Skip to main content

Excerpt - LESS THAN DEAD by Tim Downs

This week, the


Christian Fiction Blog Alliance


is introducing


Less Than Dead


Thomas Nelson (September 9, 2008)


by


Tim Downs



ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Tim Downs is a Phi Beta Kappa graduate of Indiana University. After graduation in 1976 he created a comic strip, Downstown, which was syndicated by Universal Press Syndicate until 1986. His cartooning has appeared in more than a hundred major newspapers worldwide.

His first book, a work of non-fiction, was awarded the Gold Medallion Award in 2000. His first novel, Shoofly Pie, was awarded the Angel Award in 2004, and his third novel, PlagueMaker, was awarded the Christy Award for best suspense novel of 2007. First The Dead, the third book in this Bug Man series came out earlier this year.

Tim lives in Cary, North Carolina, with his wife Joy.


ABOUT THE BOOK


Some secrets just won't stay buried.
When strange bones surface on a U.S. senator's property, the FBI enlists forensic entomologist Nick Polchak to investigate the forgotten graveyard. Polchak's orders are simple: figure out the mess.

But Polchak, known as the "Bug Man" because of his knowledge of insects and their interaction with the dead, senses darker secrets buried beneath the soil.

Secrets that could derail the senator's presidential bid.

Secrets buried in the history of a quaint Virginia town.

Secrets someone is willing to kill to protect.

With the help of a mysterious local woman named Alena and her uncanny cadaver dogs, Polchak sets out to dig up the truth.

But with a desperate killer hot on his trail, he'll be lucky to wind up anything less than dead.


Excerpt of chapter one:


Chapter 1


Northern Virginia, 1998

The sheriff looked out over the crowded backyard. People were frantically searching everywhere: sheriff’s deputies, crime scene technicians, even file clerks and secretaries from the Warren County Sheriff’s Department whose hearts had been touched by the news. Everyone wanted to help: friends, neighbors, church members, even total strangers from as far away as Front Royal who had heard about the missing three-year-old boy and had driven over to lend a hand with the search.

But there was no sign of the boy anywhere.

It was late now, well after midnight, and the sheriff was privately beginning to lose hope. He kept up a bold front for the sake of the frantic mother, but he had worked kidnappings and child abductions before, and he knew that the first twenty-four hours were critical. Unfortunately, this was the second day of the search, and the boy’s odds of survival were diminishing fast.

“Is there anything new you can tell me? Anything at all?”

The sheriff turned to the woman; her face was contorted by fear and exhaustion, and her panic-stricken eyes stared up at him from sunken gray pools. “I told you I’d tell you the minute we know anything.”

“That was an hour ago.”

“That was ten minutes ago. We’ll find your boy, Mrs. Coleman—it just takes time.”

“It seems to be taking longer than it should.”

“Not at all,” the sheriff lied. “Look at all these people pitching in—if your boy’s anywhere around here, they’ll find him.”

“What if he’s not around here? Has Mark told you anything else?”

“I’m afraid your husband has decided not to cooperate.”

“Maybe I should try talking to him again.”

“I don’t think that will help, and it’ll only make you feel worse. Right now you need to keep your hopes up and let us do our work. I’ll keep you posted—I promise.”

“Then I’ll help search.”

“You’ll only slow us down, Mrs. Coleman—people keep stopping to take care of you instead of searching. If you want something to do, go back and pitch in at the refreshment table.”

“That’s a good idea,” she mumbled. “Everyone’s working so hard—they’ll be hungry . . .” Her voice trailed off as she turned away.

Just then a sheriff’s deputy approached and nodded a greeting.

“Where have you been, Elgin?” the sheriff asked. “You’ve been gone for hours.”

“I went to find her, just like you told me. She lives way up on top of the mountain above Endor, y’know—thought I’d like to never find her.”

“Well, did you?”

“Eventually. It’s like a prison up there—she’s got the whole place surrounded by chain-link fence and she keeps the gate chained shut. She don’t have no phone—I had to just sit there and lay on the horn until she finally came to the gate. Any news here?”

“Nothing. We’ve looked everywhere we can think of.”

“The crawl space?”

