Novella 0.5: Into the Fire Book 1: You’ll Never Find Me
Book Description – Into the Fire (Angelhart Investigations Book #0.5)
Margo Angelhart was recently certified as a private investigator, but she isn’t convinced that it’s her calling. All of her cases have been minor, mostly for family and haven’t paid the bills. She’s more than happy to keep bartending and figure out her post-military career later. That is, until prosecutor Andy Flannigan walks into her bar and offers her a case she can’t turn down…
Nineteen-year-old Sergio Diaz has confessed to murder—except Andy doesn’t buy it. With his own job on the line, Andy asks Margo to work the case discreetly. The more she digs, the more she’s convinced an innocent kid is going to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Now she just needs to figure out why he’d confess. Can Margo prove Sergio’s innocence and help Andy find the real killer before anyone else dies?
INTO THE FIRE (Angelhart Investigations Book #0.5) by Allison Brennan is an introductory novella to a new P.I. series from a favorite author. Margo Angelhart is from a large extended family and is bartending after returning from the Army while getting her P.I. license on the side. This is a quick novella that introduces Margo a few years before the start of the series and demonstrates her tenacity and thinking outside of the box on her first case as a P.I.
Prosecutor Andy Flannigan is a regular customer and stops into the bar while Margo Angelhart is bartending. He has a case with a young man, Sergio Diaz, who has confessed to murder, but Andy does not believe him. Margo is willing to help and take a second look. The more she investigates, the more Margo believes in Sergio innocence, and she must discover why he is willing to go to prison for a crime he did not commit.
I enjoyed getting to know Margo and her family. Ms. Brennan’s writing brings all the characters to life and makes them believable. The crime plot is interesting even in this shorter novella format. I feel the main purpose of this novella, besides being an introduction to the characters, is to show Margo finally believing in herself and her path as a private investigator. I am looking forward to starting the first full length book in this series!
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Book Description – You’ll Never Find Me (Angelhart Investigations Book #1)
Working alone as a private investigator is tough. Estranged from her PI family, Margo Angelhart does what she must to get by—including taking on sordid cases that pay the bills, even if she’d rather be helping those the justice system has failed.
That is, until a cheating husband case she’s working intersects with her siblings’ corporate espionage investigation, forcing Margo to cooperate with the Angelhart firm. Now, as the siblings compare notes, it’s clear they need to work together before a white-collar crime escalates to murder.
With far more questions than answers and a key suspect on the run, they’ll need the whole family to pitch in. But as they investigate the ever-twisting mystery, Margo isn’t sharing everything. Can she learn to trust her family and heal their once-close relationship before her secrets put those she loves most in danger?
YOU’LL NEVER FIND ME (Angelhart Investigations Book #1) by Allison Brennan is an exciting and action packed P.I. crime thriller and a great start to this new series. Margo is a relatable protagonist from a large extended family in Phoenix, Arizona and a smart P.I. Besides introducing us to the main characters, there are two crime plots intersecting throughout the story.
P.I. Margo Angelhart is estranged from her family and working on her own and not with Angelhart Investigations. She helps an abused wife and mother of two disappear and to help pay for this pro-bono work she takes on a case to find proof of a cheating spouse. The cheating spouse case intersects with a corporate espionage investigation her family is working on. Her brother talks her into working together and the case soon escalates to attempted murder. At the same time, Margo has the husband of the family she helped disappear on her tail and threatening those she loves for information on the location of his missing family.
Margo is not sure how much she is willing to trust her family and keeps certain facts to herself, but this could put those she loves in danger. Is she willing to heal the family rift and become a part of her once close-knit family and the family firm again?
This is going to be a fabulous series! Margo is a fully developed protagonist. She is independent, brash and stubborn to a fault, but also extremely kindhearted to the underdog. The interactions with her various family members felt realistic and believable. The P.I. investigations were intriguing with plenty of twists and surprises. Everything together kept me turning the pages.
I highly recommend this first captivating book in this new Angelhart Investigations series!
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About the Author
Allison Brennan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling and award winning author of more than forty thrillers and numerous short stories. She was nominated for Best Paperback Original Thriller by International Thriller Writers, had multiple nominations and two Daphne du Maurier Awards, and is a five-time RITA finalist for Best Romantic Suspense. Allison believes life is too short to be bored, so she had five kids and writes three books a year. Originally from northern California, in 2019 she and her husband relocated to Arizona where they enjoy baseball Spring Training, hiking, and spending time with their kids, grandson, and assorted pets.
Six experienced saturation divers are locked inside a hyperbaric chamber. Calm and professional, they know that rapid decompression would be fatal and so they work in shifts, breathing helium, and surviving in hot, close quarters.
Then one of them is found dead in his bunk.
