Synopsis:
A missing surf legend. Waterlogged clues. Can he trust his gut instincts to end the wave of murder?
Sheriff Jax Turner is learning to live again. Holding tight to the hope of reconciling with his ex-wife, F.B.I. agent Abby Kanekoa, the wary man is determined to remain focused on his coastal Oregon community. But after a concerned brother requests a welfare check, Jax is troubled when he finds the absent surf shop owner’s tracks lead to a pool of blood.
Now investigating a potential homicide, Turner chases a tip from Abby about a severed foot found on the beach. But when a torrent of leads link the victim to a politician’s son, a jealous competitor, and a get-straight program for youth, the steadfast lawman fears layers of lies and secret agendas will keep him from stopping a vicious killer.
Can he unravel the fatal agenda before he’s the next corpse to wash ashore?
Review:
Deadly Tides is the second volume of the Misty Pines series. Keliikoa immediately pulls readers into the atmospheric and suspenseful story. F.B.I. Agent Abby Kanekoa is in search of her mother, Dora, again. Abby was supposed to be enjoying a much-needed day off, but Dora, afflicted with early onset Alzheimer’s disease at only sixty-four years of age, has wandered away from the assisted living center where she resides, and Abby is worried. It’s a damp, cold January day on the rugged Oregon coast and Abby knows she has to face the fact that her mother needs better supervision and care than Stonebridge Assisted Living Center can provide. But she is loath to transfer Dora to a facility in Portland, two hours away. Her colleagues at the Bureau have been accommodating and supportive not only about Abby’s need to take time away from work to attend to Dora, but also as she has grieved the death of her only child, Lulu, from leukemia five years ago. And dealt with her divorce from Lulu’s father, Jax Turner, the local sheriff.
When Abby finally locates Dora, she is miles from Stonebridge on a sandy ridge near the beach, wearing only a bloody nightgown . . . and clutching a tennis shoe containing a severed foot! And Dora does not want to surrender it, insisting, “It’s mine.” She is unable to provide details that would aid in the investigation that is commencing.
Meanwhile, Jax, working with only his trusted assistant, Trudy, and a small force of volunteer reserve deputies, is dispatched to conduct a health and safety check at the home of Terry Chesney on Bull Mountain outside the little town of Misty Pines. Terry, a former surfing champion and “aging beach bum,” operates the Surfrider Shop on the edge of town. But his brother, Gerard, has been unable to reach him since their telephone conversation the prior evening was interrupted when Terry went to the garage of his home to investigate unsettling noises. Jax arrives at the residence to find the garage door open, the lights on, tools scattered about the floor, and a toolbox on its side. Inside the house, an open package of steak is on the counter, along with Terry’s wallet, cell phone, a home baked pie, and groceries that should have been put away hours ago. A steak knife is missing from the wood block containing the rest of the matching set. There is no sign of Terry, but an expanded search leads to the discovery of congealed blood on a pile of leaves not far from an abandoned campsite in the forest near Terry’s house. On a ledge below the tent, Jax recognizes the body of Walter, a homeless man known to wander the Misty Pines area. There is no sign of Walter’s companion, Lois. Soon the missing steak knife is also located near a pool of blood.
Jax and Abby have been attending counseling together but making little progress on repairing their relationship. Both have sought solace in their respective careers as they continue mourning Lulu. Jax is clear about what he wants. He longs to reconcile with Abby and resume their life together. He has sought counseling separately — urged by Abby — and started implementing the counselor’s suggestions, including running to “work out the demons,” and is trying to bring himself to repaint Lulu’s bedroom. It has taken Jax five years to box up Lulu’s belongings, but he still is not able to part with them. Jax worries that he is “unfixable. Unlovable.” He was, after all, abandoned by his own mother. But Abby is not ready and actively evades talking with Jax about their counseling sessions. She’s weary of analyzing her feelings and, although she alerts Jax to Dora’s discovery, recognizing that his department has jurisdiction, she worries that working side-by-side on the case will complicate her efforts to decide whether she wants to get back together with Jax. Thus far, counseling has only heightened her confusion. Jax and Abby are both broken and lost, trying desperately to navigate their grief and, at least in Jax’s case, find their way back to each other. From Abby’s perspective, following Lulu’s death, Jax was unable to “understand her struggle, he was so lost in his own. And she had no energy to make him understand, because he was so quick to have an opinion about her.”
