Samantha Williams’s carefully crafted life is about to be demolished as thoroughly as her art classroom when a careening SUV smashes into the school.
After a difficult childhood, Samantha Williams craves simplicity: jigsaw puzzles, lectures at the library, and the students she adores in her role as an elementary school art teacher in the dusty farming community of LaCrosse, Washington.
But when an SUV crashes into the building where she teaches, her entire world is upended. Samantha manages to keep the children safe, but her car isn’t so lucky. Oddly, her purse—with her driver’s license, credit cards, and other identification—is missing from the wreckage forcing her to rely on the kindness of strangers. Never one to trust easily, Samantha is thrust into a world far different from her simple life of jigsaw puzzles, children’s books, and lectures at the library.
One of the strangers who befriends her is a reporter from Spokane who is in town investigating two sets of skeletal remains that were recently discovered. When authorities discover that the driver in the school accident was shot before the crash, Samantha quickly becomes enmeshed in strange events, which turn ominous with the discovery of blackmail, murder, an abandoned town, and a secret government project.
Those involved are determined to keep these secrets buried, and they’ll use any means necessary to stop Samantha’s search for truth.
FALLOUT by Carrie Stuart Parks is an intriguing Christian suspense/mystery book featuring a small-town art instructor who must face the past she is running from to be able to stop a murderer. This is a standalone inspirational suspense/mystery with just a touch of romance.
Samantha “Sam” Williams is a protagonist who has survived a terrible past, does not trust easily, but has endearing quirks. I loved her habit of quoting from famous children’s authors and books, especially Dr. Suess’ “The Sneeches”. Dr. Dustin “Dutch” Van Seters is recovered from PTSD, works with Sam to solve the mystery of the skeletal remains, uncover her past and is the tie into Clan Firinn, which is a Christian faith compound that offers hope to law enforcement and other first responders suffering from PTSD and related disorders. Both worked well together and were fully fleshed protagonists.
The suspense plot starts off with a bang, but then bogs down for a while with all the many threads of past and present that are used. It does pick up once motives begin to be sorted and ends with an exciting climax. The forensic art inclusions and the historical element of the Hanford site were both interesting. The inclusion of biblical quotes and Sam and Dutch’s religious beliefs were paced realistically throughout the plot and never felt heavy-handed.
Overall, this Christian suspense/mystery is an enjoyable twisted intricate mystery with an uneven sense of suspense in places.
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About the Author
Carrie Stuart Parks is an award winning artist, writer, speaker, and law enforcement instructor. A Certified Forensic Artist, she met her husband, Rick, in the romantic hallways of the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia. Together they formed a dynamic and successful team in their fine and forensic art, working on major national and international cases and creating exquisite watercolors and stone carvings. They travel internationally, teaching forensic art to a variety of participants: from the Secret Service to the FBI, from large law enforcement agencies to the smallest two-man departments in their one-week classes. They are the largest instructors of forensic art in the world. Carrie has won numerous awards for her innovative teaching methods and general career excellence and is a signature member of the Idaho Watercolor Society.
Carrie’s Gwen Marcey series chronicles a forensic artist from Montana and is loosely based on Carrie’s forensic cases. She began her fiction writing career while battling breast cancer. Mentored by NY Times bestselling author, Frank Peretti, Carrie’s debut novel, along with her subsequent novels, have been met with critical acclaim.
CIA analyst Brynn Taylor developed a new program to combat terrorism, and she invited members of foreign intelligence agencies to America to foster cooperation between countries. Now one of them, Egyptian spy Remon Riad, is missing.
Jack Hudson has been working for the Strategic Neutralization and Protection Agency (SNAP) for almost nine years and takes the lead in hunting down the missing spy. But he isn’t at all pleased to find out Brynn is involved. It’s hard to trust a woman who’s already betrayed you.
Every lead they follow draws them dangerously deeper into an international plot. Kidnapping, murder, explosions, poisoning–the terrorists will do anything to accomplish their goal of causing a digital blackout that will blind a strategic US military communications center and throw the world into chaos.
Can Brynn surrender control to a man who doesn’t trust her? And can Jack ever get over what she did to him? The fate of the world–and their hearts–hangs in the balance.
***
Elise’s Thoughts
Lights Out by Natalie Walters delves into national security, international intrigue, and inter-agency cooperation. The plot has a national security agency looking for a missing foreigner who might be connected to terrorism, murder, explosives, and poisoning.
The story opens with CIA analyst Brynn Taylor heading up a program she developed to combat terrorism. She wants to make sure no terrorist falls between the cracks considering many are not the typical looking type. To gain traction and to foster cooperation, members of other foreign intelligence agencies were invited to America. But an Egyptian spy has gone missing. Jack Hudson, who has been working for the Strategic Neutralization and Protection Agency (SNAP) for almost nine years, is asked to take the lead in hunting down the missing spy.
Unfortunately, Brynn is loaned out to SNAP and Jack must work closely together with her, someone who betrayed him eight years ago. Trying to set aside their hurt, they work together to find leads that will stop the terrorist plot.
To lighten the load Walters writes great conversational banter. Readers get to know the characters and can decide who they want to hang out with.
This story has a lot of suspense that keeps readers deeply engrossed. Because of the plotline there is a sense of heroism to the story.
***
Elise’s Author Interview
Elise Cooper: How did you get the idea for the story?
Natalie Walters: Because my husband is in the military, we moved all around the US. We have friends and neighbors who work for other government agencies. During a dinner conversation with a friend, they told of how a foreign counterpart disappeared in this country. They were training in the US and went missing for 16 hours. Although it was an innocent situation, they sent him back to his country after he was found. I rolled with it and thought what if that missing foreigner was committed to do harm to the US.
EC: Does the SNAP Agency exist?
NW: No, it is completely fictional. My imagination with my husband’s help is how the name came about. It stands for Strategic Neutralize And Protect against threats. The company is a private contractor like Blackwater.
EC: The heroine is a targeting analyst-does that job exist?
NW: Yes, the CIA does have these types of analysts.
EC: How would you describe Brynn?
NW: She has gone through life changes because of her family background. She needs to be in control to feel safe and has trust issues. If she can control her work, she thinks she can control her life. She does want to belong to a team who will have her back. I would say she is guarded, suspicious, a workaholic, and focused. She is also determined, independent, witty, and set in her ways.
EC: There is a quote about terrorists?
NW: Yes. You must be referring to this one, “What makes terrorists so dangerous is their ability to blend in and deceive you.” Brynn is trained to study people. Terrorists don’t always look like the typical type. The point of the quote is to not profile because they could be from any race, ethnicity, and creed. This is what makes fighting terrorism so difficult.
EC: How would you describe Jack?
NW: Loyal, dedicated, a leader, and a protector. He sometimes comes off as rigid because he wants justice.
EC: What about the relationship?
NW: Because of the betrayal, Jack doesn’t trust Brynn. He is wary of his feelings and emotions. Since Brynn is so focused with her job, she sometimes misses getting close. They are like oil and vinegar. Because of their past conflict they are confused about their feelings.
EC: What about the co-workers Lyla versus Brynn?
NW: The relationship is a little bit hostile. Lyla sees Jack as a big brother. At first, Brynn is intimidated by Lyla. She does not want to let Brynn hurt him again. But as they work together Lyla begins to admire Brynn for her skills.
EC: What about the role of September 11th in the story?
NW: It is an important part of Brynn’s backstory. The war was brought to American soil. SNAP was created to make sure another 9/11 does not happen again. Those that work there are continually on guard.
EC: There is a quote the shows family members have a different experience?