With four days of decompression to go before the locked hatch to the chamber can be safely opened, the group must watch one another’s backs at all times. And when another diver is discovered unresponsive, everyone is on edge. What…or who…is taking them out one by one? And will any of them still be alive by the time the four days is up or will paranoia, exhaustion, suspicion, and pressure destroy them all?
THE CHAMBER by Will Dean is a psychological crime thriller/mystery with the ultimate locked room. Six experienced saturation divers begin to die, one-by-one, in their place of work, a hyperbaric chamber. If you are claustrophobic, this may not be the book for you, but you will be missing out on an amazing who-dun-it thriller that leaves you questioning your assumptions all the way to the last page.
Locked in a hyperbaric chamber is a tight and hot environment in which to live as six professional saturation divers work in shifts on deep sea oil rigs. They all depend on each other for their lives and know there is no exit until after decompression. After only one dive shift, one of the divers is discovered dead in his bunk and then it happens again. The divers can find no reason for these deaths and do not know who to trust. Now, as the company calls a halt to the month-long job, the divers must wait through four days of decompression as they continue to die one-by-one.
The story is told by Ellen Brooke, one of few female saturation divers, and she is in the chamber with five other experienced divers. Ellen is a wife and mother who does not know if she will return home. As the clock ticks down the time of decompression, the dead bodies increase and so does the level of suspicion and conspiracy theories. I always thought I was slightly claustrophobic until I read this book and now, I know I am much more claustrophobic than I believed. This is definitely not a job for the feint of heart.
I loved this book! I learned about a career I knew nothing about and would never attempt but found fascinating. I changed my mind so many times as to who or what was killing the divers. This mystery/thriller is fast paced, even with the explanations of sat diving and the countdown to the end builds to a heart pounding climax. No spoilers here, but make sure you read to the very last page.
I highly recommend this psychological crime thriller/mystery!
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About the Author
Will Dean grew up in the East Midlands of the United Kingdom. After studying law at the London School of Economics and working in London, he settled in rural Sweden where he built a wooden house in a vast forest, and it’s from this base that he compulsively reads and writes. His debut novel, Dark Pines, was selected for Zoe Ball’s book club on ITV, shortlisted for the National Book Award (UK), TheGuardian’s Not the Booker prize, and was named a Telegraph book of the year. He is also the author of The Last One, First Born, The Last Thing to Burn, which was shortlisted for the Theakston Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year, and The Chamber.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for IN THE PALE LIGHT by Wesley Smith on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links, and a Kingsumo giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Description
When Clay Graham and his family are found slain in the parking lot of his struggling business, the police suspect Clay’s troublemaker brother, Terry. Terry claims he was drunk the night of the murders and passed out at home. With little evidence against Terry to make an arrest, the case soon goes cold.
Shunned from the community, harassed by the locals who believe he’s a murderer, and suffering from an undiagnosed illness, Terry lives alone on his farm, punishing himself for his past indiscretions.
Then Pennsylvania State Police Trooper Henry Miller, who has ties to the town and the Graham murders, shows up with newly discovered evidence that kick-starts the case all over again.
Now, before his illness kills him, Terry sets out, battling against small-town secrets and old grudges, racing against time to stay one step ahead of both the State Police and his own impending death, to finally find out what really happened to his family and hopefully prove himself and innocent man –if he is one.
Genre: Crime Thriller Published by: Watertower Hill Publishing Publication Date: August 13, 2024
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
IN THE PALE LIGHT by Westley Smith is an intense vigilante cold case crime thriller with a man accused of killing his brother’s family racing against his terminal illness and law enforcement to discover the truth. Make sure you set aside a block of time to read this race-against-time thriller because if you are like me, you will not be able to put it down until the final revelation.
Terry Graham is known around town as a drunkard and troublemaker with a terrible temper. When his brother, brother’s wife, and daughter are found shot to death outside their business, everyone believes Terry is responsible, but there is no proof. Shunned in his small hometown for nine years, the case has gone cold until a pair of detectives from the State Police Major Crimes Unit take over this investigation and begin asking questions again.
Pennsylvania State Trooper Henry Miller is back in town with newly discovered evidence to investigate the Graham case that he was the first patrol officer on the scene on the day of the murder. Miller has always had questions about this murder case and now he hopes to find the truth, but Terry seems to have discovered something also and is beating him to people he wants to question.
With Terry barely ahead of the detectives, he is racing against time to discover the truth behind the murders and prove himself innocent.
This book has a protagonist that is not lovable, and has a terrible temper, but you end up cheering him on to find the truth before he succumbs to his illness. Every new discovery had me rethinking the crime; not only who but why. The crime thriller plot is fast-paced and full of twists and surprises. The tension builds to a crescendo that had me reading well past my bedtime.
I highly recommend this engrossing vigilante cold case crime thriller!
