Dark Harvest (A Holt Foundation Story Book 2)

by Chris Patchell

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Seth said. “Elizabeth hired her own independent investigative staff, but I think we should partner more closely with the police. Do you agree?”

  He directed the question at Alvarez. The lieutenant nodded. “It makes sense. Let’s meet next week.”

  “Maybe you’ll be our police liaison,” Evan said to Seth.

  Seth shook his head slowly. “Actually I was thinking that I should stay at the foundation.”

  A hush fell over the group. Marissa smiled.

  “I’m happy to hear that, Seth. We need you. And someone needs to keep an eye on Henry,” Evan said.

  “Lieutenant . . .”

  Alvarez held up his hand. “I get it. You’re staying. Just as well. You’re a righteous pain in the ass, Crawford.”

  Seth chuckled. “Thanks for everything, Brad.”

  “You owe me one,” Alvarez said.

  Seth nodded. Marissa stifled a yawn.

  “That’s my cue. Get some rest.” Alvarez stood. He shook Evan’s hand and clapped Seth on the shoulder as he left the room.

  “You know, speaking of the foundation . . .” Brooke trailed off. She looked at Evan, then her mother, as if uncertain what to say next.

  “What is it, honey?” Marissa asked.

  “Well, I was thinking that I might like to help out at the foundation. As a volunteer, I mean.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea, but do you need a little more time?” Marissa asked.

  “Maybe, but I’d like to try.”

  “We’d love to have you,” Evan said.

  Suddenly Brooke looked lighter and more hopeful than she had in weeks. Seth knew that whatever had inspired this change in events, it signaled a big step forward in Brooke’s recovery.

  “We should go too,” Brooke said abruptly, like she was anxious to shift the attention away from herself. She pulled on her coat while Kelly and Evan collected their things.

  Both girls kissed their mother. Marissa hugged them tight.

  “Thanks for smuggling in the contraband, girls.” Seth winked. “I promise to share it with your mother.”

  “Ha! Like you have a choice,” Kelly said.

  Brooke stepped toward the bed. Hesitated. Then she leaned toward him. Her hands wrapped around Seth’s shoulders. She pressed her cheek against his scarred one in an awkward hug. Something sweet tugged at his heart.

  Kelly touched his arm. Blinking back the film of tears in his eyes, he glanced at Marissa. She was smiling as the girls said their goodbyes.

  “Those are some great kids you have there.”

  “I know.”

  She held out her hand. Seth reached for her, but she shook her head and pointed to the ice cream. He laughed and handed it to her. Marissa ripped the top off the tub and dug her spoon into the rich chocolaty depths. Popping a gigantic spoonful into her mouth, she closed her eyes and groaned.

  “Now that’s good.”

  “I didn’t know you liked ice cream,” he said.

  “All pregnant women love ice cream. It’s written somewhere.”

  “About the baby,” he said. They were long overdue in talking about the pregnancy. In truth, he was afraid of what she might say. But not talking about the hard stuff had almost ended their relationship. “Like I said, no matter what you want to do, I’ll support you. I’m with you a hundred percent.”

  “I want to keep him.” Marissa heaped another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

  He didn’t know what he expected her to say, but it wasn’t this. Joy pierced his heart, the shock of it so pure, it was like a blind man seeing color for the first time.

  “Me too. I know you’re worried about my not moving on but . . .”

  Marissa held up her hand.

  “I don’t think it’s fair of me to expect your feelings for Holly to disappear.”

  Holly. Down in the well, on the verge of drowning, he had heard her voice. Somehow, she was with him. He didn’t understand it. The logical part of his brain chalked it up to a chemical reaction brought on by oxygen deprivation. But it was more than that. She had saved him. Returned him to a life that was no longer filled with grief and loss, but with hope.

  “I want us to raise this baby together and be a family, all five of us. I’ve never wanted anything more,” Seth said.

  “Five of us?”

  “You, me, the girls, and our baby.”

  “You’re ready for that?”

  “I’ve never been more ready. My home is with you. Wherever you are.”

  Tears filled Marissa’s eyes. She set the ice cream down. She rose from her wheelchair and wrapped her arms around him. Her lips touched his. He buried his hand in her hair and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss until she gave a soft groan in the back of her throat.

  “Easy, tiger,” she said with a laugh, pulling away. “You’re still on the injured list.”

  Marissa eased herself onto the bed beside him. They lay there, his arm around her, their fingers entwined.

  This was what peace felt like.

  “Hey, you said him—that you wanted to keep him.” Seth arched his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

  Marissa gave him a sly glance.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.”

  Author’s Notes

  In many ways, I feel as though I live a charmed life – not the least of which has been in recent years where I’ve been able to pursue my love of writing fiction and share it with others. America is at an interesting point in history where people’s personal beliefs seem to drive wedges between each other more easily than ever before. When I started writing Dark Harvest, I had no plans on writing a novel with political leanings. However, the winds of political change have swept across America since Marissa and Seth started their new adventure, so I have no doubt this novel runs the risk of being branded. This was not my intention. Many people face tough personal choices, and I think the last thing anyone needs is more people making judgements about how someone else choses to live. Enough about that.

  I’ve always thought the best part of researching a novel is the great people you meet along the way. I want to thank Seattle Police Detective, Matt Hyra for bouncing around a whole bunch of hypothetical misdeeds with me over the course of writing the story. Not only is Matt a great cop and a fabulous person, he is also an author, and has published a thriller called The Island. Genetic Counselor, Malia Rumbaugh, graciously shared her insights on stem cell research as it pertains to Alzheimer’s and dementia. Dr. Johnny Yamoah and I talked about leg fractures and other fun medical scenarios as I finished off the book.

  While research provides a plausible framework on which to build my story, I will admit that I am guilty of bending, distorting, or just plain breaking the rules to suit my fictional whims. Because that’s what we fiction writers love to do—we love to make stuff up.

  I’m fortunate to have a great support team around me. Mark Cooper, editor extraordinaire, who constantly pushes me to write my best. Rebecca Berus my marketing strategist, who finds new ways to expand my reach. My agent, Andrea Hurst, who has shared her expertise and guidance along the way. Monica Haynes designed the fabulous cover. I also want to thank Ty, my Kindle Press editor, who was a joy to work with and whose expert eye helped polish the final manuscript. Finally, to my publisher, Kindle Press, who helped make In the Dark a huge success and who enthusiastically embraced Dark Harvest.

  Thanks to my writing group, Molly and Kristin, on whose feedback and kinship I rely, and to Mally, MABs, Julie, Pam, and Ginna who read over early drafts and helped me hunt down and destroy all of those nasty typos.

  Most of all I want to thank my wonderful family. Change is hard and Gord and the girls have provided me with the love and support I’ve needed to make it through the many endings and beginnings over the past few years. I couldn’t do what I do without you.

  If you’re interested in finding out what goes on in the life of this suspense author, you can sign up for my
newsletter at: http://www.chrispatchell.com/. You can also follow me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorchrispatchell/

  Happy reading. I hope you enjoyed the story!