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Copyright © 2016 by Blake Pierce. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright GongTo, used under license from Shutterstock.com.
Prologue
Janine thought she saw something dark in the water down near the shoreline. It was big and black, and it seemed to move a little in the gently lapping water.
She took a hit off the marijuana pipe and handed it back to her boyfriend. Could that be a really big fish? Or some other kind of creature?
Janine shook herself a little, telling herself not to let her imagination run away with her. Getting scared would ruin her high. Nimbo Lake was a huge artificial reservoir stocked for fishing just like lots of other Arizona lakes. There’d never been tales of Nessie monsters around here.
She heard Colby say, “Wow, the lake’s on fire!”
Janine turned to look at her boyfriend. His freckled face and red hair glowed in the late afternoon sunlight. He had just taken a hit off the pipe and was staring across the water with an expression of idiotic awe.
Janine giggled. “You’re just lit, dude,” she said. “In every way.”
“Yeah, so is the lake,” Colby said.
Janine turned and looked out over Nimbo Lake. Even though her own high hadn’t quite kicked in yet, the sight was stunning. The late afternoon sun set the canyon wall ablaze in reds and golds. The water reflected the colors like a big smooth mirror.
She remembered that nimbo was Spanish for halo. The name totally fit.
She took back the pipe and inhaled deeply, feeling the welcome burn down her throat. She’d be good and high any minute now. It was going to be fun.
Still, what was that black shape down in the water?
Just a trick of the light, Janine told herself.
Whatever it was, it was best to ignore it, not get creeped out by it, or scared. Everything else was so perfect. This was their favorite spot, hers and Colby’s – so beautiful, tucked into one of the coves on the lake, away from the campgrounds, away from everything, everybody.
She and Colby usually came here on weekends, but today they had cut school and just taken off. The late summer weather was too good to pass up. It was way cooler and nicer up here than back in Phoenix. Colby’s old car was parked off the dirt road behind them.
As she looked out over the lake, the buzz came on – the feeling of a really great impending high. The lake seemed almost too intensely gorgeous to look at. So she looked at Colby. He looked intensely gorgeous too. She grabbed hold of him and kissed him. He kissed her back. He tasted fabulous. Everything about him looked and felt fabulous.
She pulled her lips away from his and looked into his eyes and said breathlessly, “Nimbo means halo, did you know that?”
“Wow,” he said. “Wow.”
He sounded like that was the most amazing thing he’d ever heard in his life. He looked and sounded so funny, saying that, like it was religious or something. Janine started to laugh, and Colby laughed too. In another couple of seconds, they were completely tangled up in each other’s arms, groping and pawing.
Janine managed to disentangle herself.
“What’s the matter?” Colby asked.
“Nothing,” Janine said.
In a flash, she pulled off her halter top. Colby’s eyes widened.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
She began to struggle with his T-shirt, trying to pull it off of him.
“Wait a minute,” Colby said. “Right here?”
“Why not right here? It’s better than the back seat of your car. Nobody’s looking.”
“But maybe a boat …”
Janine laughed. “If there’s a boat, so what? Who cares?”
Colby was cooperating now, helping her get him out of his T-shirt. They were both clumsy with excitement, which only added to the thrill. Janine couldn’t imagine why they hadn’t done this here before. It wasn’t like this was the first time they’d smoked pot here.
But Janine kept picturing that shape down in the water. It was something, and until she knew what it was, it would keep nagging at her and ruin everything.
Panting, she rose to her feet.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go check something.”
“What?” Colby asked.
“I dunno. Just come on.”
She took Colby’s hand and they stumbled down the rough slope toward the shore. Janine’s buzz was starting to turn sour now. She hated when that happened. The sooner she found out that this whole thing was harmless, the sooner she could get back to feeling good.
Still, she was starting to wish her high hadn’t come on so fast and so strong.
With every step, the object came into clearer view. It was made out of black plastic, and here and there bubbles of it broke through the water’s surface. And there was something small and white right alongside of it.
Just a yard away from the water, Janine could see that it was a big black garbage bag. It was open at the end, and out of the opening poked the shape of a hand, unnaturally pale.
A mannequin, maybe, Janine thought.
She bent down toward the water to get a closer look. The fingernails were painted garishly red in contrast to the paleness. A terrible realization ripped through Janine’s body like an electrical current.
The hand was real. It was a woman’s hand. The bag contained a dead body.
Janine started screaming. She heard Colby scream too.
And she knew that they wouldn’t be able to stop screaming for a long time.
Chapter One
Riley knew that the slides she was about to show would shock her FBI Academy students. Some of them probably weren’t going to be able to take it. She scanned the eager young faces watching her from the half-circle of tiered desks.
Let’s see how they react, she thought. This could be important for them.
Of course, Riley knew that in the whole range of criminal offenses, serial murder was rare. Still, these young people had to learn everything there was to learn. They aspired to be FBI field agents and they’d soon find