Complicating matters for Jax is Commissioner Troy Marks’ insistence that he hire a full-time, salaried deputy. Misty Pines is a small town that is beginning to experience big city-like crime. Twenty-seven-year-old Rachel Killian has applied for the job and is scheduled for an interview. She has adopted her mother’s birth surname which is why Jax does not immediately realize that he is about to interview the daughter of his former partner, Jameson. She is seasoned, having spent two years working for the Vancouver Police Department before joining the Portland force. Her experience in search and rescue with her trained dog, Koa, could be a real asset in the Misty Pines area. Jax decides to make it an on-the-job interview, inviting Rachel and Koa to join him as he proceeds to Terry’s Surfrider Shop when Terry’s employee, Brandon, reports that he arrived that morning to find it ransacked. As Jax’s investigation proceeds, he learns more about Rachel’s history, relationship with her family, and the reasons she wants to relocate to Misty Pines to work for her Uncle Jax. Jax finds himself at odds with Jameson, with whom he has only recently revived his friendship, and recognizes that doing what he feels is morally and ethically honorable, as well as the right thing for his department, may again fracture their relationship.
Jax and Abby are likable and sympathetic from the outset. Both are quickly established as competent, earnest professionals who immediately commit to their new, intriguing case. Jax follows clues related to Terry’s relationship with his brother, Gerard, as well as his business acumen, practices, and prospects. Meanwhile, Abby looks into the disappearance of Jonathan Lilly, a consultant for a federal power company who went for a run a month ago and was never seen again. His sister and niece, Angel, a survivor of non-Hodgkins lymphoma who was treated at the same hospital as Lulu, are anxious to find him.
Keliikoa reveals that while a foot washing ashore in the Pacific Northwest is not an isolated phenomenon, it rarely occurs due to foul play. More often it is a result of detachment from the body of a drowning, accident, or suicide victim. But when another severed foot is discovered, the odds that harm was deliberately inflicted on the victims increase exponentially. “I was fascinated when I learned of the phenomenon happening right along the Pacific Northwest coastline and knew right then I had to find a way to weave it into a story,” Keliikoa recalls. She wanted to explore “what drives someone to such a gruesome act.” Which led her to create not just a compelling mystery, but an absorbing meditation on grief.
At the center of Deadly Tides is a clever and intricately constructed puzzle, and riveting story about empathetic characters. Keliikoa deftly reveals details about Jax and Abby’s concurrent investigations, introducing a colorful cast of supporting characters as the list of potential suspects grows. But readers are kept guessing as to whether the two cases are related and, if so, what or who links them. Terry and Jonathan “lived in different cities, had unrelated professions, ran in different circles.” There is no indication that Jonathan was a surfer. Initially, there isn’t even any “evidence that the two men knew each other.” Jax and Abby work cooperatively, sharing information, but neither unfailingly recognizes how salient details may be relevant to the other’s investigation.
As the story progresses, and Jax and Abby inch toward unraveling their complex and perplexing cases, Keliikoa places several of her characters in peril, expertly increasing the dramatic tension. Abby is convinced that Dora inadvertently discovered information that might prove helpful to solving the mystery, but her ability to recall and accurately communicate waxes and wanes, making her statements inherently unreliable. Could her knowledge put her in danger? Would someone be motivated to harm a vulnerable woman suffering from Alzheiner’s disease to prevent their wrongdoing from being discovered? Keliikoa says she enjoys examining “what emotional wound was triggered to drive the person to commit such extreme acts” and with Dealy Tides, she effectively digs “into the emotional makeup of the killer” whose identity, when revealed, is shocking.
Deadly Tides is a suspenseful and engrossing thriller, as well as a moving and poignant depiction of the far-ranging and potentially destructive impact of loss, mourning a beloved child, and loneliness and isolation. Through Jax and Abby, she illustrates the myriad emotions, including guilt about continuing to live (particularly for Jax) and regret, that parents face in the wake of losing a child, individually and as a couple, and how the strain can derail a marriage. Abby is also shouldering responsibility to care for her mother, whose cognitive abilities are deteriorating, and striving to balance keeping her mother safe and her professional obligations. Keliikoa says she works “to create characters that are relatable and struggling on some level with the goal of overcoming those emotional obstacles” and hopes that her readers “connect with that or are helped in any way to move through their own process.” With Deadly Tides, Keliikoa attains her goals masterfully, leaving readers anxious to read the next installment in the gripping Misty Pines series.
