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- Herausgeber: Valley Publishing Ltd.
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Digging up the dead isn’t the best way to lay ghosts to rest …
Anthropologist Jade Hansen had been touched by death once before. While in Haiti one year ago, she’d lost her unborn child, and the devastation nearly took her sanity in the time that followed. Getting back to work means facing the grief that’s all but destroyed her. Determined to be strong, she returns to Haiti with a mortuary team to recover the bodies of an American family from a mass grave, following a devastating earthquake.
Dane Chester is an independent contractor, who willingly puts his life on hold to help rebuild the sleepy town of Jacmel, after the natural disaster all but razed it. He’s staying with his sibling while Dane volunteers his services in the group effort, but finds himself put off by his brother’s pregnant wife and her relatives. Wanting to do good for those who lost so much from the quake creates a tug of war within him, given the unexpected family strife. Selfishly he wants nothing more than to go home, … until he meets Jade, who, at first sight, makes him realize what’s been missing in his own life for so long.
Jade’s mortuary team begins work, but, from the start, everything that can go wrong does. As anthropologists, they’ve all faced the very human horrors of situations like this before. But something else is at work at this mass grave site—something malevolent that none of them can explain—yet equally can’t shake the communal disquiet. Rather than laying her ghosts to rest where she suffered such loss, Jade finds herself confronting death all over again. This time her grief is mingled with an unnerving dose of terror—and this incredible man Dane, who unexpectedly awakens her heart to love again, is somehow right in the middle of it all.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Books in This Series
About This Book
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About Haunted by Death
Sneak Peek from Haunted by Death
About Simon Says… HIDE
Sneak Peek from Simon Says… HIDE
Complimentary Download
Author’s Note
Try a Free Cozy Mystery Now!
About the Author
Copyright Page
Books in This Series
By Death Series
Touched by Death
Haunted by Death
Chilled by Death
By Death Books 1–3
About This Book
Digging up the dead isn’t the best way to lay ghosts to rest …
Anthropologist Jade Hansen had been touched by death once before. While in Haiti one year ago, she’d lost her unborn child, and the devastation nearly took her sanity in the time that followed. Getting back to work means facing the grief that’s all but destroyed her. Determined to be strong, she returns to Haiti with a mortuary team to recover the bodies of an American family from a mass grave, following a devastating earthquake.
Dane Chester is an independent contractor, who willingly puts his life on hold to help rebuild the sleepy town of Jacmel, after the natural disaster all but razed it. He’s staying with his sibling while Dane volunteers his services in the group effort, but finds himself put off by his brother’s pregnant wife and her relatives. Wanting to do good for those who lost so much from the quake creates a tug of war within him, given the unexpected family strife. Selfishly he wants nothing more than to go home, … until he meets Jade, who, at first sight, makes him realize what’s been missing in his own life for so long.
Jade’s mortuary team begins work, but, from the start, everything that can go wrong does. As anthropologists, they’ve all faced the very human horrors of situations like this before. But something else is at work at this mass grave site—something malevolent that none of them can explain—yet equally can’t shake the communal disquiet. Rather than laying her ghosts to rest where she suffered such loss, Jade finds herself confronting death all over again. This time her grief is mingled with an unnerving dose of terror—and this incredible man Dane, who unexpectedly awakens her heart to love again, is somehow right in the middle of it all.
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Prologue
In perfect symphony the clouds swayed in the sky, wrapping the moon in protective cotton wool, as the ground shook and trembled beneath the sleepy town of Jacmel in the south of Haiti.
Mother Nature growled and raged, over and over again.
As if she knew the secrets long kept hidden in the hills behind the small town.
As if she knew about the injustices done.
As if she knew this had to stop.
She gave one last mighty shove, and the earth cracked open.
Trees toppled, their roots ripped from the ground in hapless destruction. Large rocks tumbled, as their foundations were wiped out from below. Everything fell to the force of Mother Nature—at long last exposing old secrets to the light.
When the clouds moved from their protective stance, the moon glared upon the result of Mother Nature’s game of fifty-two-card pickup with the Devil. The lunar light shone on bones long picked clean—now newly exposed to the sky.
The ground undulated one last time. The surrounding hillside shuddered, sending a light dusting of earth and rock to rebury the gruesome evidence.
As if the sins of man were too much for even the moon to see.
*
Five days later, a tractor with a bucket on the front—hastily called into service—groaned, as it carried yet another load of the town’s dead to a large grave. Herman, the tractor driver, was beyond pain and grief and death. He focused on the gritty details of plain survival. Five days of heat and exposure hadn’t been kind to the dead—or to the living. Survival had become a grim business, and rotting bodies needed to be buried, or disease would crush them further. So many dead. No money. No time. No help.
No choice.
His neighbor, John, lifted the last small corpse from the dump truck’s deposit on the ground to the loader’s bucket. He pulled off one work glove, straightened the makeshift mask tied around his mouth and nose, and shouted, “Good to go!”
Herman popped the gear shift forward, then swore and prayed that Bertha would survive the job given her. He trundled forward. “Come on, girl.” He patted the stick shift in his hand. “I need you to get it done. If you quit on me, I ain’t gonna make it through this.” And that was no joke. He knew for damn sure that he wouldn’t if ol’ Bertha didn’t. Bad business this. He had respect for the dead. Every one of his family and friends had received a proper send-off, a decent burial—as was fitting. Until this earthquake.
