Recovering her missing memories could be the key to
solving a murder. Searching for her best friend’s remains could help forensic
anthropologist Melanie Hutton regain her memories of when they were both
kidnapped—unless the killer gets to Melanie first. For her safety, Melanie must
rely on Detective Jason Cooper, who still blames her for his sister’s death.
Can Jason set the past aside to solve the cold-case murder…and shield Melanie
from the same fate?
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“Does it still hurt?”
She jumped.
“Didn’t mean to startle you. Guess I have a habit of
doing that.” Jason rested against the neighboring tree.
Several deep breaths later, she forced a smile. “It’s
okay.”
He narrowed his gaze and studied her a moment. “Well?
Does it?”
“A little.” Truthfully, a lot, but Jason didn’t need to
know that. “I, uh, wanted to thank you for watching out for me today.”
“Just doing my job.” The muscles in his neck and shoulders
tensed.
“We both know it’s more than that.” She wiped her hand
down her face. “Jason. We’re going to be working together for the foreseeable
future. Do you think we can call a truce, at least while we do our jobs?”
His jaw twitched, and he remained silent.
She’d asked a lot, but the strain between them had to
stop. She watched him for a few minutes then shook her head.
“Never mind.” She pushed from the trunk and limped to the
hole in the ground. Her lead-filled heart threatened to drop to her feet. To
think that fifteen years ago, she’d had a crush on him. He’d teased her and
Allison, but he’d never allowed others to speak unkind words to them. If only
she could return to those carefree days. The days before she had died on the
inside and her friend had died for real.
Someday, Allison, I’ll find your body. I promise.
She swiped the wetness from her cheeks and lowered
herself into the grave. The movement mimicked her mood. She picked up her
trowel and searched for more bones.
An hour later, Melanie’s headache had become unbearable,
causing her stomach to roil. Just what she needed, to lose her lunch in front
of Jason. Scanning the grave, she spotted the paintbrush she used for delicate
work. She grasped the handle, but dropped it. She tried again, but her fingers
refused to cooperate. Her eyelids grew heavy. Something was off. She sat on the
edge of the hole.
“Jason, help.” Her words were slurred. She struggled to
stay upright. The trees in front of her blurred and swayed.
He kneeled down and came face-to-face with her. “What’s
wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
“Help me out here. What’s the last thing you did?”
“I—I…” She struggled against the gray cloud jumbling her
thoughts. “Took a break a while ago. Only digging since.”
His gaze flew to a spot behind her.
She wilted into him. Her vision tunneled, and darkness
closed in.
“Keith! Grab the cooler and her bag!”
Jason’s frantic voice registered, but her body had shut
down.
His warm arms lifted her. Her head bobbed and landed on
his shoulder.
Her cheek bounced against his chest in cadence with the
pounding of his feet on the path.
His rhythmic breathing was the last thing she heard
before the world went dark.
About SAMI A. ABRAMS:
Photo Credit: N/A
Two-time Genesis winner Sami A. Abrams and her husband live in Northern California, but she’ll always be a Kansas girl at heart. She enjoys visiting her two grown children and spoiling their sweet fur babies. Most evenings, if Sami’s not watching sports, you’ll find her engrossed in a romantic suspense novel. She thinks a crime plus a little romance is the recipe for a great story. Visit her at http://www.samiaabrams.com.
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