Bone Maker: Will Finch Mystery Thriller Series Book 1

by D. F. Bailey

  “Believe me, it’s true. Wally sent me over to her place on Russian Hill this morning to piece it together.” She waited, a long pause. “She jumped from the Golden Gate Bridge. Her body was found below Pier 45 this morning. All the cable news stations are broadcasting the whole thing right now.”

  “I can’t believe it,” he moaned. Finch drew a hand over his eyes. He felt dizzy. Completely lost. “What a disaster.”

  “Yeah.” She waited, as if the pause might restore his equanimity. “You need to get back here.”

  He thought about Gianna, about her soft, full body. Then about the insight he had lying in the hospital bed, his head ringing, earlobe shot off, jaw shut and swollen, his mind spinning with the impact of his own mortality and the deaths swirling around him. Gruman. Smeardon. But most dear of all, Buddy — beautiful, lovely Buddy. Gone forever. That was his epiphany, the well-worn cliché, that only a life well-lived made death bearable.

  “Are you all right?”

  He drifted a moment and realized that everything had been destroyed. He had recordings of Gianna, Smeardon, and Gruman — all the sources who could verify the story. Now Gianna dead, too. He watched a little whorl of fog waltz across the sidewalk. A dog barked in the distance. Baying.

  “Look, Fiona,” he gasped. “Gianna didn’t … kill herself.” The words were supposed to sound convincing, but they fell from his tongue like wet spittle.

  “Will, she posted a note. On Facebook.” She paused. “Toeplitz was her lover, right?”

  “I know. I know about her and Toeplitz. You don’t have to tell me about that.” He took a moment to gain control of his voice. “Fiona, just listen to me. Gianna was murdered, too.”

  She said nothing. Better to let him rave than contradict his certainty.

  He tried to think what to do. “I’m coming home,” he said.

  “Okay,” she said. “Things will make more sense back here. I’m sure of it.”

  He clicked off his phone and stared into the gray fog that now surrounded him. A stream of cars and trucks crept through the bleak shroud, crawling toward him from both directions and then vanishing into the mist as they slipped away. He flicked on the headlights, set his fingers on the car keys and wondered when he would find the strength to start the ignition.

  Soon, he whispered to himself, soon. Then he would make his way home. And find Gianna’s killer.

  ~ Bonus Feature ~

  For a limited* time, readers are invited to participate in a “Read-and-Review” program and get a free copy of Stone Eater, the second novel in the Will Finch Trilogy. Here’s how it works:

  • If you enjoyed Bone Maker, then write an honest book review and publish it on Amazon’s Bone Maker book review page

  • Email a link to your review to don@dfbailey.com

  • A PDF version of Stone Eater will be sent to your email in-box

  * NOTE: this is a time-limited offer restricted to the first thirty (30) reviews. Please visit Amazon’s Bone Maker book review page to determine if the offer is still valid by checking the number of posted reviews.

  For a special sneak peak of STONE EATER,

  the second novel in D. F. Bailey’s Finch trilogy,

  turn to the next page.

  STONE EATER

  Chapter One

  Along the bay below Russian Hill the fog horns blew in irregular sequences. Their pitch modulated from high to low as a parade of ships eased through the low mist under the Golden Gate Bridge. But high above the haze a clear night wind rose in light gusts and when the breeze touched the tree limbs outside Gianna Whitelaw’s bedroom windows they tapped in erratic ticks against the glass.

  Cutting through the calling horns and the rising wind, a metallic click sounded in the hallway. The noise startled Eve Noon and turned her attention from Gianna’s dresser drawers to the front door. She eased out of the bedroom and stood in the hallway, her ears tuned to the sound of intruders. She sniffed at the air. Nothing but the faintest trace of chocolate. Had Gianna been baking over the past day? Very unlikely. The girl didn’t know her way around a kitchen and rarely opened the pantry door. Unless a man appeared on the horizon. Perhaps this was someone new?

