Disclaimer:
If you prefer a happily ever after, you’ve reached the end of the story. But if you’d enjoy a teaser that ties in to the next book of the If Only She Knew Series, then read on…
Epilogue
Tara
I hadn’t walked the perimeter of the Rockin’ C Ranch property line in ages. Overgrown with waist-high dogfennel and pink-topped weeds, acres of lush woods surrounded the field that I traipsed a path through, assessing where I could fence in more pasture for the new herd of horses we were set to rescue from the kill pen later this month.
Atop their horses, Chris, Ginger, and Sloane rode on horseback, while I followed on foot. Peace’s great Pyrenees bounded ahead of us, a huge white pile of fluff weaving her way across the meadow.
Strands of green grass blew in the breeze, an endless blanket of emerald. As we headed toward the back corner where the field met the wood line, up ahead the dog stopped at the tree line’s edge, whining frantically.
“What’s wrong, Puffin?” I called to the dog as I lost sight of her in the grass.
Sitting atop of Callie, our escape artist horse, Chris spotted the dog and turned his horse in Puffin’s direction.
“I think she’s found something.” Chris squinted against the sun, nudging Callie into a slow trot.
The trail of horses picked up pace, while I stomped my way over ant hills and broken tree limbs toward the dog. When her furry back came into view, I watched her scratch at the earth, soil scattering behind her as she dug.
“I wonder what’s so fascinating,” Ginger commented, halting her horse before dismounting and interpreting the details to Sloane.
After helping Sloane dismount, we led the horses the short distance to where Puffin dug with fervor, her whining escalating into barking. As the four of us, shoulder to shoulder, drew near, we instantly stopped dead in our tracks as we stood at the foot of Puffin’s decent-sized hole.
Ginger let out a pitchy scream. Sloane stumbled back a step, cupping her mouth. Chris released a series of curse words. And my legs nearly collapsed beneath me with disbelief as the toe of my cowboy boot touched the edge of a large mound of freshly dug dirt. A human-sized rectangle of damp earth. The perfect size and shape of a grave.
“What the hell?” Chris was the first to step forward to pull the dog away.
“Do you think that’s…” I didn’t need to finish the question. We were all thinking the same thing.
“A human grave,” Chris answered.
Sloane looked to me, then Ginger, her hands signing familiar words that I remembered from our last tutoring session together. “Please tell me you didn’t bury a body back here.”
“You really need to ask? No. Of course this wasn’t us,” I signed back. I was getting more proficient each day.
As Puffin pulled against Chris’s grip, I noticed something poking up from the ground.
“What is that?” I leaned closer, dropped to my knees, and examined the dirt-covered gray flesh.
“Ew, it’s a hand!” Ginger shrieked.
“Don’t touch it!” Chris yelled. “And we need to get the dog out of here before she starts eating it or something.”
The visual made me gag as Ginger turned away in disgust.
I sank down in Puffin’s hole to look more carefully. The scent of decay and rotting remains hit my nose, making me cough. Pulling the neck of my shirt up over my nose helped a little, but not much.
“There’s something shiny here.”
I pointed to what appeared to be a jewel of some sort, but I didn’t want to touch it. While I had handled more than my fair share of dead things on the farm, human remains were where I drew the line. I let go of my shirt neckline and leaned in closer. Blowing the remaining layer of dirt off of the fingers, I realized what I was looking at.
A ring. One I recognized quite well. A distinct ring. Shiny gold with a ruby gem hugging a man’s thick ring finger.
“No, no, no,” I muttered, panic setting in.
“What’s wrong, Tara?” Chris asked.
“You mean other than the fact that you have a dead body buried on your land?” Ginger added.
“This isn’t good,” I muttered. “I know who’s buried here.” I looked up at Chris, a mixture of shock and fear filling me.
The ring belonged to my worst enemy. The last body I wanted buried on my property due to our very public history as archenemies. This was the one person who had the power and means to hurt me from beyond the grave.
Once the police saw this, my sentencing would be imminent. There was too much bad history between us for the authorities to believe I had nothing to do with this. And with his father basically running this town, all of Bloodson Bay would unquestioningly convict me.
All three sets of eyes turned on me—Ginger’s full of terror, Sloane’s full of confusion, and Chris’s full of worry.
“Who is it?” Sloane signed.
The words slid out of my mouth in a dreadful whisper. “I think it’s Victor Valance.”
**
Find out who else wants Victor Valance dead by ordering your copy of She Knows Too Much, the next book in the
If Only She Knew Series, by clicking here:
(Book 2)
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A cursed town. A family’s murder. A girl willing to risk everything to solve it.
She thinks she’s solving her family’s murder, not ensuring her own. If only she knew what danger lurked ahead…
Peace Bloodson always wondered about the origin of her family’s curse. Dark tales about the gruesome death of her ancestors, the founders of her hometown Bloodson Bay, are retold in fearful whispers around campfires. Wide-eyed children search the shadows for ghosts said to haunt the townsfolk. And the abandoned manor at the edge of her family’s farm—called the Slaughter Shed for good reason—holds mysteries no one can explain.
As the small-town rumors, and body count, have grown over the years, so does Peace’s curiosity.
When she finds a hidden journal that sheds light on what happened those fateful years ago, Peace uncovers a secret she doesn’t expect. An ancient murder she and her friends must solve to lay the ghosts to rest and restore her family’s reputation.
But as she discovers information that could cause a public scandal and tear her friendships apart, she faces a much more present danger as someone would kill to keep the truth hidden.
Throw on your favorite flannel and combat boots, then dive into this 1990s throwback thriller that smells like teen spirit as a group of friends risk their so-called lives to stop a town’s curse. But some threats are far worse than any curse…
Click to read the origin story of the Bloodson Bay curse: