Drown Her Sorrows by Melinda Leigh (Bree Taggert Book 3) EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Melinda Leigh
- Genre: Murder, Women Sleuths
- Publish Date: 16 March 2021
- Size: 2 MB
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Avail for Download
- Price: Free
Behind the wheel of her official SUV, Sheriff Bree Taggert stared at the
screen of her ringing cell phone with regret. At six thirty in the evening, she
was almost home, but her deputies didn’t call her cell unless it was important.
She answered, “Sheriff Taggert.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but I have a situation.” Deputy Laurie
Collins’s voice echoed through the Bluetooth speaker. “Approximately thirty
minutes ago, I responded to a report of an abandoned car at the bridge on
Dead Horse Road.” The deputy paused. “The car is not disabled in any way.
There’s no sign of the driver, but her purse and cell phone are in the vehicle.
I’m concerned the driver might have wandered away from the vehicle and
gotten lost. Or worse.”
The hairs on the back of Bree’s neck quivered. She lifted her foot from
the gas pedal, and her SUV slowed. Collins was a new hire, but she was
hardly a rookie. She came with six years of patrol experience. She had good
instincts, and Bree felt lucky to have hired her. If Collins was concerned,
there was likely a reason.
Bree pulled over to the shoulder of the road. “That is strange. Are you
still on scene?”
“On my way. ETA five minutes.” Bree ended the call.
She squinted through the windshield. She could see her sister’s
farmhouse—now Bree’s home. A ball of emotion welled up in her throat.
Four months after her sister had been murdered, grief still flared at random
moments. Bree had taken charge of her sister’s two kids along with the farm.
The kids sometimes needed more guidance than Bree felt capable of
providing. She did her best, but in the real world, an “effort” grade was
bullshit. Experience told her she’d be tied up with this call for the rest of the
evening. She’d miss dinner with the kids and reading bedtime stories with
But response time could be critical if the driver of the car was injured or
lost. Early May in upstate New York meant thirty-degree temperature swings.
The days were warming, but the nights still hovered near the freezing mark.
Hypothermia was a real risk. The area around the bridge on Dead Horse Road
was densely wooded. Bree didn’t really have a choice. She had to go.
When she’d been a homicide detective with the Philadelphia PD, Bree
had used cases to blot out personal issues. Avoidance had always been her
preferred coping mechanism. If compartmentalizing were an Olympic event,
Bree would be the gold medalist. She was almost grateful that the sheriff’s
department she’d been appointed to run three months ago was a total disaster.
Between work and raising her niece and nephew, Bree had little time to dwell
on her own loss.
Now, her priorities had changed. Her job was important, but there were
days—like this one—when she resented its intrusion into family time. On the
bright side, she had live-in childcare. So, that was one less worry.
She turned her vehicle around and punched the gas pedal, and her SUV
raced down the road. She called the house to let her family know she’d be
late, then turned her attention to the job. The back road and its namesake
bridge were only a couple of miles away.
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