Book Review: Killer Tracks

Synopsis:

A peaceful retreat. A maze of smoke and murder. Is their remote getaway about to become a death trap?

Sheriff Jax Turner is worried about going off-grid and leaving his young team of deputies on their own. His getaway with his ex-wife, Abby, is meant to cement their reconciliation, but Jax is distracted by signs of a break-in at their rented lookout.

A string of unsettling events and an approaching wildfire turn their isolated retreat into a danger zone. Jax finds a dead body with marks tying the deceased to a killer he helped imprison a decade ago.

Terrified that their intimate getaway is actually a fatal setup, Jax rushes back to his before she joins the list of victims.

But his dedication to serving and protecting could become an Achilles heel as other players join them among the trees and darkness falls.

Can he fight his way out of the woods before the flames of revenge consume everything?

Review:

Author Mary Keliikoa has been drawn to the justice system since childhood. She grew up watching classic television series like Adam 12, Columbo, Kojak, and Perry Mason, before working as a legal secretary and, later, paralegal. Mary Higgins Clark, Faye Kellerman, J.A. Jance, and Sue Grafton are just some of her favorite authors. So, when she decided to give writing a try, “it was just natural that it would be in the crime genre.” She loves mysteries — “seeing all the pieces floating around and trying to figure out how they fit. Some things look like they should, but they don’t, and there’s such surprise in that which I enjoy.” At the center of most of the stories she tells are “strong women who must overcome obstacles” and, like many writers, she scours the headlines for inspiration. But she says that “most of the time, the characters come to me with the story to tell and I’m just the transcriber.”

Killer Tracks, Keliikoa’s third Misty Pines Mystery, is a fast-paced police procedural initially focused on three seemingly unrelated events. In a chilling Prologue, a man is released from prison, thanks to a legal technicality. F.B.I. Agent Abby Kanekoa and her former husband, Jax Turner, the local sheriff, are planning to take a few days off to reconnect and focus on the reconciliation they tentatively began in the second book, Deadly Tides. The couple lost their only child, Lulu, to leukemia, and their marriage fell apart. Abby has mixed feelings about their prospects, but Jax intensely wants Abby back. Keliikoa says, “There’s almost nothing Jax won’t do” to reunite with Abby and rebuild their family. He carries guilt and remorse for their break-up, and is striving to show Abby that the past will neither be repeated or a hindrance to them moving forward together and being happy again.

It’s difficult for Jax to distance himself from his professional responsibilities, even for brief periods, but Abby is adamant that the two of them need to go away to a secluded, private location and spend time exploring the possibility of rekindling their relationship without distractions or interruptions. Abby has arranged for them to stay in a remote mountain cabin for a few days. Jax knows that his staff are competent and resourceful, and he will be leaving Deputy Rachel Killian, the daughter of Jax’s former partner, Jameson, in charge. In the third story thread, she welcomes the opportunity to prove that she is capable and ready to lead. Not surprisingly, she is finding the pace in Misty Pines, a small Oregon town, a bit too slow. No one knows how quickly she will be tested.

The road leading to the cabin has been closed for nearly a year, and Abby and Jax are scheduled to be the first guests in the newly renovated structure. However, when they arrive, they discover evidence that someone has been staying there. Could it have been one of the construction crew? Perhaps. But Jax’s instincts immediately tell him their seemingly idyllic retreat is anything but. He simply can’t “shake the feeling that even with the best of his intentions, something unwelcome has already begun again.”

Meanwhile, Rachel’s stint as acting sheriff starts off with a bang. Literally. With her faithful dog, Koa, she responds to a report of a small fire at an apartment complex on the edge of town. Finding no visible flames, the fire chief concludes that either the caller who reported the blaze was mistaken or a prankster. As a precaution, the tenants have been evacuated and the fire crew is searching the building to ensure it is safe for them to return to their homes. Rachel realizes that Koa has been alerted and gotten out of her vehicle after being instructed to remain there. Before Rachel can move toward the building in search of her dog, “a blast of glass and heat erupts from the front window of the bottom apartment” and the building becomes engulfed in flames. The coroner determines that thirty-five-year-old Bruce Hatfield, found dead in one of the apartments, died eight to thirty-six hours before the fire . . . and as a result of blunt force trauma. Rachel refuses to disturb Jax and commences the investigation on her own. And stands ready to accept responsibility should it not proceed in accordance with guidelines and protocols.

Keliikoa’s narrative alternates between the events taking place at the cabin and those unfolding in Misty Pines. There is no sign of whomever was in the cabin prior to Jax and Abby’s arrival, but Jax is on alert and vigilant. Neither he nor Abby can abandon or ignore their law enforcement training and experience, of course. He is dismayed and alarmed to find one of the tires on his truck has gone flat. Before long, a young woman arrives at the cabin. She says her name is Hannah and her phone is not working so she has no way to contact her boyfriend to advise him of the exact location where she has set up camp so that he can join her soon. There is no cell phone reception in the area, and Jax has no intention of informing her about the satellite phone secured in his truck. Abby invites her in, but Jax finds her story suspicious, her explanations implausible. And it is decidedly odd that she appears to know her way around the cabin’s kitchen. Abby acknowledges that “something feels off about her.”

Keliikoa skillfully ramps the story’s tension up incrementally as the dual storylines progress. It becomes obvious that someone is deliberately sabotaging Jax and Abby’s getaway, isolating them and successively cutting off their every means of communication and transportation. Why? And who is orchestrating the increasingly ominous and dangerous series of incidents? Is Hannah, who reappears with varying explanations, involved in a sinister plan to harm Jax and Abby . . . or a victim herself?

Rachel’s relationship with her father has been strained for some time, and she is shocked when he turns up in Misty Pines without warning. She suspects he has been dispatched by Jax to check up on her during his absence, but Jameson maintains that is not the reason for his visit. He announces that he wants to see where Rachel lives, and Janelle, Rachel’s girlfriend, encourages him to be their house guest. Although skeptical, Rachel hopes he has come to Misty Pines to “make amends. To get to know her life by seeing how she lives it.” Given his law enforcement background, Rachel has to admit that his assistance will be valuable in finding the murderer. The coroner believes Rachel may be on the hunt for a serial killer. And that individual could be connected to a case Jameson investigated years ago.

Killer Tracks features familiar characters, including Jax, who is an honorable man earnestly trying to overcome his past mistakes and prevent his personal demons from derailing his second chance at happiness with Abby. She is understandably reticent to throw herself back into a full-fledged relationship with Jax because she fears being hurt and disappointed again. Rachel is ambitious and determined to live her life authentically. She refuses to exist in the shadow of her judgmental, disapproving father, even though she loves him and genuinely craves his acceptance and respect. Trudy, Jax’s trusted and indispensable assistant, lovingly maintains order in the sheriff’s office.

Keliikoa has again crafted an intricately plotted, fast-paced thriller that keeps readers analyzing the various pieces of those intriguing puzzles she and readers love, trying to figure out how they fit. The motives and links are far from readily apparent, and Keliikoa acknowledges that “getting it all to come together was probably the most challenging” aspect of penning this volume of the series. But she deftly knits the three threads into a cohesive and riveting mystery – a cat-and-mouse game played with a killer in which the stakes couldn’t be higher. While Rachel is determined to solve the case to prove her worth, Jax and Abby realize they are completely isolated and in grave danger. As they attempt to escape, a wildfire is approaching and Keliikoa was determined to portray the logistical aspects, as well as their fears and the ingenuity required for their survival, as accurately and credibly as possible. She depicts their circumstances with terrifying believability.

Killer Tracks is another engrossing installment in Keliikoa’s popular series. Once again, she seamlessly blends suspense and high-stakes tension with compelling examinations of her characters’ professional and personal challenges, as well as their emotional responses. Like Deadly Tides, Killer Tracks concludes with some lingering questions, leaving readers clamoring for the next book.

Excerpt from Killer Tracks

PROLOGUE

Click. Slide. Clang.

If he never heard that sound again, it’d be far too soon. That, and the sleepless nights under a thread-bare wool blanket that chafed his exposed skin, the looming threat of death… in the yard, the shower, the halls to and from the cafeteria or his cell.

Death and desperation seeped from the pores of this godforsaken place. So thick he could almost taste it. No amount of soap, no amount of ritual, would rid him of the stench that clung to him—though he’d be willing to try.

It was over now. Dying among these second-class men would not be his fate. A man of his intellect, a man far superior to the minions around him, deserved better than what he’d endured these past years.

He’d eagerly reeducate those who believed otherwise. They’d all see it by the time he was through with them, just like those that came before.

Click. Slide. Clang.

A voice echoed off the concrete walls.

“Inmate 22-A-4242. Gather your crap. Time to go.”

He stood, hands to his sides.

“Ready to face the world?”

He remained silent. None would get the satisfaction of his acknowledgement.

The voice continued. “They gave you a goddamn Hail Mary. Bleeding heart liberals anyway. Don’t screw it up.”

He bowed his head to obscure his smirk.