Excerpt from Deadly Tides
Chapter One
Abby Kanekoa rolled through town in her Prius, searching the empty streets and worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Stonebridge Assisted Living Center had called an hour ago to let her know her mother, Dora Michaels, had walked away. Again.
It was early January on the Oregon coast. There’d been no substantial rainfall for several days. The chilly mist-filled winds had come through that morning, though, and the center couldn’t say exactly when her mother had slipped out their door. Time to put a better lock on that thing. Mom might not be drenched to the bone, but she’d be cold.
Thankfully, this was Abby’s scheduled day off. Not that the FBI didn’t work with her regardless. After her daughter, Lulu, died of leukemia, they’d brought her back to the team as if she’d never left. They understood her bad days. Same since her divorce. Despite what Jax thought about how she’d handled her grief, burying herself in her work and having the support of the Bureau had saved her more than once.
Especially the flex schedule. With her mother’s early onset of Alzheimer’s, it allowed for these occasional searches.
Or not so occasional, as it were. Mom had escaped three times this month.
Greenery and garland from the holidays still clung to the streetlamps on Misty Pines’ main strip. But she had yet to catch a glimmer of her mother’s fiery red hair. At a crawl, Abby glanced inside each of the storefronts. Last time, she’d found her mother at the donut counter picking out an apple fritter.
“Honey’s favorite,” she’d repeated all the way to the car, her hand gripping a white bag full of them.
Abby’s Hawaiian father — “Honey,” as her mother had called him — had treated the family to fritters every Saturday morning since Abby could remember. He’d died twenty years ago, but Abby had continued the tradition with her own family until Lulu died, and it became too painful. Today, the donut shop’s seats and bar stools were empty.
On Scholls Ferry Road, kids played on the swings and monkey bars of the elementary school. The time before the donut shop, Abby had found Mom by the cyclone fence, her fingers clenching the metal lattice, watching the kindergarten class play kickball. They both cried as Abby drove her back to the facility. Alzheimer’s had been brutal to her mother, stealing much of her mind. But memories of Lulu were ingrained, even deeper than those of Abby; Dora often gazed at her like they’d never met.
Abby pulled in front of the bookstore, ignoring the pang in her chest. Emily Krueger greeted her from behind the counter, sorting a new shipment of novels with bare-chested men and women in flowing gowns on their covers.
Abby explained the situation.
“I haven’t seen your mom. But I’ll call if I do.” Emily reached a hand across the counter and squeezed Abby’s forearm. Emily had endured the disappearance of her own daughter a few months ago. If anyone understood Abby’s concern, Emily did.
“Thank you. I’m sure she’s just out picking flowers or . . .” Or what? Where did a sixty-four-year-old woman wander to? What was she looking for when she left the warm confines of the assisted living home into the cool and murky outdoors?
“Maybe she’s folding laundry,” Emily said.
Abby chuckled despite her worry. During the summer, Dora had strolled into the laundromat down the road to fold a stranger’s tighty-whities. But that’s also why fear prickled Abby’s spine now. Dora stuck to the downtown area when she walked off.
Why not this time?
Abby slid back into her car and dialed Trudy at the sheriff’s station.
“No reports about your mom have come in today,” Trudy said.
“You’ll call if one does?”
“Certainly, hon. And I’ll let Jax know.”
Jax. Abby stretched her neck. “Don’t bother him. If needed, I’ll call him later.”
“Uh oh. I thought you two had decided to work on your relationship.”
“We’ve been so busy and . . .” Abby trailed off. She didn’t have a good reason for why things hadn’t progressed between them, only that she was to blame.
“It’ll work itself out,” Trudy said. “You’ve both been through a lot.”
Abby gnawed on her thumbnail. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Have you checked the ocean parks?”
“Next on my list.”
