The sound of a dog barking came to him on the wind, erratic and shrill. Something about the animal’s intensity piqued his interest and he stood, slowly clambering up to the crest of the dune and looking down along the beach. Barely forty yards away, the dog, a black Labrador, was standing as if on point barking to alert its owner, occasionally stopping and leaning into the ground, pawing at the sand and tugging on something at the base of the dunes. Curious, he moved closer, watching as the dog’s owner, an elderly man, drew near, pulling the animal away by its collar. For its part, the dog continued to bark excitedly.
Making his way toward them, he watched as the man knelt and appeared to be trying to retrieve something from the ground. Approaching, he saw whatever it was, it was wrapped in a piece of material and apparently well buried in the sand. The receding water lapped at their feet leaving a frothy residue as it dragged sand away from their discovery with each tidal sway. The dog came over to inspect the newcomer and he held out the back of his hand to allow the animal to smell him. The creature became rapidly disinterested and returned to its owner. Coming to stand alongside, he watched him recoil from the discovery before rising and backing away. They hadn’t met before. The old man’s face was ashen and pale, his eyes haunted. Looking past him, he wondered what he’d found.
“I… I better call the police,” the man said, fumbling for his mobile phone. Intrigued, he stepped past and dropped to his haunches to inspect the find. Once white, the material was now heavily stained and discoloured by exposure to the elements. “Damn it. I haven’t got a signal.” That wasn’t a surprise. The storm had brought down both trees as well as power lines and there was no reason the cell towers wouldn’t also have been disrupted. Meeting the old man’s eye, he recognised the expression. Not merely apprehension but true fear invoked by the discovery. People are so scared of what they don’t understand.
Returning his gaze to ground, he lifted the material to reveal what lay beneath. Folding it back he drew a hand across his mouth. The skull and a portion of the neck were given up from its sandy grave. The eye sockets stared up at him, empty and lifeless and the dawn sunlight glinted from a silver necklace hanging between the vertebrae. He leaned closer, lifting the pendent for a better look. “Do you think you should be doing that?” A nervous voice said from behind. He ignored him, inclining his head sideways and trying to imagine the face of the person buried in the sand, he pursed his lips. “I’m going back to my house. Maybe the landline will work from there. I really don’t think you should be touching that.” Summoning his dog, the man set off without another word.
Looking over his shoulder, he watched the retreating figure as he walked away. Once he was out of earshot, he returned his focus to the human remains once more and smiled, releasing his hold on the chain and allowing the necklace to drop. “I always knew one day you would be returned to us.”
Pre-order from Amazon here
http://geni.us/Bury_Your_Past
Also by the author
The Hidden Norfolk Series
Bury Your Past http://geni.us/Bury_Your_Past
Available for pre-order
The Dark Yorkshire Series
Divided House http://geni.us/Divided_House
Blacklight http://geni.us/Blacklight
The Dogs in the Street http://geni.us/The_Dogs_in_the_Street
Blood Money http://geni.us/Blood_Money
Fear the Past http://geni.us/Fear_the_Past
The Sixth Precept https://geni.us/The_Sixth_Precept
The Dark Yorkshire Series
Books 1 to 3 (The DI Caslin Box Set) https://geni.us/Boxset_1
First published by Hamilton Press in 2019
Copyright © J M Dalgliesh, 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a purely fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
