"Get ready for lots of twists and turns with an abundance of suspense in this thrilling romance."
Reviewed by Kay Quintin
Posted October 22, 2009
Romance Suspense
Previously a model and poster girl, the gorgeous and
statuesque Caitlin Fleming and her pint-sized assistant,
Kristy Jensen, arrisve in Eugene, Oregon, to investigate
bags of bones found in a cave. Cait is a forensic
anthropologist and both women work for Raiker Forensics.
The seven bags of human bones were discovered by Zach
Sharper, who owns and operates an outdoor guide and
outfitting company. All the skulls are missing, which
complicates the investigation for Cait to research and
identify the remains, both male and female. Resisting being paired up with Zach, Cait eventually
becomes involved sexually with the rugged guide. Research
reveals that each posterior scapula has a tiny painting on
it, accompanied by a tiny skull as a trademark, which can
only be seen with a black light. Shackled in a basement, the ninth victim awaits a broken
neck by the sick minded UNSUB and his "Sweetie." Cait
discovers the motive for the murder is the theft of funds
from each victim's bank account. Cait finds herself trapped
in the Oregon wilderness dodging the killer's bullets as
her life slowly fades after being shot. The last weak call
from her cell phone for help has the desperate Zach on the
most important hunt in his life for the woman he loves. WAKING THE DEAD is another book in the suspenseful
Mindhunters series, and there is a real twist to the
profile of the killer(s). The characters are strong,
interesting and very surprising. I thoroughly enjoyed
Kylie Brant's insight into the evil mind of a killer
and the unusual imagination she has portrayed throughout
the story. The story has lots of twists and turns with an
abundance of suspense, and keeps the mind constantly
working away at the various clues.
SUMMARY
Former forensic anthropologist Caitlin Fleming knows
bones. So the investigator is the first one called when
seven sets of skeletal remains are found dumped in a
makeshift graveyard in the Oregon wilderness. Each
skeleton bears the same distinctive marks. And each is
minus a skull. Cait needs ourdoors guide Zach Sharper for one reason only—
to help her find her way through the Willamette Forest as
she pieces together clues. Despite the attraction that
burns between them, nothing will be allowed to shake her
focus. Until the killer closes in to terminate the
investigation...and the ones on the verge of unmasking
him...
ExcerptChapter OneSeven stainless steel gurneys were lined up in the morgue,
each occupied by a partially assembled skeleton and a large
garbage bag. The bones gleamed under the florescent lights.
An eighth gurney was heaped with the stray bones that had
been found lying separately. Caitlin Fleming’s first
thought was that the extra bones looked forlorn. Deprived
of their dignity, until they could be rejoined to form the
remnant of the person they’d once belonged to. Her second thought was that without the skulls, the chances
of identifying those persons decreased dramatically. “What do you think?” Sheriff Marin Andrews demanded. Her
booted feet echoed heavily as she walked from one gurney to
the next. “The bones were pretty much loose in the bags,
but the medical examiner made an attempt to re-assemble
them. We brought out the bones scattered on the bottom of
the cave floor in a separate body bag. Recovery operation
was a bitch, I’m telling you. The cave branches off from
the original vein, gets wider and higher. Then it drops off
to a steep chamber about seven feet down. These were
probably dumped from above into that chamber.” Cait barely restrained a wince as she thought of what the
recovery process might have entailed. And what could have
been destroyed or overlooked. “I think I’ll want to see the
cave.” Andrews’s expression first revealed shock, then amusement.
“Fortunately for you, that won’t be necessary. It’s on the
face of Castle Rock and not too accessible. Either you
climb or rappel down over the edge, or you scale upwards
nearly eight hundred feet. There are trails, of course, but
they could be tricky for an inexperienced climber. We don’t
need an injury on our hands before we even get started.” “I’m not inexperienced.” Cait knew exactly what the sheriff
saw when she looked at her. It was, after all, the
appearance she’d cultivated for well over a decade. But her
days on the runways of New York, Milan and Paris were long
behind her. She was most comfortable these days in a room
exactly like this one or hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
“I’ll want to see the cave,” she repeated firmly. The other woman shrugged. She wasn’t much older than Cait,
maybe thirty-five or so. Her looks were nondescript. A
sturdy build filling out a beige uniform. Close cropped
light brown hair and hazel eyes. But Cait knew better than
anyone that appearances could be deceiving. Marin Andrews
had a reputation for being an excellent, if ambitious cop.