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Excerpt
December 25th, 2015
The emergency lights from the Hickory Falls Sheriff’s Department Ford Interceptor flashed across the snow when it pulled into the Graham Video store parking lot. The sheet of white should have been untouched by tires at 6:45 a.m., and the snow-covered green Jetta, sitting in the far left-hand corner of the parking lot should not have been there. Two different sets of tire tracks cut through the pristine snow. One set belonged to the Jetta. The other set made a large circle in the snow before making its way back toward Main Street.
The officer brought the SUV to a stop about five feet from the Jetta; its headlights bathed the car in the frigid darkness. Unable to see past the Jetta’s frosted snow-covered windows, a building sense of unease began to crawl over him, tightening the flesh to his bones.
The officer’s shift had been easy that night. He had not responded to any emergency calls, nor had he had to pull anyone over. A Christmas miracle itself. But all that had changed fifteen minutes ago while he was patrolling Broke Run Road, when Sheriff Will Daniel’s voice came over the radio.
“Call just came in. We got a report of shots fired at the Graham Video store. Caller says they saw a man running across the parking lot, carrying what appeared to be a shotgun. The suspect reportedly got into the passenger side of a blue sedan before it took off with two others inside. Need you to check it out,” Daniel had said.
Why the hell is the sheriff in at this hour? the officer had wondered. Shouldn’t Susan be on the call desk? And what’s going on at the Graham Video store?
Now on scene, with the first cracks of gray sky beginning to materialize through the night horizon, he radioed back into the station.
“I’m at the Graham Video store. I’ve located a V-dub Jetta. It’s an early 2000s model. No sign of anyone else, including the reported blue sedan. Though there are two sets of tire tracks in the snow, indicating another vehicle was present.” He glanced at the video store’s entrance. There were no broken windows and no ajar door to indicate a robbery had occurred. The place appeared buttoned up tight. “No signs of a break-in, Sheriff. Getting out to inspect the vehicle.”
“Ten-four,” Sheriff Daniel’s voice came back over the line. “Proceed with caution.”
Again, the officer thought it was strange that the sheriff was in at that hour, and on Christmas morning. Where was Susan Green? She usually worked the overnight shift; she should still have been at the station, working the dispatch desk. Still, the officer knew, she could have gone home for any number of reasons—the holiday, the storm, or maybe a family member had fallen –ill—and the sheriff had filled in for her. Pushing the thought from his mind, the officer returned to the pressing matter at hand.
Stay focused.Stay sharp.
Stepping from the SUV, the blowing snow and driving wind bit at the officer’s exposed skin, penetrated his clothes. Zipping his jacket up to his chin, he started toward the car, trudging through the shin-deep snow.
As he neared the Jetta, pelted with snow and ice so hard it stung, he noticed a set of footprints leading away from the passenger-side door toward the second set of tire tracks before vanishing. The tracks were nearly filled in with fresh powder, but it was unmistakable what they were. He assumed this was where the person had gotten into the second car—an old blue sedan. Looking back to the Jetta, he saw something smeared along the top of the passenger-side door. Whatever it was had frozen to a hard, ruby-colored substance.
He eased in for a closer look.
Blood!
Frozen blood.
A strange tightness gripped the base of the officer’s neck as if Death had wrapped a cold, boney hand around him and begun to squeeze. His heart rate quickened. He placed his right hand on his sidearm and identified himself.
“This is the Hickory Falls Sheriff’s Department. If there’s anyone inside the vehicle, would you please step out?”
There was no reply. The car was dead still. The only sound across the parking lot was the howling wind and the ice pebbles hitting the closest metal lamp post.
Not wanting to disturb what he believed to be blood on the passenger-side door, the officer lumbered through the deepening snow, around the front of the Jetta, to the driver’s side. Reaching down, he took hold of the handle and pulled.
The driver’s side door was locked.
He took a deep breath of cold air, sending what felt like ice daggers into his lungs as he tried to steel himself for what he might find inside. His teeth began to chatter, and an internal shudder tremored in his core and quickly expanded to the rest of his body.
“I’m asking anyone inside to identify themselves and step out.” He waited, but when no one replied, he said, “If you do not comply, I will be forced to inspect the vehicle. Last warning.”
Silence.
No movement came from within. The car’s stillness bothered him—like it was dead. But that was impossible. Cars could not be deceased like humans or animals. So why was he getting the dreaded feeling that death emanated from it?
Placing his gloved hand on the window, he brushed the light dusting of snow away and bent down to look inside.
The officer recoiled at what he saw or who he saw staring back at him. His feet slipped out from under him, and he went down onto his backside, hard. Snow kicked up when he hit the ground, and for a moment he was cocooned in falling white powder, protected from what he had seen.
But when the snow settled, the officer was again gazing at the driver’s-side door of the Jetta. There, he saw a man’s pale face pressed against the glass, the muscles twisted and tightened in agony. His eyes were open and locked directly on the officer with a vacant, lifeless stare, pleading with him, even in death, to save him.
Too late. I’m too late to save you.
The officer shot to his feet; snow fell off his uniform in large patchy clumps. And though the temperature was in the teens, he felt sweat break out across his back and forehead.
Moving gingerly toward the Jetta again, the officer realized he knew the dead man looking back at him.
Clay Graham—the owner of the Graham Video store.
He removed his Maglite from his belt and turned it on. Bending, he shone the beam through the ice-crusted driver’s-side window and began to scan the car’s interior.
That’s when he saw them.
He pressed a gloved hand over his lips, suppressing the scream that wanted to leap from his throat at the horrific sight of carnage and death inside the Jetta.
It wasn’t just Clay Graham dead inside the car but also his wife, Claire, and their teenage daughter, Sidney.
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Author Bio
Westley Smith had his first short story, Off to War, published when he was just sixteen.
He is, more recently, the author of two horror novels, Along Came the Tricksters and All Hallows Eve, as well as the thriller Some Kind of Truth. His short fiction has been published in various magazines and websites. Wes lives with his wife and two dogs in the beautiful woodlands of southern Pennsylvania–the perfect place to hide a body.
Newlywed Chief of Police Kate Burkholder is awakened by an urgent midnight call summoning her to a suspicious fire in the woods. When she arrives at the scene, she discovers a charred body. According to the coroner, the deceased, an Amish man named Milan Swanz, was chained to a stake and burned alive. It is an appalling and eerily symbolic crime against an upstanding husband and father.
Kate knows all too well that the Amish prefer to handle their problems without interference from the outside world, and no one will speak about the murdered man. From what she’s able to piece together, Swanz led a deeply troubled life and had recently been excommunicated. But if that’s the case, why are the Amish so reluctant to talk about him? Are they protecting the memory of one of their own? Or are they afraid of something they dare not share?
When her own brother is implicated in the case, Kate finds herself not only at odds with the Amish, the world of which she was once a part, but also the English community and her counterparts in law enforcement. The investigation takes a violent turn when Kate’s life is threatened by a mysterious stranger.
To uncover the truth about the death of Milan Swanz, Kate must dive deep into the Anabaptist culture, peering into all the dark corners of its history, only to uncover a secret legacy that shatters everything she thought she knew about the Amish themselves—and her own roots.
The Burning by Linda Castillo once again is a wonderful read. She seems to have outdone herself with a horrific crime and putting her main character through the wringer.
Unfortunately, this year Linda Castillo is unable to give an interview because a close family member is seriously ill, and she needs to be at home for them. But last year in an interview she noted about this story, “Regarding the murder I want to keep things fresh. I have readers peek back into the reformation by burning someone at the stake, and another person drowned. This is what was done to the Anabaptists during the reformation.”
The plot begins with newlywed Chief of Police Kate Burkholder awakened by an urgent midnight call summoning her to a suspicious fire in the woods. When she arrives at the scene, she discovers a charred body. According to the coroner, the deceased, an Amish man named Milan Swanz, was chained to a stake and burned alive. As with most of her books, many of the victims are not well liked. In this case, Swanz loved to argue with people, had a temper, kept grudges, sought revenge, demanded obedience and submission from his family, and was basically devoid of a moral compass.
To uncover the truth about the death of Milan Swanz, Kate dives deep into the Anabaptist culture, finding all the dark corners of its history. She uncovers a secret legacy that verges on Amish vigilantism. Because of her due diligence she becomes a target, realizing that violence and ruthlessness are being used to rid the world of those who “are not fundamentally good.”
As the story unfolds, her brother Jacob, known to have argued with Milan, becomes a suspect in the killing of Swanz and is arrested. Because it is now a conflict of interest, she is ordered off the case but decides to work the case behind the scenes with her husband, John Tomasetti, an Ohio BCI (Bureau of Criminal Investigation) investigator, to prove her brother’s innocence. She knows she must continue to investigate because one of the law enforcement officers, working for the Ohio BCI, assigned to the case, has tunnel vision and only sees her brother as the suspect. Working together, Tomasetti and Kate must find the killer to clear her reputation and her brother. In the story she is attacked three times, sometimes brutally, making readers wonder if she should take some self-defense classes.
It is very interesting how Castillo explores Kate and Jacob’s relationship. He is her older brother, someone who she has looked up to as a child. She knows him well and realizes he is not forth coming with the answers to her questions. Although she sees him as honorable, she also recognizes he is keeping secrets.
There are also glimpses in the book about the relationship between Tomasetti and Kate. They dance around the subject of starting a family. A powerful book quote, “the part of me has always wanted children. The idea terrifies the part of me that is a cop and knows too much about the dark side of a world that can be cruel.”
