Dark Shadows (Gia Santella Crime Thrillers Book 11), Kristi Belcamino [ereader with dictionary .TXT] 📗

I held the phone out to the young woman. “She probably as a dog with her, as well.”

As I said it, I watched her carefully. At the mention of the dog, she grew stiff. She thrust the phone back at me without even looking at the picture. Her hand was shaking wildly.

“I’ve never seen her before.”

And then all friendliness was gone and she turned her back.

“Let’s go,” she said to the group. They stood and within seconds were gone, down the beach. At one point, the shorter woman turned back to glance at me. She had hate in her eyes.

They knew Rose.

And they were afraid.

I wasn’t going to leave until I found out why.

I walked down the beach for a while looking up at the huts above. They were tucked back into the trees. I kept expecting to see a dark hair of head duck down in a window. But I didn’t see any movement.

I was nearly to the end of the row of buildings when I heard something and startled.

It was a dog barking, furiously, angrily as if it were attacking someone. The sound stopped abruptly.

I whirled and began to ran toward the buildings. I raced to the closest one and rounded the corner in time to see a car—the beat-up orange truck with my driver in it—squeal away down the dirt road, kicking up a plume of dust. Fuck. I couldn’t see inside the back window, but I knew. It was Rose. Had somebody had warned her? Why would she run away from me?

I looked around. There was not another vehicle in sight. Did none of these surf rats drive? I would never be able to catch up to her now.

Dejected and stranded, I headed back toward the closest hut.

The door was open. Gently, holding my breath, I pushed the door open. It squeaked loudly and I jumped.

Inside, a golden stream of sunlight poured through a window facing the beach. It was a small hut with an ancient tile floor covered in sand. The small space held a wooden table and two chairs. Something black and silver was on the floor. It was a phone. Rose’s phone. And it was crushed, the plastic smashed, the SIM card gone. She must have known it was how we found her. I glanced around looking for any clue, anything that would reveal her life here and why she’d ran away. The hut was tiny and contained very few belongings, which she’d apparently seen fit to leave behind. A small crate held a few clothing items and bottles of water.

In one corner was a thin futon mattress with a ratty blanket. I inhaled sharply when I saw what was lying next to it—a wadded up blanket covered with dog hair. I ran over and knelt down to see proof that Rose and her dog, Dylan, had been here.

As I crouched on the ground, I noticed something else and my heart stopped.

Blood. Fresh blood it was smeared all over the floor, so much so that I hadn’t even noticed it at first. My heart was pounding and my cheeks felt ice cold.

I heard a sound behind me and whirled.

At first I thought it was the wind howling through a crack in the bathroom wall. But it wasn’t— it was a small whimper. Then I saw a crumpled heap of black fur curled up in the corner of the bathroom floor. Oh my God. I raced over. It was Dylan. He was bleeding.

That’s when I realized—she hadn’t run away from me after all.

Someone had taken her.

And the worst part of all was that I might just have led someone to her hiding place.

To be continued…

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About the Author

Kristi Belcamino is a USA Today bestseller, an Agatha, Anthony, Barry & Macavity finalist, and an Italian Mama who bakes a tasty biscotti.

Her books feature strong, kickass, independent women facing unspeakable evil in order to seek justice for those unable to do so themselves.

In her former life, as an award-winning crime reporter at newspapers in California, she flew over Big Sur in an FA-18 jet with the Blue Angels, raced a Dodge Viper at Laguna Seca, attended barbecues at the morgue, and conversed with serial killers.

During her decade covering crime, Belcamino wrote and reported about many high-profile cases including the Laci Peterson murder and Chandra Levy disappearance. She has appeared on Inside Edition and local television shows. She now writes fiction and works part-time as a reporter covering the police beat for the St. Paul Pioneer Press.

Her work has appeared in such prominent publications as Salon, the Miami Herald, San Jose Mercury News, and Chicago Tribune.

Find her on Facebook HERE.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Getting to know my readers and building strong relationships with them is one of the best parts of being a writer. I’d love to know more about you and more about what you thought about this book. What did you like about it? Who was your favorite character? What do you want to see, or think will happen next?

Please reach out to me and let me know. I want to hear from you. Because while I’m a writer, I’m always a reader first. I know that when it comes to the books I read, I love connecting with the author. Often, when I interact with authors I love I get downright giddy!

Ask my family how I act each and every time S.E. Hinton responds to my tweets. (HINT: I am a ridiculously starstruck fangirl! Every. Single. Time.)

Or what about the time I got to interview Jackie Collins on Huffington Post’s live video. (Still one of the greatest moments of my writer life!) (Only thing that tops that is when I opened up an email from Lisa Unger telling me that she