And that ambition, along with her father’s millions, were
rumored to be priming her for a chase to the governor’s mansion. Cait’s help in solving this case would provide a stepping
stone to that end. “Figured you’d want to see the area, anyway. We’ve hired
Zach Sharper to stay available during the course of the
investigation to take you anywhere you want. He’s the guide
who found the bodies. Said he was preparing for a client
who wanted to spelunk some out of the way caves, so Zach
explored a few off the beaten path. Thought he’d discovered
a new one when he stumbled on this.” Andrews’s waved a hand
at the skeletons. “He runs a wilderness guide company.
Rafting, kayaking, mountain climbing, hiking, that sort of
thing.” The assessing look in her eye said better than
words that she didn’t believe Cait’s assertion of her
outdoor experience. “He’s also on the search and rescue
team when campers and hikers go missing. He’s got some
rough edges, but he’s the best in the state.” “I can handle rough edges.” Cait walked around the gurneys
to look more closely at the nearly identical junctures where
the skulls had been separated from each skeleton. “Looks
like an ax may have been used here. Or something else with
a wide sharp blade heavy enough to decapitate the victim
with one blow.” If they were living in the 1600s she’d
suspect a guillotine. The slice was that clean. There were
no serrations at the top of the skeletons. The skulls
hadn’t been sawed off. “You’ve got four men and three
women, but I suspect the medical examiner told you that.” “He did, but this thing is way out of his league and he
knows it. He’s a pathologist, not a forensic
anthropologist. When I saw what we had here, I immediately
thought of Raiker Forensics. Adam Raiker assures me you’re
the best in this field.” She bent over to examine the femur of the second skeleton.
The guy had suffered a fracture to it at some point in his
life. It had knit cleanly, suggesting certain medical
attention. “I am,” she responded absently. She looked up
then to arrow a look at Andrews. “My assistant will be
arriving at dawn tomorrow with our equipment. Will this
facility remain available to us?” “It will. Anything you need, talk to the Lane County ME.
His name is Steve Michaels. You’ll have to meet him
tomorrow.” Cait followed the direction of the woman’s gaze
as she looked at the clock. Eight PM. And Cait had left
Dulles Airport at six am, east coast time. Weariness was
edging in, warring with hunger. “I’ve arranged two rooms for you and your assistant at the
Landview Suites here in Eugene. You’ve rented a vehicle?” “Picked it up at the airport.” The compact SUV looked
perfect for the ground she’d be covering in the course of
this investigation. “I’d like all the maps you can provide
for the area. Roads, forests, surrounding towns. . .” A
thought struck her then and she looked at the other woman.
“And thanks for arranging for the weapon permit so quickly.”
Raiker refused to let any of his consultants work without one. Andrews lifted a shoulder. “Raiker made it clear that
condition wasn’t up for discussion. I doubt you’ll need it.
These bones have probably been in that cave for a decade or
more. Even if we determine foul play, that would mean the
unknown subject could be long gone by now. The threat
should be minimal.” “You think so? Come smell this.” She held up the
skeleton’s leg with one hand under its fibula. Andrews looked at her askance but she approached cautiously
and gave a token sniff. When she straightened she looked
quizzical. “Calcium oxide.” The faint but unmistakable odor still
clung to the bones. “Lime,” she explained when the sheriff
looked confused. “It’s possible that we’ll find it’s a
naturally occurring element in the cave’s chambers.” “Or perhaps an UNSUB decided to hasten the decomposition
process by covering the corpse with lime prior to dumping
the remains,” Andrews said slowly. Cait nodded. “Even without help, it doesn’t take decades
for a corpse to be reduced to a skeleton. In some climates
it’d be a week if the body were left out in the elements.
