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Back Less than Dead Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. TITLE PAGE
  3. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  4. DEDICATION
  5. CONTENTS
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The mother let out a shriek and twisted out of Elgin’s hands.

Alena knelt down in front of her dog again and flashed it a beaming grin, then rolled onto her back as the two of them began to wrestle together in the grass.

The mother ran to the beech tree and threw herself in front of it. “It’s not him!” she shouted. “He isn’t dead!”

“We’ll know in a minute,” the sheriff said, readying the shovel above the ground—but the mother grabbed the handle with both hands and stopped him.

“Don’t!” she screamed. “If you find him here, they’ll stop looking for him!”

“Mrs. Coleman—please.”

The mother released the shovel and turned on Alena. “Who are you?” she demanded.

Alena scrambled awkwardly to her feet.

“Who told you to come here anyway? I didn’t ask you to! I don’t want you here!”

Alena lowered her head until her black hair covered her eyes.

“I know who you are—you’re the witch, come to take my boy! He was alive until you came here! He was—”

Her voice failed midsentence, and she collapsed to the ground sobbing.

Alena turned without a word and hurried away.

2

2

Northern Virginia, June 2008

Donovan approached the fluttering yellow crime scene tape and held up his FBI credentials to the officer, a sheriff’s deputy from the Warren County sheriff’s Department. The deputy took the leather folder from his hand and began to read it carefully.

“We don’t get many of you FBI fellas out here in Warren County,” the deputy said.

“No kidding.” Donovan took his credentials from the deputy’s hand, and the man flashed a disappointed look, as though Donovan had taken away a book before he had finished reading it.

“My name’s Elgin Tate,” he said, and then added almost as an afterthought, “Deputy Elgin Tate.” He grinned and extended his hand and Donovan took it.

“Special Agent Nathan Donovan.”

The deputy let out a low, “Hoooo-ee!”

Donovan pointed to the tape. “Mind if I come in and take a look around?”

“Why ask me?”

“Weren’t you guys the first ones on the scene?”

“Yes, sir. We got the call from the medical examiner’s office yesterday afternoon.”

“Then this is your crime scene, Deputy—you’ve got jurisdiction here, and I can’t enter the crime scene until you give me permission.”

The deputy took on a look of renewed importance. “Come right on in, Mr. Donovan.”

Donovan swung one leg over the tape just as the deputy hoisted it high overhead and held it there. Donovan turned and looked at him. “I already flossed this morning.”

“Sorry.” The deputy released the tape and took a step back.

“Thank you.”

“Gonna be a hot one,” the deputy observed.

“It’s getting there.”

“Too hot for June. Too hot for this time of morning.”

“Right on both counts.”