Shadow in the Pines

by PJ Nunn

  Shadow in the Pines

  by

  PJ Nunn

  SHADOW IN THE PINES is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2013 by PJ Nunn

  Shadow in the Pines

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Tidal Wave Publishing, a division of BreakThrough Promotions.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  For information, contact Tidal Wave Publishing, 101 Sycamore St., Waxahachie TX 75165

  Cover design by Michael Canales

  Formatting by Polgarus Studios

  Other books by PJ Nunn:

  Angel Killer: A Shari Markham Mystery

  Private Spies: A Jesse Morgan Mystery

  Praise for Angel Killer:

  “Dr Shari Markham demonstrates skills Charlie Fox would be proud of in this tense hunt for a deranged serial killer. Crackles with romantic suspense.”

  – Zoe Sharp, author of Die Easy and the Charlie Fox Thriller series

  ANGEL KILLER by PJ Nunn had me riveted. As a Forensic Psychologist, I tend to be critical of such characters, but Ms. Nunn's lead character Forensic Psychologist Shari Markham hits the mark! I was immediately hooked when a child's body is found and Shari begins the "magic" of a Forensic Psychologist. More bodies add to the suspense and a love interest adds to a realistic feel. I was right there with Shari, as PJ weaved her words into a thriller. Captivating! Delightful! A+

  – Dr. Cynthia Lea Clark, Psy.D., Ph.D., MHt. CHS-IV Forensic Psychopathologist, Actress, Writer

  Tense and enthralling, ANGEL KILLER is a first-rate story of nail-biting suspense and unpredictable mystery. From page one it grips the reader and never lets go. Bring on more of Shari Markham, Dallas PD profiler. She's a winner!

  – Joanne Pence, author of the Angie Amalfi mysteries

  For anyone that loves a well written and thoroughly developed murder mystery, I recommend PJ Nunn’s Angel Killer. This book is dark and not for the faint of heart. It deals with a serial killer murdering the most innocent people in our society – our children. But don’t despair, the protagonist Shari Markham is on the case!

  – Michael E. Witzgall, Law Enforcement Consultant, Charlie-Mike Enterprises

  Praise for Private Spies:

  In what will hopefully be the first in a series the author has created a contrast to the typical super-competent detective with stellar self-defense skills and whose impulsiveness would be frustrating were it not for the fact that Jesse is completely aware of her flaws. Her emotions frequently override her thoughts, but what does become charming is that she actually grows and learns from her mistakes. Humor remains central to the core of this very complex and well-written mystery and readers will enjoy a heroine who manages to defy the odds and survive, often despite her best attempts to get herself killed. It's impossible not to somehow fall in love with this character who both exasperates and delights readers with her impetuous but always well-intentioned behavior.

  – Cindy Chow

  Maybe a little too much back-story slows the beginning of this novel, but don't let that stop you. Once the action starts, it is non-stop.

  – Pat Batta

  I enjoyed this very much. Kept me guessing. I had a hard time putting it down once I started reading. Great characters, especially Jesse. I would like to see them again in another book.

  – Leslie

  This is an engaging twisted private investigative thriller starring a wonderful rookie and the veteran trying to keep her out of trouble though she is a magnet for tsuris. Fast-paced from that first call, readers (and the sleuths) wonder what is going on as nothing is what it is supposed to be; the refreshing reason will stun the audience.

  – Harriet Klausner

  I loved the main character and the quirky way she gets the job done. There were lots of plot twists that kept the story interesting. I look forward to reading more. Very enjoyable!

  – Marcia

  “Because we focused on the snake, we missed the scorpion.” – Egyptian Proverb

  Acknowledgments

  From the time I was small, I was taught that if I could say it and believe it, I could do it. Like so many children of my era before technology took over our lives, I grew up in worlds of make believe and imagination, worlds created with my siblings and friends. My parents taught me to love reading; my Grandma Ford taught me to transition my pretending into becoming. I’m ever so grateful for that. And of course there have been countless others who made deposits of wisdom and knowledge into my life until I ended up surrounded by friends who were, like I am, writers.

  There are far too many of you to mention, but in particular as this book goes to print, I have to thank Earl Staggs, Jan Christensen, Pat Reid, Charlene Truxler, my clients, and so many others who daily remind me what a joy it is to be part of the widespread mystery writer’s community. I love coming to work with you every day.

  Then there’s Mike Witzgall, my partner in crime. He’s endured endless phone calls, text messages and emails while I try to make sure I don’t write anything that will make a cop throw the book against the wall. I promise if I messed something up it was my doing, not Mike’s.

  And of course I have to thank my family, especially my husband David and my two sons who are still at home, Dave Jr. and Caleb. Thank you so much for keeping things going around the household while I spent countless hours after work on the computer. I couldn’t have done this without any of you. Thank you all.

