Daryl Wood Gerber - Desolate Shores

Desolate Shores

After finding the body of her best friend on the icy shores of Lake Tahoe, Aspen Adams refuses to stand by and watch as the local sheriffs department begins their search for the killer. Launching her own investigation, shes soon confronted with a growing array of secretsboth about the friend she thought she knew and about many of the people in her own life. As fragmentary clues and escalating dangers threaten to derail her, she must also cope with the disturbing behavior of her deadbeat sister and troubled teenage niece.

Determined to overcome her personal demons over past failures, Aspen is driven to unravel the conflicting evidence and a shifting range of suspects to bring the killer to justice, even as a family trauma unfolds that threatens to upend her life. And as her investigation inexorably leads her to a shocking discovery and taunts her with a solution that is just out of reach, Aspen realizes that the killer wants nothing more than to see her and her niece dead...

Title Page

Copyright

Desolate Shores

Daryl Wood Gerber

Copyright 2019 by Daryl Wood Gerber

Cover design and illustration by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

Published by Beyond the Page at Smashwords

Beyond the Page Books

are published by

Beyond the Page Publishing

www.beyondthepagepub.com

ISBN: 978-1-950461-19-6

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Your support of the authors rights is appreciated.

Dedication

To my husband, Chuck.

There from the first book I wrote. Here, forever.

Acknowledgments

Success is not final; failure is not fatal;

it is the courage to continue that counts. Winston Churchill

This is a story that has haunted me for years. It was one of the first books I wrote, prior to my cozy mystery series. I had many early readers who enjoyed the story, but a few agents said they couldnt sell it. Deflated, I set it aside. Often Id wanted to rewrite it and resubmit, but I couldnt find the time. Some author friends recommended that I let it go. But the story, as I said, haunted me. And I found the time to rewrite. Boy, did it need it. My style had changed drastically. I hope you enjoy the journey of Aspen Adams, a character who is close to my heart.

To my family and friends, thank you for all your support.

Thank you to those who have helped make this first in a new suspense series a success: my publishers, Beyond the Page, including Bill Harris and Jessica Faust; my cover artist, Dar Albert; my agent, John Talbot; and my sweet sis Kimberley Greene for your undying support.

Thank you to my talented author friends Krista Davis and Hannah Dennison for your words of wisdom and encouragement. Thank you to all of my author pals on Mystery Lovers Kitchen, Plothatchers, and to my fans on Delicious Mysteries. Thank you to my first readers from the Cake and Dagger Club who inspired me to move forward with other projects. Your enthusiasm for my suspense novels has been very important.

Thank you to all my readers, including librarians and booksellers, for taking the journey with Aspen Adams as she opens her heart to the new life she craved by moving to Lake Tahoe. Thank you for sharing your love of the story with a friend. An authors story cannot come alive without all of you.

Contents

A wave cracked against the shore. A seagull cawed and shrieked. I snapped my head to look. The bird circled overhead and glided to a log on the shore. I stopped running along the pavement, peered harder.

Logs dont wear shoes.

I leaped over the fence and bounded down the slope, slipping on the snow. Even through the icy powder that dusted her face, I wouldve recognized her.

Vikki, are you okay? I yelled.

She didnt answer.

I skidded to a stop and gasped.

Silver-blue crystals clung to her face. Her lips were ghostly gray, her translucent skin pasty. Her chestnut hair flared around her head like fiery rays radiating from the sun. Her burgundy sweater clung to her torso. Her chest wasnt rising and falling. Dark goo pooled beneath her neck and hair. Blood.

I checked her pulse. Nothing. I straddled her and pressed on her chest. Counted to ten. Pinched her nose. Managed three short breaths. Pressed my ear to her mouth. Still nothing.

If only I could lift her, I could carry her to the road. But I wasnt that strong. She was much taller than I was.

Somebody, help! My voice echoed off the icy beach.

No reply. Even the most avid skiers in Lake Tahoe werent driving to the slopes before seven.

Frustration clamped down around my guts. Tears stung my cheeks. My breath seemed stuck in my chest. I wasnt sure I could survive if someone else I loved died.

Sweat streamed down my neck as I pressed on her chest again. Cmon, Vikki, breathe. One, two, three. Say, Hello, Aspen, tricked you. Cmon.

Only last month she and I had celebrated her twenty-eighth birthday with chocolate cake and champagne. Vikki took ten tries to blow the candles out before I admitted they were stay-lit candles. I had laughed so hard.

Breathe. Wind sliced my face. The usually invigorating aroma of pine made me gag. I slid back on my heels and stared.

What had led her to the beach in the middle of the night? An urgent desire to gaze at the stars? A tryst with a secret lover?

I keened at the top of my lungs. I wasnt sure I could stop.

It was predawn when Id started my run. Now the sun was creeping over Cave Rock. A thin, shimmering path of sunlight streaked across the deep azure waters, promising a glorious day. Buoys danced as waves crested and receded. The beauty was why I had moved to Lake Tahoe. To start a new life. To heal.

I felt cold nausea clawing at my throat. I was going to puke.

Dont you dare. Hold it together.

Right palm over left hand, I pressed again on Vikkis sternum.

Hey, you, down there, a man yelled from the road beyond the fence. I couldnt make out his face. You need help?

Yes. I stood, but my feet slipped on the ice. I landed on my rear by Vikkis side.