Michelle Mazzanti and Kristy Price, an authors best friends.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Pamela SF Glenn, CNM, MSwithout whose expertise in midwifery this story would not have been possible. My deepest gratitude for poring over manuscript after manuscript with sharp eyes and a ruthless pen, keeping me straight. And to Sharon Lampert, RN, WHNP, for sharing her expertise as a womens health nurse practitioner, but mostly for picking up your cell phone no matter where you were and answering delicate questions about female anatomy and function with directness and honesty. Im sure there are people out there still talking about what they overheard in the grocery store, beauty parlor and Department of Motor Vehicles. The passion and devotion with which you two professionals serve your women patients is inspiring, and was an enormous help in shaping the character of a dedicated nurse practitioner and certified nurse midwife.
Thanks to Paul Wojcik for sharing your experiences in the United States Marine Corps, and to Richard Gustavson, RN with twenty-three years in the Navy Reserves. I thank each of you for reading the manuscripts and for offering your invaluable technical input.
Kris Kitna, Chief of Police, Fortuna, California, thanks for valuable information on local law enforcement, not to mention help with details about hunting, fishing and firearms.
Kate Bandy, the best assistant a writer can possibly have, my dear friend of many years, thanks not only for reading copy and offering suggestions, but especially for accompanying me on an exciting research trip to Humboldt County. Without you there I would have flounderedor slipped off a mountain.
Denise and Jeff Nichollthanks for reading first drafts, taking exhaustive notes and answering a million questions. Your friendship and support during the whole process means the world to me. Many thanks to Nellie Valdez-Hathorn for her help with my Spanish.
Other early readers whose input was critical included Jamie Carr, Laurie Fait, Karen Garris, Martha Gould, Pat Hagee, Goldiene Jones and Lori StovekenIm deeply in debt to you for your comments and suggestions.
Huge thanks to Clive Cussler, Debbie Macomber and Carla Neggers for reading and commenting on the Virgin River series in the first place. For you to take the time, with your busy schedules, is a monumental compliment.
Huge thanks to Valerie Gray, my editor, and Liza Dawson, my agent, for your commitment to helping me craft the best series possible. Your hard work and dedication made all the differenceIm so grateful.
To Trudy Casey, Tom Fay, Michelle Mazzanti, Kristy Price and the entire staff of Henderson Public Libraries, thank you for the monumental support and encouragement. Ive never known a more hardworking and motivated group of public servants.
And finally, thanks to Jim Carr for your loving support. And my God, thank you for cooking! I wish Id known years ago that you could!
Contents
One
M ike Valenzuela was up and had his Jeep SUV packed long before sunrise. He had a long drive to Los Angeles and meant to get an early start. Depending on traffic around the Bay Area, the drive would be eight to ten hours from Virgin River. He locked up his RV, which was his home. It sat on the property at Jacks bar and grill; Jack and Preacher would keep an eye on it for him, not that Mike expected any kind of trouble. That was one of several reasons hed chosen to live hereit was quiet. Small, peaceful, beautiful and nothing to disturb ones peace of mind. Mike had had enough of that in his former life.
Before coming to Virgin River permanently, Mike had made many trips to this Humboldt County mountain town for hunting and fishing, for gathering with an old Marine squad that was still close. His full-time job had been with LAPD, a sergeant in the gangs division. That had all ended when he was shot on the jobhed taken three bullets and had a lot of hard work getting his body back. Hed needed Preachers robust food and Jacks wife Mels assistance with physical therapy on his shoulder. After six months, Mike was as close to completely recovered as hed get.
Since moving to Virgin River hed been home only once to visit his parents, siblings and their families. He planned to take a weekone day driving each way and five days with that crowd of laughing, dancing Mexicans. Knowing the traditions of his family, it would be a nonstop celebration. His mother and sisters would cook from morning to night, his brothers would stock the refrigerator with cerveza, family friends and cop buddies from the department would drop by the house. It would be a good timea great homecoming after his long recovery.
He was three hours into his drive when his cell phone rang. The noise startled him. There was no cell phone reception in Virgin River so the last thing he expected was a phone call.
Hello? he answered.
I need a favor, Jack said without preamble. His voice sounded gravelly, as though he was barely awake. He must not have remembered Mike was heading south.
Mike looked at the dash clock. It wasnt yet 7:00 a.m. He laughed. Well, sure, but Im nearly in Santa Rosa, so it might be inconvenient to run over to Garberville and get you ice for the bar, but hey
Mike, its Brie, Jack said. Brie was Jacks youngest sister, his pet, his favorite. And she was really special to Mike. Shes in the hospital.
Mike actually swerved on the highway. Hold on, he said. Stay there. He pulled off the road onto a safe-looking shoulder. Then he took a deep breath. Go ahead, he said.
She was assaulted sometime last night, Jack said. Beaten. Raped.
No! Mike said. What?
Jack didnt repeat himself. My father just called a little while ago. Mel and I are packingwell get on the road as soon as we can. Listen, I need someone who knows law enforcement, criminology, to walk me through whats happening with her. They dont have the guy who did thistheres got to be an investigation. Right?