In Oregon it’d take several weeks or months, depending on
where the body’s dumped, the season, the temperature, insect
and animal access. Maybe you’re right and these bones have
been there for decades. But not necessarily.” When she saw the satisfied gleam in the sheriff’s eye, Cait
knew she’d read the woman correctly. Whatever the outcome
of this case, Andrews was going use it to vault her
political career. And solving a current crime spree would
make for a lot better press than some old murders that had
happened long ago. But the woman only said, “I’ve got a copy of the case file
for you in the car. You’ll be reporting directly to me, but
a great deal of the time I’ll have you working side by side
with my lead investigator, Mitch Barnes. You can meet him
tomorrow, too.” Her attention was already back on the skeletons. There was
a lot of preparatory work to be done on them, but it would
have to wait until tomorrow when Kristy arrived. Although
she’d be supervising the lab work, these days Cait was an
investigator first, a forensic anthropologist second. And
she was anxious to get a look at the secondary scene. “I’ll want to get my assistant started first thing tomorrow
morning. Have Barnes meet me here at nine and tell Sharper
to stand by. We’ll head up to. . .” “. . .McKenzie Bridge,” the other woman supplied. “. . .and he can take me to Castle Rock. Show me how he
happened to discovered the remains of seven people.” She
shot a glance at the sheriff as they headed to the door.
“How did Sharper react to the discovery? Is he pretty
shaken up?” Andrews gave a bark of laughter, real amusement showing in
her expression. “Nothing shakes up Sharper, unless it’s
people wasting his time. He’ll be steady enough, don’t
worry. But he won’t win any congeniality contests.” Cait shrugged. “I don’t need congenial. I’ll be satisfied
with competent.” Andrews led the way out of the morgue, the echo of her
booted footsteps ringing hollowly. “I may need to remind
you of those words after you meet him.” Her first stop had been an office supply store. The next
was a fast food drive through for a grilled chicken salad
with definite wilting around the edges. Cait had eaten in
between setting up her work area. The crime scene photos
were tacked to the white display boards sitting on top of
the desk. A collection of labels, index cards, markers and
post it notes sat neatly at the base. Now she sat on the bed leaning against the headboard, the
contents of the fat accordion file folder scattered across
her lap and on the mattress. The photographs taken in the
cave chamber had been taken with a low light lens, but they
were still darker than she’d like. While she was able to
easily make out the skeletons’ proximity to one another, it
would be much more difficult to use the pictures to tell
which one was which. There was a preliminary report from the ME, Steve Michaels,
and it appeared to be solid work. Exact measurements of
each set of bones were included, as was a thorough
examination for evidence of trauma. None of the skeletons
showed recent signs of injury. Perhaps the missing skulls
would. Or maybe the deaths were the result of poison. Cait
narrowed her eyes, considering. She found herself hoping
the decapitation had been enacted posthumously. The deaths
would be too gruesome to contemplate otherwise. Had the skulls been removed to impede identification of the
victims? To prevent investigators from detecting a telltale
method of death? Or were they kept by the perp as trophies? Taking a look at her watch, Cait began gathering up the
materials and replacing them in the file. But it occurred
to her that if she could answer those questions, she’d be a
long way toward profiling the UNSUB they were searching for. Kristy Jensen was a full foot shorter than Cait at
four-eleven, a wispy ethereal creature with an otherworldly
air. Slap a pair of wings on her, and with her elfin
features and blonde wavy hair, Cait had always thought she’d
looked like a fairy in a kid’s storybook. Once she opened her mouth, however, that notion would be
dispelled forever. “There is no fucking good way to get to this fuck dump of a
town, you know that, don’t you?” Kristy sipped at her
Starbucks coffee and aimed a gimlet stare over the rim from
cornflower blue eyes. “Charter plane, my ass. Eight
fucking hours it took me from Dulles. I could have walked
faster. I could have parachuted half way here, hitched a
ride on a mother-fucking migrating duck and still gotten
here before that damn plane.” “So the plane ride was good?” Cait laughed at her
diminutive friend fingered her as they entered the morgue.
“And you owe me four bucks. I’m giving you a pass on the
‘damn’, and the one finger salute, because at least that’s
silent.” “We haven’t even started work yet,” Kristy complained. But
she was already digging in her purse to pull out the money.
“I think we should change the rules so it only counts
during work time.” “Tough love.” Cait snatched the five from the woman’s hand
and handed her a one in change. “You wanted help cleaning
up your language. Can’t change the rules mid course.” “Why not, nothing else has changed, except for my disposable
income. I’m still swearing like a one-legged sailor.” They showed their temporary ID to the clerk at the front
desk and headed down the long hallway to the room where
Andrews had brought Cait the evening before. “Discipline,” she chided. But there was no heat to the
word. She could care less whether Kristy sounded like a
hardened special ops soldier, as long as she did her job to
Cait’s exact specifications. And since she was the best
assistant she’d ever been assigned, Cait was satisfied.
“Anyway you’ll cheer up quick enough once you see what we
have to work with.” She paused before the door at the end
of the hall, before opening it with a dramatic flourish. “Sweeeeet,” Kristy breathed, when she got a glimpse of the
remains on the gurneys. “Very sweet. What do we have, mass
burial? Mass murder,” she corrected as she got closer and
noted the lack of human skulls attached. “I suppose we have to allow for the possibility that someone
stumbled upon that cave long before the wilderness guide
did,” mused Cait. The thought had occurred belatedly, once
she’d gone to bed, the contents of the files still filling
her mind. “Someone with a sense of the macabre who took the
skulls as souvenirs.” There were other possibilities, of
course. But she found it unlikely that a group of cave
explorers would have all followed each other down into the
chamber, once one had fallen in. Unless it was a suicide pact. Kristy was practically salivating as she walked between each
gurney. “So you want me to clean them first, right? And
then match up the spare parts with the proper skeleton?” “I want you to start a photograph log first,” Cait
corrected. “I need a notebook kept of images of each
skeleton throughout each step of the process.” It would
easier to correct mistakes that way, especially in the
tricky process of reassembling the full remains of each,
which was often a matter of trial and error. “The ME should
be around somewhere. Get him to give you a copy of the
measurements he’s done.” “But you’ll want me to do my own,” the other woman said surely. Cait sent her a look of approval. “I doubt he had a caliper
to do the measurements with. We’ll want to double check and
make sure the bones are with the right remains. Match the
spare ones over on that extra gurney. And then you can
clean the bones. And we’ll see exactly what we’ve got here.” “What should I do in my spare time?” But her sarcasm was
checked. Kristy was hooked by the enormity of their task,
just as Cait was. Anticipation was all but radiating off
her in waves. “I heard voices.” At the sound of the newcomer the women
turned toward the door. The man approaching them was
average height, with hair as dark as Cait’s. He wore blue
scrubs, shoe covers and a slight smile that faded as he got
closer. Then his expression took on that slightly stunned
expression that was all too familiar. He stared from Cait
to Kristy and back again, with the look of a starving man
surrounded by a steaming banquet. “Ah. . . Michaels.” He
held out his hand to each of them in turn, visibly wrestling
to get the words out in proper order. “Steve. I am, that is.” He looked chagrined but Cait spared him no slack. “Well,
Michaels Steve, I’m Cait Fleming.” She jerked a thumb at
the other woman. “My assistant Kristy Jensen. I’ve got
your preliminary report. Appreciate it. Kristy will be
working down here most of the time. I’ve been assured that
whatever she needs, she can come to you.” While she spoke the man seemed to have regained his powers
of speech. But twin flags of color rode high on his cheeks
and his dark eyes still looked dazed. “Certainly.” He
dragged his gaze away from Cait and fixed it on Kristy.
“Certainly,” he repeated. “Then I’ll leave you to get started.” She didn’t know if
the investigator would be here yet, but she wasn’t anxious
to spend any more time with the ME who looked like he’d just
cast them in a low budget porn fantasy involving a threesome
and a stainless steel coroner’s station. She started out
of the room, throwing a look at Kristy over her shoulder.
