Page 1 of The Lost Bones

PROLOGUE

The first thing Mackenzie felt was the heavy weight of her eyelids. She struggled to peel them open. Then she felt drops of water fall on her shredded lips.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Her tongue poked out to taste it. A groan escaped her parched throat. Slowly the rest of her sensations returned. The harsh grooves of the rope cutting into her wrists. Her shoulders on the verge of popping out of their sockets. Her bare feet dangling. A sheet of sweat plastering her shirt to her skin. Wisps of hair falling in her eyes. Her labored breaths, which made her chest ache.

She swiveled her stiff neck to take in her surroundings through hooded eyes. It was dark. Pitch black. But it smelled wet and stale. The dripping water echoed. Was she in a basement?

Her foggy mind hunted for answers, but only questions were posed. Where was she? What had happened to her?

Her training kicked in. She wriggled her arms and yanked on the ropes, but they were too tightly tied.

“Damn it. Hello? Is anybody there?” Her voice bounced back to her.

A faint throbbing in the back of her head grew stronger. There was a patch of dried blood there. She could feel how sticky it was. Wondering how the hell she was going to get out of this situation, she felt a strange prickle.

Like she wasn’t alone.

She whispered. “Who’s there?”

She felt someone’s breath at the back of her neck. Goosebumps spread like wildfire on her skin.

“You will bleed, Mackenzie.” The voice spoke calmly.

To Mackenzie’s horror, she knew exactly who the voice belonged to; she knew the person holding her captive. Everything came back to her, slamming into her with a mighty force. She should have seen this coming. After all, the writing was on the wall.

ONE

APRIL 10, LAKEMORE, WA

“Why the hell are we busting a drunk Darth Vader?” Detective Mackenzie Price muttered, dragging another old man reeking of alcohol and wearing a bedraggledStar Warscostume by the collar. “It isn’t even Halloween. What’s wrong with you?”

“The force doesn’t wait for Halloween,” the man slurred, and Mackenzie rolled her eyes.

“Haven’t done this since I was on patrol.” Her partner, Nick Blackwood, walked next to her with his hands in his pockets and wearing a cheeky grin. “Reminds me of the good old days…”

“When your head didn’t have so many white hairs?” she quipped.

Even though Nick only had graying hair along his temples, his hand still shot to his head as he checked his reflection in the window.

“Gotcha,” Mackenzie sang.

“Marry me, Detective,” Darth Vader slurred.

“No chance, Derry.”

“Thenyoumarry me.” He turned to Nick.

Nick snorted. “Flattering, but you aren’t my type.”

Derry groaned in displeasure when Mackenzie opened the holding cell and gently pushed him inside. “I was just trying to share the force!”

“You were peeing on the ice statue at the mayor’s party,” Mackenzie reminded him, and gestured to a deputy to lock the door and keep an eye on him.