"Shadows hidden in the bushes have you sleeping with one eye open..."
Reviewed by Sandra Wurman
Posted February 5, 2006
Romance Suspense
Beth Anderson is looking forward to a quiet weekend vacation
from her job at a local yacht club. What better way to relax
than boating to a little remote island with her widowed
brother and his daughter. Stroll the beach, catch fish, dine
on the catch of the day and sunbathe -- sounds so wonderful
-- who would have guessed it would be so dangerous. Quite
innocently Beth and her niece Amber and friend Kim
accidentally stumble upon what appears to be a skull. Beth
is obviously troubled by this find recollecting the
disappearance of a local retired couple who had headed off
on a voyage and not been heard from since. She is deeply
troubled by the discovery but even more so by the skull's
disappearance. There were four boatloads of vacationers on
the island and the nagging question is "who took the skull?"
And of course the burning question "why?" No one on the
island seems beyond suspicion. Enter the ever mysterious
Keith Henson who is also "vacationing" on the island with
two buddies and the race is on. At any given turn the
possible murderers and motive change as the mystery of the
skull follows the vacationer's home after their weekend on
the island. After receiving threats toward herself and her
niece Beth finds herself suddenly feeling paranoid and
frightened by every shadow. Problem is no one else seems to
take her fears seriously -- except of course the person or
persons lurking in the shadows. Even her growing intimacy
with Keith is unsettling since she can't be certain what or
who he is -- criminal or police.
Graham has written a very tightly woven mystery that keeps
you guessing. Like Beth you really don't know who is to be
trusted and that's what keeps you turning page after page.
As Beth digs for more answers what she uncovers put her and
her family in greater danger but events have gained momentum
and she needs help. Problem is who she can turn to. Graham doesn't go for easy answers or solutions to this
mystery and the culprits are not uncovered until the very
end of the book when all loose ends are neatly tied. The
results are unsettling and candidly surprising. And that's
what makes this book worth reading. Great cast including
some interesting supporting characters bring you into the
chase for the truth along with Beth. There are some really
unsettling moments -- just as Graham planned.
SUMMARY
A slice of paradise in the turquoise waters of southern
Florida, the island is a lush, breathtaking sanctuary. Few
can resist its allure, or its primitive beauty--but fewer
still know its secrets. On a weekend vacation with her brother and niece, Beth
Anderson is unnerved when a stroll on the beach reveals
what
appears to be a skull, and instantly recalls the retired
couple who disappeared off the island's coast a few months
earlier. As a stranger approaches, Beth panics and covers
the evidence. But when she later returns to the beach, the
skull is gone. Determined to find solid evidence to bring to the police,
Beth digs deeper into the mystery of the skull--and
everywhere she goes, Keith Henson seems to appear. He
claims
to be keeping an eye on her safety, but Beth senses other
motives. Then a body washes ashore, and Beth begins to
think
she needs more help than she bargained for. Because
investigating is a dangerous game, and someone wants to
stop
Beth from playing.
ExcerptIT WAS A SKULL.That much Beth Anderson knew after two seconds of dusting
off bits of dirt and grass and fallen palm debris. "Well?" Amber demanded. "What is it?" Kimberly asked, standing right behind Amber,
anxiously trying to look over her shoulder. Beth glanced up briefly at her fourteen-year-old niece and
her niece's best friend. Until just seconds ago, the two
had been talking a mile a minute, as they always did,
agreeing that their friend Tammy was a bitch, being far
too cruel to her best friend, Aubrey, who in turn came to
Amber and Kimberly for friendship every time she was being
dissed by Tammy. They weren't dissing anyone themselves,
they had assured Beth, because they weren't saying
anything they wouldn't say straight to Tammy's face. Beth loved the girls, loved being with them, and was
touched to be the next best thing to a mother for Amber,
who had lost her own as an infant. She was accustomed to
listening to endless discussions on the hottest music, the
hottest new shows and the hottest new movies — and who did
and didn't deserve to be in them, since the girls were
both students at a magnet school for drama. The main topic on their hot list had recently become boys.
