The Nora Abbott Mystery series Box Set

by Shannon Baker

  Abbey had waited out the storm in the cabin. Terrified and alone, he’d come through without a physical scratch, though Nora figured storms would always be an ordeal for him. He rested under the shade of a willow.

  Rachel didn’t look up. “The last of the immigrants left this morning.”

  Nora focused on a tiny yellow bud poking through the sand, amazed it fought back so quickly. “Did they get their assets returned?”

  Rachel’s shoulders drooped. “Lee’s not a monster, you know.” Nora didn’t know whether she agreed.

  Rachel defended him. “Why wouldn’t Lee believe Warren’s lies? You don’t know what it’s like to be raised in isolation, where you’re told only what they want you to know. Whatever they don’t like, they label as sin and fill you with such terror of Hell, you don’t dare rebel.”

  Nora said softly, “That’s what happened to you?”

  A sob caught in Rachel’s throat. “Until I met Lisa. She saved me.” They stood in silence, then Rachel continued. “I knew about Warren’s plans. I could have stopped it. But I felt loyal to my family. And I honestly didn’t think it would hurt anyone. The immigrants would wait, the space ships wouldn’t come, then everyone would go home.” More silence. “I should have known Lisa better. It’s my fault she’s gone.”

  The box Nora held felt too heavy.

  “But that doesn’t mean Lee was bad. He has a good heart. Warren and Darrell’s death have broken it, maybe even broken him.”

  They stood in silence for several moments.

  Rachel lifted her chin. “Okay. We came out here to say goodbye.

  We might as well do it.”

  Nora set the box of ashes on the sand. She pulled the screwdriver from the back pocket of her shorts and worked at prying the lid off. Abbey stood and trotted over to stick his cold nose on her cheek.

  Rachel bent over and scratched his ears and he sat back to lean on her legs.

  Nora set the screwdriver down and pulled the lid off to reveal a plastic bag. “Thank you for letting me be here.”

  Rachel’s throat worked before strained words came out. “I couldn’t do it alone.”

  Nora closed her fingers on the plastic bag full of course gray ashes. She lifted it and stepped toward the creek.

  Rachel hobbled after her and they stood together on a smooth rock on the bank at a bend in the creek. Nora slid the top of the bag open and offered it to Rachel.

  Tears streamed down Rachel’s face and she shook her head. She mouthed the words “I can’t” and broke down in sobs.

  Nora pictured a laughing Lisa, her vitality and passion clear on her face. She considered the creek and slowly let Lisa’s ashes sift into the running water and dissolve.

  When the bag was empty, Nora wadded it up and stuffed it in her pocket. Rachel’s sobs tapered off, and her fingers tentatively brushed Nora’s hand.

  Nora closed her hand on Rachel’s and they stood together, watching the creek. Finally Rachel stirred. “My ankle is hurting and I need to rest. Can you bring Lisa’s box?”

  “Of course.” Nora ached to think of Rachel picking up the threads of her life alone. She’d turned her back on her upbringing and now had no family.

  Rachel hobbled down the trail, leaving Nora and Abbey. A few minutes later the rumble of voices pricked their ears. Abbey’s tail wagged. If Nora had a tail, hers would be doing the same.

  Footsteps on damp sand kept tempo with her heart. Nora limped a few feet from the creek toward the trail. She couldn’t stop the goofy grin she knew was spreading over her face.

  Cole’s sandy hair and broad shoulders emerged from the cottonwoods along the trail. Nora was barely aware of her swollen knee and bruised hip as she shuffled toward him.

  Cole squinted into the sun and searched the clearing. When he spotted her, he broke into a wide grin and jogged toward her. In mere seconds, he threw his arms around her, lifting her into the air and crushing her against him.

  Pain from a hundred wounds zapped through her. She didn’t care. She clung to him with all her strength. She buried her face in the warmth of his neck and breathed in his comforting scent.

  They pulled apart and he bent to pat Abbey. “Your mother told me where you were.”

  “You didn’t need to come all the way out here, but I’m glad you did.”

  He slid his arms around her again. “I had to make sure you’re really okay.”

  “I’m sort of okay. Lots of bruises, and of course, I have major work to do if I’m going to present Canyonlands’ case to the board.”

  “Of course.” He chuckled. “But first, can I buy you some lunch?”

  “A girl’s gotta eat, right?” She hurried to retrieve Lisa’s box. She leaned down to heft it up when her gaze was drawn to a splash of blue showing through the sand. Her breath left her lungs and she stood motionless for several seconds.

  When her heart resumed, a smile danced on her lips. She brushed the sand away. The bright blue of the sash, as well as the feathers secured in his hand, identified the fist-sized kachina as hers.

  She didn’t bother looking around for who might have left the doll. She reached for the wooden figure. Energy surged through her fingers as she grasped him.

  She belonged.

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  Also by Shannon Baker

  The Desert Behind Me

  The Nora Abbott Series

  Height of Deception

  Skies of Fire

  Canyon of Lies

  The Kate Fox Series

  Stripped Bare

  Dark Signal

  Bitter Rain

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  Start your next Shannon Baker adventure with The Desert Behind Me. Be sure to check out the following excerpt.

