Risen
A Haunted Series novel
by Alexie Aaron
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
~
Copyright 2017 – Diane L. Fitch writing as Alexie Aaron
ALSO BY ALEXIE AARON
HAUNTED SERIES
in order
The Hauntings of Cold Creek Hollow
Ghostly Attachments
Sand Trap
PEEPs Lite Eternal Maze 3.1
PEEPs Lite Homecoming 3.2
Darker than Dark
The Garden
Puzzle
Old Bones
Things that Go Bump in the Night
Something Old
PEEPs Lite Checking Out 9.1
PEEPs Lite Ice and Steel 9.2
The Middle House: Return to Cold Creek Hollow
Renovation
Mind Fray
The Siege
NOLA
Never Forget
The Old House
Restitution
A Rose by Any Other Name
The Long Game
Given Enough Rope
The Return
Risen
CID GARRETT P.I. SERIES
Cid
High Court
Coming soon: Tiny Houses
CIN FIN-LATHEN MYSTERIES
Decomposing
Death by Saxophone
Discord
The Wages of Cin
Unforgivable Cin: An Opera in Three Acts
I dedicate this book to my brother Steve Zaske. He loved books with action. He stressed that I should let my readers’ imaginations take hold instead of weighing a book down with too much description. I miss you, Steve. Although, I see you in so many of my characters that I sense, in some way, you have never left me.
Table of Contents
A Day at the Beach
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Glossary
Alexie Aaron
A Day at the Beach
The last shuttle from St. Kitts was filled. The swimmers settled in for a ride over to what was advertised as a Day at the Beach. In this case, it was a deserted beach on an uninhabited island. The cruise ship offered outings for the select few who could afford the additional service charge. Meanwhile, the others toured the island, and if they wanted to use the beach at St. Kitts, they would have to deal with the touristy atmosphere. This trip promised a secluded island that wasn’t even on the map.
When pressed, the crew admitted that they weren’t sure what the island was called. “Let’s call it Hidden Island,” the EM, event manager, said. “I have an idea. Let’s name it when we return for the day.”
There were nods and whispers of names ranging from the poetic to the erotic.
The four boats moved swiftly through the water, following the wake of the catering boat which had gotten a late start. The small island which the cruise ships normally frequented was temporarily unavailable. A celebrity wedding was scheduled to take place on its sandy shore. A lot of money had crossed the hands of the governing authority, and the cruise companies were paid for their inconvenience.
The parent company of the ship decided that it could use this as an opportunity for the ship to make more money. They directed the crew to find another island. Surely, there was some remote island on which they could spend the day. As long as the crew cleaned up the beach, no one would be the wiser. This was an opportunity to maybe discover another island, one that the government didn’t ask for remuneration to use.
Event Manager Anders Larsen watched the crewman as he navigated around a few tiny outlying islands. As they approached the island, Anders started to feel the tension leave his body. He had no idea what they would find. The tip for this island came from a former mate who was now running a scuba-diving excursion franchise. The mate couldn’t vouch for whether the island had fresh water on it, but there were waterfalls on the north side, so he assumed that there must be water. “Test it first,” was all he said as he pocketed the finder’s fee. “I’ve never been on shore. We spend our time under the water on the sea side of the reef that circles the island, not tanning on the beach.”
“What’s it called?” Anders asked.
“I’m not really sure. Out here there are six names for every place. It depends who you ask.”
Anders took this answer in stride. The Caribbean islands had had quite a few masters in their past. If the GPS got him to the island safely, then the name wasn’t necessary. After all, their normal swimming spot would be available the next time the ship docked at St. Kitts, if this one didn’t prove adequate.
Departing the boat, Anders was amazed that this island hadn’t already been picked up by Sandals for an all-inclusive resort. The setup of a deep white sandy beach edged by tropical flowering plants was ideal for the hoteliers. Behind the flowers was a gradual rise of thick jungle, dotted with tall, swaying palm trees.
“It must be owned by an eccentric or a shell corporation for future use,” Anders said.
“I’m sorry, sir, were you talking to me?” the assistant chief caterer asked.
Anders looked down at the pretty woman and shook his head. “No. I’m just pleased to find an island untouched by greed.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Sally said. “With television series showing that you too can own an island, some lottery winner will snap this gem up.”
“You have a lot of faith in the lottery,” Anders commented.
“It’s my retirement fund,” Sally said and walked away to direct her staff on
