Excerpt from Green Briar Lies

(working title only--A mainstream mystery with a strong romance in the plot)

She knew her mother was dead. And she knew it was her fault. The death-grip the child already had on her aunt tightened as she pressed her face deeper into Mae Alexander’s lap. It wasn’t every day her mother disappeared, and the killer showed up asking if she could identify him.

How many times must he ask her that? He knew very well who “That Nice Man” was!

But the persistent and repetitive questions continued. “Morgan,” he said gently, “the last person to see your mother was you. You said “That Nice Man” called just after she left. You said you had spoken with him on the phone several times before. Did he ever tell you his name?”

The ineffective Sheriff was nudged aside as Mae pried the youngster’s face from her skirt. Morgan looked up into mascaraed eyes as his partner tried to succeed where her cohort had failed.

“Sweetheart,” she cooed, “we know this is difficult for you.” She placed manicured fingers on Morgan’s arm. “But if you know anything that might help us find your mother, please tell us.”

She appealed to reason. “She might be hurt and waiting for us to find her.”

The over-wrought girl knew that wasn’t true. One thing she knew for certain. If Lilli was alive, Sampson never would have left her. He would still be missing as well.

But he wasn’t.

He was safe in his stall, right where Uncle Willie had put him after returning him home last night, without her mother.

A soul-chilling wail filled the space as Morgan released her aunt and fled the room … racing towards a refuge that would elude her for the next seventeen years.

~~

Seventeen Years Later

Morgan paused in the doorway of the first place she’d seen in miles where she might find a soft drink. The gravel parking lot and weathered sign at Buchanan’s General Store were just as she remembered. So was the interior. It was just as dim, and, if possible, even more drab than the last time she had been here. She doubted the plank floor had ever seen a coat of paint.

Just inside, in the front of the store and to her left, a group of old-timers occupied a cluster of chairs forming a common area around the old heating stove. Those couldn’t possibly be the same ones…could they? They were focused on whittling, spitting, prognosticating about local elections, and bragging about their favorite hunting hounds.

Had it really been seventeen years? Standing here it seemed like only yesterday. Nothing had changed.

One old-timer, fed-up with politics and regaling the group with stories of the long dead but legendary hunting dog, Blue Boy, choked off his discourse mid-sentence when he spotted Morgan. Unable to take his eyes from her, mouth still open, he slumped back into his chair. This started a chain reaction where the whittling slowed…then stopped altogether…as the men, one by one, looked toward the entrance…and froze.

Morgan paused, her hand still holding the door. She was parched and wanted a soft drink, but maybe she should leave. The old-timer’s reactions to her arrival did nothing to assure her that coming back had been the right thing….

A town is living a lie and dying of a disease called fear. The truth about one woman’s disappearance changes another woman’s life forever and brings an entire town to its knees.

Subscribe for book release announcement of my debut novel!