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  THE DESERT BEHIND ME

  The mind never truly forgets. Even when it wants to.

  When a teenaged girl goes missing in Arizona, retired New York cop Jamie Butler is frantic to find her. Haunted by the brutal murder of her own daughter, Jamie is convinced that this girl has been abducted in the same way.

  But while others are slow to take alarm—the girl’s mother believes she is merely off on a lark—Jamie sees inexplicable similarities to her own daughter’s abduction. Connections that seem impossible. Because her daughter’s killer is long-dead...

  Already doubting her own grief-fractured mind, Jamie struggles to convince those around her of what she fears to be true. And as her search for the missing teen intensifies, new evidence comes to light.

  Evidence that implicates Jamie, herself.

  In a race to save the missing girl Jamie must finally confront her dark memories and unearth the long-suppressed secrets of her forgotten past.

  Perfect for fans of Girl on the Train and Into the Water.

  Shannon Baker delivers a dark psychological thriller filled with twists and turns. Gripping and sharply suspenseful, The Desert Behind Me will keep you guessing until the very end.

  Click here to purchase The Desert Behind Me now

  Turn the page to read a sample —>

  THE DESERT BEHIND ME: Prologue

  Four Years Earlier

  With all the evil people in the world, why did she target him? People murder children, beat them, neglect them. Terrorists drive trucks into families. Lone snipers open fire in crowds. Instead, she attacked him. He wasn’t hurting anyone. H
e gave them money and gifts. They loved him. Why else would they come to him whenever he asked?

  But she stuck her nose into it.

  She ruined it.

  She’ll pay.

  His family is destroyed. Emily and Tabitha are robbed of a father. Their mother will never afford the lifestyle he provided. Unless she remarries. Oh God, what if his beautiful wife remarries and his daughters call another man Daddy?

  The cloying scent of lilacs mixes with the musty smell of damp earth. Through the new leaves and purple blossoms, the blonde hunkers over a textbook, nibbling on candy under the garish light of a cheap chandelier. She’s pretty, but a little older than he prefers. Doesn’t matter. This time it’s not about desire.

  He’d been waiting for this opportunity. Almost given up, deciding to take her from school or a track meet. She’s careful, this little one. She’s watched over closely by a loving and attentive family. Still, there’s usually a breach, if one is patient.

  He’s patient.

  And smart.

  And justified.

  He grins at the thought of her pain. Both the daughter and mother. The one will be over in a matter of days. The other will suffer agony forever. Guilt, despair, horror. His one regret is that she’ll never know why. She should understand it’s all because she interfered where she had no business.

  If she’d have stuck to traffic tickets, DUIs, and burglaries, her daughter would live.

  Silent footsteps carry him from under the window to the front porch. This is the part he hates but there’s no other way. The knife is sharp because he hates his own pain. With a quick flick, he slashes above his hairline. A head wound bleeds so gratifyingly.

  Holding the knife behind his back, he opens his throat and howls. He bangs on the door. “Help me! Please! Car wreck! My daughter!”

  The sound of feet scampering through thin walls. She’s probably thrown down that gnawed pencil into her open book. The porch light has already been turned on to welcome her mother later. She peers through the peephole, taught caution so well. Too bad it won’t help her tonight.

  The Academy Award should go to him, but again, no one will ever know. Except this child, and she’s never talking to anyone else again.

  THE DESERT BEHIND ME: Chapter 1

  Look at me. Maybe I’m not cracking jokes or bantering, but I’m not hidden behind my front door. Or surrounded by white walls, people with white shoes squeaking on white floors. I count this as a good day and promise myself better days ahead.

  The exuberant energy of the Kino Elementary School fifth grade class rose from the playground. Hot desert sun sank through my black uniform and heat absorbed into my cap and beat on my bare neck where I’d tucked my ponytail under my hat.

  It smelled of hot pavement, sweaty kids, and the sage of the desert on the breeze.

  “It’s good to learn how to fight back if you’re attacked, but self-defense is more about preventing danger. Especially for us girls, who might not be as big as boys.” These children thought of the lesson as a game. I hoped they’d never learn what I carried in every breath.

  My partner, Patricia, fist bumped a chubby boy in baggy shorts. “You got it, Jose. Way to go!” Kids swarmed her, catching her enthusiasm like the flu.

  Though they were polite and attentive when I spoke or demonstrated a move, their affection gravitated toward Patricia. The kids might not warm to me as they once would have, but this afternoon marked real progress.

  Tara worried that being around the kids and teaching basic self-defense, especially this week, might be too hard on me. Mom did her best to persuade me not to take the assignment. So far, I’d maintained control, even if they’d never think of me as the fun one.

  We’d been assigned one of the volunteer student aides from the high school. A leggy blonde with a sweet smile. I couldn’t help but steal glances at her, even though each time was like a knife to my heart. She helped out two little girls in rumpled shorts and messy hair. Obviously not the most popular girls in the fifth grade, the young volunteer’s attention made them glow. The giggles from the three of them eased my discomfort a little.