“Keep me posted.” As she headed through the door she heard her assistant say
sweetly, “So Michaels Steve, why don’t we go out to the
truck and you can help unload the mother-fucking equipment.” A smirk on her lips, Cait decided to let it slide. Nothing
to shatter a guy’s X rated fantasy than a pint sized angelic
blonde with a mouth like a sewage plant. She almost felt
sorry for him. Would have if she weren’t still annoyed at
his all too common reaction. As it was, she figured he was
going to get exactly what he deserved working with Kristy. When she stepped out of the morgue doors she saw the Lane
County Sheriff squad car pulling up to the curb a full
fifteen minutes early. Her good humor restored, Cait
rounded it to approach the driver’s door. A stocky deputy
got out, extended his hand. “Mitch Barnes, Ms. Fleming.” Belatedly, Cait realized she was still wearing the morgue
temporary ID. She pulled it off as she shook hands with the
deputy. “Looking forward to working with you, Mitch.” The man came to her chin, had receding blonde hair and brown
eyes that were pure cop. And it was her shoulder harness
that drew his attention rather than her face or figure. She
liked him immediately for that fact alone. “Sheriff says you want to head up to Mckenzie Bridge. Over
to Castle Rock.” She nodded as she dropped her ID into her purse. “I’d like
to get a look at the dumpsite. Get a feel for it.” “You got the pictures?” Understanding what he was getting at, she nodded. “Still
want to see it.” Shrugging, he leaned into his front seat only to withdraw a
moment later with an armful of maps. “Andrews said you
asked for these.” “I did, thanks.” She took stack from him. “If you want to
lead the way up to the McKenzie Bridge area, I’ll follow
this time. That way you don’t have to wait around while I
go through the cave if you don’t want to.” “Sounds good. It’s about a forty-five minute drive. I’ll
call Sharper on the way and let him know we’re coming by.”
A smirk flashed across the man’s otherwise professional
demeanor. “He’ll be thrilled to take you to the cave.” Coupled with the sheriff’s comments the night before, Cait
had the distinct impression that the guide they kept
mentioning was light on social graces. The thought didn’t
bother her nearly as much as it would if he were another
ogler like the ME. Men like that rarely brought out the best in her. How the hell had he gotten into this mess? Fuming, Zach Sharper threw another look at the rear view
mirror at the empty ribbon of road behind him. The answer
was swift in coming. Ever since he’d reported his findings
from that cave, Andrews had had him wrapped up like a damn
trick monkey. First he’d had to lead law enforcement to the
place. Then there’d been the incessant questioning. And now he found himself forced to be at the beck and call
of some consultant hired by the sheriff’s office. Playing
glorified nursemaid to a cop—or close enough to a
cop—promised to be worse than the biggest pain in the ass
client he ran across from time to time. At least he had a
choice taking on the clients. Yeah, not being given a choice here rankled the most. He saw the county car headed toward him. Zach put on his
sunglasses and got out of his Jeep. Damned if he’d been
about to travel down to Eugene and then back again, once
he’d heard what the consultant wanted. And he sure as hell
hadn’t wasn’t going to arrange for the cops to meet him at
his place. Whispering Pines was his getaway. His refuge.
Guests were rarely invited. A small navy SUV pulled off the road in back of the
sheriff’s car. He was unsurprised to see Mitch Barnes get
out of the lead car. The way Zach heard it Barnes did most
of the grunt work for Andrews while she got all the glory.
