Praise for Beneath the Surface
“This vivid start of Blackburn’s Dive Team Investigations series [is] a real page-turner.”
Booklist
“Fans of Dani Pettrey’s Alaskan Courage thrillers will enjoy this nail-biter of a series opener.”
Library Journal
“Award-winning author Lynn H. Blackburn grabs readers by the throat and doesn’t let go until the final heart-pounding page.”
Fresh Fiction
“Lynn H. Blackburn is an amazing new voice in romantic suspense—don’t miss her!”
Lynette Eason, bestselling and award-winning author of the Hidden Identity series
“[Blackburn’s] exceptional storytelling skills shine as she weaves an intricate plot, populated with characters we care deeply about. Another up-all-night-because-I-can’t-put-down-the-book read.”
Edie Melson, award-winning author, blogger, and director of the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference
“Beneath the Surface is a swoon-worthy romantic suspense that packs a punch from page one. The nonstop action will keep you guessing until the end.”
Rachel Dylan, author of the Atlanta Justice series
“Just when you think you can relax, Blackburn brings you back to the edge of your seat in this riveting, high-tension suspense story.”
Patricia Bradley, author of Justice Delayed
Books by Lynn H. Blackburn
DIVE TEAM INVESTIGATIONS
Beneath the Surface
In Too Deep
© 2018 by Lynn Huggins Blackburn
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-1503-8
Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. ESV Text Edition : 2011
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
To Drew—my favorite blue-eyed boy. My warrior child. You’ve had me wrapped around your little finger from day one. You’re fierce and tender, serious and silly, and I’m amazed that God allowed me to be your mom. I know God has big plans for you, and while I’m in no hurry for you to grow up, I’m excited to see what he has in store for you. I love you!
Contents
Cover
Praise for Beneath the Surface
Halftitle Page
Books by Lynn H. Blackburn
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
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31
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33
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35
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
Acknowledgments
Writing a series requires a long-term commitment from the author as well as from the men and women who’ve volunteered to help the author. There is no way I could write these stories without the input of a host of experts and the support of family and friends.
Continued gratitude to . . .
Josh Moulin, cybersecurity expert (https://JoshMoulin.com)—for answering long, disjointed emails and patiently explaining everything from hard drives to the dark web. Your willingness to answer my questions was vital to keeping this story on track. All mistakes and misrepresentations of the field are on me.
Mike Berry, Master Underwater Criminal Investigator (UCIDiver.com)—for reading my diving scenes and giving me direction on everything from safely removing a vehicle to how to find a briefcase and detailing which type of search pattern works best. Any mistakes in diving and underwater criminal investigation procedures are mine.
Jonathan Parker, director of city involvement at Fellowship Greenville—your insights into the labor trafficking in my own city and on the streets where I shop and work were crucial to the storyline and have had a permanent impact on the way I see the world I’m living in. Our conversation left me heartbroken, and my prayer is that eyes will be opened and these precious souls will be seen and freed.
Investigator Tim Martin—for explaining the world of white-collar criminal investigations to me and for helping me bring Adam to life in a realistic way.
Sergeant Chris Hammett—for your insights into the life of a homicide investigator and your gracious explanations of police procedures. Thank you for continuing to answer my emails!
Jennifer Huggins Bayne—my sister and favorite nurse practitioner for once again replying to countless texts about hospital procedures and setting me straight about CTs and MRIs and how fast you can get out of the ED. Your patients are blessed to have you advocating for them. And I’m eternally grateful to have you as my sister and my friend.
Mecina Hapthey and Angelina Zimmer—thank you for your insights into Yapese culture and the life of a missionary family. Anissa’s character wouldn’t exist without you.
Angel Glover—for sharing your experiences and helping me find a layer of complexity that Leigh was missing before your input.
My critique group—for helping me brainstorm this series. The storylines and characters are all richer because of you.
My sisters of The Light Brigade—you’ve been there for me from the beginning. Your prayers, love, and support are never more than a Facebook message away and I am eternally grateful for you.
Lynette Eason—for believing in me and giving the Carrington dive team such a fun case in one of your books!
Tamela Hancock Murray—my amazing agent. Thank you for your enthusiastic support and continued encouragement.
Andrea Doering—for saying yes to this series and to the crossover idea.
Amy Ballor—for editing this manuscript with an attention to detail that is both terrifying and thrilling.
Sandra Blackburn—for being the most supportive mother-in-law a girl could have and for being willing to do anything to help.
Ken and Susan Huggins—for being the kind of parents who taught me to work hard and love books and for still being there for me whenever I need you. Which is all the time!