  Across the playground a Pima County sheriff’s deputy worked with the younger group. Like Patricia, he seemed easy with the kids and they loved him. A Latino man, he was tall, broad shouldered, and had a teasing, confident attitude.

  “Officer Jamie?” The four-and-one-half-foot-tall, tow-headed girl, all arms and legs, tapped me on my arm.

  My muscles contracted, jaw clamping down for a split second before I registered the touch was no threat. “I’m an Arizona Ranger. You don’t have to call me officer.” I’d sounded stern and she hesitated.

  Patricia caught my eye. Vivacious and magnetic, Patricia was everything I wasn’t. We’d worked together often, as members of the all-volunteer Pima County Arizona Rangers unit. She’d been open and friendly, and I’d supplied her with the most basic details about me. She didn’t seem to care if I responded with less transparency.

  With conscious deliberation, I smiled at the girl in front of me and lifted my voice. “Officer is fine, too.”

  She met my smile, her teeth covered in braces, with bright pink bands. “I’m not sure I’m doing it right.”

  Swishing blonde ponytail, gangly limbs, a posture of such confidence she’ll conquer the world. Someone else’s pride and joy. Another mother’s child. Not mine.

  I waited for the tide to rise up and carry me off. Sadness pierced a hole into the warmth of the day, then faded to a dull ache. But I held together, no washing away.

  With a breath to clear my head, I softened my face. “Show me your moves.”

  I placed my hands softly around her neck and she brought her arms up, knocking me free. “Like this?”

  “Exactly.” I raised my hand for a high-five. She slapped my hand in triumph, then ran back to her friends. The spontaneous gesture felt foreign, but good.

  A real smile hit my face as I watched her practice with her friends. Movement caught my attention. My smile disappeared.

  Across the playground, on the other side of the chain-link pocked with blue and red Solo cups outlining KES, a man watched the group.

  Something about him. He wore pressed slacks, a blue golf shirt, a beige ball cap pulled low. More formal than usual Tucson attire, but not crazy. Nothing to alert me, except maybe the way he thrust his chest out, or the intense focus of his gaze, even if I couldn’t really see it from the hundred yards that separated us. Still, the hairs on the back of my neck flagged and an electric shock jolted me.

  The blonde helper with the two messy girls followed my attention. I must have looked alarmed, because her eyebrows cocked in curiosity. The man lifted his hand and waved, his white teeth flashed in a smile that sent a chill ricocheting down my back like a pinball.

  I couldn’t place the memory that hovered in my peripheral vision and I didn’t pull it any closer.

  I feel the darkness. See the moment of shock in his eyes when they focus on me. Then the smile in the night. Like a ghoul.

  My handcuffs brand my palms with cold, and the orange glow of a street light casts telephone poles in black shadow. Frosty air stings my face.

  Disgust clogs my mouth and tastes like ashes I want to spit onto the cracked pavement.

  All I can do was haul him in. I hope they lock him away for a long time.

  The memory dissipated and left me feeling sick. Where had I seen that smile? I couldn’t go after him because of the children surrounding me. Had Patricia spotted him, too?

  She stood in a crowd of children, all clamoring for her dazzling smile. Patricia wasn’t watching the man on the sidewalk. She seemed disconnected to the children crowding her. Her lopsided grin and unfocused eyes on the school building surprised me. She swayed, acting like Dad on those long-ago Saturday nights, before Mom ordered him to bed.

  Drinking on the job? That made no sense. One glance spared for the grinning man while I rushed toward Patricia. His shoulders pulled back and his chin ra
ised in a stance like a hero. He tipped the brim of the ball cap. That’s all the time I had for him as Patricia wobbled to the right, stumbled and staggered to the left.

  The kids around her laughed, as if she clowned for them.

  “Patricia!” I raced into the sea of little bodies and latched onto Patricia’s shoulders as she tilted, just in time to break her fall to the concrete. Her eyes closed and she mumbled unintelligibly.

  With only a flick of my head and a shout to alert the teacher’s aide, I yelled over my shoulder. “Call 9-1-1.”

  I patted Patricia’s black uniform pockets. “Where is it?”

  She swatted at me with feeble effort; her words sounded like she spoke through mud.

  “Come on,” I mumbled. “You always have it.”

  A body squeezed in next to me. The Pima County deputy leaned toward her. He grabbed her chin. “Pete. Hey, look at me.”

  My fingers tapped a bulge in her pants pocket and I fished out a plastic pouch the size of a man’s thumb. I bit the top off and a drop of sweet berry paste colored my tongue. With the pouch aimed at her lips, I directed the officer holding onto her chin. “Open her mouth.”

  He kept talking to her. “Pete. Hey.”

  The blare of an ambulance siren grew louder. “Open her mouth,” I shouted again.

  He turned dark eyes to me, noticing me for the first time. He looked confused as he scanned my face and then the plastic pouch. Finally, he seemed to understand. He pulled Patricia’s chin down. I thrust the opening of the pouch between her lips and squeezed.