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The Unforgiven

Heather Graham

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Praise

Praise for the novels of New York Times bestselling author
Heather Graham

“An enthralling read with a totally unexpected twist at the end.”

—Fresh Fiction on Deadly Touch

“Heather Graham delivers a harrowing journey as she always does: perfectly.... Intelligent, fast-paced and frightening at all times, and the team of characters still keep the reader’s attention to the very end.”

—Suspense Magazine on The Final Deception

“Immediately entertaining and engrossing... Graham provides plenty of face time and intimate connection, all lightened with humor, to reassure and satisfy romance readers.”

—Publishers Weekly on A Dangerous Game

“Taut, complex, and leavened with humor, this riveting thriller has...a shade more suspense than romance, it will appeal to fans of both genres.”

—Library Journal on A Dangerous Game

“An intense murder-mystery that kept me turning the pages. Graham never fails to pull me in... Offers rich history, an interesting murder-mystery and a new romance.”

—Caffeinated Book Reviewer on The Seekers

“Will keep you glued to the pages...[with] the danger, drama and energy.”

—Fresh Fiction on The Seekers

“Graham strikes a fine balance between romantic suspense and a gothic ghost story.”

—Booklist on The Summoning

Booklist

Also by New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham

Krewe of Hunters

DREAMING DEATH

DEADLY TOUCH

SEEING DARKNESS

THE STALKING

THE SEEKERS

THE SUMMONING

ECHOES OF EVIL

PALE AS DEATH

FADE TO BLACK

WICKED DEEDS

DARK RITES

DYING BREATH

DARKEST JOURNEY

DEADLY FATE

HAUNTED DESTINY

THE HIDDEN

THE FORGOTTEN

THE SILENCED

THE BETRAYED

THE HEXED

THE CURSED

THE NIGHT IS FOREVER

THE NIGHT IS ALIVE

THE NIGHT IS WATCHING

THE UNINVITED

THE UNSPOKEN

THE UNHOLY

THE UNSEEN

THE EVIL INSIDE

SACRED EVIL

HEART OF EVIL

PHANTOM EVIL

New York Confidential

THE FINAL DECEPTION

A LETHAL LEGACY

A DANGEROUS GAME

A PERFECT OBSESSION

FLAWLESS

Cafferty & Quinn

THE DEAD PLAY ON

WAKING THE DEAD

LET THE DEAD SLEEP

Harrison Investigations

NIGHTWALKER

THE SÉANCE

THE PRESENCE

UNHALLOWED GROUND

THE DEATH DEALER

THE DEAD ROOM

THE VISION

GHOST WALK

HAUNTED

Bone Island

GHOST MOON

GHOST NIGHT

GHOST SHADOW

The Flynn Brothers

DEADLY GIFT

DEADLY HARVEST

DEADLY NIGHT

For more titles, visit TheOriginalHeatherGraham.com.

* * * * *

Look for Heather Graham’s next novel
THE FORBIDDEN
available soon from MIRA.

About the Author

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Heather Graham has written more than two hundred novels. She is pleased to have been published in over twenty-five languages, with sixty million books in print. Heather is a proud recipient of the Silver Bullet from Thriller Writers and was awarded the prestigious Thriller Master Award in 2016. She is also a recipient of Lifetime Achievement Awards from RWA and The Strand, and is the founder of The Slush Pile Players, an author band and theatrical group. An avid scuba diver, ballroom dancer and mother of five, she still enjoys her South Florida home, but also loves to travel. Heather is grateful every day for a career she loves so very much.

For more information, check out her website, theoriginalheathergraham.com, or find Heather on Facebook.

Dedication

To Patrick DeVuono, musician, teacher, writer...Kind, giving, bright and thoughtful. All-around great guy!

And my cousin, who also grew up with stories of banshees and leprechauns, and a feisty great-gran and a few other delightfully crazy Irish who gave us gifts of stories, art and songs.

PROLOGUE

There was nothing like being in the water, and nothing at all like diving. The sea, all around her. The calm, rhythmic sound of her breathing through her regulator, the sun streaking through the water, catching on the brilliant colors of a yellow tang, a blue angelfish or the orange of a clown fish.

Larger creatures swam by as well: snappers, grunts and even a giant grouper that must have been hundreds of pounds.

Katie Delaney was in ecstasy.

She had gotten her junior PADI diving certification at the age of ten. At five, she’d wanted to be a mermaid. Her parents had laughed and assured her that as soon as she was old enough, she could get her diving certificate and become the next best thing. Now that she had turned fifteen, she’d upgraded to the certification that had no junior attached to it, and she was proud and delighted.