Emma, James, and Drew—for still being excited about every new book and for continuing to keep my real world far more interesting than any I could make up.
Brian—without you there would be no stories with my name on them. My imagination never would have taken flight without your encouragement and your continual support and love.
My Savior—the Ultimate Storyteller—for allowing me to write stories for you.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditatio
n of my heartbe acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.
~ Psalm 19:14
1
The shrill ping of his cell phone earned white-collar crimes investigator Adam Campbell a vicious glare from his aunt Margaret. His cousins all dropped their gazes to their plates, several of them failing to suppress snickers, as Adam stood. He glanced around the table at the assembled family members before focusing on the matriarch of the family. “Excuse me, Grandmother. Everyone. I’m on call.”
Grandmother sniffed. “Very well.”
Conversation resumed as Adam made his way around the perimeter of the oval dining room. He refused to look down or run like a frightened schoolboy. He maintained a measured pace and made eye contact with anyone who bothered to look in his direction. He had nothing to be ashamed of.
His parents were in Italy until Thursday, or his mother would have given him an encouraging smile. Oh well.
No one glared at his brother when he was on call. Grandmother never batted an eye when Alexander needed to miss Sunday lunch because he was in surgery. But heaven forbid Adam miss the monthly meal. Keeping the citizens of Carrington, North Carolina, safe was a perfectly good job as far as Grandmother was concerned. But not for a Campbell.
Grandfather Campbell caught his eye.
And winked.
Adam didn’t bother trying to hide his smile as he left the room. His grandfather was a rock. They met for breakfast at least once a week at the Pancake Hut, and Adam regaled him with stories from the sheriff’s office.
The restaurant was a favorite with the law enforcement and medical communities in Carrington, and Adam’s standing breakfast date with his grandfather had gotten a lot of attention when he first joined the force.
The Pancake Hut wasn’t the kind of place the Campbell family usually frequented.
As Charles Campbell made it a point to get to know Adam’s co-workers by name, Adam’s fellow deputies soon realized he might be worth several billion dollars, but he was no snob.
It was a poorly kept secret that Charles Campbell was in the habit of picking up the tab for every law enforcement officer in the Pancake Hut whenever he was there—whether or not he was with Adam.
Grandmother wasn’t exactly aware of that arrangement.
Before long, deputies and investigators started coming by Adam’s desk and saying, “Yo, Campbell, I’ve got one for your grandfather. He’ll get a kick out of this.” Or they’d stop by their booth and share something that had happened while they were on patrol.
Grandfather ate it up.
Over the last few years, Grandfather had managed to fund several scholarships for law enforcement officers, and he’d fallen completely under the spell of homicide investigator Anissa Bell, captain of the Carrington County Sheriff’s Office dive team. All Anissa had to do was hint that she’d been eyeing some new piece of equipment for the team and Grandfather made it happen.
Grandmother wasn’t exactly aware of that arrangement either.
Adam paused in the hallway and looked again at the text that had saved him from another hour of family politics.
Uh-oh. He walked briskly as he maneuvered his way through the library and music room and then hit the marble floor of the large foyer.
“Everything okay, Mr. Adam?” The concerned words from the family’s longtime butler slowed his steps.
“Not really, Marcel. A car ran off the highway and over the embankment at the double bridges. Probably last night. A boater found the car this morning.”
The double bridges spanned Lake Porter and connected the tourist side of the lake to the city of Carrington. The car would have gone close to a hundred yards over bumpy terrain next to the bridge approach before plunging into the water.
Failed brakes?
Road rage?
Suicide?
It had happened before.
“Was someone in the car?” Marcel asked the question in a low voice.
When Adam nodded in the affirmative, Marcel shook his head in dismay.
Adam’s family, and Marcel was family, had come unglued when a car accident took Adam’s younger brother, Aaron, at the far-too-young age of ten. None of them had ever completely gotten over it.
“You going to have to get in? It’s cold.” Marcel handed Adam his coat.
“We have dry suits,” Adam said. “We’ll be okay.”
“Be careful, sir.” Marcel opened the door, and Adam broke into a jog. “Thanks, Marcel. Hold the fort.”
Marcel’s low chuckle reached his ears as he slid behind the wheel and took the turns of the lengthy driveway at a speed that would have gotten him on Grandmother’s bad list, if he hadn’t already been there.
It took fifteen minutes to reach the double bridges. The bridges had a formal name—after a local politician from the thirties—but no one used it.
He slowed as he approached the roadblock, then pulled in behind fellow dive team member and homicide investigator Gabe Chavez. Gabe climbed out first and met him at the door, giving a low whistle as he looked the Audi over. “When you gonna let me drive this baby?”