He’d been the first of the cops to follow Zach into that
cave. The sheriff sure hadn’t gone in, though she’d been
present, running things on top Castle Rock while her people
had hauled the bones out. If Barnes wanted another pass at
the cave he sure as hell didn’t need Zach. He knew where it
was located. Made a guy wonder if this was just one more way for Andrews
to yank his chain, show him that she was calling the shots. He got out of the car and walked toward the deputy, who was
approaching on the inside shoulder. The driver of the SUV
got out, too, but it was Barnes Zach concentrated on. He
wasn’t a bad sort, for a cop. Maybe he could talk him into
a change of plans. Zach was resigned to the fact that he
wasn’t going to get out of this forced alliance with the
sheriff’s office. But Andrews wouldn’t necessarily have to
know whether he was the one playing nursemaid, or if one of
Zach’s employees fulfilled the duty. Although truth be told, he wasn’t sure he had an employee he
disliked enough to saddle with this job. “Barnes,” he said by way of greeting. The other man gave
him a nod. Wasting no time, he continued, “Maybe you and me
can reach a. . .” “Sharper, I want you to meet Caitlin Fleming, a consultant
for the sheriff’s department. She’s with Raiker Forensics.” The inflection in the man’s voice imbued his last words with
meaning. But it was his earlier words that had Zach halting
in disbelief. Tipping his Wayfarers down he looked—really
looked—at the woman approaching. The mile long legs could be right. And she was tall enough;
only a few inches shorter than his own six-three height.
The kiss-my-ass cheekbones were familiar. But it was the
thick black hair that clinched it, though shorter now than
it’d been all those years ago. He didn’t need her to remove
her tinted glasses to know the eyes behind them were moss
green and guaranteed to turn any breathing male into an
instant walking hard-on. His voice terse, he turned his attention to the deputy and
said, “Is this some kind of a joke?” Barnes blinked. “What?” “I mean are there going to be TV trucks and cameras
following our every move?” Christ, what a clusterfuck. He
could already imagine it. But he’d seen enough so-called
entertainment featuring desperate cultural celebrities to
anticipate what was going on here. “I’m not about to get
involved in a reality TV show or whatever the hell she’s
part of. You can tell Andrews the deal is off.” Andrews
had threatened to jam him up with the constant renewal of
permits needed to take his clients camping or kayaking. But
maybe he could bribe someone at the permit department to
circumvent her meddling. He was willing to take his chances. “What the hell are you talking about?” “He’s talking about me.” The voice was smoke, pure sex.
He’d never heard her speak before, but he’d imagined it
often enough years ago in his adolescent fantasies.
“Probably recognizes me from some of my modeling work, isn’t
that right, Sharper? A long time ago. If you want me to
believe you’ve changed from a sweaty hormone ridden teenage
boy who undoubtedly used one of my posters to fuel your
juvenile wet dreams, then you’ll have to credit that I too
grew up and moved on. I want a first hand look at that
cave. You’re going to take me there.” Somehow when he’d imagined her talking decades ago it had
been without that tone of withering disdain. His disbelief
dissipated, the skepticism remained. He slanted a glance
at the deputy. “Seriously, Barnes. This is the
department’s consultant?” The man’s manner was stiff. “Like I said, she’s from Raiker
Forensics. The Mindhunters. That might not mean
anything to you, but in law enforcement circles it carries a
helluva lot of weight.” Caitlin Fleming as a cop. The implausibility of it still
rang in his mind. But then he gave a mental shrug. Most
people in these parts used to be something else. Many were
reluctant to talk about their pasts. Including him. Especially him. He looked her over again, noting the jeans, tennis shoes and
long sleeve navy t-shirt. “Either we hike down Castle Rock
or climb up it. Either way, it’s not a walk in the park.
Mitch here can tell you that. You might want to rethink
visiting it in person.” Instead of responding, she looked at the deputy. “You
coming along?” He shook his head. “Once was enough for me. I’ve been
stopping in at the forest service stations in the area.
Getting a look at the citations they’ve issued in the last
few years.” She nodded. “I’ll be anxious to look them over when you’re
done. See you back in Eugene, then. This will probably
take most of the day.” She walked back to her SUV and
pulled a pack out of the back of it. Then she locked it and
headed back to where they stood waiting for her. “We’ll use your vehicle, Sharper. I don’t care which
approach we take to the cave, although I’ll want to explore
both of them.” She headed toward where he’d left his pickup
parked on the shoulder of the road. Her voice drifted
behind her as she walked away. “I’d already been warned you
were an asshole, so your attitude isn’t much of a surprise.
But it’ll be up to you to convince me that you’re as good
at your job as I’ve heard. Right now, I’ve got to say, I
have my doubts.”
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