Pain clutched his heart and squeezed. So many dead.
He’d lost his wife, one son, and two grandkids this last week. Sex and age hadn’t mattered here. Mother Nature hadn’t cared. She’d wiped them all out.
John, the only other person who’d stepped up to help, had been lucky. His young wife and her family had survived the devastation. Living out of town had helped. That also contributed to his motivation to help out. This mass grave butted against his wife’s family’s land, so it made sense for John to ensure this grave was closed over, right and proper.
Many people could be trekking here on All Souls’ Day, as families came to honor their dead. Then again, complete families had been buried together. There might not be anyone left to mourn.
Herman would come and visit. Too many people remained here to forget.
*
Herman tugged at the old T-shirt tied around his nose and mouth, his sun-blackened skin blending with the poor light. Nothing kept the smell out. He’d already gone through a half-dozen pairs of gloves. But, without the makeshift bandanna, each breath caught in his chest, making him gag. His clothes would have to be burned after this. No way to rid them of the smell of death.
Bertha struggled forward. Darkness hid the evidence of what they were doing. What he’d done. He only hoped he wouldn’t have too many more loads to haul.
In the aftermath of the earthquake, everyone had been numb, in shock, or frozen with grief. No one could make decisions. No military arrived to take care of the problem. The government buildings and staff had been as decimated as the rest of the population.
Herman refused to leave his people lying exposed like that. Determined to do what he could, he’d taken command and had done something. Something so awful that he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing the stares of the dead—blaming him.
So far, close to sixty people had gone into this pit. The natural depression, a ready-made burial spot, was a godsend to the desperate survivors, a fast answer to the bloated dead rotting on the sidewalks. Herman didn’t know how many more were to come, maybe hundreds. Later, much later, if someone cared, they could open this mass grave and do the right thing. But not now. Now they had to get on with the business of survival.
Mother Nature was a bitch.
Chapter 1
One Year Later …
Jade Hansen twisted in her sleep at her Seattle, Washington, apartment, while a nightmare across the ocean took over her. Her sweaty panicked body searched for a way out of the endless nightmare of bloated bodies, desperate people, and cries for help—pleas that would never get answered. She turned in the fog as one more person, caught among the fallen rocks, cried out to her. Jade came face-to-face with a woman—blood congealed in her hair and streaked down the side of her face, a chunk of concrete crushing her legs. She begged for Jade to find her son.
Screaming, Jade took off to the safety of the tent, the tent filled with the dead … and the living who searched for their families.
She couldn’t help them all.
She couldn’t help any of them.
She couldn’t even help herself.
With tears streaming down her face, Jade woke in a panic, as if the demons of her nightmare had followed her into the present.
Shuddering, she recognized the hanging lamp overhead as the one in her apartment. The Aztec print couch she’d fallen asleep on was hers, a gift from her brother. And she finally understood that the evening’s in-depth television coverage of a recent small earthquake in Haiti had been the trigger for her nightmare.
Jade curled into a ball, pulling her throw higher up on her neck. She winced at the images still flashing on the news. Another earthquake in Haiti. Only a little one this time. Not that the size mattered. The memories of her one and only humanitarian trip to that area, after the major earthquake almost one year ago, had etched themselves permanently into her brain. A horrible time, a praying-on-your-knees-for-help kind of horrible time. In Haiti, nightmares had destroyed her sleep. The shortage of food for those suffering had destroyed her appetite.
She’d lost weight over there, but nothing compared to the pounds that had slipped off after her return home. Sure, that had been almost one year ago too. It didn’t matter. With the nightmare fresh in her mind, it felt like only days.
So much pain and suffering. So much torment. She couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t even begin to make it right. There’d been nothing she could do to help—or so little relative to the scope of the problem that it might as well have been nothing. If she’d been offered a ride out of that hell on any given day, she would have jumped over her colleagues to grab it.
She wasn’t proud of that.
In fact, it made her feel small and ashamed. Her colleagues had done so much better.
She’d wanted to be better. She’d tried to be better.
She’d failed. Failed her colleagues. The victims. And herself.
The memories still haunted her.
She had had her nice safe lab job in Seattle. She drove to work every day in a nice car and returned home every night to her clean, safe apartment with running water, heat, and electricity. All the comforts denied the Haitians still struggling through the devastation from twelve months ago.
After she’d locked her front door behind her that first day home, the tears had started to pour. It seemed she’d been crying ever since.
Her life had gone from bad to worse for a while, before she’d picked herself up—somewhat.
And now another earthquake.
If a small one like that triggered Jade’s memories, what was the reality doing to all those poor people still living the horror?
Her phone rang.
She ignored it.
It wouldn’t quit. Finally she couldn’t stand it, so picked up her cell. She didn’t even bother to check the caller ID. Duncan called every night at nine. “I’m fine, Duncan.”
“Hey, kitten.” Her brother’s pet name for her made her smile, as he’d probably intended. She used to be like him. Upbeat, funny, and carefree. Until life had dumped her on her ass at the top of the slide and had given her a hard kick downhill. She wasn’t sure she’d hit bottom now either.
“I’ve got a job proposition for you.”
His cheerful voice made her want to smile. The job proposition didn’t. “I don’t want to hear it.”