She loved the water, the sun, the sand and the sea.

It ran in the family. Both of her parents had been in the navy; her dad had been a SEAL.

Today, they were diving out of Key Largo. There were so many places she wanted to go. But their home was Key West, and while she wanted a trip to the Great Barrier Reef and other renowned dive sites, her dad had assured her many times the reefs off the Florida Keys offered fine diving.

They were lucky—she needed to realize that. They lived right by the only living continental barrier reef in the United States. And while she might go down time after time, she would never see all the wonders there—right in her own patch of the ocean—that might be seen.

Naturally, she had her favorite things to do in all the islands of the Florida Keys. And that morning, she and her parents had done one of them: Captain Slate’s Creature Feature. They had fed nurse sharks and rays and other incredible sea beings, and the fish would come and play with the divers. A giant nurse shark had been swimming right above her head!

Today was a birthday and congratulations present from her parents. They had done the Creature Feature with Captain Slate’s crew, done a second dive with them and then gone back in to shore just to go back out again to maybe dive on their own.

And now, they had been joined by her folks’ best friends and a younger couple the two had recently met when they’d been out at a local restaurant or somewhere. Her mom and dad were happy to bring out-of-towners out on their boat with them for the day.

Katie didn’t care—today was her birthday for her folks day.

Her actual birthday had been last week, and she’d spent it with her friends, including her boyfriend, Brad. Her parents had been great about it.

But being fifteen didn’t change her love for her family or the water. In fact, it brought her closer to her dream. She’d go to college. She’d learn how to run a business. Because eventually, she’d have her own company, be a certified dive master. And then maybe she’d get serious about boys. And if Brad was still around, and still hot, well...

Yep. She knew she was envied by other girls her age because Brad was hot. She grinned around her regulator mouthpiece. He just wasn’t as good a diver as she was yet.

One day she would change that!

You never, ever dive without a dive buddy. The best divers in the world might perish when a problem could be easily solved or alleviated if a partner was just at hand.

Her father had hammered that lesson into her.

She suspected that during her father’s time in the navy, he had been in the water a few times on dangerous missions when a partner had not been with him.

But she wasn’t alone today; she was following the rules.

She’d thought maybe the young woman they’d just met, Jennie, who was with a guy named Neil, might have wanted to get in the water again. But Jennie seemed to be a bit of a prima donna: she wanted to be on the boat but not in the water. She said she could dive, she was certified, she just didn’t feel like being all salty with wet hair.

That was all right. Katie wasn’t alone. She might have wandered a bit from the anchor line, but her mom’s friend, Anita, was in the water near her somewhere. Mrs. Calabria was always cool: she might have wanted to stay onboard with the other adults, but if so, she hadn’t let Katie see that. She had just enthusiastically excused herself to her new friends, Dr. Neil Browne, doctor of what Katie didn’t know, and his girlfriend Jennie someone, from somewhere up north. Katie didn’t know much about Dr. Browne or Jennie, but they were a younger duo, full of energy, eager for new experiences—except for getting wet, so it seemed. They seemed nice enough, though she had to wonder if her parents and George and Anita might be trying a little too hard to keep up with them. Like her folks, George and Anita were older now.

She’d known Anita and George all her life. They, along with her mom and dad, had been career military, and then her dad had done a stint as a cop while her mom had worked in a library when they’d first been married. Her dad had been over fifty when Katie had been born, and because her mom had been forty-one, Katie was considered something of a miracle child. They’d moved from New Orleans—her dad’s family’s home—to the Florida Keys before Katie was born because of their love for the water, boats and diving. Katie had grown up with that love and shared it with a passion.

She hadn’t wanted to push it. Her parents, she thought, were too tired for a third dive today, no matter that the charts said they could do more time at this easy depth. But Anita—bless her—knew Katie was in seventh heaven because of her birthday and adult certification and so had risen to the occasion and come in with her. And they had been together until...

Katie had noticed a curious barracuda lurking by a reef and had followed his glittering silver body at a distance. Barracuda were okay, as were most creatures, if you left them alone. And while they weren’t diving in John Pennekamp State Park—where the waters were protected, there was no fishing, and fewer underwater plants and animals offered any danger as their natural food supply was healthy—they were close enough to the park so the fish had a ready food supply and most probably would not be after people.

And she had just been watching, keeping her distance. Of course, there were sharks in the water; she knew not to thrash around, and she never wore jewelry while diving or did anything to attract any kind of predator.

Still...

She realized now she didn’t see Anita anywhere. And she’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t even remember when she had seen her last. They’d only planned a thirty-minute dive, but...