  A key slid into the front door lock and Eve drew a shallow breath. She clicked off the light and the apartment blinked into darkness. Her hand swept through her shoulder bag to ensure that she’d gathered everything she’d come for: Gianna’s cell phone, her laptop computer, the file folders and thumb drive that Raymond Toeplitz had entrusted to Gianna’s care. Assured that she had everything in hand, she forced herself to tread through the kitchen to the back door. Then she unlocked the deadbolt, braced her fingers on the door nob and waited. She knew that the door led onto an open-air staircase that zigzagged down three stories to the courtyard. In an emergency she could sprint to the ground in ten seconds.

  But better to wait to confirm any danger, she reasoned. If the stranger hesitated or simply moved on, she could continue her search through Gianna’s apartment and burrow through the strange world her friend had concealed over the past ten years. Despite her suspicions, she had no idea what she might find.

  All these thoughts dashed from her mind when she heard the key rotate and the lock mechanism unlatch. A moment later she heard the door swing open, then slip closed. The apartment remained in darkness and when she heard a set of heavy footsteps tread along the oak floors she turned the knob to the kitchen door and eased it open an inch. Before departing, she’d like to catch a glimpse of the new guest. After all, it was possible that it could be a friend — another ally come to Gianna’s aid. This thin hope almost prompted her to call out, but her years of police training weighed in; she drew another breath to steady her nerves and leaned into the crevice between the pantry closet and the rear wall and pulled her hoodie over her head. You’re invisible, she assured herself.

  A moment later her eyes followed the beam of a flashlight as it tracked back and forth across the hallway floor. The intruder crept along the corridor to the kitchen, paused, swept the light across the counter tops and appliances, the cluttered eating nook, the butler’s desk that folded down from the wall next to the microwave. Apparently satisfied, the prowler turned the lamp back to the hallway and moved toward Gianna’s bedroom where Eve had been digging for valuables just minutes ago. As he swung about, the flashlight reflected in a mirror behind him and Eve could see the prowler. His size shocked her. He stood almost seven feet tall, his shoulders and neck thick as a bear. His nose and lips tapered into a broad snout. No friend of Gianna’s, she concluded. Not even close.

  The revelation convinced her that now was the time to move on, but she wanted to wait until she heard him shuffling through the drawers or closets. That might provide enough distraction to cover the sound of her padding down the exterior staircase. With luck, the burglar would never know that Eve had entered Gianna’s condo. Never know that she’d gathered the possessions that Gianna asked her to retrieve in her last text message.

  She pushed the door. It moved two or three inches and hit resistance. She pressed her face to the opening and looked onto the narrow landing. A metal garbage pail stood in the middle of the deck. Had Gianna dragged it there from inside the kitchen to create some kind of barrier? She cursed and pressed her weight against the door to shove the pail forward. Another four or five inches was all she needed. She turned her head back toward the hallway and tried to detect any sounds from the bull pawing through Gianna’s underwear. Nothing. With another nudge the garbage can scraped across the plank surface with a stutter, the sound of metal on wood.

  She turned sideways and wedged her shoulder past the door jamb. At the same moment she heard the rubber squeak of running shoes cutting from the bedroom through the hallway and into the kitchen. The pace sounded steady but halting, as if the runner might be lame. She turned her head back to the doorway, pressed her chest against the door and realized she couldn’t squeeze through the narrow opening. Sensing real danger now, she stepped back, lifted her
left leg into the air and smashed her foot into the door. It swung free and the garbage can crashed against the railing and tumbled down the staircase. At the same moment she felt a hand grip her left forearm. Then she felt the pain.

  “Hold on there, little pony.” He spoke with a harsh cockney accent. “Where do you think you’re trotting off to?” His fingers tightened and began to pry her back into the kitchen.

  When she turned she could see he was even bigger than she’d imagined. His awkward smile revealed a row of flat, simian teeth. She dropped the bag from her free hand spilling the contents onto the deck. She swung around to face him and in one jab, hammered him squarely in the Adam’s apple. A second shot hit the bridge of his nose, crunching the cartilage as her knuckles landed below his eyebrows. A look of shock crossed his dull eyes and his hand fell away from her arm and brushed over his face.