He laughed, a buoyant sound that rang around the room. He never failed to raise her spirits. The effect just didn’t hang around after his calls. “Maybe you don’t, but maybe you do. How will you know if you don’t hear it? It’s a good one.”
His wheedling tone made her smile in spite of her horrible mood. “Not if I don’t want to hear it.”
“You don’t know what you want.”
Jade groaned. “If I don’t know, then how do you?”
His laughter pealed again.
She shook her head and felt the lightness—the joyful spirit that was her brother—ease the ache in her soul. “I know you keep trying to save me, Duncan, but I’m fine.”
The laughter and joy cut off suddenly. Duncan’s voice, sober and sad, whispered, “No. No, you’re not.”
Tears choked her. She rubbed her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, damn it. Not tonight. Not again tonight.
“This has to stop, Jade. You’ll collapse, and I don’t want that to happen.” Love slipped through her phone, making it harder to hold back the tears. Jade didn’t trust herself to speak. She sniffled ever-so-slightly.
“I know you’re hurting inside. I feel it, and I hurt for you.”
“I know,” she whispered, starting to shake, knowing she had to stop—only she didn’t know how. And once again couldn’t deal with it. “Look. I’m really tired. I need to get to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She didn’t give him a chance to say goodbye and disconnected instead. And the tears rolled. Hot and steady, they streamed down her cheeks. She snuggled back into the couch and let them run.
The point of stopping them was long gone. Besides, she no longer knew how.
*
“Hey, Dane, that guy phoned again,” John called out.
“Yeah, which guy?” Dane walked over to stand beside his stepbrother, who’d stopped by the hospital construction site for a visit.
“The guy about the grave,” John said.
Dane tugged off his hard hat to wipe the sweat running down his forehead. Christ, it was hot and humid here in Haiti. He surveyed the construction site in front of them. Not bad at all. They were ahead of schedule, but completion of the new wing was still months away. Jacmel hadn’t recovered from the last big earthquake, and, with smaller ones continually causing setbacks, the country would be years getting back on its feet.
It had taken weeks to convince John to let Dane come over after the big quake. When he’d realized how badly in need the town was, Dane had stepped in to help. John’s small engine repair shop had been decimated in one of the smaller, more recent earthquakes, yet he refused to let Dane repair it. John had said he wanted to fix things himself.
John added, “Remember? They called before and want to open the mass grave to retrieve some guy’s family?”
Dane glanced at his brother. Only the two of them were left in the family. Both stubborn. Independent. And family oriented. It had only taken that one phone call with something odd in John’s voice to catch Dane’s attention. He’d put his Seattle construction business in the hands of his capable foreman, an old school friend, and, without his brother’s invite, Dane had flown to Haiti two days later. That had been months ago.
Shielding his eyes from the hot sun, Dane said, “I have to admit. The never-ending sunshine and warm, dry weather is hardly a hardship. Of course we haven’t hit the humid summer season yet.”
“See? Isn’t this much better than the wet misery of the coast? Seattle is probably still buried in snow—even in March.” John grinned, with satisfaction.
Dane couldn’t argue that. His foreman had been complaining of just that in their last phone call. “Not everyone hates the rain like you do.”
“Come on. Admit it.” John smacked Dane’s shoulder. A cloud of dust rose, making him step back hurriedly. “You love it here.”
“I love visiting you, and, of course, I adore Tasha.” Dane grinned over his white lie. Tasha obviously adored his brother, so that was good enough for Dane. It had, after all, been the call of family that had brought Dane here.
John had a terrible history with relationships. His long-time high school sweetheart had walked out the door of her home one day, just weeks before graduation, and had never returned. A few years later, John had married the witchy Elise. That marriage had been a walking disaster right from the wedding reception. Dane couldn’t stand the woman, and the feeling had been mutual. John was just a big teddy bear, who attracted unscrupulous people.
Unfortunately Elise died in a car crash.
After that fiasco, John disappeared for years, before finally setting up housekeeping with Tasha in Haiti. Dane’s antennae went off at that, and, given John’s past, Dane could be forgiven for worrying about his brother. Only John appeared to have stabilized, flourishing even. Dane had been delighted.
The major earthquake had changed all that, sending John back into the same morose, angry man as before. So Dane was happy to see the joking John appear at times.
“Hey, are you in there?”
Dane started.
John smirked at him, a sign his lighthearted kid brother was showing through the more cynical angry one of recent years. “What’s the matter? Felice getting to you?”
Heat washed over Dane’s neck and face. Felice was too hot, too willing, and way too young. She was also the daughter of one of Tasha’s friends who’d visited yesterday. He didn’t know the specific laws in Haiti relating to that sort of thing. Still, he was pretty damn sure he’d get jail time back home, and that was deterrent enough for him. “She needs to be locked away for a few years.”
“Not here. Girls her age are often married and pregnant.” John added thoughtfully, “And not likely in that order.”
Dane shook his head. “As long as it’s not to me.”
John changed the subject abruptly. “What should I do about the call? … About this guy’s request for help at the mass grave site? Sounds crazy to me.”
Easily following the lightning shift of his brother’s mind, Dane asked, “What’s to do? He’s a grieving man. His request isn’t unreasonable. And it’s done all the time.”