“Checked it twice. Checked the attic too, but he wasn’t there, thank the Lord—the boy wouldn’t have lasted an hour up there in this heat. I had the city engineers bring maps of all the storm drains and culverts—nothing. We searched the woods over there—been over it twice, but we’re looking again. A bunch of the neighbors walked that cornfield hand in hand, but they didn’t find him there. Did you fetch her down?”

“She wouldn’t come with me—insisted on drivin’ herself. Creepiest thing I ever saw, Gus; I’m layin’ on the horn and three big dogs come walkin’ up to the gate. Biggest mutts I ever saw—they just stood there and looked me over—I swear I thought they were black bears at first. Then the woman comes walkin’ up nice and slow, wearin’ a long white robe with her black hair hangin’ all around. And there’s another dog walkin’ beside her—a mangy old gray mongrel—and the thing’s only got three legs. Three legs! What about the husband—has he said anything more?”

“Nothing. He took the boy, no doubt about it—but he’s not about to tell us where he put him.”

“Just to spite his ex-wife?”

“He’s got a knife in her heart and he’s just gonna twist it—a woman he used to be married to. We’ve tried all we can—threatened him with everything from hell to high water, but he’s not talking. The fool’s willing to let his own boy die just to cause the woman pain. You know, people can be mean as snakes sometimes. You say she wouldn’t come with you—but she is coming, right?”

“She’s already here. Get this, Gus: She walks right up to the gate and looks at me with one eye—then she snaps her fingers like this and all four dogs sit down at the same time. Never said a word to ’em—it’s like the dogs could read her mind. I don’t mind tellin’ you, it made my skin crawl.”

The sheriff shook his head. “She’s as weird as her old man was.”

“I don’t mind ‘weird’—hey, I’m weird—but this is somethin’ else. Know what she said to me? ‘Who dares to invade my privacy?’ I’m tellin’ you, Gus, it’s true what people say about her: The woman is a witch.”

“I don’t care if she’s the Ghost of Christmas Past, as long as she can help us find that boy. Where is she now?”

“Right over there—you can’t miss her.”

The sheriff looked; standing on a small berm at the far edge of the property was a woman in her mid-twenties dressed in a flowing white gown. Her hair was long and straight and she kept her head down so that the hair hung in front of her face. Beside her was a dog: mottled gray, lean and angular—and it had only three legs. Standing atop the berm, the two of them were almost silhouetted against the new moon—and the sheriff had to admit, the image was definitely eerie.

He walked over to her. She did not look up as he approached.

“Are you Alena Savard?” he asked.

The woman cocked her head to one side and slowly raised it until her hair parted slightly, exposing a pale sliver of flesh and one emerald eye that glared up at the sheriff. “I am.”

“Can you help us, Ms. Savard?”

“What is it you require?”

“We’ve got a missing boy here, about three years old. It’s a domestic dispute. There was an ugly divorce and a custody battle and the husband lost. First he threatened to take the boy away, then he threatened to harm him—it looks like he might have done both.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Because you can’t arrest a man for a crime he hasn’t committed yet. I don’t like it either, but that’s the law. The wife got a restraining order, but it didn’t much matter—a man who’s willing to let his own boy die won’t be stopped by a piece of paper.”

“You people,” she said. “My dogs are more human than you.”

“Right now I’m inclined to agree with you. We’ve got the husband in custody, but he refuses to talk to us; the boy’s been missing for almost two days now, and we’re hoping we can find him before—”

“I find the dead.”

“Well, we’re hoping he’s still alive.”

“I find the dead—only the dead.”

“Keep your voice down, will you? The mother is right over there, and she’s about out of her mind already.”

“Why did you send for me?”

“I’ve heard about your father—I thought maybe you could help.”

“If the boy is alive I’ll be of no use to you. You think the boy is dead, or you wouldn’t have sent for me.”

“I think he might be dead—it’s an option we have to consider. We need to know if we should keep looking, and you might be able to tell us. Will you help?”

Alena paused. “I will help—under the following conditions: No one is to speak to me or come near; the moment I finish I will leave—I will answer no further questions; and if anyone attempts to approach my dog in any way I will leave immediately. Do you agree to these conditions?”

“Agreed. What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing. Just leave me alone.”

“One thing,” the sheriff said. “That woman over there is the boy’s mother. Try to stay clear of her; it’s best if she doesn’t know you’re here.”

He walked back to the house and turned to watch.