On that subject, they could truly talk endlessly. But now their continual chatter had come to a dead stop.
Kimberly had been the one to stub her toe on the unknown
object. Amber had been the one to stoop down to look, then demand
that her aunt come over. "Well?" Kim prodded. "Dig it up, Beth." "Um...I don't think I should," Beth said, biting her lower
lip. It wasn't just a skull. She couldn't see it clearly,
there was so much dirt and debris, but despite the fact
that it was half hidden by tangled grasses and the sandy
ground, she could see more than bone. There was still hair, Beth thought, her stomach churning.
And even tissue. She didn't want the girls seeing what they had discovered
any more closely. Beth felt as if the blood in her veins had suddenly turned
to ice. She didn't touch the skull; she carefully laid a
palm frond over it, so she would recognize the spot when
she returned to it. She wasn't about to dig anything up
with the girls here. She dusted her hands and stood quickly, determined that
they had to get back to her brother; who was busy setting
up their campsite. They were going to have to radio the
police, since cell phones didn't seem to work out here. A feeling of deep unease was beginning to ooze along her
spine as vague recollections of a haunting news story
flashed into her mind: Molly and Ted Monoco, expert
sailors, had seemed to vanish into thin air. The last place they'd actually been seen was Calliope Key,
right where they were now. "Let's go get Ben," she suggested, trying not to sound as
upset as she felt. "It's a skull, isn't it?" Amber demanded. She was a beautiful girl, tall and slender, with huge
hazel eyes and long dark hair. The way she looked in a
bathing suit — a two-piece, but hardly a risqué bikini —
was enough to draw the attention of boys who were much too
old for her, at least in Beth's opinion. Kimberly was the
opposite of Amber, a petite blonde with bright blue eyes,
pretty as a picture. Sometimes the fact that she was in charge of two such
attractive and impressionable girls seemed daunting. She
knew she tended to be a worrywart, but the idea of any
harm coming to the girls was... Okay! She was the adult here. In charge. And it was time
to do something about that. But they were practically alone on an island with no
phones, no cars...not a single luxury. A popular
destination for the local boat crowd, but distant and
desolate. It was two to three hours back to Miami with the engine
running, though Fort Lauderdale was closer, and it was
hardly an hour to a few of the Bahamian islands. She inhaled and exhaled. Slowly. The human mind was amazing. Moments ago she had been
delighted by the very remoteness of the island, pleased
that there weren't any refreshment stands, automobiles or
modern appliances of any kind. But now... "Might be a skull," Beth admitted, and she
forced a grin, lifting her hands. "And might not be," she
lied. "Your dad isn't going to be happy about this, Amber,
when he's been planning this vacation for so long, but —" She broke off. She hadn't heard the sound of footsteps or
even the rustle of foliage, but as she spoke, a man
appeared. He had emerged from an overgrown trail through one of the
thick hummocks of pines and palms that grew so profusely
on the island. It was that elemental landscape that brought real boat
people here, the lack of all the things that came with the
real world. So why did his arrival feel so threatening? Trying to be rational with herself, she decided that he
looked just right for the type of person who should be
here. He had sandy hair and was deeply tanned. No, not
just tanned but bronzed, with the kind of dyed-in-deep
coloring that true boat people frequently seemed to
acquire. He was in good shape, but not heavily muscled. He
was in well-worn denim cutoffs, and his feet were clad in
deck shoes, no socks. His feet were as bronze as his body,
so he must have spent plenty of time barefoot. Like a guy who belonged on a boat, cruising the out
islands. One who knew what he was doing. One who would
camp where there were no amenities. He also wore shades. Anyone would, she told herself. She had on sunglasses, as
did the girls. So why did his seem suspicious, dark and
secretive. She needed to be reasonable, she told herself. She was
only feeling this sudden wariness because she had just
found a skull, and instinctive panic was setting in. It
was odd how the psyche worked. Any other time, if she had
run into someone else on the island, she would have been
friendly. But she had just found a skull, and he reminded her of the
unknown fate of Ted and Molly Monoco, who had been here,
and then... Sailed into the sunset? An old friend had reported them missing when they hadn't
radioed in, as they usually did. And she had just found a skull at their last known
location. So she froze, just staring at the man. Amber, at fourteen, hadn't yet begun to think of personal
danger in the current situation. Her father was a boat
person, so she was accustomed to other boat people, and
she was friendly when she met them. She wasn't stupid or
naive, and she had been taught street smarts — she went to
school in downtown Miami, for one thing. She could be
careful when she knew she should. Apparently that didn't seem to be now. Amber smiled at the stranger and said, "Hi." "Hi," he returned. "Hi," Kim said. Amber nudged Beth. "Um — hi." "Keith Henson," the man said, and though she couldn't see
his eyes, his shades were directed toward her. His face
had good solid lines. Strong chin, high-set cheekbones.
