Hello and welcome to my page! I’m so glad you’re here. My name is Christa and I’m excited to share a sneak peek of my new cozy mystery, “Read & Buried.”
It is available now as an ebook on Amazon here, and will be released as a paperback on Amazon on September 30th!
Sign up for my newsletter here, for access to the free book club kit, which includes discussion questions and a fun vintage-inspired fall recipe to share at your book club meeting!
Chapter 1: Like Mother, Like Daughter
Marie strained to see through the torrential rain pounding her windshield. The distant silhouette of a pointed turret emerged above the misty treetops. She stopped the truck.
“No way are we going in there, girlie,” said Tiffany from the passenger seat.
“Yeah, I’m with Tiffany,” Brooke piped up from the back seat.
“You guys can stay in the car,” said Marie. “I’m doing this.”
She pulled her coat over her head like an umbrella and braced herself against the icy October rain.
“Ugh, we’re coming, we’re coming,” said Tiffany.
The two women slid out of the truck and followed her, their flashlights bobbing as they ran.
“Slow down a little,” yelled Tiffany. “I didn’t know we’d be climbing a mountain.”
Marie stopped a few yards ahead of them, captivated by a glimmer of metal in the weeds.
“Train tracks?” said Brooke, brushing back the tall grass.
“Leading deeper into the woods? Wonderful,” mumbled Tiffany.
They followed the tracks into the trees.
The wind scooped up piles of leaves and threw them into the sky, sending confetti of reds and oranges across the women’s faces. Owls hooted and cast their noble silhouettes across the rising moon. Thunder shook the ground, and lightning tore through the sky.
“I know we’re technically a murder mystery book club,” said Brooke, trembling, “but I’m not interested in being the protagonists of our own.”
“We’ll stick together,” called Marie over her shoulder, then stopped suddenly. “I think I see something! Over there!”
A small wooden building took shape behind the branches, several yards away.
“It almost looks like a dollhouse,” said Brooke in astonishment.
“I think it’s an old train station,” said Marie. “See—there’s a platform and canopy. This must be where the tracks lead.”
“Adorable,” said Tiffany, “but can we please take a minute to come up with an actual plan? This is my first time breaking and entering, and I want to be sure I do it right.” She paused. “Marie?”
But Marie didn’t respond. She stood motionless, her head tilted up, captivated by something much larger in the distance. The mist had cleared, and from this spot in the woods, they could see the hospital clearly.
It was massive, much larger than it looked in the grainy video, with its numerous sloped rooftops, turrets, and chimneys. But Marie was most struck by the windows and how they glowed when the lightning struck, giving the illusion that something was stirring within its walls. Her nerves started to disintegrate.
“Marie, this is crazy. We can’t do this,” said Tiffany, more emphatically.
Marie started to believe her.
She nervously reached into her jacket pocket and fingered the small, antique photograph. She pictured the baby’s sweet, dimpled face and pudgy hands, and felt her heart ache.
This crazy plan was all for the little girl she’d never actually met but desperately needed to save. She felt a surge of resolve rush through her again.
“We’ve got to do this for Lily.”
~~~
3 weeks earlier
Marie closed her book and hugged her steaming coffee mug. The porch steps creaked as she relaxed against the railing. She scanned the book cover again—a dashing pilot standing in front of a large plane with a golden moon in the background—and ran her fingers over the title: Murder in Plane Site.
“Not plain enough for me to guess,” she said, disappointed.
She prided herself on being an expert sleuth. She could always unravel the mystery before the end of the book. But not this time.
The orange-speckled pumpkin field beside the house was bathed in morning light. It looked like the AI cover of a cheesy fall romance novel. Marie couldn’t believe the Midwest actually looked like this.
She pulled her sweater tight around her shoulders as a chilly breeze swept through her hair. She was thankful she’d finally traded in her breezy linen shirts for something more substantial, although she still didn’t feel herself in plaid.
She rested her chin in her hand and sighed. She missed the alive smell of the ocean. Although the fall air smelled like campfire, it was still the melancholy scent of the summer’s end.
A sudden wail erupted from inside the farmhouse. Ricky, her rambunctious one-year-old, was awake. Her husband’s soothing voice mingled with the cries. Both voices got louder until they reached the kitchen just behind her.
“Ricky’s up,” said Tom, popping his head out the back door.
“Haha, I heard.”
Marie laughed.
She caught sight of a yellow rectangle cresting the hill in the distance and gasped.
“Is it 7:30 already? She’s going to miss the bus!” She shot up and chased after him. “Did you get Violet up?”
No reply.
She noticed that little black earbud nestled in Tom’s ear and started imagining all the ways she could destroy it. A vacuum tragedy? The garbage disposal could also come in handy. Marie’s mind raced with thoughts of destruction when her twelve-year-old daughter came stomping down the stairs.
“Violet, honey,” Marie said urgently. “The school bus is almost here. Is your volleyball stuff all ready?”
Violet rolled her eyes.
Eyerolling was another new thing her daughter had started doing after the move.
“I’m not going to play. Volleyball is so dumb,” said Violet.
Marie felt her face get hot.
“You can’t talk to me like that, remember,” said Marie, scrunching her nose at the sudden and incredible amount of perfume emanating from her daughter as she passed.
“Your mom is right,” said Tom. “Also, your teammates are counting on you.” He spooned some scrambled eggs onto Ricky’s highchair tray.
“The girls won’t care if I’m not there,” said Violet, grabbing a piece of toast.
Marie noticed some tears welling in Violet’s eyes.
“But they’re your friends, honey,” said Marie, softening her tone.
“No, all my friends are in Miami on my old volleyball team.” She rolled her eyes again.
“Have you given these girls a chance? It doesn’t seem like you’ve really tried,” said Marie, pulling out her daughter’s volleyball bag from the closet.
“That’s not true,” said Violet. “You don’t have friends either.” The bus rolled up and honked. Violet escaped through the door, leaving Marie to sit with what her daughter had just said. She exhaled sharply.
“We need to figure this attitude thing out,” she said to her husband’s back. He turned—bud out. Tom pulled her close to himself, giving her a kiss on the cheek to avoid wearing pretty pink peony to the office.
“I know. It’s not good,” he agreed.
“Where did my little girl go? The one who loved staying up late watching history documentaries and wanted to be an architect just like Mommy. Remember that? Ugh, I’m losing her, babe.” Marie looked down at their slippers.
“I’ll have a talk with her tomorrow,” said Tom.
“Not tonight? You’re not going to the game?” said Marie, shooting him a look.
“I work till 8:30 because of that meeting,” he said.
Marie’s body tensed as Ricky started to cry. She pictured herself balancing his wailing little self on one hip with the bulky diaper bag on her back, trying to dodge all the preppy, plaid-wearing moms at Violet’s school.
“I love you,” said Tom, forgetting about the lipstick.
“Love you too,” she said.
She watched him hurry down the driveway to his truck. A knot formed in her stomach.
Who am I going to sit with? Violet is right. I have no friends. None. Marie sighed. At least the coffee shop employees all know my name.
She looked down at her empty coffee cup. Maybe today was the day she should finally try pumpkin spice.
Thanks for Reading!
Christa