John visibly shuddered. “I never expected to feel so strongly about it, but, after that earthquake last year? … I don’t know, Dane. I saw too much death. More than I should have—more than anyone should have. It seems wrong to dig up those poor earthquake victims again.”
“You’ve been living here too long. Some weird Haitian beliefs are rubbing off on you.”
John snickered, making Dane laugh. “Or not long enough. According to Tasha, Mother Earth claimed them, and she won’t be happy if she’s forced to give them up again.”
With a sigh of disgust, Dane said, “That’s crazy talk. This guy lost his family. He wants to take the three of them home to Seattle and to bury them properly. He needs closure. That’s all. What’s so wrong about that?”
John kicked a stray rock in the dirt. “I don’t know that anything is wrong with it. I guess if it were me and mine, I’d want to take them home too. However, it’s a mass grave. There are other bodies to consider, other families who will be hurt.”
“Really?” Dane stared at him. “Like how mass?”
John shot him a look, before grimacing and staring off to the horizon. “I stopped counting at sixty. We did what we had to do. The dead? … They were everywhere. Herman, our old neighbor, used his front loader to transport them. … Christ, it was bad.”
Dane scrunched his face.
John rushed to explain. “I saw children playing beside bloated bodies. They’d become dulled to them because there were so many. Oh, don’t blame the children. They stayed close to the people they knew because they had no one else. That a dead mother or sibling lay within a few feet didn’t seem to matter. Even dead, they were a comfort.”
Dane closed his eyes, as terrible images flooded his mind. He couldn’t imagine the horror. “I wasn’t judging. I just can’t envision what you went through. And to think of children sitting there, so lost and alone? … Well, … it’s a terrible thought.”
Shadows darkened John’s brown eyes.
Dane was sorry for what John had been through. “That’s the thing about family.” Dane patted John on the shoulder and noticed his brother cringe.
“So you think this guy should be allowed to come in and remove his kin?” John wasn’t backing away from this one.
“I don’t have any say in this. I wasn’t aware that you did either. I’m sure this man has already gone through the authorities. I’d suggest that you accept that this will happen, whether you want it to or not. The team of specialists should be here soon. When they arrive, be nice to them. Helpful. They will probably be there for a day or two, a week or two max. Then they’ll be gone, leaving the others to rest in peace.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I know. Other people’s loved ones are in that grave. Maybe someone should suggest that all the victims be identified.” Dane pursed his lips and nodded his head, pleased with his idea. “Reburied properly. This guy has money. Maybe some of it should be put toward assisting the community to help them deal with the disaster. Granted, that will take more time.”
John shook his head. “You don’t understand the full scope of the problem here. Hundreds of bodies could be there. We just kept putting them in, then piling dirt and rocks on top to ensure they weren’t disturbed. We probably went overboard on that part.”
Dane blanched. “Hundreds?” He swallowed heavily. “Okay, so maybe the team will need a little longer. Still, something could be done for the other remains.” Dane winced. “Or at least for the remains they can find and identify, while they search for the ones they are shipping back to Seattle.”
John stared at him and gulped. “That’s not helping.”
“Yeah. I know. Sorry about that.”
The two men stared at the half-completed hospital building in front of them. Dane took an involuntary step back. Right now the damn thing resembled a skeleton, reaching out of the ground.
Chapter 2
Jade groaned and closed her eyes. A Saturday, and still she’d awakened early. What was the point of having a morning to sleep in if her body didn’t get the memo? Sometimes life just sucked.
Surprisingly she drifted back to sleep.
The phone woke her hours later. She stretched out an arm, trying to find her cell, all without having to disturb her comfortable position. “Hello,” she mumbled.
“Jade, I let you push me off last night but not today.” Duncan spoke hurriedly. “This guy with the job wants an answer, and he wants one now. It’s important. Are you awake?”
Jade huddled deeper under the covers. “No. I don’t want to hear it. Leave me alone.”
“Won’t happen. I’m coming over,” he said firmly. “Get up and have a shower. I’ll bring the coffee. Be there in twenty.” The call cut off.
Jade rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling. What the hell?
Twenty minutes later, she slipped on socks, just as the doorbell rang. Opening the door, hairbrush in hand, she frowned. Her brother wasn’t alone.
A thin man of average height and wearing coke-bottle-thick glasses stood beside Duncan. He had an overstuffed folder in his hands.
Damn it. She glared at her brother, snagged one of the coffee cups out of his hand and turned her back on them.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s always grumpy in the morning.” Duncan motioned the stranger inside. “This is Tony Maholland. Tony, my sister, Jade.”
Jade shot her brother an irritated look. Good manners dictated she at least smile politely at the man standing awkwardly behind Duncan. Exasperated, she said, “Oh, come in and sit down, for heaven’s sake. You’re giving me a kink in my neck.”
“Jade, be nice. Good thing I warned Tony about you.”
“Why?” she shot back, leading the way to the small kitchen. “You aren’t being nice to me.”
Duncan pulled out a chair for Tony, who stood uncomfortably beside them. He twisted a second one around and sat on it backward to face her. “Everything I do is because I love you. We don’t always know what we need in life, and sometimes loving someone means making the hard choices for them.”
She sat with a thump, glared at him, her instincts on high alert. She wouldn’t like what was coming. Duncan never backed away from a fight, and he’d always been the kind of brother to lead her down the right path—whether she wanted to go there or not.
