosen his next victim, Gavin travels to Glade Springs, West Virginia. A small town with secrets. Some worth killing for. There he meets the beautiful Sheriff Sarah Burns and her five year old daughter, Nikki. It doesn't take him long to figure out that Nikki has been chosen for the killer's next victim.
As the small town's secrets slowly unravel Gavin realizes he will have to break every rule he's set for himself if he's going to stop the killer. He would have to get involved, and he would have to get close to the beautiful Sheriff if he was going to protect her and her daughter.

Sarah Burns also was born with what her grandmother called "The Gift". Sarah knew in reality it was a curse. What good was it to be psychic and dream of murders if she could do nothing to stop them? Only this time the dreams were for her. A ghostly vision with spine chilling words "He's coming, Sarah. He wants to destroy you." The news that Gavin McAllister was coming to Glade Springs only served to add validity to the dream. McAllister a/k/a Jacody Ives was famous for uncovering secrets, and destroying lives. And Sarah had secrets. Secrets worth killing for. To protect her daughter Sarah must overcome her fears and learn to trust again.

Teaming up with Gavin and her deputy, Joshua Cross, they three must work together to unravel the meanings of Gavin's and Sarah's dreams to stop the brutal murder of Gavin's adopted brother and his FBI partner, Carl Jackson.


Both books are available on Amazon, Nook, Sony, Kobo, Diesel and Smashwords. Download a sample today and ENJOY!

Ripple In Time - WIP Part 2

I haven't decided exactly what I'm going to do with this. Short story, novella or novel. Ideas are running rampant and I hope to really get started on it this week.
Hope you enjoy.

Part 2


Fumbling with the doorknob she finally got it open and sprinted across the room to Casey's bedroom, turning the handle and pushing. The door wouldn't budge. "Casey!" Valerie pounded on the door, continuing to push.

"What?" Casey pushed the chest away from the door and opened it a crack. "Jesus, Val, it's only four a.m. I knew you wanted to get an early start but this is…" Casey took a good look at Val's face, noting the paler than usual complexion, as well as the tears streaming down her face. Pushing the chest completely out of the way she opened the door. "What's wrong?"

Valerie struggled to bring her breathing back to normal. "I heard a scream. I thought. . ." She couldn't finish the sentence, instead she reached out and pulled

Casey into a tight embrace. "I thought he'd killed you."

Casey broke the embrace. "Who, that sweet little old man you rented this place from?"

Valerie had the decency to flush. "Okay, so he gave me the creeps too. But I did hear voices and then there was this horrible scream."

Sighing, Casey knew she wasn't going to get back to sleep so she headed for the kitchen and a fresh pot of coffee. "Maybe it was your lady in white?"

Valerie perked up at the idea, but immediately discarded it following Casey into the kitchen. "Ghosts don't usually talk in groups, and I've never heard one scream like that."

Casey filled the coffee pot and turned it on taking two cups down from the cabinet. "You're always telling me that it's an unknown phenomena. How do you know ghosts don't scream like that?"

Valerie pondered the question for a moment. She couldn't be sure, but it sounded human. Too human. "Well, I'm going to ask Mr. Jenson if there's anyone else around here, and if there is we're going to get at least part of our money back."

Casey chuckled, and shook her head. "We stole this place as it is, Val. Two hundred dollars for a full month? I expected it to be run down, poorly furnished and a real dump. Instead it's clean, and the furniture looks almost new. Where else could we find a deal like that?"

Casey's words sunk in and Val felt the hairs rise along the back of her neck. What had she been thinking when she'd read the brochure? "Yeah, where else could anyone get a deal like that?" She whispered.

# # #

Grabbing her easel, canvas and paints Valerie headed to the clearing at first light. Two pots of coffee and daylight had gone a long way in dispelling her earlier fears. It really was beautiful here, and she couldn't wait to start painting.

At least Mr. Jenson hadn't lied about the clearing. Setting up her easel and canvas Valerie walked around the clearing, getting a feel for the place. She had the feeling something had stood here in the past. Perhaps another cabin. The grass was lush and green as if tended by some unknown hand. The forest closed it off in a perfect circle.

Returning to the easel she prepared her pallet and picked up a brush. "Okay, guys. Show me what you want me to see."

Valerie knew she often tranced out when painting and hours passed like minutes. Still she was surprised when she looked around and noticed the deepening shadows and sun disappearing below the horizon. Where had the day gone? Standing back she looked at the canvas and frowned. She recognized the clearing, but there was definitely something new there. A huge stone occupied the center. More disturbing though was the water-like ripples flowing from left to right. The painting was ruined. Sighing she packed up and headed back to the cabin. Casey was just coming out the front door as she trudged up the porch.

"Hey, I was just coming to look for you. I had to cook supper again and it was your night."

Valerie shrugged, mumbling as she passed her. "Sorry, I lost track of time."
Casey followed her into the cabin. "You better put something on that sunburn. What happened anyway?"

Tossing the painting into her bedroom, Valerie put her easel and paints away before coming back to the living room and flopping on the couch. "Bad paint, I guess. A total day wasted."

"I doubt that. You only buy the best paint. Let me have a look." Casey picked up the discarded painting, frowning as she noted the ripple effect. "Is this the clearing you were in?"

Valerie nodded. "With the exception of the rock in the middle."

Casey looked closer. "That's not exactly a rock, you know."

Valerie joined her looking closer. "Looks like a rock to me."

Casey gave her a condescending look. "You really need to get out more. It's an altar."

"Altar? What kind of altar? And what's for dinner?" Valerie took the painting and propped it against the wall. Maybe it wasn't a wasted day after all.

"Looks like a sacrificial altar to me, and we're having franks and beans."

Valerie grimaced. "We had franks and beans last night."

Casey grinned. "Maybe tomorrow night you'll cook."

Excerpt- The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery

Sheriff Sarah Burns pulled off the road and parked near the site of Saturday night’s tragic accident. Unnatural deaths were rare in Glade Springs, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d missed something.

An image of Morgana Nelson clutching the body of her daughter, her heartbroken cry echoing through the morgue, flashed through Sarah’s mind.

Maybe it was only wishful thinking. The Nelsons were good people, and Johanna had been their only child. The accident made no sense. Johanna wasn’t the typical eighteen year old. She didn’t run off to Edgewood or Richmond after graduation, looking for a larger city and more excitement. She didn’t stay out late. She didn’t drive fast. She didn’t drink. So why had she been here, driving so fast she missed the curve? The toxicology reports weren’t in yet, but the body had reeked with the smell of alcohol. The Nelsons had questions, needed answers.

Climbing out of the Explorer, Sarah walked toward the curve as she closed out the noises around her, traveling the path Johanna had driven. Emotions were strong here. She could feel the sadness—and the anger. Johanna was upset.

Sarah moved into the curve slowly, feeling the shift in the emotions surrounding her. Panic took over, quickly turning to fear. She retraced the path the car had taken as it skidded off the road into the huge oak tree.

Crouching near the point of impact, she placed her hand on the earth and closed her eyes. For a brief moment she felt physical pain and then all emotions ceased.

Sighing, Sarah stood up. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to find. Let it go, Sarah, she chided herself. Some questions have no answers.

Heaving another sigh, Sarah started toward her vehicle. She was tired, looking forward to a quiet evening at home. Last night’s dream had upset her. All day she’d been haunted by the image of the dark brown eyes filled with pain, the heart-wrenching cry that had jerked her from an uneasy sleep. The whispered message that had kept her lying awake, trembling as she listened to the sounds of the night.

She hated the dreams. Hated the feeling of helplessness they created inside her as the dying reached out, sending messages to loved ones, or crying out for vengeance against their attacker. Only this time the dream had been different. This time the message was for Sarah.

Sarah shook herself mentally, pushing away the memories, the fear. It was just a dream. And this was just a horrible accident. Accidents happened—especially when teenagers drank. Her foot touched the passenger tire track imprinted in the soft earth near the tree. A feeling of panic clutched at her, growing stronger, making it hard to breathe.

“Jesus,” she muttered as she stepped away from the track, breathing deeply.

Kneeling, she touched the earth, holding her breath, as emotions flowed through her fingertips. Unlike the driver’s side, the panic here continued to escalate. There was no physical pain, no ceasing of emotion. This was what had been bugging her. The something missing. Johanna Nelson had died almost instantly, but she hadn’t died alone. Someone else had been in the car with her when she crashed into that tree.