NW: You are referring to when Brynn told the US President, “For most Americans, their lives moved forward, but for me and others directly impacted by that day, we can never forget. I joined the CIA because I never want another child or family to go through what ours did.” Almost every American remembers where we were during that moment in history. Everyone around Brynn received horrific news. September 11th changed the course of her life. I think for Americans who were not affected personally, that horrific day does not hold the same weight. I looked online and found out that the events took place over a short period of time. But our world has been changed ever since.
EC: Since you are a military family how has it impacted you?
NW: We know many soldiers who joined because of 9/11. Joining the military and any of the three letter agencies means that person swears an oath to protect the people of this nation. They sacrifice time with their family. They stepped up and stepped forward.
EC: There is also a humorous quote in the book?
NW: Yes, about cell phones. My youngest is going to be 21. The earliest age my children got a phone was in late middle school. Everyone is always on their phone, all generations. The phone seems to be a part of someone’s body.
EC: What about your next book?
NW: It is title Fatal Code and comes out the summer of 2022. It will be Kekoa and Eleanor’s story. They must monitor a neighbor who might be trying to develop a nuclear weapon. There will be an update on Jack and Brynn’s life.
THANK YOU!!
BIO: Elise Cooper has written book reviews and interviewed best-selling authors since 2009. Her reviews have covered several different genres, including thrillers, mysteries, women’s fiction, romance and cozy mysteries. An avid reader, she engages authors to discuss their works, and to focus on the descriptions of their characters and the plot. While not writing reviews, Elise loves to watch baseball and visit the ocean in Southern California, with her dog and husband.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour for WOMAN IN SHADOW by Carrie Stuart Parks.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
***
Book Description
Carrie Stuart Parks combines her expertise as a forensic artist with her ability to craft a gripping story in this page-turning web of light and shadow.
A woman off the grid.
Darby Graham thinks she’s on a much-needed vacation in remote Idaho to relax. But before she even arrives at the ranch, an earthquake strikes—her first clue that something is amiss. Then when a cabin on the edge of town is engulfed in flames and problems at the ranch escalate, Darby finds herself immersed in a chilling mystery.
A town on fire.
A serial arsonist sends taunting letters to the press after each fire. As a forensic linguist, this is Darby’s area of expertise . . . but the scars it’s caused her also the reason she’s trying to escape from her life.
A growing darkness.
As the shadows continue to move in, the pieces of the town around her come into sharper focus. Can she trust the one man who sees her clearly?
Genre: Mystery/Suspense Published by: Thomas Nelson Publication Date: July 13th 2021 Number of Pages: 336 ISBN: 0785239847 (ISBN13: 9780785239840) Series:Woman in Shadow is not a part of a series.
***
My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
WOMAN IN SHADOW by Carrie Stuart Parks is a Christian mystery/suspense with a hint of romance set in rural Idaho with a female protagonist who is memorable for her intelligence, courage and grit as she works to find the cause of disturbing incidents on a resort ranch she is sent to, while working to overcome PTSD from a previous horrific case gone wrong.
Darby Graham has spent two years at Clan Firinn, a program for law enforcement personnel to work on dealing with their severe PTSD. Clan Firinn has sent her undercover to Mule Shoe Ranch to use her skills as a forensic linguist to gather information regarding accidents that are sabotaging the future of the ranch.
Deputy Bram White is aware of the problems at Mule Shoe Ranch, but he is also investigating a serial arsonist. As the accidents at the ranch turn to murder, Bram turns to Darby for assistance. Are they looking for an arsonist who is also a killer, or do the two cases have separate perpetrators?
Will Darby be able to unravel all the suspects and motives before she becomes one of the killer’s victims?
I enjoyed this story from start to finish. Darby is a strong protagonist who goes through so much emotionally and physically during this story. Her backstory and the cause of her PTSD is revealed in increments throughout the story as she works to overcome all the personal obstacles thrown in her way from the killer. I also loved Ms. Parks’ addition of the dogs, Holly and Maverick, to aid Darby in so many ways during the story. Bram is a romantic interest who has his own backstory to overcome so as much as he helps Darby, he also makes her doubt herself. This has a thread of romance with no sex scenes, but a growth of understanding and acceptance. The Christian references during the story are few. The red herrings and plot twists left me guessing until the resolution which I always like.