“Right. I know your type. You’re innocent.” The guard continued rambling. “That’s what all you convicts say. ‘I didn’t do it.’ ‘I was framed.’ ‘It’s unconstitutional.’” The guard’s voice dropped to a growl, prickling his skin. “Tell that to the victims and their families. I’d reckon less than one percent of you bastards got a legit claim.”

The guard had forgotten betrayed, of which he surely had been. But he shrugged, not to agree, but to stave off the urge to wrap his hands around the guard’s throat. So close to freedom . . .

Whether he was innocent or not had no bearing; it had not been among the criteria for the help he’d received. Being wrongfully convicted qualified. According to the junior team that had embraced his cause when he’d written the letter, they agreed that’s what had happened in his case. Even if it took them ten years, he loved a system that allowed more loopholes than the cable-knit sweater Mother had dressed him in for school.

“Sell it to someone else, you psycho,” the guard snapped. “Bet you money. We’ll see you again real soon.”

A jagged smile crossed his face. The guard had part of it correct — but he’d never be back here. Next time, he’d be less gullible.

And he intended to snuff out anything that could hurt him, like the light of every other woman who hadn’t seen his worth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One

Some days, it didn’t pay to get out of bed.

Sheriff Jax Turner had experienced more than his fair share of those mornings in the past six years. First, when his daughter Lulu died from leukemia. Then, when his marriage dissolved — more like shattered into a million pieces. Followed by a couple of cases that had tested his limits of trust. They’d destroyed some, too.

Today was different.

Abby Kanekoa, his ex-wife with whom he’d shared the gutting grief of those past years, had offered hope for reconciliation—the chance to glue a few of those pieces back together. It would never be the same without their little girl . . . but perhaps they could create something new.

Leaving for the mountains just after Labor Day was less than ideal. Though with the tourist season coming to an end in Misty Pines, and Abby due a vacation at the Bureau, it was the best time. Deputy Rachel Killian, his new hire and right hand, was turning out to be as capable as he’d hoped. Applicants for filling the gaps at their station had been sparse. Few, it seemed, wanted to work these days — or work at the often cool and foggy Oregon coast. He’d at least been able to get most of his young crew on full-time payroll, so Rachel had help.

Bottom line, getting away was Abby’s idea. He would not tell her no.

Now to get through the pep talk with the team. The two major events of the past year had allowed them to punch a few notches into their experience belt, but wisdom and reliance on gut instinct were born with time. Leaving them to run Misty Pines without his guidance had his muscles taut.

He entered the sheriff’s office with his duffle flung over his shoulder.

“Oh hon, don’t tell me that’s all you’re taking for the week?” Trudy said. Jax’s long-time secretary, and overall, Team Mother to him and his ragtag group of deputies, lifted the headset off her ears.

He suppressed a smile. “Glad to see your accident hasn’t made you any less opinionated.”

Eight months had passed since the event that had nearly stolen her from him and the team. A warm and fuzzy Trudy would be hard to get used to — he was grateful he didn’t have to learn.

Trudy rested the headset around her neck. “Looks like Abby hasn’t given you any clue about where you’re going.”

“Other than the mountains, not much. I’ve tossed a few essentials in my truck.”

“Like?”

“A good book and a board game.” He smiled. “A couple of bottles of wine.”

She arched her brow.

“What? I’m assuming she’s arranged for us to be at some luxury resort.”

“You think so?”

“Abby likes her massages, saunas, breakfast in bed.” Not to mention time basking on the deck with a steaming cup of coffee. For being a tough no-nonsense woman, and a hell of an FBI agent, she liked the finer things—and she’d earned every damn one of them.

“And what do you like?” Trudy asked.

He chuckled. Not much of what he’d just mentioned. “Roughing it.”

“Hmmm…and she arranged this for the two of you to reconnect?”

His smile faded; he dropped the bag at his feet. “Are we camping?”

Trudy laughed and shook her head. “When it comes to women, you do take a minute to catch up. Might I suggest a few more items?”

“Like a tent?” He’d have to dig it out of his garage, which wouldn’t take long.

“No. But a communication device might come in handy.”

“Abby said something about our phones being off for the week.” He shifted on his feet. “Are you saying we’re headed somewhere with no service?”

She returned to her desk in response.

Of course they were. Several interruptions to his and Abby’s conversations had come from the station over the past months. Too often, when they’d just settled into talk or were on the edge of a sensitive topic. Tourist season was like that every year with the random fender bender, a too-loud party on the beach, a drunken brawl at the pub. Some infraction demanding his attention.

