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The Drowned Woman
Terry Lynn Thomas
Family secrets won’t always stay buried… December 1937. When Zeke’s sister-in-law Rachel Caen was found dead on Christmas Eve, her family assumed that she had taken her own life. Now five years later, one of the emeralds that Rachel was wearing at the time of her death is discovered at a stonecutter’s house in Portland, Oregon. With his brother Simon under suspicion for Rachel’s murder and stealing the emeralds, Zeke and detective Sarah are under pressure to clear his name. But with troubles of their own and in need of a place to hide, the duo return to Zeke’s hometown where a spiritual force helps Sarah find another emerald… All the fingers are pointing to Zeke’s family; how far will they go to protect their secrets? And will Sarah uncover the killer before it’s too late? This book was previously published as NEPTUNE’S DAUGHTER Get ready for another gripping read from USA Today bestselling author of THE SILENT WOMAN! Readers LOVE Terry Lynn Thomas: ‘Intriguing and page-turning. ’ ‘I really enjoyed this fascinating historical thriller. ’ ‘an absorbing novel’ ‘a marvellous historical suspense that had me engrossed from the start. ’ ‘I read it in just one sitting. ’
About the Author (#ulink_93300362-63c5-575a-b07a-50d186214dda)
TERRY LYNN THOMAS grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, which explains her love of foggy beaches and Gothic mysteries. When her husband promised to buy Terry a horse and the time to write if she moved to Mississippi with him, she jumped at the chance. Although she had written several novels and screenplays prior to 2006, after she relocated to the South she set out to write in earnest and has never looked back.
Terry Lynn writes the Sarah Bennett Mysteries, set on the California coast during the 1940s, which feature a misunderstood medium in love with a spy. The Drowned Woman is a recipient of the IndieBRAG Medallion. She also writes the Cat Carlisle Mysteries, set in Britain during World War II. The first book in this series, The Silent Woman, came out in April 2018 and has since become a USA Today bestseller. When she’s not writing, you can find Terry Lynn riding her horse, walking in the woods with her dogs, or visiting old cemeteries in search of story ideas.
Praise for Terry Lynn Thomas (#ulink_4c29cd21-5bfa-581f-96ce-da42c19efe30)
‘Intriguing and page-turning’
‘I really enjoyed this fascinating historical thriller’
‘An absorbing novel’
‘A marvellous historical suspense that had me engrossed from the start’
‘I read it in one sitting’
‘A fabulous page turning, mildly paranormal whodunnit’
‘A good read, difficult to put down!’
‘Brilliant! Thoroughly enjoyable read’
‘I look forward to reading the next in the series’
‘A real page turner!’
Also by Terry Lynn Thomas (#ulink_de4c608b-025d-5256-905f-064eefa2fc0f)
The Silent Woman
The Family Secret
The House of Secrets
The Drowned Woman
TERRY LYNN THOMAS
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019
Copyright © Terry Lynn Thomas 2019
Terry Lynn Thomas asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008330743
E-book Edition © April 2019 ISBN: 9780008328887
Version: 2019-02-25
Table of Contents
Cover (#u6d49132a-0981-5a47-90cc-6d7e908d496c)
About the Author (#u9409c67c-ebe2-5929-a0c1-b0bc6fa9829e)
Praise for Terry Lynn Thomas (#u90196f44-b630-5255-a8e8-fce01a4980c2)
Also by Terry Lynn Thomas (#ub13570f7-6e27-50cf-903e-63c6352e9e5d)
Title page (#u35dbecfa-abd4-586e-9519-18ebeab20136)
Copyright (#ud7908a63-907f-551f-8fa4-121c71c1bea8)
Dedication (#u7f5bb469-ad44-5b13-aa2f-2fabb0ad278f)
Chapter 1 (#u6b26f1c0-5697-549c-bba9-810093c0b42b)
Chapter 2 (#ud3aa8a9d-1545-5824-9633-5d1e0e251738)
Chapter 3 (#ub0eb54c4-71b3-5638-b769-4227c51c7b47)
Chapter 4 (#uc9ecc503-0cda-57b1-855a-5996f29be189)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader … (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading … (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
In loving memory of Lillian Harper Tombaugh for instilling in me a love of all things Gothic and for her ability to make the ordinary come alive with magic.
Chapter 1 (#ulink_d73a1c8d-a888-5b37-bba9-9c54392a08c9)
June 10, 1943
Wade Connor’s blue Chevy was the only car on the street not covered with a fine patina of dust. I swore under my breath as I stepped off the bus, my document case in one hand, the meager groceries I scrounged with my ration coupons in the other, and headed toward home.
Hoping to slip up to our flat and avoid seeing Wade altogether, I climbed the steps that led to our entryway door and set my bags down, careful not to make too much noise as I reached for my keys. Zeke and I lived above our office, a spacious ground-floor storefront nestled against the hills of Sausalito. My desk and typewriter were tucked into a small office in the back, where I did the transcription work for my boss, Dr Matthew Geisler, who wrote textbooks on paranormal phenomena. Zeke didn’t have a title. Instead, he had Wade Connor. Wade worked for the FBI. Zeke worked for Wade on a freelance basis. From my perspective, Wade sent Zeke on secret operations, often putting Zeke in grave danger, and then took the credit for Zeke’s heroics. Wade’s voice met me as I stepped into the hallway.
‘Sarah needs to be told. And she needs a gun, so she can protect herself.’ I tiptoed to the door and pressed my ear against it.
‘She’ll never agree to carry a gun,’ Zeke said.
‘She will when she finds out what’s happened. And you’d better tell her. She’ll sense you’re keeping something from her, and then she’ll wind up in some sort of mess and compromise my entire operation. Be quiet. Someone’s there.’ The door burst open, and Wade stood in the doorjamb, his eyes ablaze. I raised my hands.
‘It’s just me.’
Zeke limped to the door. He smiled when he saw me. ‘Come in, love. We need to talk.’
I followed them into the office. Once we were all inside, Zeke locked the door and engaged two brand new deadbolts.
‘Extra locks?’
‘We have a situation.’
The ghost shimmered in the corner of the room, her eyes fixed on me. Wade and Zeke carried on, impervious to her.
‘Sarah, are you listening?’ Zeke asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. The ghost smiled and winked at me. I ignored her.
‘I want you both out of here.’ Wade barked out his orders. ‘Go upstairs and pack. Bring enough clothes to stay away for a month or two.’
I stood, ready to lash out at Wade, but one look at Zeke changed my mind. His brow was furrowed with worry. ‘What’s happened? Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘Millport,’ Zeke said. ‘I need to go home.’
‘And you’re not safe here,’ Wade piped in. ‘Zeke’s going to tell you all about it, once you are on your way.’ Wade peered between the blinds again, surveying the street below us, keeping his eyes riveted on the foot traffic as he spoke. ‘I’m sorry, Sarah. I don’t mean to be short. Zeke will explain everything. I want you two on the road in fifteen minutes. You’re in danger. Can you please just go pack?’
‘I started to pack for you, but I didn’t know what you’d want to bring. Your typewriter is loaded up already. I put the extra ribbons, ink, and a case of paper in the trunk, too. I’ll take those.’ Zeke nodded at the sack of groceries I had carried in. ‘We can bring them with us. No meat, I suppose?’
‘Not a scrap,’ I said. ‘Do we have gasoline coupons?’
‘I’ve taken care of that,’ Wade said.
‘Of course you have.’ I sighed and left the room.
‘Stay away from the windows,’ Wade called after me.
With a shaking hand, I unlocked the door to our upstairs flat, frightened now, thanks to Wade Connor. I loved our flat. The bay windows faced the water, angled just enough to the west to allow floods of afternoon sun to fill the room.
The ghost stood before the window now, her image stronger than it was downstairs. She looked like the type of woman who rode horses over tall hedges while perched in a tiny saddle, fearless and bold. Her hair shimmered with golden light. She wore an evening dress of cream silk. It fitted her body and flowed to the floor like liquid pearls.
‘Why have you come?’ I asked. Although I could see ghosts, most of the time I couldn’t hear them. I pointed to a scratch pad which sat on the table near the sofa. ‘Can you write your answers?’
She floated over to the tablet in that particular way of ghosts.
‘Good. I’m going to pack.’ I turned my back on her and headed down the hall toward our bedroom. Zeke’s suitcase sat on the floor. Mine lay open on the bed, ready to be filled with the clothes I would need. Something about Wade’s manner and the look on Zeke’s face struck a chord with me. I realized with a start that I had seen fear, not only in Zeke, but in Wade Connor as well. Urged on by this, I threw clothes into the suitcase without thinking or taking the time to fold them. I jammed the black Lanvin evening gown on top of the pile, not caring that the tiny pleats around the waistline would need to be ironed again – a tedious job that I loathed. I grabbed four sweaters and tossed them on top of the gown.
A blast of cold air on the back of my neck told me that my ghost had joined me. She stood by my small writing desk, holding the tablet that I had left for her to write on. When I moved close to her, she disappeared. Her writing was schoolroom perfect. I am Zeke’s sister-in-law, Rachel Caen. You must find the emeralds to discover who killed me.
Rachel had dumped all the sweaters I had packed onto the bed, and was now replacing them with cotton blouses and light-weight summer clothes. She folded the clothes and placed them in neat stacks inside my case. When everything was properly stowed, she snapped the latches in place with a resounding click. The smile she gave was a sad one. She pointed to the tablet on the table one more time before she disappeared. New handwriting had replaced her prior message. Be careful. And just like that, she was gone.