I recommend this standalone Christian mystery/suspense!
***
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Targhee Falls, Idaho
“Why are those dogs barking?” I pointed across the wooden picnic table toward two obviously upset canines yelping nearby.
A man staring at a clipboard didn’t look up. “They’re dogs. That’s what they do. Are you Darby Graham?”
“Yes.”
The man checked something on his clipboard. “Good. You’re all here.” He had to speak up to be heard over the commotion.
Before I could ask about the dogs again, he turned and strolled toward the nearby general store.
Although the man seemed unmoved by the dogs’ distress, the other people seated around me on Adirondack chairs or at picnic tables had stopped speaking to each other and were staring. The dogs—a black Lab cross with hound-length ears, and a huge Great Dane mix—both had their tails tucked between their legs and were howling.
The picnic table trembled.
I lifted my hands off the rough pine surface but could still feel the movement under my body. A flock of birds burst from the treetops. Pinecones dropped to the ground from the towering ponderosas.
Earthquake.
I was seated near the general store, just below a plate-glass window. The glass rippled, then rattled.
Heart thudding, I dove under the table. The ground rolled under me like ocean waves. A low rumbling was followed by car alarms going off from the parking lot on the other side of the store.
The black Lab flew under the table and landed in my lap. I wrapped my arms around the quivering dog, feeling the prominent bones of her spine and rib cage. “It’s okay there, girl. You’re safe. Your big buddy isn’t so scared—”
The second quaking dog joined us, his large body pressing against my back.
The earthquake ended.
“All over.” I reached around and scratched the Dane’s chest, feeling more bones. Didn’t anyone ever feed these dogs?
Both dogs seemed content to stay put, but the weight of the Lab—even though she was too thin—was still more than my leg was used to and it was rapidly going to sleep. “Come on, sweet girl, time to get up,” I whispered.
Both dogs took the hint.
On the other hand, here under the table seemed a nice place to stay. Tucked into the shadows, I didn’t need to worry about anyone staring at me. I had room to stretch out and could smell the cut grass. I’d be prepared should another earthquake come. And my assignment was to maintain a low profile. Sitting on the ground under a table seemed to be as low profile as I could get.
Two legs appeared next to me. “Miss Graham?”
Flapperdoodle. Mr. Clipboard found me.
I crawled between the bench and table, sliding onto the seat, then glanced around. Several other people had taken similar action. Only Clipboard had noticed my reluctance to leave my hiding place.
One by one, the car alarms stopped. The slight breeze stirred the fragrance of fallen pine needles.
Mr. Clipboard stared at me for a moment, then turned toward the others. He was holding a number of fabric bags imprinted with Mule Shoe Ranch. “Don’t be worried, folks. The town of Targhee Falls is less than fifteen miles from Yellowstone. The national park routinely has between one and three thousand quakes a year—”
“Excuse me, but I’ve heard most of those quakes aren’t noticeable,” a gray-haired woman in a denim shirt said.
“Obviously some are.” The man gave her a rueful half smile and started handing out the bags after checking the attached name tags. “I’m Sam, owner of the general store over there.” He nodded toward the building featuring a two-story false front and wooden sidewalk. The peeling sign said Sam’s Mercantile. “I provide Mule Shoe with transportation, supplies, and assistance during team-building exercises. Inside these bags you’ll find a great deal of information about your stay at the ranch. The owner, Roy Zaring, wanted you to have these while you’re waiting for your transportation—”
“When will that be?” asked a handsome teen with flawless olive skin and a thick lock of black hair. “I’m not getting any cell service here.” He held up his phone. An impeccably dressed man and woman sitting at the same table gave each other sideways glances.