Linda commented last year, ““I loved writing this book. Kate is still adjusting to being married and does feel the tick of her biological clock regarding having children. This is something that a lot of women have in the back of their mind, how long can I wait before I have a baby? This is where she is right now. I think for the next several books she will only be married. Remember Tomasetti had his first wife murdered. He is cool with her being a cop and police chief. In fact, he nicknamed her ‘Chief.’ But how much will he put up with if she is endangered or gets hurt? This will come to a head at some point. But in The Burning book, it is simmering in the background. If she does have a child, does she want to risk her children being without a mother. This is a huge question. This is a high-risk profession. Kate and Tomasetti must figure it out. It is something that will be addressed starting with The Burning book.”
Per usual this story is a winner with many twists and turns. Kate takes a dark and twisted journey with evil and danger lurking everywhere, putting both her life and career in jeopardy. A bonus is how Castillo explore Kate’s personal life and feelings.
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About the Author
Linda Castillo is the author of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling Kate Burkholder series, set in the world of the Amish. The first book, Sworn to Silence, was adapted into a Lifetime original movie titled An Amish Murder starring Neve Campbell as Kate Burkholder. Castillo is the recipient of numerous industry awards including a nomination by the International Thriller Writers for Best Hardcover, the Mystery Writers of America’s Sue Grafton Memorial Award, and an appearance on the Boston Globe’s shortlist for best crime novel. In addition to writing, Castillo’s other passion is horses. She lives in Texas with her husband and is currently at work on her next book.
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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.
UNSUB (An UNSUB Novel Book #1) by Meg Gardiner is the gripping first book in this crime thriller series that I am late to the party reading, but better late than never. This story introduces readers to the series protagonist, Caitlin Hendrix as a detective, before she joins the FBI’s Behavioral Unit.
In the 1990’s, the San Francisco Bay area was terrorized by a serial killer known as the Prophet. Caitlin’s father was the lead investigator on the case, and it destroyed his mental health and marriage. Caitlin still has nightmares from that time but has grown to be an investigator like her father.
Now, twenty years later, the Prophet has returned and is determined to begin again where he left off and he is excited to pull Caitlin into the case, to destroy her as he did her father. This is Caitlin’s first major case, and she is determined to decipher the Prophet’s twisted poems and messages and stop the carnage. While her father and mother warn her away from this case, Caitlin believes she can stop the killer and avoid the mistakes her father made, but can she catch the Prophet before he destroys her?
This is an edge-of-your-seat, cat and mouse thriller that I could not put down, even when the descriptions of the Prophet’s kills were quite graphic. Caitlin is a complex protagonist with a background that is revealed with flashback personal information placed throughout the story. The Prophet is vicious and determined. Each encounter ramped up my anxiety and dread. Be aware, this is a serial killer thriller, so the violence is up front and in your face. All the secondary characters are believable, and you never know who will live to the end. The climax is savage and answered many questions but left a thread to follow into the next book as well as moving Caitlin to the FBI.
I highly recommend this serial killer crime thriller and cannot wait to dive into book two, Into the Black Nowhere.
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About the Author
Meg Gardiner is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of seventeen thrillers. Her latest is Shadowheart, featuring FBI profiler Caitlin Hendrix. The Real Book Spy calls it “A mind-trip of a story.” Booklist says, “As always, the writing is exquisite and the story is perfectly crafted.” UNSUB, the first novel in the series, won the 2018 Barry Award for Best Thriller. The Dark Corners of the Night was bought by Amazon Studios for development as an hour-long television drama.
Her previous novel, Heat 2, is a prequel/sequel to the film Heat, co-authored with the film’s writer/director, Michael Mann. It debuted at #1 on the NYT best seller list.
Meg is the author of the Evan Delaney series, the Jo Beckett novels, and several stand alones. China Lake won the 2009 Edgar award for Best Paperback Original. The Nightmare Thief won the 2012 Audie Award for Thriller/Suspense audiobook of the year. Phantom Instinct was one of O, the Oprah magazine’s “Best Books of Summer.”
A graduate of Stanford Law School in California, Meg practiced law in Los Angeles and taught writing at the University of California Santa Barbara. She lives in Austin, Texas.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for KNIFE RIVER (The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series) by Baron R. Birtcher on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links, and a Kingsumo giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Description
A sheriff fighting to keep the peace in 1970s Oregon faces a shocking secret from his town’s past, in this crime thriller from the author of Reckoning.
There are rules in the West no matter what era you were born in, and it’s up to lawman Ty Dawson to make sure they’re followed in the valley he calls home. The people living on this unforgiving land keep to themselves and are wary of the modern world’s encroachment into their quiet lives.
