from the back cover
When Mackenzie Russell Wilder returns home to take over Dr. Kesselman’s practice, she expects to spend her time taking care of patients and relaxing on the Hudson River in her classic Chris Craft runabout.
But skeletons uncovered on the old family farm seem to dictate otherwise. Residents of Kings Hill and New York State Troopers think her father had something to do with those skeletons. As bad as her renegade father was, Mackenzie never thought he’d kill anyone. Now she’s not so sure.
With suspicions about her father poisoning her return and tangible resistance to her medical practice, maybe Kings Hill isn’t the best place for her after all. Mackenzie is determined not to be run off, especially with the way her easy friendship with Lt. Bryan Jamison is ramping up. She wants to stay, but who’s trying to drive her out of town? And why?
Where the Bodies Lie Buried is the first book in the Mackenzie Wilder/Classic Boat mysteries, a series of romantic mysteries
an excerpt from ‘WHERE THE BODIES LIE BURIED’
“If one of my boats wore out and I absolutely couldn’t fix it, I’d give it a Viking funeral. That’s what I’d do.”
“How on earth do you give a boat a Viking funeral?”
“I’d set it up on the water. I’d remove anything from it that wouldn’t burn safe — like the leather upholstery, and the engine and so on. Then, I’d pull it out into the water, and I’d set it on fire. Let it be its own funeral pyre.”
“What if it floated back to shore or something. Couldn’t someone get hurt?”
“Okay, anchor it then. Let it burn itself out. Point is, I wouldn’t be polluting the river with stuff that won’t ever break down. Plus, a wooden boat is more dignified, more classy than those stupid things. It deserves a dignified ending.”
“Sure, Mackenzie, sure.”
“Are you patronizing me?”
I’d seen enough for now. As irritated as I was by that abandoned boat, I was also excited by how ’PsyKe’ was running on the Hudson. This was going to be great. I swung the boat around to starboard and began the run back to the Boat Club. It was faster going back, with the current pushing us along. I let the speed creep up, still alert for more floating logs and debris. As I scanned the water, I came back to our other conversation.
“Brooke, I know you mean what you say, but we would need hard proof. Even I need some convincing Pop didn’t push the hard stuff some of the time The troopers think he killed somebody! They don’t have any trouble at all believing he helped move hard drugs.”
“Well — oh, I don’t know how to prove it. It’s not like you can call all the people who hung out with him and ask!”
I steadied the wheel as the current pushed the boat towards the mainland. I wasn’t too sure about what lay beneath the surface yet. “You know, I could almost do that. Except it would be too embarrassing for all of us.”
“What? How? I mean, I could give you a few names, but like you say…”
“No, actually, I have a sort of… list.” I throttled back again. We were coming along behind the buildings on the north end of Main Street.
“What kind of list?”
“Um, a list of people Pop sold stuff to.”
“He kept a LIST?? “
“Yeah, crazy, huh?”
“You aren’t kidding crazy!” She drummed her hands on her thighs. “You know what, though? We couldn’t call them up, but, well, couldn?’t you check their medical records? See if there was any sign of hard drug use?”
There were those records in the back closet.
continue reading excerpts …
Sweet Corn, Fields, Forever (book 2)