  Chapter One

  Maneuvering the Taurus as close to the front walk as she dared, Dani Jones got out and surveyed her surroundings. It was still daylight in town, but here, about three miles down a winding road, the dense foliage and canopy of trees cast eerie shadows and blotted out the early evening sun. What happened to the comfy and cozy the realtor promised? Visions of a cozy log cabin nestled among the trees with smoke trailing from the chimney while she snuggled on a sofa in front of a roaring blaze vanished as quickly as the smoke would in a burst of cold air. A quick glance at the back seat of her car reminded her she’d exchanged the thrill of buying her first house and starting a new life for the agonies of packing and moving. That might have tempered her enthusiasm just a little.

  Before her stood a log cabin. Her log cabin, now. Two stories of history, planted firmly in the midst of overgrown pine trees and an assortment of scraggly shrubs that reached out spindly limbs and grabbed her jeans as she walked by. The sidewalk was a collection of stones arranged in a semi rectangular pattern and pounded into the earth. The shadows and piles of fallen leaves and debris hid whatever grass there might have been. Since it was only late August, the fallout testified to total neglect of the landscape for at least a year. Uncovered portions of the yard were cracked and dry, with only a few sprouts of weeds scattered about to prove that it had once sustained life. The front porch would creak, she knew that before she set foot on it.

  The wind, whistling and rustling through the trees, gave her a chill even though it wasn’t cold. Dani scurried up the steps, digging in the snug fitting pocket of her jeans for the key. If she hurried, she might just get the car unpacked before it was really, truly, totally dark.

  Heaving the last box through the door almost an hour later, Dani sank down on it and kicked the front door closed, wrinkling her nose at the onslaught of stale, musty air that replaced the fresh, cedar scent of the outdoors. Home. From now on, this was it. Wearily, she pulled
the cap off of her head and ran long fingers through her short blonde hair and wondered for the millionth time if she’d made the right choice. But this was no time to dwell on the wisdom of her move, or lack thereof. Even though the boxes were inside, she had miles to go before she could sleep.

  The house came furnished; Dani bought it lock, stock, and barrel. At the time, it seemed preferable to making arrangements for all her things to be transported here from Austin, but now, looking at it close up, she wasn’t so sure. From the looks of it, most of the pieces had come from garage sales. One man’s trash, as they say. Outside, the logs gave the place character, but they weren’t visible inside. There wasn’t much character visible either, she mused, surveying the four white walls. Not even a nail hole interrupted their monotony. The only variation was a light smoke stain around the edge of the ceiling. It could be worse, though. It could be covered with hideous wallpaper she’d have to remove before she could redecorate.

  The stone fireplace, tucked away in the corner, showed promise. At least it would, if she patched and refinished the mantel. Oh well, she sighed, getting to her feet. She had a bed to sleep on and a table to set up her computer. She could replace it all, piece by piece, if she had to. Hadn’t she decided this was her chance to start life all over? Besides, out here in the boonies with no friends or relatives, what else did she have to do after work?

  Life for Dani, or Danielle Elisabeth Jones as she was legally known, hadn’t always been easy. Still, she’d managed to do okay. Raised alone by a single mom from the time she was six, she knew what it was to do without, but somehow, Mom worked hard and got her through college. When she married her college sweetheart and he graduated from medical school, she thought she’d made it. At least Mom died before things went bad.

  Mark Bridges was every mother’s dream for her daughter, according to him, anyway. That should have tipped her off a long time ago, but she was too intoxicated by his attention. Tall, dark and handsome, he imagined himself a real life clone of George Clooney on ER, and even started a first year residency in emergency medicine. Less than a month into it, he bailed, begging his way into another residency spot specializing in plastic surgery. After all, that’s where the real money was.

  At Mark’s suggestion, Dani postponed graduate school and went to work full time so they could afford the glamorous lifestyle of a doctor in spite of a resident’s salary. A chic townhouse in a high-class neighborhood. A used, but very flashy Porsche. All the right clothes to wear to all the right cocktail parties. How could she have been so blind? She’d heard all the stories, too, of women who worked to put their husbands through med school, only to get divorced when they made it. She just never believed it could happen to them. To her. He’d actually had the nerve to tell her that the reason he was first attracted to her was her blonde hair and the fact that she was just the right height to wear on his arm. Instead of complacently accepting it and understanding like he fully expected her to do, she experienced a wake up call that was long overdue. Their divorce was final almost a year ago.

  It wasn’t until she saw his wedding announcement in the Austin paper that she realized how deeply it had changed her. Whether it was a rebound reaction or a sudden taste of reality, she didn’t know, but suddenly, she had to get out of there. Two weeks later, she’d submitted an application for admission to grad school at the University of Texas in Tyler, secured a position in the lab there, and started a search for a house.

  The divorce settlement was surprisingly generous, awarding her the townhouse and all its furnishings, not that any of it held fond memories. Fortunately, she found a buyer right away and made a tidy profit on the sale. A couple of yard sales later, she was on her way, leaving Mark Bridges and her old life behind, and picking up the dreams she’d shelved for him almost ten years ago.

  Real estate in east Texas was considerably less pricey than in the elite Austin neighborhood they’d inhabited. Maybe she was naïve, but when the real estate agent tentatively suggested an old fashioned log cabin located outside of town, it seemed perfect. When she heard the price, it seemed better still. She paid cash for the house and still had enough left in the bank to support herself for a year or so, even without a job if she kept her budget under control.