The woman seemed to do nothing at first—then she slowly raised both arms and looked up into the night sky. She lowered her head again and swung it slowly from side to side, as if she were mopping a table with her long black hair. She shook both arms loosely, like a pitcher limbering up, then began to walk around in small circles.

Everyone in the yard began to stop and stare.

She knelt down in front of her dog and took a brightly colored bandanna from around her neck; she showed it to the dog as if she were asking for its approval—then she slipped the bandanna around the dog’s neck and straightened it.

The entire yard fell silent.

She stood up again and snapped her fingers; the dog immediately circled her once and sat down at her side. She snapped her fingers a second time and made a tossing motion with her right hand; the dog jumped to its feet and began to zigzag across the yard with its nose quivering just above the ground.

The mother approached the sheriff from behind and tugged on his sleeve. “Who is that woman?” she asked.

“Never you mind,” the sheriff said. “She’s here to help us find your boy.”

“How can she help?”

“We can use all the help we can get right now, Mrs. Coleman.”

“But—what is she doing? It looks so strange.”

“I don’t know, exactly.”

“You already tried a search-and-rescue dog—it couldn’t find him.”

“This is a different kind of dog. We’re hoping it’ll have better luck.”

The dog quickly worked its way across the berm and around the backyard with the woman following close behind; she made no eye contact with anyone as they worked, and the other volunteers all nervously stepped back and gave them a wide berth wherever they turned.

When they reached the edge of the woods the dog suddenly stopped; it swung its head back and forth over an area no larger than a frying pan—and then it lay down. The woman knelt down in front of the dog and looked into its eyes; she made a shrugging motion and looked again. The dog just lay still and stared up at her.

The woman stood up and looked across the yard at the sheriff. She pointed to the ground near the trunk of an old beech tree.

The mother grabbed the sheriff’s arm. “Why is she doing that? Why is she pointing at the ground?”

The sheriff didn’t answer.

“What does that mean? Tell me!”

“Keep her here,” the sheriff said to Elgin, then started toward the woman and the dog.

He called out to Alena as he approached. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

The sheriff tested the spot with the toe of his shoe; the soil was loose. He turned to one of his deputies and called back, “Bring me a shovel.”

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 spade above the ground—but the woman 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 mid-sentence, and she collapsed to the ground sobbing.

Alena turned without a word and hurried away.

Comments

Popular Posts

Interview with Tamara Leigh

Captain's Log, Stardate 03.13.2006 Multi-published Tamara Leigh has shifted from Medieval romances to chick-lit! Her newest book is STEALING ADDA published by NavPress. It had been a long time since New York Times best-selling author -- and historical romance writer extraordinaire -- Adda Sinclaire had experienced more than a fictional dose of romance, but when publisher Nick Farnsworth walks into her life, everything changes. Life for Adda ironically reads more like a country song than a bodice-bursting, breathless affair. For starters, she has no actual romance in her life. That might have something to do with the fact that her husband -- correction-EX husband -- ran off with Stick Woman, whom everyone knew would never be more than a mid-list author anyway. To add insult to injury (and another verse to the country song), he not only took their dog but gave it to her. If this isn't enough, Adda's come down with a horrible case of writer's block and finds h

Last chance! Jane Austen sweepstakes

Last chance! Win a Library of 30 Historical Romance Novels + Jane Austen Swag Worth $250! This is a delightful surprise I've been eager to share! Join me and 30 extraordinary authors in an enchanting giveaway where we're gifting a vast array of historical romance novels to two fortunate winners! And the cherry on top: The Grand Prize winner will be treated to an exclusive Jane Austen swag pack, worth an impressive $250! You'll get the chance to win a copy of my book, Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 1: Archer, as well as novels from renowned authors like Laura Beers and Kasey Stockton. (Please be aware that not all the historical novels in this giveaway are Christian or sweet.) To enter, simply click the magical link below. Wishing you the best of luck and a journey filled with delightful reads! Join Our Giveaway

In-N-Out from A DANGEROUS STAGE

Source: tumblr.com via Camy on Pinterest In-N-Out, one of my fav burger joints, makes an appearance in the first chapter of A Dangerous Stage . It's a chain on the West Coast and Hawaii, I'm not sure how far east they have restaurants. They don't freeze any of their food, it's all fresh, including the buns and the french fries. When you order, you can see them use this french fry hand-crank machine to make their fries, it's pretty cool. The specific restaurant in A Dangerous Stage doesn't exist at that location, but there's a couple of them near me and I go there way too often than is good for me, but it's oh-so-yummy!