So it’s not without some suspicion that Dawson confronts a newcomer to the region: a record producer who has built a music studio in an isolated compound. His latest project is a collaboration with a famous young rock star named Ian Swann, recording and filming his sessions for a movie. An amphitheater for a live show is being built on the land, giving Dawson flashbacks to the violent Altamont concert. Not on his watch.
But even beefed up security can’t stop a disaster that’s been over a decade in the making. All it takes is one horrific case bleeding its way into the present to prove that the good ol’ days spawned a brand of evil no one wants to revisit . . .
Genre: Crime Thriller Published by: Open Road Media Publication Date: April 23, 2024 Number of Pages: 338 ISBN: 9781504086523 (ISBN10: 150408652X) Series: The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
KNIFE RIVER (The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series) by Baron Birtcher is an intricately plotted crime thriller with buried appalling crimes and secrets from the sheriff’s small town’s past that are about to be revealed and become the cause of a horrific crime in the present. This is the fourth book in the Ty Dawson series, but each is easily read as a standalone story.
Sheriff Ty Dawson is a Korean War veteran, rancher, and sheriff in the 1970’s small town of Meridian, Oregon. Ty discovers a new music studio compound has been built outside town. A famous young rock star is recording a new album and filming his sessions. It will culminate in the filming of a live concert built in a new outdoor amphitheater. Ty does not want the headaches and crimes related to a large intrusion of outsiders, but he has no choice.
What Ty does not know is the singer has ulterior motives for picking this location and is in danger from someone who does not want crimes from the past to resurface.
This is a story that pulled me in, and I did not put the book down until the end. I enjoy that it is set in the 1970’s and I especially like the references regarding the music scene and musicians. The flashback scenes to the buried secrets were interwoven throughout the present in the story and just kept ratcheting up the tension to the climax when the two collide. Sheriff Ty Dawson is a fully developed character of moral conviction with a love of his family, friends, and town, but he is not blind to the changes happening in the world. There is just something in Mr. Birtcher’s writing style that pulls me into each book in this series and makes me believe Ty is real and could walk right off the page.
I highly recommend this exceptional crime thriller addition to the series, the entire series, and this author!
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Excerpt
Prelude:
FACING WEST
SOME SAY THAT to be born into a thing is to be blind to half of it. Oftentimes, the things we seek and discover for ourselves are those we hold most dear.
Any cattleman will tell you that a ranch is a living thing. Not only the livestock that graze the meadowland, but the blood that nourishes the hungry soil, the trees that inhale the wind, and the rain that carves runnels into the hardpan that, in time, grow into rivers. The Diamond D is no different in that respect, some would even say it was the beating heart of Meriwether County, Oregon.
As both a stockman and the sheriff of this county, I believe this to be true.
But the events that unfolded in the autumn of 1964 cast a cloud across that land. Not just across my ranch, but the entire valley, though they didn’t bear their terrible fruit until nearly a dozen years later, in the spring of 1976. The incidents still haunt me, though others paid a steeper price than I; some with their lives, or the lives of their loved ones, while some forfeit their sanity, and still others with their souls.
That is where this story begins.
CHAPTER ONE
LAMBS AND LIONS hold no sway over the springtime here in Meriwether County. Some years it will snow through mid-May, other times the golden sun rides high and bright, and the river flows fast, clear and deep with high-country melt on the first day of March. Most years, it’s both, with Mother Nature keeping her whims to herself until she alone decides to turn them loose upon us.
But this particular Saturday morning was unusually quiet, not even a breath of breeze stirring the leaves of the cottonwoods that grew thick and untamed along the creekbank. I was standing outside on the gallery, sipping my coffee as I leaned on the porch rail, watching my wife, Jesse, hammer the last nail into a birdbox she had made. She must have felt my eyes on her, as she looked up from her work and smiled. A few moments later, she stepped up the stairs to where I stood and kissed me on the cheek, smelling of sawdust and lemongrass tea.
“The bluebirds are back,” she said. “I just saw them.”
“You haven’t lost your knack for building those things.”
“Plenty of practice. You got home late last night.”
I had spent the previous day transporting a man all the way from Lewiston up to the Portland lockup to await his trial. He stood accused of murdering his own wife and young child. It had been a long, depressing day, and by the time I completed the intake paperwork, locked up the substation in Meridian, and finally drove home to the ranch, Jesse was already asleep.
But this morning, everything in her expression seemed overflowing with hope and expectation. Springtime was her season and always had been.
“Want a hand putting that thing up?” I asked.
She replied by handing it to me, together with the hammer.
She watched me hang the birdbox on a post beside the vegetable garden, outside the kitchen window where I knew she’d spend her quiet mornings secretly observing the bluebirds as they built their nest and reared their brood.
“You plan on helping Caleb pick the new cowboys today?” She asked me when I came back inside.