“Jade, I need to talk to you. And I need you to listen.”
“I don’t think I want to.”
Compassion filled his eyes, and her brother leaned toward her. Instinctively she pulled back slightly. Wary. Duncan was a counselor—helping people was his passion. He couldn’t help himself. She loved him but hated when all that do-gooder energy was turned her way.
“I want you to return to Haiti. And Tony will help you get there.”
Jade’s heart dropped, her stomach clenched, and tears welled in her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t go back.”
“I’ll even go there with you.”
Wordless, Jade stared at her beloved brother. He would too. She knew he’d drop everything to help her get through this.
He placed his hand on her knee and squeezed gently. “You have to deal with this. Only then can you move on.”
“Haiti? But that’s where it all started.” She stared down at her clenched fists. How did going back make any sense?
Duncan caught and held her hands in his. “I know.”
His words, so simple and so powerful. And so not helpful.
“Excuse me.” Tony leaned forward, his gaze shifting between the two of them. “Duncan, I can see this is personal, and I can’t begin to understand what’s really going on here, but I’m not sure she’s the right person for the job. We need someone who can handle themselves down there—not people carrying personal baggage.”
Jade agreed with a slight nod.
Duncan, however, grinned at the stranger. “Well put, Tony. However, remember this. Everyone has baggage. At least with my sister, you will know up front what the problem is. So this is the scoop. My sister went down to Haiti as a part of the Disaster Mortuary Operations Response Team. She was there precisely three weeks. She endured physical attacks on her person, unbelievable emotional trauma due to the massive number of deaths she had to deal with, and her spirit took a major hit. The experience changed her. It was as if she’d been touched by Death himself.”
With an apologetic look at Jade, Duncan continued. “She was pregnant at the time. When she came home, her fiancé couldn’t deal, and he bolted. About three weeks after his departure, she lost the baby.”
Jade winced. Duncan hadn’t said anything wrong; he hadn’t exaggerated or minimized the truth. However, laid bare like that, even she could see how, although life had certainly been shitty, it was something she should have and still could recover from.
If she cared to.
Her soul was weary. That was close to explaining the way she felt. She’d been unprepared for the horror and devastation in Haiti. The need and desperation of the people. Her inability to fix … any of it.
The normalcy of her existence after her return home had only amplified it. Her guilt. Her failure. Her life.
“She’s always a professional. That won’t be an issue. Haiti, itself, wasn’t the problem. It just started the problem. She has to face Haiti, before her depression declines into something more than she can deal with. Besides, she’s got the perfect skill set and experience, as you well know. Plus, she’s available on short notice.”
Depression? She stared at Duncan, her attention snagging on that one word. That was it. One simple word? Then she remembered a period in Duncan’s life, just after their father had died. She’d been away in college several years by that time, buffered from the emotional element, but Duncan had been there, taking the full blast of guilt from their father’s suicide.
“Is that what you felt?” She hadn’t known. Not really. How could she have? To understand such darkness, such sadness in others, she had to experience these emotions first herself. Shit. So typical. Was everyone blind to what didn’t immediately affect them? Duncan had had it hard then too, and she hadn’t noticed.
“Oh yes. The thing is, sis, you can honor the grief you feel for the loss of your child and for the horror you felt for all those people in Haiti, but you can’t let this beat you. You need to pick yourself up and to grab hold of the reins of your life. Reacting to a stimulus is one thing—wallowing is another thing entirely. When you know what you’re doing and choose to do nothing, then …” He sat back, his gaze warm and caring. “Whereas Tony is offering you a chance to step up and out of this place … and to move forward.”
Tony leaned forward. “Uh, maybe I’m offering this chance.”
Duncan and Jade ignored him.
Jade traveled from one realization to another, as they slid through her, lighting all the dark places she’d clung to in her mind. Her grief was real and was valid. Her distress was also justified. She had a right to feel the way she did. Validation was empowering. Her anger at her fiancé wasn’t something she had a problem honoring. … Still, not doing something about this hollowness inside? … Duncan was right.
That was not acceptable.
She sat back, as understanding dawned. “And—now that I do know, … and don’t do anything about it—it’s self-pity?”
He grinned, pride and love shining at her. “Exactly. And now that you do know, you can’t continue on the same path. And by your own words …”
She winced, hearing her voice from past conversations. I don’t do self-pity. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back. “Not fair. I don’t know that I can do Haiti again.”
“Maybe this time you could see the healing. The people who have turned their lives around and moved on. You could find the positive and let that heal you too.”
She groaned. “You’re so into that New Age mumbo jumbo.”
“It’s me.”
She couldn’t argue that. Abruptly she turned to face Tony. “What’s the job?”
Surprised, and looking a little disturbed, he answered, “My client wants to retrieve three members of his family from a mass grave and bring them home. The team leader on the project is Dr. Bruce McLeod.”
“Mass grave?” That didn’t bother her. She’d done those before. It was true; she knew she handled death well. She just didn’t handle the people dying part so well—especially on a large scale. “How mass?”
He peered over the rim of his glasses. “We have it on good authority that close to one hundred people are buried in a grave outside of Jacmel.”
Jacmel. She racked her head for the little geographical information she’d allowed to rattle around inside. The opposite side of Port-au-Prince, where she’d been last time. Where her life had been flattened. “Is his family Haitian?”
Tony tilted his head, a curious look on his face. “Yes. Does it matter?”
“No. Identification would be easier if we’re looking for three Caucasians in a mix of dark-haired Haitians, for example. After a year, hair will likely still be attached, making identification easier.”
“My understanding is that the grave contains mostly locals, with a few tourists who were there at the time.”
She nodded. She liked the idea of doing something to help someone. This could work. Close to—but not the same as—what she’d been through before. She’d been stronger going into it back then. But she’d also been unprepared. She’d be neither of those things this time. “How long?”
“As long as it takes to get the job done. My client isn’t worried about the cost, within reason, and he’s willing to have the other bodies in the grave identified and processed along with his family. The team will leave the information with whatever officials are in place to help identify those victims. The local families will then have the choice of what to do.”
“That’s generous. What about reburial of the others for the families with no money?”
Tony grimaced. “This is obviously a sensitive issue, and we’re working toward a happy resolution for everyone. It may not be possible to identify everyone, and it’s quite possible that many, if not all, of those people will be reburied in the same grave. And though he’s generous, the expenditures must fit in his budget.”
Duncan leaned back and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his faded jeans. “Whew. That’ll be some job.”
Shooting him a mocking look, Jade asked, “Still willing to come with me?”
He brightened. “Absolutely. I can travel and socialize, while you work.”
Her leg shot out and connected with his ankle.
“Hey, I was just kidding.” He shifted out of the way, sending her an injured look.
The happy relief in his eyes made her realize just how much he had been hoping she’d come around to his way of thinking. “You’d better be.”
“If I could give you a few more details,” Tony interrupted. “You’ll leave in one week. The plan is to give it three months and reassess. We’ve been assured this is a decent time frame for our needs. Some adjustments may come down the road, depending on the progress.” He glanced at his notebook. “Of course, … as I said, a budget is in place. So …” He narrowed his gaze at her. “We’ll work out many of the details over there.”
“I have a job here. Remember? I’d have to give notice, … not to mention I’d have no job when I return home.” She frowned. She couldn’t walk out on her boss on such short notice like that. Neither could she afford to be jobless when she returned in three months. Relief swept through her. No way she could go. She opened her mouth to say just that, when Duncan spoke first.
“Now don’t get mad, Jade. However, I’ve spoken with Gerard already, after Tony and I discussed the issue in greater depth.”
“You what?” Her voice came out as an incredulous squeak. “You called my boss? Are you nuts? I’m lucky he didn’t fire me yesterday.”
Duncan grinned. “On the contrary. And don’t forget. He and I go way back. He actually liked the idea. He thought this placement might just do the trick for you.”
Now her astonishment turned to anger. Like a too-old rubber band, her emotions seemed to stretch thin and snap easily. “I don’t like you talking about me behind my back.”
“Then don’t act in such a way that the people who care about you feel they need to get involved secretly.”
“Whatever.” She shot him a fulminating look. Why did big brothers only come in arrogant, high-handed models? Her anger flowed, until he spoke again.
“He cares, and so do I. The bottom line is, you can leave for three months, and your job will be here when you get back.”
Her protests died on her tongue. She was too weary to continue the fight. A fight she knew he’d win. Her brother did love her. It was hard to argue with her self-proclaimed savior. Besides, he was right. She couldn’t continue on the same self-destructive path. Someone had to do something.
That someone had been him.
Now it was up to her.
*
Dane walked toward the main house, tucking his T-shirt into faded jeans, admiring the play of the sun on the bright trumpet-like flowers bouncing in the breeze. Haiti had a lot to offer. At least this area. The countryside was green and lush, the rolling hills and white beaches some of the nicest he’d ever seen. The people were wholesome and strong in faith, even after the disasters they’d faced. He’d loved his time here.
It was coming to an end; he knew that. His future didn’t lie here. He knew he’d wake up one day and know it was time to go home. He hoped it would be after the birth of his niece or nephew.
“Aren’t you up early today?” His brother’s voice came from the vicinity of the patio.
“Look who’s talking.” Dane grinned at his brother, unshaven and tousled, huddling over a large mug of coffee. “Bad night?”
“Tasha said the baby was playing soccer with her bladder all night. She must have gotten out of bed a dozen times.”
Dane barely held in his laughter. “Ah, the joys of impending fatherhood.” He walked toward the kitchen door. “Did you leave any coffee in the pot?”
“I left some. I don’t know that Tasha did.”
Dane grimaced. Tasha was pretty reasonable most of the time, but he’d been witness to a few of her I’m pregnant, don’t mess with me moments. And they seemed to be more frequent now. He stuck his head inside first, gauged the small room to be empty, and strode over to the coffeepot, where he quickly grabbed a cupful and made a fast exit.
Back outside, his brother chuckled. “Made it, I see. She’s gone back to bed anyway, so I imagine you’re safe enough.”
“You could have told me that before I went in there, thinking I was risking my life.” Dane pulled over the second wooden chair and sat down to enjoy the morning.
“Nah, if I have to risk my life, you might as well too.”
“There’s a brother for you.” The two sat in companionable silence. Dane marveled at a location where the weather every day remained a comfortable seventy-five to eighty degrees. He knew it fluctuated sometimes, but, during his stay, it had been remarkably consistent.
Suddenly Tasha stormed outside, the door slamming behind her. Dane took one look at the building fury on her face, blinked, and turned slightly away. John would have to deal with this one.
“They can’t come. You tell them that they can’t do this. It ain’t right.” She shifted into a spat of guttural Creole, making Dane grateful for his less-than-rudimentary understanding of the language.
John closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and faced his Haitian wife, while Dane looked on. “Now, honey. We’ve been over this. Just because I say they can’t come won’t stop them.”
“Why not? That property is ours.”
“No, it’s not.” John’s weary voice went over ground that he had obviously covered many times.
Dane took a sip of coffee and tried not to show any interest. Tasha’s black hair stood on end; her face was puffy, her dark skin splotchy. Her large belly, covered by an old stretched-out T-shirt that hung low, covered the bulk of the goofy boxer shorts she wore. Dane had been around other pregnant women, just none that reacted like Tasha. The longer he stayed, the more he worried about his sister-in-law’s mental and emotional health. John never seemed to notice. Love had to be blind.
“Honey, I’ve told you before. That land borders the family land, but it’s not ours.”
“It’s land we’ve used since forever. It should be ours.” She pouted and collapsed on the arm of his chair beside him, the tempest over for now. “We think of it as ours.”
John grinned and tugged her closer. “Except it isn’t. I know you think it’s wrong. However, you might want to try to see their point of view for a moment. If that were your family thrown into a large pit in another country, wouldn’t you want to bring them home? Have a place where you could visit them? Talk to them? Grieve for them?”
She frowned. “I understand that. I’m not heartless. I feel sorry for the family. … I do. What about all the other people buried there though? Some of them could be friends. Family. I don’t know who’s buried there. I do know it’s bad luck to wake the dead. We need to honor their souls and let them rest.”
“Maybe we can do something for the other people too. And no one is talking about waking the dead. We’re hoping to give the dead—and the living—peace. We’ve gone over this. It’s in progress, and we can’t stop it.”
“I still want to.”
Dane buried his smile in his thick ceramic mug. She sounded more like a truculent child now. He could see her point, but his brother was right. The process had already started. By this time next week, the grave would be open.
She’d see then. Nothing bad would come of this.
Chapter 3
The heat hit her first. Jade had forgotten how strong and heavy the air smelled. Being March, the humidity shouldn’t be bad until they were almost finished with the job here. Jade stepped out of the airport in Port-au-Prince and walked the tarmac toward the waiting vehicles. Now she almost wished her brother was beside her, but she had arrived with the rest of the team. So Duncan and she had both decided it would be better if he came in a month or so.
She took a deep breath. Christ. She was really here.
The team consisted of seven members. A smallish-enough group to get to know but big enough to get the job done.
Besides Bruce, the leader, and Jade herself, there was Dr. Mike, a forensic anthropologist, but with more degrees than she had herself. Plus Meg Pearce, who had some social anthropology degree and a psychology degree, if Jade remembered correctly. Two other men—Stephen and Wilson—would double as computer nerds and would work at the grave site. A third female rounded out the group, Susan, but Jade had forgotten the details on her.
It wouldn’t take long to get to know each other, Jade hoped. Meeting new people wasn’t normally an issue for her, but this last year of hermit living hadn’t been productive in that sense. She was nervous. And that was stupid. She was good at what she did. She wanted to help on this project. She could do this.
And she’d almost convinced herself.
Taking several deep breaths, she allowed herself to really look at the area. The last time she’d flown in with the army. She’d been whisked in and whisked out and had worked most of the time behind tight security. This time the team had taken a commercial flight. When they landed, no army, no police—no security of any kind—met them.
Intense blue skies smiled down on her. She almost believed everything would be all right.
Almost.
Her gaze wandered the surrounding areas, as her team made their way to the rental vehicles. Some things hadn’t changed. Collapsed buildings still dotted the terrain; abandoned vehicles had been dragged off the main roads to clog fields and side roads. The biggest differences were the lack of bodies decorating the landscape and the roads were now passable.
It took a good ten minutes—with her gaze darting from side to side, searching for bodies and hoping not to find them—before Jade finally believed that death wouldn’t plague her every step. She breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the almost unbearable tension draining from her system.
Haiti was obviously in recovery mode.
Thank God.
They planned to stay outside of the city center for the night to wait for gear, supplies, and mainly the paperwork. They would continue on to Jacmel in the morning.
“Come on, Jade. Stop gawking. We’ll get time to sightsee later.” Meg, one of the forensic anthropologists on the team, grinned at her. Tall, slim, and energetic, Meg’s initial friendliness had enfolded Jade, easing the uncertainty of her decision.
Meg waved toward the three SUVs leased for the duration of the job. The team climbed into the vehicles and, within an hour, were booked in at a small and homey hotel. It appeared to have survived the earthquake unscathed. Complete streets were ripped apart in other parts of the city. Some portions were buried under collapsed buildings while others were perfect. So much of the city had been leveled. but there were pockets, like around the hotel, that appeared untouched.
The tent cities were new. The garbage lining the streets, the alleys, the sidewalks still remained the same. It was as if many people were stuck in a time warp, unable to move forward and to leave the disaster behind.
Mother Nature had a hit-and-miss hate thing going on.
After dinner, Meg and Jade stood outside the hotel and surveyed the streets for signs of progress. Stores were open, doing a brisk business. Port-au-Prince had been a thriving metropolis at one time. Jade didn’t think recovery had restored that level of economic progress and stability. Poverty had always been a major part of life here. It looked to be the same. Not that she’d spent any time sightseeing on her last trip. There’d been nothing nice to see back then.
“Wow. Looks like the area still needs time to recover economically. Although I guess it’s better than it was a year ago.” Meg sat on the stone fence, her long jean-clad legs swinging loose. She ran a hand through her short brunette hair. She glanced over at Jade. “Are you ready for this?”
“Ready for what?” Jade asked absentmindedly, her focus on the surrounding scene, so similar and yet so different from before. She leaned against the stone fence and looked at her colleague.
“This life without electronics—although I did bring my phone. So, if you ever wanted to make a call, let me know.”
“And I brought my laptop, so ditto,” Jade added.
Meg nodded. “So, are you ready for the job we’re here to do? It’s not likely to be much fun.” Meg pointed to the wreckage of cars heaped off to one side, surrounded by tall weeds. “I didn’t expect to see this level of refuse strewn about. It’s easy to be unaware of what’s required in a country’s recovery, unless you’re actually on location.”
“True enough. No, the job isn’t likely to be much fun, but it’ll be meaningful.” Jade smiled, her heart lighter already. Her words had been instinctive, coming from her heart. The job had purpose, not as necessary for the masses as her previous one to Haiti, but still important. And not the same urgency or panic to this second visit. That helped to keep Jade calm and focused.
“Come on. We need to go to bed, if we want to get an early start.”
They wandered into the hotel, saying good night to the other team members. At their rooms, Jade was pleasantly surprised to see she had a room to herself. Three women and four men were on the team. The others seemed normal and upbeat; Jade found herself relaxing and looking forward to her time here.
She said good night to Meg and opened her door. A maid in the hallway glanced at her shyly and handed over several towels.
Jade really was back in Haiti—where it all began.
*
Morning dawned bright and sunny. Jade opened her eyes, staring at the same ceiling she’d stared at for over half the night. A heavy knock sounded on her door, followed by a bright, cheerful Meg calling out, “Rise and shine. It’s a whole new day. We’re pulling out in an hour. Get moving, and you’ll have time for a shower and food. Otherwise you’ll have to choose.”
Jade heard her new friend bouncing down the stairs. At least one of them was in a good mood. Still, Meg’s excitement was infectious. Twenty minutes later, after a fast shower and dressing, Jade poured coffee for herself in the small dining room. The rest of the team was boisterous and chewing through their meals.
“Good morning, Jade. Did you sleep well? Lovely rooms, aren’t they?” Dr. Mike Chandler smiled at her, as he served himself fluffy scrambled eggs. Thankfully he didn’t appear to need an answer. “Take a seat. Take a seat.”
She grabbed the empty chair next to him. He looked to be in his sixties, with white hair and an aura of ageless wisdom, as if he’d seen a lot of life, and yet still found something to smile about. He looked to be someone she’d enjoy getting to know.
The waitress came around bearing food, generously heaped on her plate. “French toast? I thought we’d be eating fried bananas—or is it plantains here?—and orange juice-soaked French bread?”
“You can have that another time, if you want. I ordered this for everyone. You won’t get much work done on a fried banana or two.”
“I’ve never tried them,” Jade protested, reaching for her knife and fork.
“And you won’t today either. Better eat. We’re rolling in ten.” He finished his meal and stood to leave. Several other members followed.
Alone with only Meg at the table, Jade said, “Wow, everyone is in such a good mood.”
Meg grinned at her. “Now if only we could cheer you up.”
Jade sat back and gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m feeling better. Don’t worry.”
“Feeling better, yes. Feeling good, no. We’ll fix that.” She motioned to Jade’s empty plate. “If you’re done, let’s go.”
Caught in the general mood of everyone else, Jade found her doubts and worries from the night before drifting away. She raced after Meg and the others.
*
Dane and John watched the vehicles park outside the picket fence. Dust billowed behind them. Three SUVs—heavily loaded from the look of them.
The doors opened, and several smiling people hopped out and approached the brothers.
An older man with a beard said, “Excuse me, we’re looking for Peppe or Emile Jacinte.”
John pursed his lips, studying the newcomers. “They are my father-in-law and brother-in-law. Are you the mortuary team?”
Several people gathered around the speaker. The older man winced. “Yes, that’s one way of putting it. I’m Dr. Bruce McLeod, and this is my group of specialists.” He motioned to the rest of the group.
“Right. Well, Peppe is, … well, he’s not quite the right person to talk to, and Emile is at work already.”
Dr. McLeod frowned. “We were hoping to get specific directions to the grave site, so as to evaluate the equipment we’ve brought with us.”
A tall, lean, cheerful brunette in the group spoke first. “Could you show us the way to the site perhaps? We understand it borders this property.”
Dane glanced over at John to see him glancing at the house. If Tasha found out John had helped them, well …
“I’ll take them, John.” Dane turned to the strangers, ignoring the look of relief on John’s face. “I’m Dane Chester, and this is my brother, John. His wife is Peppe’s daughter. The grave site borders the family property.”