Abby accelerated out of town, tension growing in her shoulders. It shouldn’t be so easy for residents to walk out of an assisted living center. In truth, she was more annoyed with herself that Dora had to be there in the first place.
But Abby had to work and couldn’t give her mom the full-time care she needed. Better facilities could be found in Portland, those focused on memory diseases, but they were a couple-hour drive. At least when her mom walked off from Stonebridge, she couldn’t get far, and Abby was close enough to hop in her car to search. She’d been in law enforcement long enough to know those thirty to sixty minutes could make all the difference.
A fact she was being reminded of today and another source of frustration. Abby hadn’t caught the call on her phone when the staff at Stonebridge first reached out this morning. It took three attempts. She’d been in the shower shaving her legs, of all things. As if anyone would notice.
Abby turned into the boat basin. She cruised through the parking lot, noting the fishing boats rocking dockside. She scanned each of them, spotting a crew of fishermen getting ready to brave the bar, but no redheads traversed the area.
Next, she headed out Ocean Drive, turning onto Meddle Road a couple of miles later. The route led to the ocean and was miles from the facility. Too far for Dora to wander? She’d been gone for half a day. If motivated, she could have made it this far. Abby’s hands tightened on the wheel. Thick mist had rolled in and hung in the sky. The temperature had dipped.
She swung her car into the abandoned beach parking lot and got out. Wind whistled past her as she crested the top of the lot and scanned the shore. The sand blasted against her pant legs with hollow pops and stung her face. She lowered the sunglasses from the top of her head onto her eyes and wrapped her jacket tighter as the cool air bit through the thin fabric.
Where are you, Mom?
Seagulls squawked overhead, catching the drafts. A few landed near the surf, arguing over an empty Styrofoam container. Aside from birds, though, the beach was empty. Only rocks stood sentinel offshore, water eddying around them. This was too far south of one of the surfing beaches and too far north of the other. No place to crab or fish here either. Summer had long passed for tourists to visit, except for the random one or two that had lost their way and stumbled upon the place. The local morning beachcombers had already come and gone, likely sipping coffee in front of a warm fire by now.
Abby’s focus drifted to the tree lined cliffs in the distance. Some trees had fallen, catapult and hapless, onto the dunes. Other had come in on the tide. Abby scanned the area for signs of her mother. That’s when she saw the splash of red rising from a row of logs near the sandy ridge.
Whatever was there had hunkered down. Hiding?
Mom. Abby raced down the hill, the soft white sand sucking at her practical flats. She gave up and kicked them aside. Fifty yards farther, she hit the hardpack and sprinted, the wind at her back. As she drew closer, another flash of red provided certainty that it was hair flapping in the wind.
“Mom, is that you?” Abby hollered.
She slowed her pace to a walk as she approached. The woman was dressed in a nightgown and hunched like a turtle with only her back showing. Shaking. Her red hair, streaked in gray, whipped upward. My god. She was whimpering.
Abby’s heart pounded. Her mother must be freezing.
She almost ran again but it was always best to approach Dora in the same manner she’d approach a small child. Or a suspect.
“Mom?” she said again. Still no response. If she was deep in her illness, the word might not register. “Dora?”
Her mother lifted her head. “It’s mine.”
Abby blew out a long, weary sigh. She’d found Dora — alive and talking. That’s what mattered. Slipping out of her jacket, Abby draped it over her mom before sitting on the log next to her.
“You sure came a long way.” Abby gazed out at the water. Relief at finding her mother unharmed whooshed through her like the breeze around them. Her heartbeat found its steady rhythm. “How about we get someplace warm and dry? Pancakes sound good, don’t they? Let’s find some hot pancakes and drench them in real maple syrup. You’d love that, right?”
“Okay. But I want to take it with me. I found it.”
Her mother had probably discovered some unique shell or glass fishing float. Whatever she’d found, she could keep. Abby would help her display it in her room. “Sure, Mom.”
Dora straightened, and Abby’s stomach twisted at the sight of the blood saturating the front of her mother’s white gown.
“Are you okay?” Abby said, her voice inching up.
Then she saw the source of the blood.
In her hands, she held a tennis shoe containing a severed foot.
2 Comments
Thanks for the review. I’m so glad you liked the book. This series sounds great!
Thank you so much for reading and the fabulous review!