Sam finished handing out the bags, turned, and looked at the youth. “Those your folks?” His gaze flickered to the two people sitting with the young man.
“Yeah.”
“And I’m guessing your mom? Dad? Both? Told you they were here to take a team-building—”
“Watercolor workshop.”
“A five-day art class in the wilds of Idaho, right?”
“Yeeeaah.”
“Son, the Mule Shoe Dude Ranch is a primitive facility. No Wi-Fi. No cell reception. No television, radio . . . no electricity. You’ll have a cabin with a fireplace, a composting toilet, and a lantern at night.”
The color drained from the young man’s face. “What?” he whispered.
“That reminds me,” Sam said. “I’ll collect your cell phones and will keep them here and charged for when you return.”
I reached into my purse, took out my phone, and placed it on the table for Sam to collect. Whose brilliant idea was it to send me on assignment to a primitive facility when they know I need my computer and electricity? And five days with all these strangers? I wouldn’t even need to unpack.
“Don’t worry.” An attractive older woman sitting on a wooden Adirondack chair grinned at the boy. “There’s plenty of hot water for showers, courtesy of the natural geothermal environment. The water’s gravity fed and the food is world-class.” She looked around at all of us. “I’ve had an interest in the Mule Shoe and was here last summer, although I have to admit, I prefer to visit this time of year. Late September is perfect. You all are going to love it.”
The young man’s lips compressed into a thin line, and he seemed loath to let go of his cell. Sam kept tugging the phone until the youth relinquished it. “But what is there to do?” he asked no one in particular.
“Most of us are here for the art lessons.” Denim Shirt reached into her bag, pulled out a piece of paper, and held it up. “Listen.” She read from it. “‘You’ll find trail rides, fishing, canoeing, gold panning, mineral collecting, archery, photography, hiking, campfires, swimming—’”
“That’s what I mean.” The young man ran his hand through his hair. “There’s nothing to do.”
I tugged out the same brochure. Welcome, honored guests. We look forward to serving you during your stay with us. Your experiences here will be unforgettable for all the right reasons! You should bring to Mule Shoe your mindset for success.
Yeah, right. I’d like to set my mind on getting in, getting done, and getting home. “Sam, you mentioned transportation . . .”
“Horse and wagon.”
I was afraid of that. “Do you have a regular timetable?”
This time Sam actually focused on me. “No. The horse and wagon are available on an as-needed basis, mostly to transport new groups and supplies.”
From bad to worse. I was stuck. Now would be a good time to find a bathroom. Riding a bumpy, horse-drawn wagon would be uncomfortable enough without a full bladder. Besides, if I left now, no one would notice my slight limp. I normally wanted to be invisible, to disappear into a crowd. When Scott Thomas, my counselor, told me not to stand out, to blend in, he didn’t have to say it twice. Your final assignment before leaving us here in Clan Firinn is to check out Mule Shoe Ranch. We’ve heard rumblings that something’s not right. You’ll be registered as a guest. I’ll tell you more once you get there.
I was irritated at being sent out like this with no idea of what was expected. I now know why. Had I known I wouldn’t be able to use my computer programs or the internet, I would have put my foot down. I was fortunate to have a good memory for words.
I’d heard through the Clan Firinn grapevine that those getting ready to leave—“graduate” as they called it—would have a project that would test their progress toward wholeness. I figured they’d find out soon enough that I wasn’t ready to leave.
I rose, picked up my purse, and made my way to the general store. A cowbell jangled as I entered. “‘I got a fever,’” I muttered. “‘And the only prescription is more cowbell.’” The line made me smile. Why worry about earthquakes, lack of electricity, and the inability to do my work when the world needed more cowbell?
“What?” A young, freckle-faced woman with a smear of dirt on her nose stopped replacing items on the shelf.
“Iconic Saturday Night Live line—more cowbell?”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” The interior had old oak floors, a tin ceiling, and a long counter with a glass display case. The sun through the window spotlighted twirling dust motes. Various cans still littered the floor, courtesy of the earthquake.
“Just let me know if ya need something.”
“Powder room?”
“Huh?”
“WC?”
“I think we’re sold out.”
“John? Head? Loo? Restroom?”
“Toilet?” She nodded to her right.
Fortunately, the primitive conditions did not include the store bathroom. Returning to the store, I picked up a can of soup that had rolled near me. “Do you know anything about those two dogs?” I handed her the can.
“Why are ya asking?” The woman placed it on the shelf.
“They just seem thin, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well.” She adjusted the display. “Sam’s been feeding ’em, but that’s gonna stop.”
My neck tingled. “I don’t understand.” I gave her a steady gaze.
She paused her work and looked around. We were alone in the store, but she dropped her voice to just above a whisper. “He’s just waitin’ for all of you to leave to the ranch.”
The tingling grew to an itch. My years of training as a forensic linguist kicked in, even though I was rusty. I grew very still and waited, listening for more clues in her language.
She gave up straightening the cans. “It’s like this: The dogs were owned by an old lady. I bet she was, like, at least forty.”
“Positively ancient. One foot in the grave.” I gave her a slight smile.
“Right. Her name was Shadow Woman. That’s what everyone called her. Well, that’s the nice name anyway. She was, like, a hermit, but a pretty good artist.” She jerked her thumb at a drawing on the wall behind the cash register.
Were owned, was. Past tense. I widened my smile to encourage her. “Why did everyone call her Shadow Woman?”
The clerk gnawed on a hangnail for a moment. “I guess ’cause she was weird, ya know, like she lived in the shadows. Creepy. Always showed up here at the store at dusk or when it was dark. Sam said she could sneak right up next to you in the shadows and you’d never see her. And her face was weird.”
“Weird how?”
“Like, really weird.”
“Ah, that clarifies it. Where did she come from?”
“Sam said she ran away from a group home near Smelterville.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
“Right, you know? No one wanted her. Anyway, she owned Holly—that’s the Lab mix—and Maverick, the Anna-toolian sheepdog.”
“Anatolian? From Anatolia in Asia Minor?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“Of course. I thought the big dog was half Great Dane, half mastiff.”
“Nope. Sam looked it up. Anna-whatevers are super-expensive livestock guard dogs from Turkey or France, I forget which.”
“They are such similar countries,” I murmured.
“Right. So anyway, Sam was surprised that Shadow Woman had one.”
Sam looked it up. Looking for value? Surprised that Shadow Woman had one. Not just a hermit but poor? Broke? “I see.” I leaned slightly against the shelving unit. “You mentioned Shadow . . .”
“Right. Um . . . so Shadow Woman came to town like once a month with her mule, like I said, always after sunset, and bought stuff, like Spam. She’d usually pay her bill about every other month. The dogs always came with her. Six months ago, you know, she stopped coming.”
“Let me guess. She owed Sam a lot of money.”
“Right. Boy-howdy was he steamed about it. Then he, you know, got a check and note from the old woman to pay her bill, but the check bounced higher than a buckin’ bronco.”
“Did anyone follow up, call the police?”
“Not right away ’cause the dogs moved in, first Holly, then Maverick. So, you know, Sam started to feed them. And . . . I think someone changed his mind on what to do with the dogs.”
Cluster of you knows. Sensitive topic. I kept my gaze on her and nodded again.
She glanced down and plucked a piece of lint from her sleeve. “Sam always said he’d get his pound of flesh from her, whatever that means.”
“I’m sure it originated in Turkey or France.”
“Right. Foreign-like. Um . . . Sam finally got close enough to Maverick to see he’d been spayed.”
“Neutered?”
“What?”
“Never mind.” A neutered dog was of zero value, and Sam stopped feeding them. I made an effort to unclench my hands. “How have the dogs survived?”