This was why he tried not to drive his personal vehicle to crime scenes, but sometimes he didn’t have a choice. Grandmother had given him the car for his college graduation—even though he had told her he didn’t need it—and she didn’t approve of him arriving for Sunday lunch in the unmarked sedan he drove for work.
He held the keys out to Gabe. “Any time.”
Gabe eyed the keys, longing evident on his face. “One of these days I’m going to take you up on it.”
Adam pulled his bag out of the back, locked the car, and pocketed the keys. He glanced at the line of cars on the side of the road. “Who else is here?”
“Ryan is hiking in the mountains with Leigh,” Gabe said. Homicide investigator Ryan Parker was the second-in-command on the dive team. His girlfriend, Leigh Weston, had survived an attack by a serial killer last spring.
“Hiking? Or proposing?”
Gabe grinned. “I guess we’ll find out when they get back. He got the text about this, but Anissa told him to disregard it.”
“You’ve talked to Anissa?” Gabe and Anissa hadn’t gotten along well since she’d kicked him off the dive team a few years ago when his undercover work had repeatedly kept him from making it to training dives. But since he’d come back to Homicide, and since two of their divers had left the team—one for medical reasons and another for retirement—she’d been encouraged to allow him back. Their relationship remained strained, but since the serial-killer case involving Leigh last spring, the tension between them had eased.
Slightly.
“Yeah. I talked to her. She bit my head off for being on the wrong side of town and told me to hurry up because she and Lane were already on the scene.”
“She didn’t call me,” Adam said.
Gabe smirked. “Man, it’s the second Sunday of the month. We all knew where you were.”
Adam bit back a retort. He loved his family. He really did. Some of them were awesome. Some of them weren’t. Same as most families, he imagined. And a sight better than a lot of the families he’d seen while working in the uniformed division. Even Grandmother’s disapproval, which irked him to no end, was part of her way of showing love.
At least Grandfather said it was. He said she worried over her grandson far more than her frosty demeanor indicated.
Gabe punched his arm. “Don’t worry about it, man. This is an evidence-recovery situation. Nothing we could have done for the victim even if we’d been sitting in the water waiting on the car.”
“How do you know?”
“The guy who found her said he was out here around lunchtime and saw the car. Dove in and pulled the body out. Probably destroyed a ton of evidence. He said she was limp in her seatbelt, but he thought maybe she was just unconscious. After he got her to shore, his take on it was that her neck was broken.”
Adam fought the image Gabe’s words created in his mind. He was sorry
for the victim. Horrified at the manner of death, whether it had been a dreadful accident or a successful suicide attempt. But he wasn’t sorry he wouldn’t have to be the one to pull her body from the water.
He scrambled down the incline to the waterline. There would be no need for any of their fancy sonar equipment on this case. He could see the car from the edge of the lake. Dive team captain and homicide investigator Anissa Bell and Deputy Lane Edwards were in dry suits, checking tanks and gauges.
“’Bout time,” Anissa said. “We’re shorthanded. Chavez, sketch the scene. Campbell, get suited up for backup, but you’re on topside evidence. Get the path of the car, etcetera. I want all of it documented before we pull the car out and contaminate the scene.” Anissa pointed to a makeshift changing area—a couple of tarps tied up between a few trees. “And be quick. We don’t want to run out of daylight.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Adam said.
Gabe glared at Anissa for a second before grabbing a sketch pad and getting to work. “She thinks she’s being mean, but I didn’t want to get wet today anyway.”
Adam didn’t bother responding to Gabe’s mutterings. Partly because he wasn’t so sure Anissa had been trying to be mean. As far as he was concerned, she’d given the worst job to him. It took him fifteen minutes to change out of his clothes, get into the dry suit, and prep his own tanks and gauges so he had everything ready if Anissa or Lane required assistance.
He tried to ignore the shrouded body near the water’s edge. They couldn’t do anything about the evidence destroyed by the man who’d jumped in the lake and tried to save the victim. Even after he was sure she was dead, he’d gone down repeatedly until he freed her and pulled her body to the surface.
Adam focused on the work Anissa and Lane were doing in the water, prepping the car to be retrieved. The car was in water shallow enough that they didn’t need lift bags to float it to the surface. They would be able to tow it out of the water with a wrecker.
Anissa was using this as an opportunity for Lane to be the rigger—he would wrap a chain around the car’s axle a few times and then stretch the chain to the shore, where it would be hooked to a tow truck. Anissa was acting as the safety, observing everything and ready to assist if Lane needed it.
In Too Deep Page 1