The voice was rich and deep. He should have been doing voice-overs for commercials or
modeling. Hey, she mocked herself. Maybe that was what he did
do. "I'm Amber Anderson," her niece volunteered. "This is
Kim Smith, and that's my aunt Beth." She was obviously
intrigued and went on to say, "We're camping here." "Maybe," Beth said quickly. Amber frowned. "Oh, come on! Just because —" "How do you do, Mr. Henson," Beth said, cutting off her
niece's words. She stepped forward quickly, away from
their find. "Nice to meet you. Down here on vacation? Where are you
from?" Oh, good, that was casual. A complete third degree in ten
seconds or less. "Recent transplant, actually a bit of a roamer," he told
her, smiling, offering her his hand. It was a fine hand.
Long fingered, as bronzed as the rest of him, nails
clipped and clean. Palm callused. He used his hands for
work. He was a real sailor, definitely, or did some other
kind of manual labor. She had the most bizarre thought that when she accepted
his handshake, he would wrench her forward, and then his
fingers would wind around her neck. The fear became so
palpable that she almost screamed aloud to the girls to
run. He took her hand briefly in a firm but not too powerful
grip, then released it. "Amber, Kim," he said, and shook
their hands as he spoke. "So are you folks are from the area?" he asked, and looked
at the girls, smiling. Apparently he'd already written
Beth off as a total flake. She slipped between the two girls, feeling her bulldog
attitude coming on and setting an arm around each girl's
shoulders. "Yep!" Amber said. "Well, kind of," Kim said. "I mean, we're not from the island we're standing on, but
nearby," Amber said. Henson's smile deepened. Beth tried to breathe normally and told herself that she
was watching far too many forensics shows on television.
There was no reason to believe she had to protect the
girls from this man. But no reason to trust him on sight, either. "Are you
planning on camping on the island?" Beth asked. He waved a
hand toward the sea. "I'm not sure yet. I'm with some
friends...we're doing some diving, some fishing. We
haven't decided whether we're in a camping mood or not." "Where are your friends?" Beth asked. A little sharply?
she wondered. So much for being casual, able to easily
escape a bad situation, if it should prove to be one. "At the moment I'm on my own." "I didn't see your dinghy," Beth said. "In fact, I didn't
even notice another boat in the area." "It's there," he said, "the Sea Serpent." He cocked his
head wryly. "My friend, Lee, who owns her, likes to think
of himself as the brave, adventurous type. Did you sail
out here on your own?" It might have been an innocent question, but not to Beth.
Not at this moment. She had been swearing for years that she was going to take
kung fu classes or karate, but as yet, she hadn't quite
done so. She always carried pepper spray in her purse. But, of
course, she had been wandering inland with the girls, just
walking, and she wasn't carrying her purse. She wasn't
carrying anything. She had on sandals and a bathing suit.
Like the girls. "Are you alone?" Keith Henson repeated politely. Politely? Or menacingly? "Oh, no. We're with my brother. And a whole crowd." "A whole crowd —" Amber began. Beth pinched her shoulder. "Ow!" Amber gasped. "Lots of my brother's friends are coming in.
Sailors...boat people...you know, big guys, the kind who
can twist off beer caps with their teeth," Beth said,
trying to sound light.
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