99c Squeaky Clean Christmas Romance sale

I’m participating in the 99c Squeaky Clean Christmas Romance sale. Check out all the sweet/clean romance books available and stuff your eBook reader! 99c Squeaky Clean Christmas Romance

Sweet & Clean Christmas Romance sale

I’m participating in the Sweet & Clean Christmas Romance sale. Check out all the sweet/clean romance books available and stuff your eBook reader! Sweet & Clean Christmas Romance

No Cold Bums toilet seat cover

Captain's Log, Stardate 08.22.2008 I actually wrote out my pattern! I was getting a lot of hits on my infamous toilet seat cover , and I wanted to make a new one with “improvements,” so I paid attention and wrote things down as I made the new one. This was originally based off the Potty Mouth toilet cover , but I altered it to fit over the seat instead of the lid. Yarn: any worsted weight yarn, about 120 yards (this is a really tight number, I used exactly 118 yards. My suggestion is to make sure you have about 130 yards.) I suggest using acrylic yarn because you’re going to be washing this often. Needle: I used US 8, but you can use whatever needle size is recommended by the yarn you’re using. Gauge: Not that important. Mine was 4 sts/1 inch in garter stitch. 6 buttons (I used some leftover shell buttons I had in my stash) tapestry needle Crochet hook (optional) Cover: Using a provisional cast on, cast on 12 stitches. Work in garter st until liner measures

Clean Romance Deals

I’m participating in the Clean Romance Deals sale. Check out all the sweet/clean romance books available and stuff your eBook reader! Clean Romance Deals

Tabi socks, part deux

Captain's Log, Stardate 07.25.2008 (If you're on Ravelry, friend me! I'm camytang.) I made tabi socks again! (At the bottom of the pattern is the calculation for the toe split if you're not using the same weight yarn that I did for this pattern (fingering). I also give an example from when I used worsted weight yarn with this pattern.) I used Opal yarn, Petticoat colorway. It’s a finer yarn than my last pair of tabi socks, so I altered the pattern a bit. Okay, so here’s my first foray into giving a knitting pattern. Camy’s top-down Tabi Socks I’m assuming you already know the basics of knitting socks. If you’re a beginner, here are some great tutorials: Socks 101 How to Knit Socks The Sock Knitter’s Companion A video of turning the heel Sock Knitting Tips Yarn: I have used both fingering weight and worsted weight yarn with this pattern. You just change the number of cast on stitches according to your gauge and the circumference of your ankle. Th

Year of the Dog serial novel

About Year of the Dog : A month or two ago, I remembered an old manuscript I had completed but which hadn’t sold. It was a contemporary romance meant for Zondervan, titled Year of the Dog . The book had gone into the pipeline and I even got another title ( Bad Dog ) and a cover for it, but eventually my editor at the time decided she didn’t want to publish it, for various reasons. She instead requested a romantic suspense, and so I cannibalized some of the characters from Year of the Dog and thrust them into the next book I wrote, which was Protection for Hire . Honestly, I didn’t take a lot from Year of the Dog to put in Protection for Hire , aside from character names and a few relationship ties. I was originally thinking I’d post Year of the Dog as-is on my blog as a free read, but then it occurred to me that I could revamp it into a romantic suspense and change the setting to Hawaii. It would work out perfectly as (yet another) prequel to the Warubozu series and introduc

Grace Livingston Hill romances free to read online

I wanted to update my old post on Grace Livingston Hill romances because now there are tons more options for you to be able to read her books for free online! I’m a huge Grace Livingston Hill fan. Granted, not all her books resonate with me, but there are a few that I absolutely love, like The Enchanted Barn and Crimson Roses . And the best part is that she wrote over 100 books and I haven’t yet read them all! When I have time, I like to dive into a new GLH novel. I like the fact that most of them are romances, and I especially appreciate that they all have strong Christian themes. Occasionally the Christian content is a little heavy-handed for my taste, but it’s so interesting to see what the Christian faith was like in the early part of the 20th century. These books are often Cinderella-type stories or A Little Princess (Frances Hodgson Burnett) type stories, which I love. And the best part is that they’re all set in the early 1900s, so the time period is absolutely fasci