  Hauling her suitcases upstairs, she dropped them on the four-poster bed and turned, catching a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. Moving closer, she peered at her image. Did she look thirty-four? She’d gained a few pounds since college, but she hadn’t lost her girlish shape. She’d always been lean. Faded blue jeans hugged her hips and thighs, still shapely and firm. Her waist was proportionately smaller than her hips, leaving a slight gap between the waistband and her waist. Her breasts were firm and full enough that a bulky sweatshirt didn’t quite conceal their presence. It was her face that drew her attention, though.

  Leaning closer, she examined herself critically. The makeup she’d applied this morning was long gone, but bright blue eyes looked back at her, large and wide. The beginnings of a few wrinkles were there, but it was nothing alarming. At least not yet. She could still pass for a coed, she thought. She was no prom queen, but she didn’t consider herself unattractive, either. Not that it mattered much. Attracting a new man was dead last on her things to do list.

  She’d been in shock since the night Mark first told her he wanted out. Her friends had encouraged her to start dating again, to get out and socialize. They’d even set her up a couple of times, but Dani could think of few things less appealing to her right now. It was time for her to learn how to function alone, to be self-sufficient. Time enough for men later, if ever.

  Opening the suitcases, she pulled out her clothes and sorted them into musty dresser drawers that smelled of cedar. When she was finished, she took a look in the bathroom, enchanted by the claw-footed tub that had intrigued her on her first visit. Finished in deep blue porcelain, it was by far the most attractive piece in the house. Promising herself to make a shopping list later, she filled the tub full with warm water, dug a novel out of her bag, and sank slowly into the soothing water.

  She stayed there until the water turned cold, half attending to her book and half allowing the gentle lapping of the water to wash the troubled thoughts from her mind. Toweling off and slipping into some sleep shorts and a tank top, she climbed beneath the handmade quilt that covered the bed and fell fast asleep.

  ***

  The first thing Dani noticed in the morning, aside from the bright sunlight streaming through the window, was the sound of the birds, so close they might have been in the room with her. A little disoriented at first, she sat in the bed, allowing the atmosphere of the house to sink in. So far removed from the city noise of Austin, it would take some time to adjust. Even though it was August, her feet were cold when they first hit the hardwood floors. Throw rugs, lots of throw rugs, she added to her mental shopping list. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even touched the air conditioning controls last night. The house must be well insulated, both by the logs and by the huge shade trees that surrounded it. No matter what part of Texas it is, it’s hot in August. Making another mental note to bring a coffee maker upstairs, she padded into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Dressing in jeans and a jersey T-shirt, Dani spent about an hour taking inventory and adding items to her growing list, then fired up the Taurus and headed into town.

  Tyler was small, compared to Austin. It would take some time to learn her way around. With the whole day dedicated to turning her house into a home, she drove up one street and down the next, stopping wherever the urge struck. Her first stop was a bookstore where she came out armed with a new stack of mysteries for late night reading. Next, she wandered into a Pier 1 Imports store and rapidly acquired an assortment of candles and doo-dads to make the place seem cozier. Moving deeper into the store, she selected a variety of throw rugs and pillows. Captivated by the sight of a huge basket swing, she immediately envisioned herself curled in its plush green cushion on the front porch with a tall glass of iced tea and
a good book. By the time she’d checked out and made arrangements for delivery, she’d already exceeded her self-imposed spending limit for impulse items, but went happily on her way.

  After stopping for a sandwich, she adhered more diligently to her shopping list, filling the wagon with necessity items like a coffee maker and vacuum cleaner, pots and pans, eating utensils and a small grill. To Dani, nothing tasted better than homemade hamburgers or a rack of ribs barbecued on the grill, but Mark thought cooking outdoors was tantamount to caveman behavior. Maybe his new wife was more civilized, Dani thought, giving the grill a shove to make it fit.

  By the time she’d finished at the grocery store, she was barely able to find room to squeeze in the bags. Content that she’d done enough damage for one day, she turned the car toward home, but a nursery outside of town beckoned and she surprised herself by turning into the lot. The cabin yard was really a garden waiting to happen, and she couldn’t resist the thought of replacing the neglected spidery shrubs with fresh new foliage and flowers.

  In the townhouse she shared with Mark, she’d been restricted to a window box and a couple of indoor ferns, but here there were no limits. Rationalizing that a vegetable garden would be cost efficient, she indulged herself, finding a sales clerk who was only too happy to help her select everything she’d need and then some.

  Dani spent the rest of the afternoon happily puttering around the house. Cleaning, placing shelf paper, arranging furniture accompanied by lilting music from her favorite CDs. When the delivery from Pier 1 arrived, she decided to take a breather, finding her new porch swing every bit as comfortable as it looked. Swinging gently in the evening breeze, she put a pencil to paper and spent the better part of an hour plotting out her new landscape in anticipation of a morning delivery from the nursery. Whether it was the calming effect of the country air or the exhaustion from the day’s activity, by ten o’clock she could barely keep her eyes open. Snug in her bed, freshly made with soft new flannel sheets, Dani slept like a baby.