“You know, folks around town feel sorry for them . . .”
The cowbell jangled.
The clerk straightened and glanced in that direction. Her cheeks flamed and her tongue flickered out to moisten her lips.
I turned.
A sheriff’s deputy charged to the bathroom, disappeared for a few moments, then reappeared and sauntered toward us, replacing fallen items on the shelves. His ordinary brown hair was the only average thing about him. He was otherwise a walking modern-day Adonis, his face chiseled by a master carver. He finally looked up and smiled at the clerk, exposing more teeth than the Osmond family, and seemed to enjoy her reaction to his arrival.
My hand automatically reached to fluff my hair. I stopped and squared my oversized glasses instead.
He looked at me, his eyes widening. “Hello there. I’m Bram White.”
“I’m—”
“Leaving,” the clerk said. “Goin’ to Mule Shoe. She’s a guest.”
“Darby Graham.” I glanced at his holstered pistol, then out the window at the two dogs lying under a tree. Check bounced. Sam’s been feeding ’em, but that’s gonna stop. Pound of flesh.
Deputy Bram glanced at his watch.
My neck was crawling with reasons to scratch it.
“Can I get you a Coke or somethin’?” she asked me. “It shouldn’t be long.” The clerk moved toward an ancient cooler. “I’d bet the wagon got slowed down by the earthquake.”
The two dogs began barking.
“See? I told ya. Betcha that’s the wagon now.” The clerk moved toward the front of the store, brushing past Bram. “Excuse me,” she said. At the window, she glanced out, then looked at the officer. “Yep. The wagon’s here.” Without taking her eyes from Bram, she said to me, “You can go now.”
Sam stuck his head in the door. “Miss Graham? Time to leave.” He spotted Bram and gave the man a quick nod.
I gave in and scratched my neck. This was none of my business. No need to get involved. No reason to draw attention to myself. Low profile. Right. I straightened. “I think I’ll wait here. Catch the next wagon.” The words came out without my thinking, but they seemed right.
Sam moved into the store. “I’m sorry, Miss Graham, there won’t be a next wagon. It’s quite a distance to the ranch and it’s getting late. You’ll need to leave now.” He wiped his hands on his slacks, glanced at the clerk, then at the deputy.
The itch was now a full-scale conviction. “Your clerk here—”
“Julia?” Sam glared at the clerk.
“Was telling me about Shadow Woman. And her dogs.”
Bram folded his arms.
Sam opened the door behind him and waved for me to exit. “Miss Graham, I really see that as none of your business.”
Go now.Run. You have nothing to offer. Well . . . almost nothing. I slowly walked over to the counter. “I know Shadow Woman’s check bounced. How much money did she owe you? And how much to cover all the dog food?” I opened my purse.
“How many times have I warned you to keep your piehole shut!” Sam said to Julia.
“I didn’t say nothin’!” Julia crossed her arms. “She figured it out on her own.”
Sam closed the door and approached me, both hands held out as if to show goodwill. “I don’t know what it is that you figured out, Miss Graham, but—”
“Please don’t try lying to me, Sam.” I pulled out my checkbook. “You figured the Anatolian dog would pay Shadow Woman’s bill, but when you saw he was neutered, he had no more value to you. The minute I leave, you’re going to have Deputy White here shoot both dogs. Your pound of flesh.” I stared into his eyes. “I intend to stop you.”
***
Author Bio
Carrie Stuart Parks is a Christy, multiple Carol, and Inspy Award–winning author. She was a 2019 finalist in the Daphne du Maurier Award for excellence in mainstream mystery/suspense and has won numerous awards for her fine art as well. An internationally known forensic artist, she travels with her husband, Rick, across the US and Canada teaching courses in forensic art to law-enforcement professionals. The author/illustrator of numerous books on drawing and painting, Carrie continues to create dramatic watercolors from her studio in the mountains of Idaho.
