Title: Flowers On Her Grave
Author: Jennifer Chase
Series: Detective Katie Scott, #3
Published: March 2020, Bookouture
Format: Paperback, 328 pages
Summary:
On the floor, amongst the piles of freshly pressed laundry,
lay the woman’s lifeless body, her pale yellow nightdress soaked in
blood.
“I didn’t do it…” came a whisper from the corner of the room.
Detective Katie Scott has never seen two people more
in love than her aunt and uncle as they danced on the decking the night
of their wedding anniversary party. But the next morning, when Katie
finds her aunt’s body sprawled across the floor, that perfect image is
shattered forever.
All fingers point to Katie’s uncle, Pine Valley’s beloved sheriff and
protector – after all, his prints are all over the antique knife found
at the scene. Grieving, but certain of her uncle’s innocence, Katie is
consigned to the cold case division after she’s discovered searching the
house for clues. Does someone want to keep her as far away from this investigation as possible?
Ignoring warnings from her team, Katie digs into her uncle’s old case
files and discovers photographs of the body of a young girl found tied
to a tree after a hike in search of a rare flower. Her body is covered
with the same unusual lacerations her aunt suffered. Katie knows it
can’t be a coincidence, but every lead she follows takes her to a dead
end.
Moments before the sheriff is arrested, Katie realizes that a single
piece of thread she found at the crime scene could be the missing link
that will stitch old crimes to new. But how can she prove her
uncle’s innocence without throwing herself directly into the line of
fire? She doesn’t have a choice, he’s the only family she has left…
********************************************************************************************************
About the author: Jennifer Chase is a multi award-winning and best-selling crime
fiction author, as well as a consulting criminologist. Jennifer holds a
bachelor degree in police forensics and a master’s degree in criminology
& criminal justice. These academic pursuits developed out of her
curiosity about the criminal mind as well as from her own experience
with a violent psychopath, providing Jennifer with deep personal
investment in every story she tells. In addition, she holds
certifications in serial crime and criminal profiling. She is an
affiliate member of the International Association of Forensic
Criminologists, and member of the International Thriller Writers.
Authors Links: Website | Twitter | Facebook
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble
********************************************************************************************************
EXCERPT
PROLOGUE
Stepping
from the main hiking trail, the park ranger took a moment in the shade
to catch his breath and stomp the caked dirt from his hiking boots
before beginning his search of the camping ground. Just as he was
finishing the last dregs of his water, the static from his walkie-talkie
interrupted the quiet of the forest around him.
“Rob, are you there yet? Over.”
Pressing the button, he replied. “Just got here. Over.”
“See anything? Over.”
Looking
around the campsite, he saw a pot with remnants of soup, two bottles of
water, and a blue tent. Everything looked normal, until he saw some
blue shreds of fabric tangled in the low-lying bushes. Curious, he
walked over to them, leaned down, and pulled one of the long pieces of
fabric out of the brush between his fingers. Something dark spattered
the end of the fabric.
“Rob? You there? Over,” headquarters asked again.
“I’ll get back to you. Over,” he said securing the walkie-talkie to his belt.
“10–4. Over and out.” And then the radio went quiet.
Rob
turned, searching the nearby area. “Hello?” he called out. “Hello?” he
said again — this time louder. “Cynthia? Cynthia Andrews?”
No response.
Rob
scanned every tree and bush within the vicinity, but there was no sign
of the missing grad student. Perhaps the girl’s family was right to be
concerned that she hadn’t contacted them in several days.
He
let out a sigh and watched as a light breeze swirled dust clouds on the
dry earth in the distance. And that’s when he saw it. The shredded
remains of a tent. His first thought was a bear attack, but few
inhabited this area. His hand twitched at the gun in his holster,
readying himself for what, or who, he was about to encounter as he
approached.
Camping
gear was scattered around the area: a large canteen lying on its side;
two extra gallons of water; several packets of freeze-dried foods; a
small skillet and a boiling pot. Ten feet away there was an open journal
lying next to a pink hoodie. He pulled out a small digital camera and
took several photos to see if Cynthia’s family recognized anything as
hers — if it came to that. He’d watched enough forensic shows to
understand documentation was extremely important for any type of search
or investigation.
Reaching
for the sweatshirt he flipped it over to find one of the sleeves
stained with dark blood, almost brown in color. He dropped the garment
on the ground in horror as the forest closed in and a flock of birds
burst from the trees above him.
Eyes
darting, he noticed large heavy footprints moving north accompanied by a
set of smaller, barefoot prints heading in the same direction, as one
followed the other — or chased.
He
felt the hair rise on the back of his neck and down his arms as he
followed the trail through clustered pine trees. Deep into the woodland
the footprints disappeared, replaced by divots and drag marks, the
obvious signs of a struggle in the dirt.
Where did they go?
The
wind, picking up, whipped and whispered through the trees forcing a
shower of pine needles and cones to drop around him. He spied an area
where small branches had been broken and followed the trail into a
clearing where he was surprised to find ropes tied around a large tree
trunk in unusual knots.
Slowly, filled with dread, he walked around the tree.
What
he saw on the other side would be burned into his memory forever, he
thought. The excessive violence. The horrifying, gaping wounds. The
terror in her glassy eyes. It took every ounce of strength he had to
take in the devastating scene before him.
The
young woman, barely clothed in a workout t-shirt that read “No Pain, No
Gain” and a pair of panties, had been bound to the tree with ropes
across her chest, hips, and thighs. Her arms were fixed above her head,
which now flopped forward limply. In between the restraints were wounds,
huge slices down each side of her stomach, allowing her intestines to
spill out. It was unclear if the wounds were caused by her killer or
wild animals. Chunks of her thighs and calves were missing.
Rob
stepped back as her hair stirred in the wind and stuck against her
face, caught in her slightly open mouth. He ran back to the original
base camp and fumbled for his radio. “Dispatch, we need the police up at
the first camp area from Dodge Ridge as soon as possible. We have…
there’s a…” he couldn’t find the words. He cleared his throat and tried
it again, “Dispatch, we have a dead body.”
********************************************************************************************************
Hopefully you’ve gotten a good feel for this book. This is a new author for me and I have added this book as well as the others in this series to my list of books to read. Let me know if you’ve read any yet or will be picking this one up!
