The residents of Fieldston are healing from the hate crimes that tore the town apart while D’Shea Sinclair and her friends move forward, building lives with those they love. A series of unexplained incidents involving gunshots, drugs, and a mysterious disappearance lead police down a trail where people are not what they seem. Murky shadows loom large, remnants of the past surface, and mistrust is fueled by secrets…some innocent and others sinister. The investigation uncovers unlikely alliances, and a plot that just may tear the whole town apart once again.
When Camp Richland is put up for sale, time becomes the enemy. Will the mystery be unraveled before it’s too late?
The 2nd Fieldston mystery continues D’Shea and Evie’s love story alongside some familiar faces plus a few new ones. Enjoy the read. -DL
“I think I felt love for the first time right here on this boulder. For most of the eight weeks that summer, I existed on two or three hours of sleep because we didn’t want to be apart. We worked separate all day so when we could be together at night, we didn’t want to waste a moment. The weeks she was assigned to this unit, her co-counselors would tell her to come to bed. Instead, she stayed, talked with me, and watched the stars. We didn’t understand it. Had no name for it. For us, it was just a compelling need to be together. I’m not sure we even held hands. I know we did nothing else. But we fused our souls here.”
Evie had been listening silently and she shifted a bit closer before speaking. “First love. That’s a huge thing. What was her name?”
“Jax. Her name was Jax.” D’Shea’s tone signaled that her mind was in the past, reliving that summer as though it was unfolding right now.
“I don’t care if it’s
difficult,” the old man wheezed quietly, assuming the few people
nearby were all listening. He chose the meeting place carefully—an old, rundown
bar—but he knew there were ears everywhere. In this town, big ears
were hard to avoid. “The clock’s ticking so it needs to happen
soon. The old man stopped speaking, slammed his heavy glass mug
down on the table. He considered the two men facing him though
heavy-lidded, watery eyes. "We don't need a lot of attention so if
there's gonna be fallout, be sure it lands on someone else. If it
gets back to me or to him, you'll wish you never made this deal."
One of the men, who looked as though he'd stepped off the cover of
a military magazine was already on board with the plan. The third,
his eyes flat and expression cold, was a proxy who'd been warned
not to trust the wheezing old man. This was merely a means to an
end, he'd been told. A marriage of convenience.