She winced. Thirty minutes were up. Anita was going to be very angry with her for swimming off. Just as her parents were going to be angry.

She had to face the music.

She had promised to stay near the boat. Her father had wanted to head back as soon as this last dive was over; it was a bit of a ride to get home, even once they cut through a channel to take the Gulf side of the island chain rather than circle around on the Atlantic. Their scuba gear had to be washed down, the boat secured and so on.

When she’d gone in, he’d reminded her, “Hey, I’m not a spring chicken anymore!”

And she had called back, “Just another old rooster running around Key West.” She adored her dad.

He’d grinned, but he had been serious, too. He was ready to head home.

Where was Anita? Had she gone up without her?

Yes. Katie was going to be in serious trouble. She hadn’t been paying attention to her dive buddy.

Quickly, get up there and face it.

She was generally a good kid. She was an excellent student. Most of her friends were boy crazy. She had nothing against boys, especially cute ones, but her interest in Brad was levelheaded. She never let liking him interfere with her family or school.

Surely her parents would bear all this in mind.

The boat had been anchored by one of the reefs in about thirty feet of water. There was no reason to worry about coming right up: she hadn’t been deep enough to need to decompress. And so she followed the anchor line to the rear of the boat, removing her mask as she arrived and tossing it onto the little dive platform, detaching her regulator and doing the same with it.

She figured her father might be there, or her mother, or even Anita. They would be staring at her angrily, perhaps with their hands on their hips. They wouldn’t scream or yell; they would just announce the consequences for her behavior.

But there was no one anywhere near the dive platform.

“Hey!” she called, banging against the edge of the platform as a wave took her unexpectedly.

Still, no one arrived.

She had, of course, learned to remove all her equipment—and put it all back on—while in the water as part of her training. She removed her tank and buoyancy-control device and flippers, setting them atop the platform, too. Then she crawled up the little two-step ladder.

That was when she first saw the blood.

A spatter of small, diluted drops on the dive platform. It couldn’t be blood. Or maybe it was fish blood. That had to be it. A fish. Except her parents didn’t go fishing. Maybe those other people had wanted to fish. The doctor—Neil Browne. Or his girlfriend, Jennie whatever. And her folks might have complied. They weren’t against responsible fishing, they just didn’t care to fish themselves.

“Hey!” she called again.

Nothing.

Then it came over her—a sensation of pure dread and terror. She had to force herself to move on from the platform to the deck. She looked up the four steps to the helm of the boat. There was no one at the wheel.

But the deck, leading to the cabin below, was covered with blood. Not thick but diluted blood, as if someone had thrown down buckets of water, or as if there had been a storm that had ravaged all aboard...

“Mom! Dad! Anita! George!”

Compelled though terrified, she walked down the steps to the cabin. Blood. Everywhere. As if a slew of razor-sharp propellers had ravaged the cabin, tearing into flesh and bone and...

Bodies.

Lying at unnatural angles. So still.

She started to scream and scream.

She backed away from the blood and bodies, not able to look away or see where she was going. Her legs caught on the edge, and she fell over the hull, back into the warm embrace of the Atlantic. The water wrapped around her; she was in such shock that it felt good, it felt right. Just let the water take her along with the darkness that was engulfing her...

She heard a dim whisper in that darkness. A man’s voice, soft with a bit of a burr.

“Nay, lass, nay. Life is never easy, but death be not the answer for ye!”

She had lost her mind or she had died—despite his words about death not being the answer. Because she seemed to be looking at a powerful old man in the depths, a fellow with a full beard and mustache and flowing white hair. He was shirtless but wearing some strange kind of pants, beige, tied on with rope and cut off at the ankles.

She would have screamed if she wasn’t ten feet down.

Then she wasn’t down any longer. She was never sure if he pushed her or if her own instinct for survival kicked in.

She thrust up with a scissor motion of her legs, still hearing the strange man’s whisper—in her mind. It had to be in her mind.

“Radio! Use the radio. The Coast Guard is near.”

She stumbled back up the dive platform. Now, despite the warmth of the water and the day, she felt cold. Bone-cold—and numb. She stepped over the blood—or through it—she didn’t even know. She never looked down.

She moved straight to the radio and called for the Coast Guard.

Even as she spoke, desperately, somehow managing to share her position, darkness seemed to descend around her.

Once someone had assured her that help was on the way, she stumbled back down to the cabin, reaching out to touch her dead mother’s hair.

CHAPTER ONE

Twelve Years Later

“You must think I’m terrible, hiring you to spy on my husband,” Wendy Lawrence said, her back stiff as she leaned forward entreatingly. “I just... Well, you see, the family money is his, and that makes him think he can do anything he wants. His family owns five of the finest restaurants between here and Biloxi, and...”

Wendy was an attractive woman, a tiny brunette with striking dark eyes and hair, but though Dan Oliver was willing to take her money—investigating was what he did—he wasn’t looking forward to continuing with the assignment.

Wendy did not come from money, and there was nothing wrong with that. But her husband, Nathan Lawrence, seemed to be an okay guy. He was a high school teacher specializing in history, civics and government. Dan had already started watching him for Wendy, and the wildest thing the man had done so far was sponsor a high school trip to the zoo.

“Wendy, I need to tell you,” Dan said, “I’ve followed him after school every day for a week now. He’s gone home. I don’t know what has made you think he...that he might be using you, cheating on you, and staying married to keep his money.”

“I saw the text on his phone. You are truly the best. Thank you! Loved my time with you!”

Dan shook his head. “I hung around at the café by the school, too. I’m pretty sure that was from one of his students.”

Wendy sat back in horror. “A student! Oh, my God!”

“No, no, Wendy. Students might well have a distant crush on a teacher like that. I didn’t say your husband was acting wrongly in any way. I think that text might have been from Lily Levan, one of his honor students, and it was innocent—a thank-you for the help he gave her filling out forms. She’s in line for a few scholarships, but the paperwork on them can be overwhelming.”

“Are you refusing to...to work for me?” Wendy asked.

“No, of course not. I’ll continue on your case. But I don’t think I’m going to find anything. I think your husband is honest and upright, and I’d hate for him to find out you don’t trust him.”

“In one set of pictures you gave me, he was with a woman,” Wendy said.

“Wendy, he was with a man and a woman. They had folders out on the table; I believe it was a business meeting.”

“He’s a teacher.”

“Yes, and he helps students decide where to go for college, he helps their parents when they’re trying to figure out how to pay for college. Wendy, he didn’t leave with the couple. The couple left together, and the man’s arm was around the woman’s shoulder.”

“And you don’t know who the couple were? What kind of an investigator are you?”

Dan sighed. “I can use some contacts and see if I can find out who they were. You’re afraid your husband is cheating on you. Well, he wasn’t cheating on you with that woman. I didn’t know you wanted dossiers on all his students and their parents and every bartender or server he ever spoke nicely to in a restaurant.”

“There is something up,” Wendy whispered.

“Wendy, he isn’t cheating. He’s at school. I’ve followed him every other place he’s been. He simply heads home at night. Sometimes he does go to a restaurant. He eats. You should end this before it goes badly. Do you really want him to possibly discover you hired me because you don’t trust him?”

Wendy stood, somewhat indignant. “You’re paid not to let him know.”

Dan shook his head. “He won’t know from me. That’s not the point.”

“He told me he had some kind of a business meeting, something that might bring a lot of good into our lives. But he wouldn’t tell me what it was. He was so silly about it. Then he was just... I don’t know...weird. And then he said he wanted to forget all of it.”

“Maybe it was just a bad opportunity, and he felt weird about it,” Dan said wearily.

“A week, just another week,” Wendy said.

Dan knew he was good at what he did. Nathan Lawrence would never know he had been watched and followed. Dan didn’t need this client. He was solvent; he had money in the bank. But he did do this for a living—as much as he was coming to loathe it—and Wendy did pay her bills.

He was nodding as his phone rang. He had his cell on silent, but it was vibrating on his desk.

Ryder was calling him. Detective Ryder Stapleton, NOPD.

“Excuse me. I have to take this,” he told Wendy. It was probably a social call, as Ryder was a friend, but it could also be something more interesting.

She nodded and rose to leave. “One more week. I’ll pay Marleah on the way out.”

She headed to the door to exit his office. He watched her go, wondering for a moment just how he had managed to do this to himself. He’d been a good detective with the Florida Department of Law Enforcement once upon a time.

And he’d let bitterness over a case cause him to resign. Well, here he was—a licensed private investigator. Following errant husbands and wives, looking for rebellious teens and dealing with the emotional baggage of humanity.

Ryder was his one salvation: his longtime friend asked him in on a case now and then as a consultant for the New Orleans PD.

“Hey. Tell me you need me. Please, I’m begging you,” he said into the phone.

Ryder was silent for a moment. “I need you.” He seemed to be taking a deep breath before plunging in. “Dan, it’s happened here. I need you to meet me in the Marigny.”

“What’s happened here?”

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