Added to that, Brody had slid his motorcycle on wet pavement and nearly dislocated his shoulder in the spring. Garrett had a few interviews in Portland, one in Seattle. Matt was called in to stock shelves by his boss at the IGA grocery store when they were short staffed, which had become more consistent.

Time with Abby had been the price, although the last time they’d carved out a night together still brought a smile to his face. Maybe this trip signaled her intention of wanting more quality togetherness. That thought alone made having limited phone access worth it regardless of where they went, even as the uneasiness of being out of contact with his crew niggled at him.

He flung the bag back over his shoulder and headed to his office.

The click of claws on the linoleum sounded behind him.

“Boss.” Rachel and Koa, her black lab, came out of the kitchen. “You all set?”

“Almost. Picking Abby up soon for what appears might be a wilderness retreat.”

Rachel laughed. “Don’t look so concerned.”

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why you have a crease between your eyebrows.”

He rubbed the spot. “Guess I’m not fond of surprises.”

“Never have been myself, but I have a feeling you’ll have fun.”

“According to Trudy, I will. Hope Abby does.” It was sweet she’d chosen a place that appealed to him—more imperative if she enjoyed herself. She’d never been one to sleep on the ground.

“Believe me, she did good.”

“Take it you know where we’re headed?”

“Not precisely.”

“How about a hint of what you do know, so I’m better prepared?” Having spent far too much time in the dark, he preferred to be ahead of things these days.

She did a zipping motion in front of her mouth. “I get that it’ll be difficult for you, but try not to worry. The men and I have everything covered.”

He nodded. Letting go of the wheel would never be easy, and in law enforcement things could change quickly. But Rachel was solid, and he trusted her… despite his former partner Jameson not agreeing with him hiring his only daughter. Jax had made the right call; he stood by it. There should be no hesitation about him and Abby taking a week for themselves.

“You’ll get a hold of me if there’s a problem?” he said.

“You won’t have any way . . .”

“I’m taking the satellite phone.”

Rachel folded her arms over her chest. “Suppose that’s smart after the last trek in the wilderness . . .”

“Exactly my thought.”

Rachel pursed her lips, likely recalling that day when radio silence had left her and the team wrought with worry as they waited for word on whether Jax and Abby were alive. But Abby should understand his decision, if it came up. Probably better it didn’t.

“Let’s do a briefing before I head out,” he said.

Rachel winked. “The men are waiting for you in the strategy room.”

He chuckled. That’s why there’d been no sign of them when he’d arrived.

In his office, he set his duffle bag on a chair, and retrieved the satellite phone, burying it near the bottom in a T-shirt. Once he checked his email for the tenth time and cleared his desk, he started toward the meeting room, until he heard voices in the reception area.

Trudy was holding open the station’s door. The men were grabbing their gear about to file out, Rachel and Koa behind them.

“What’d I miss?” Jax said.

Koa turned at the sound of his voice, trotting to his side. Jax squatted next to her, draping his arm gently over her back.

“Nothing to worry about, boss,” Rachel said.

“Just a routine traffic revision, chief,” Brody said. “We’ve got it.” He’d gelled down his wispy brown hair today, making him look young. Too young.

“I’ve got forty minutes before . . .”

“Oh no you don’t, Jax Turner,” Trudy said. “It’s a half-hour drive to Abby, and you will not be late.”

“I –”

“We’ve got it, Sheriff,” Rachel said, calling Koa to her. Koa didn’t budge.

“Koa’s siding with me on this,” he said.

Rachel lifted a brow at her black lab, who promptly returned to her side.

Fine. Jax stood. He’d wanted a team he could rely on, and he had one. So why did he feel left out? “Who’s in need of traffic revision anyway?”

“Fire department,” Trudy said.

“There’s an apartment complex on fire at the edge of town,” Rachel said.

Battalion Chief Mike O’Brien rarely requested assistance. With the remaining tourists eking out the last of their holiday weekend there could be a traffic log, he supposed.

“I’ll go with you,” Jax said.

Rachel held up her hands in a stop gesture. “Please. Get out of here and have a good time.”

Before he could protest, Rachel was out the door and Trudy shut it behind them. Through the glass, Jax watched his team slide into two of the patrol cars.

“You heard your deputy, hon. Get your stuff and head to Abby’s. And don’t come back until you and that saint of a woman have worked everything out.”

Trudy was right. He needed to check his ego. Misty Pines could handle a week without him.

A call came through Trudy’s headset which she tapped to answer. She settled behind her desk as he grabbed his bag, her voice fading as he walked outside.

“Yes, Mrs. Harper. Just a small fire. Nothing to worry about.”