It was the time of year when we hired a few temporary hands for Spring Works, when we’d round-up the cattle and calves from every corner of the ranch; we’d vet, brand and sort the livestock, and mend a perpetual string of breaks in the wire along miles of fenceline before we turned the herd out to the pastures for summer grazing. The Diamond D employed three permanent cowboys in addition to me and old Caleb Wheeler—our foreman for more than three decades—but with 63,000 deeded acres and another 14,000 under a Land Management lease, Spring Works was more work than the five of us could handle in the short span of time required to get it done. Every year a couple dozen hopeful itinerant riders, ropers, rodeo bums and saddle-tramps would answer the call for a temporary employment opportunity, and every year Caleb Wheeler got more riled up about what he viewed as the eroding quality of the contemporary American cowboy. He’d cuss and grump and holler about it, but he’d end up settling on three or four hands he reckoned could help us get the job done with a minimum of aggravation.
“I’m staying out of it this year,” I said, and Jesse grinned. “Figured I’d lay in a cord or two for the woodshed instead, before the weather gets too hot.”
“I saw some deadfall down by Corcoran’s,” she said.
“That’s where I was headed.”
“Make you some lunch to take with you?”
“I don’t intend to be out that long.”
“Good to hear,” she said, and winked at me before she turned, and stepped inside the house.
* * *
HALF AN HOUR later I was straddling a fallen spruce, angling the chainsaw to buck the trunk into three-foot rounds that I’d later split into quarters with the long-handled axe. The solitary labor, the sweat staining my shirt, and the burn down deep inside my muscles were a welcome balm after the week I’d had, and the air was rife with the smell of pine tar, sap and chain oil. I looked up and caught some movement in the distance, where the BLM forest gave onto an open range already knee deep with wildflowers and whipgrass. I recognized Tom Jenkins’ roping horse moving hellbent-for-leather across the flats, with young Tom leaning across her withers, one hand on the reins and the other holding his hat in place on top of his head. His mount was an admirable animal, a grullo Quarter Horse that stood nearly seventeen hands, fast and thick through the chest. Tom Jenkins handled her well, and he was beelining in my direction like he had something on his mind.
I killed the power on the chainsaw and set it in the bed of the military surplus jeep I use when I do ranch work, stepped over to the fence and took a splash of water from the canteen I’d hung in the shade of a young cedar. I didn’t have to wait long before Tom pulled up in a skidding stop inside a cloud of dust, throwing a cascade of torn earth and pebbles through the barbed strands of the wire.
“Mr. Dawson,” he said and touched a finger to his hat brim, sounding nearly as breathless as his horse. “I was hoping that was you.”
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” I asked, but suspected I already knew the answer.
When I’d first met Tom Jenkins, he was nothing but a kid with a limp handshake, no eye-contact, and the familiar slope-shouldered gait and posture of the typical aimless teenaged slacker. At that time, he’d been well on his way to serious trouble, the variety and scope of which would have landed him in a six-by-eight jail cell where the other inmates would have eaten him alive.
He is the nephew of my neighbor to the south of me, Snoose Corcoran, whose sister had sent the kid up here from California’s central valley to his uncle’s ranch in southeastern Oregon in hopes of putting some distance between young Tom and his unquestionably poor choices of acquaintances. Ill-equipped to deal with the boy himself, Snoose begged me to take the kid on as a maverick, and I’d reluctantly agreed. After six months working side by side with trail hardened cowboys on the Diamond D young Tom Jenkins’ attitude had been readjusted, straightening both his spine and fortitude. Now, at barely 18 years of age, Tom had assumed the reins of the floundering Corcoran cattle operation from his uncle Snoose, who had been gradually disappearing into a bottle.
“Cow and a calf went missing from my place,” Tom answered. “Fence busted by the westward line, and I figured them two mighta headed for the water.”
My ranch hands ended up nicknaming the kid “Silver,” after he’d astonished us all by stepping up and winning a silver buckle for the Diamond D in the team roping event at the annual rodeo. I knew Tom secretly treasured the handle they’d bestowed, wore it like a medal, but I never spoke it; that was between my men and him.
“Where’s your uncle?” I asked.
His shrug spoke sorrowful volumes.
“So, what set you hightailing over here to see me, son?” I asked. “What’s the trouble? Besides the missing beeves.”
“I was up there on the other side of the tree line,” he said. He twisted sideways in his saddle, took off his hat and gestured with it toward a distant stretch of blue sky. “There was an eagle making low passes over the meadow, so I stopped to watch it for a minute. It was so still and quiet out there, I could hear the eagle calling out while it was gliding on the thermals.”
“You don’t see something like that every day,” I said. “Not even out here in the boondocks.”