  While he struggled to recover, Eve scrambled to sweep Gianna’s belongings back into her shoulder bag. As he flailed about, the beast managed to land a right hook on her left cheek. She cried out and as she stumbled backward, his arm snagged the strap of her bag. The phone, thumb drive and files flew onto the deck again. He let out a grunt, a laugh from the center of his gut, and drew the bag to his chest. Eve could see he was not about to release anything that came into his possession. She set her jaw, swung her leg wide and landed a round-house kick in his crotch. He bounced against the open door frame and slumped to the floor. Eve shoved the thumb drive and cell phone into her pocket and clambered down the stairs leaving the paper files and laptop computer behind. At the second floor landing, she climbed over the garbage pail. A moment later she stood on the courtyard and glanced up at the apartment. Certain that he still lay flat on the floor, she adjusted her clothing and considered the outcome of the skirmish. She’d secured the phone and thumb drive but the bull now had Gianna’s computer and paper files and Eve’s shoulder bag. At best, a draw. She primped her hair into place and strolled through the brick archway that led onto Lombard Street.

  Bastard, she whispered to herself, and released any regrets about losing the bag — just another carry-all from Trader Joe’s. As she moved onto the street she saw a gray-haired woman struggling uphill, a cane in one hand and a leashed poodle at her side. Eve stepped past her and smiled.

  “Hello,” she said, loud enough to assure the older woman that they were both alive and well. For another night, at least.

  A reporter on the rebound.

  An ex-cop with nothing to lose.

  A murder they can only solve together.

  Sparks fly when Will Finch agrees to work with Eve Noon to uncover a murder plot. But can they unmask the Stone Eater before he destroys them both?

  ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY

  ~ Bonus Feature ~

  Curious about Will Finch’s background? Now you can uncover the mystery behind his experience in Military Intelligence in Iraq. Learn about his childhood, family life, and education. Read the confidential psychiatric assessment of Will Finch from the Eden Veil Center for Recovery. Get this free PDF when you email the first six words in Chapter Sixteen of STONE EATER to don@dfbailey.com

  In summary:

  1. Enter “Send my Free PDF” in your email subject line

  2.Type the first six words of STONE EATER — Chapter 16 — in the body of your message

  3. Email your request to: don@dfbailey.com

  Read the Complete Will Finch Trilogy

  Bone Maker — A death in the wilderness. A woman mourns alone. A reporter works a single lead. Can Will Finch break the story of murder and massive financial fraud? Or will he become the Bone Maker’s next victim?

  Stone Eater — A reporter on the rebound. An ex-cop with nothing to lose. A murder they can only solve together. Sparks fly when Will Finch agrees to work with Eve Noon to uncover a murder plot. But can they unmask the Stone Eater before he destroys them both?

  Lone Hunter — One billion dollars. Two killers. Three ways to die. Will Finch and Eve Noon bait the trap. But could their clever ploy trigger catastrophe when two killers battle for a billion dollar prize? Or can Will and Eve defeat their most cunning adversary yet?

  Enjoy These Other Novels by D. F. Bailey

  Fire Eyes — a W.H. Smith First Novel Award finalist

  “Fire Eyes is a taut psychological thriller with literary overtones, a very contemporary terrorist romance.”

  — Globe and Mail

  Healing the Dead

  “You start reading Healing the Dead with a gasp and never get a proper chance to exhale.”

  — Globe and Mail

  The Good Lie

  “A tale that looks at a universal theme…that readers are going to love.”

  — Boulevard Magazine

  Exit from America

  “Another great story of moral revelation, despair and redemption by a contemporary master.”

  — Lawrence Russell, culturecourt.com

  Bone Maker

  Copyright © D. F. Bailey 2015: Registration #1125430

  ISBN: 978-0-9687283-7-6

  Published by CatchwordPublishing.com

  Edited by Rick Gibbs

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Bone Maker is a work of fiction. The resemblance of any characters to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Names, characters, places, brands, media, situations, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Acknowledgements — I am extremely grateful to Yvette Brend, Lawrence Russell, Rick Gibbs, and my wife Audrey for reading the early versions of Bone Maker. Their insights, wisdom and advice were invaluable to me as I worked through the final draft of the novel. — DFB

  For more information about D. F. Bailey and to subscribe to his free newsletter, “Digital Words,” visit dfbailey.com.