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Chapters (48)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. Prologue
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Chapter Nineteen
  25. Chapter Twenty
  26. Chapter Twenty-one
  27. Chapter Twenty-two
  28. Chapter Twenty-three
  29. Chapter Twenty-four
  30. Chapter Twenty-five
  31. Chapter Twenty-six
  32. Chapter Twenty-seven
  33. Chapter Twenty-eight
  34. Chapter Twenty-nine
  35. Chapter Thirty
  36. Chapter Thirty-one
  37. Chapter Thirty-two
  38. Chapter Thirty-three
  39. Chapter Thirty-four
  40. Chapter Thirty-five
  41. Chapter Thirty-six
  42. Chapter Thirty-seven
  43. Chapter Thirty-eight
  44. Chapter Thirty-nine
  45. Also by Allison Brennan
  46. Praise for these other novels by New York Times bestselling author Allison Brennan
  47. About the Author
  48. Newsletter Sign-up

He hadn’t expected this reaction. He’d investigated countless crime scenes; he’d processed evidence from thousands of homicides and accidents. He could usually joke around because dark humor soothed the soul.

But this tangled mess … he was surprisingly depressed.

Ash wasn’t a forensic anthropologist, but he knew enough from his training to recognize one male and three female skeletons in the solitary grave. They’d been buried together, one on top of the other, the bones a tangled mess as first decomposition did its job, then the storm had disturbed their resting place.

Ten days ago, when he’d been called out to rural Kendall County to investigate a rancher’s claim that he’d found six possibly human bones, Ash had been excited. They were indeed human, and they had been washed downstream in a seasonal creek that had flooded in the late summer storm. Dozens of rivers and creeks had overflowed their banks, but there were two primary breaches where erosion, animal burrows, and the torrential downpour had created flash floods, including one that was nearly half a mile wide.

The bones that had traveled in the floodwaters were small and light, and Ash brought in a team from the university to help track the path they took. He’d been so excited to create a computer model of the likely burial spots, finding additional bones along the path with the assistance of the university’s anthropology department, and then when a team called in that they found the gravesite, right on the edge of his boundary, he nearly jumped for joy.

He wasn’t joyful now.

“What do we do?” Melanie Lee was a grad student with degrees in biology and anthropology and working toward a PhD in forensic anthropology. She was leading the university search team, and Ash knew he wouldn’t have been able to do this without her.

Like him, Melanie had been driven into this business because of a television show. They’d joked about it, but now it was no laughing matter as he squatted on the edge of the grave and stared.

Four bodies. The grave was deep, but it had been breached from the side, as the waters cut into the soil. The trapped air or disturbed soil or some other factor he would need a geologist to figure out had made the soil looser than that which was nearby, and the water flowed through the grave, taking bones and evidence with it. Now that the water was gone, the bones were partly buried again, as the silt and twigs and debris settled into the earth.