“No sir, that’s a fact,” Tom said. “But, while I sat there watching that creature flying, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, a helicopter come buzzing across the ridge, you know the one…”
“Big stone bluff, looks like somebody cut it down the middle with a KA-BAR knife.”
“That’s the one,” he said. “Well, that chopper came in fast, and went straight toward that bird…” The young man’s voice trailed off, his face contorted like he’d encountered a foul odor. “They circled it as it flew, like they were teasing it. Two men inside the—whattaya call it?”
“Cockpit.”
“Yeah, the cockpit. Then they started closing in on him, chasing it. The guy in the passenger seat had a rifle in his hands. I could see the barrel sticking out.”
What Tom was describing to me was not only a despicable and loathsome act, it was a serious crime. The mere harassment of a protected species is a federal offense; hunting and killing one merely for the sick thrill of it was another matter entirely.
“What happened, Tom?”
He swallowed drily, shook his head and looked down at the ground between us.
“He shot that bird right out of the sky, sir,” he said. “That eagle wasn’t even doing nothing, just gliding circles on the wind, and those assholes—sorry, sir—they shot him cold dead.”
I could imagine the creature’s confused and lonely cry as it spiraled down, bleeding, terrified and helpless, to the earth.
“You pretty sure about the location, Tom?”
“About four, five miles thataway, near the bluff, where the river makes that sharp bend to the south.”
“Did you get a look at either of the men?”
“Naw, they were too far away and moving pretty fast. But I got a good look at the whirlybird.”
I asked him for a description of the helicopter, and I knew right away he was referring to a Bell H-13, known to soldiers as a “Sioux.” They’d been in common use as scouting and medical evacuation aircraft by the military. I’d seen them every day when I was stationed in Korea.
“Like the choppers on that TV show?” I asked.
“Yes, sir. Exactly like on M*A*S*H.”
“Big glass bubble on the front? No doors? Looks kinda like a dragonfly?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you see any numbers written on it? On the tail? Or maybe on the underside?”
Tom Jenkins pressed his hat back on his head and gazed up at the empty sky beyond the forest, like he could return that beautiful animal to where it rightfully belonged through sheer force of his will. The high peaks beyond the meadow were streaked with deep blue shadows in the sunlight, their cloughs and gorges washed in purple and topped with snow so white it hurt your eyes.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I don’t remember seeing numbers or anything like that.”
His face took on the aspect of defeat, as though some personal failure had cost the animal its life.
“You did good, Tom. You did the right thing coming to me straight away. There was nothing else you could have done.”
He nodded once, his lips pressed tight, and he leaned down to adjust a stirrup that needed no adjustment.
“You want some help finding your cows?” I asked, thinking he might appreciate the company.
“I can do it, sir, but thank you. I can haze ’em back home on my own.”
“You gotta get eyeballs on the critters first. I can help you, son.”
“Thank you just the same, Mr. Dawson… Sheriff… Hell, I don’t even know what to call you.”
His expression softened for the first time since he’d showed up, a brief and fleeting smile, then his focus drifted far away again.
“Something else, Tom?”
“Just wondering.”
“Wondering what?”
“Do you think you can catch those guys who shot that bird?”
“I’m going to try my damndest.”
His eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
“What’ll happen to ’em if you do?”
I drew a bandana from the back pocket of my jeans, removed my hat, and dried the sweat that had been leaking from beneath the band.
“It’s been against the law to kill an eagle since the 1940s. If you’re not an Indian, you can’t even possess a single feather. If you get caught, you pay a steep fine and then they send you off to jail. If you’re a rancher, you could lose the leases on your land.”
Tom turned his gaze back on me, and I noted for the hundredth time that this young man no longer bore any resemblance to the person he had been on the day he first arrived here from California.
“That punishment don’t seem tough enough,” Tom said. “Not for what I seen ’em do.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He clucked softly to his horse, and reined her back in the direction from which they’d come.
“I’d better get a move on,” he said.
“Be careful out there, son,” I said to his retreating back, but my words were lost in the distance.
***
Author Bio
Baron Birtcher is the LA TIMES and IMBA BESTSELLING author of the hardboiled Mike Travis series (Roadhouse Blues, Ruby Tuesday, Angels Fall, and Hard Latitudes), the award-winning Ty Dawson series (South California Purples, Fistful Of Rain, Reckoning, and Knife River), as well as the critically-lauded stand-alone, RAIN DOGS.
Baron is a winner of the SILVER FALCHION AWARD, and the WINNER of 2018’s Killer Nashville READERS CHOICE AWARD, as well as 2019’s BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR for Fistful Of Rain.
He has also had the honor of having been named a finalist for the NERO AWARD, the LEFTY AWARD, the FOREWORD INDIE AWARD, the 2016 BEST BOOK AWARD, the Pacific Northwest’s regional SPOTTED OWL AWARD, and the CLAYMORE AWARD.
