by Sara Davison
Praise for Sara Davison’s Novels
The End Begins
“The first book in Davison’s Seven Trilogy grips the reader from page one and holds on until the very end… Thought-provoking, relevant, and suspenseful, The End Begins is a must-read.”
— ROMANTIC TIMES, 4½ Stars, Top Pick
The Darkness Deepens (formerly The Dragon Roars)
“Sara Davison’s second book in The Seven Trilogy brings together all the essential elements of a good suspense read—compelling story, fast-paced action, and believable characters… Readers will not be disappointed in Davison’s second book in the trilogy; it delivers!”
— LUANA EHRLICH, Author of Titus Ray Thrillers
The Morning Star Rises
“Another thrilling read from Sara Davison. Thrust into the midst of intrigue, terror, and a heartrending love story, you will sit on the edge of your seat…”
— BONNIE LEON, Best-selling Author of the Northern Lights series
Vigilant
“In Vigilant, Sara Davison has created deep characters and a story that will grab your heart and keep you on the edge of your seat. Days after reading the story, the characters are still on my mind.”
— Patricia Bradley, Memphis Cold Case series, Winner of Inspirational Readers’ Choice Award
“Vigilant is a unique, boundary-breaking suspense full of emotional depth. Davison’s thought-provoking style will leave you breathless as you grapple with tough moral issues long after the story is over.”
— Rachel Dylan, Bestselling Author of the Atlanta Justice series
Guarded
“Guarded is an intriguing, emotionally-charged romance coupled with spine-tingling suspense, and filled with well-crafted, loveable characters. Her exceptional story-telling and stellar writing make Sara Davison an author to watch.”
—Elizabeth Goddard, bestselling author of the Uncommon Justice Series
“Guarded kept me reading late into the night. The hero was noble, the heroine strong in the face of tragedy, but the little boy, Jordan, stole the show.”
—Robin Patchen, award-winning author of fourteen novels
Lost Down Deep
The Rose Tattoo Trilogy
by
Sara Davison
Lost Down Deep
© 2020 by Sara Davison
Three Dreamers Press
Guelph, Ontario
ISBN: 978-1-7770646-0-0
All rights reserved. Except for brief excerpts for review purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or used in any form without prior written permission from the publisher.
This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.
Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
The Author is represented by the literary agency of WordServe Literary Group, Ltd, www.wordserveliterary.com.
Cover Design: Roseanna White of Roseanna White Designs
Formatting: Polgarus Studio
Welcome to The Mosaic Collection
We are sisters, a beautiful mosaic united by the love of God through the blood of Christ.
Each month The Mosaic Collection releases one faith-based novel exploring our theme, Family by His Design, and sharing stories that feature diverse, God-designed families. All are contemporary stories ranging from mystery and women’s fiction to comedic and literary fiction. We hope you’ll join our Mosaic family as we explore together what truly defines a family.
If you’re like us, loneliness and suffering have touched your life in ways you never imagined; but Dear One, while you may feel alone in your suffering—whatever it is—you are never alone!
Subscribe to Grace & Glory, the official newsletter of The Mosaic Collection, to receive monthly encouragement from Mosaic authors, as well as timely updates about events, new releases, and giveaways.
Learn more about The Mosaic Collection at
www.mosaiccollectionbooks.com
Join our Reader Community, too!
www.facebook.com/groups/TheMosaicCollection
Books in The Mosaic Collection
When Mountains Sing by Stacy Monson
Unbound by Eleanor Bertin
The Red Journal by Deb Elkink
A Beautiful Mess by Brenda S. Anderson
Hope is Born: A Mosaic Christmas Anthology
More Than Enough by Lorna Seilstad
The Road to Happenstance by Janice L. Dick
This Side of Yesterday by Angela D. Meyer
Lost Down Deep by Sara Davison
Coming soon: novels by Johnnie Alexander and Regina Rudd Merrick
Learn more at www.mosaiccollectionbooks.com/books
To Keith ~ for having the courage to come back home.
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, to the One who gives the stories and who always welcomes the prodigal home.
To my family and friends, especially Michael, Luke, Julia, and Seth. Without your support and encouragement I’m quite sure I couldn’t—and wouldn’t want to—do this.
Thank you to early readers and all who offered invaluable insight and guidance in shaping and polishing this story, including members of my writer’s groups and Bev and Helena, my writing retreat partners. It takes a village to write a book, and I am deeply grateful for mine.
Special thanks to Ines for helping to ensure the Spanish was accurate, and to Yolanda, who also advised me on the Spanish and who read the manuscript for cultural sensitivity. If any errors or inaccuracies in the portrayal of the Mexican culture are perceived by readers, I offer my sincere apologies. I have nothing but respect for the Mexican people, the country, and the culture.
And to my beautiful Mosaic sisters and readers. We were created to be in community, and the Mosaic community has come to be one of the most valued in my life and career. Thank you for your unwavering support, encouragement, and advice!
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Let’s Connect!
Discussion Questions
Other Books by Sara Davison
Coming Soon to The Mosaic Collection
Excerpt: The Mischief Thief
Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you…
(Isaiah 43:1-2)
Chapter One
The house should have been completely quiet.
Still, Summer Velásquez stirred in her sleep. Prying her eyes open slightly, she brushed her long, almost-black curls out of her eyes and glared at the offending red numbers on the clock radio beside her bed. 11:10 a.m. Way too early for someone who’d worked all night and only managed to crawl between the sheets three hours earlier. She flung an arm over her eyes to block out the thin rays of sunlight that stubbornly worked their way around the edges of the wooden blinds covering her bedroom window.
A muffled sound from downstairs, like the soft squeak of a running shoe on the gray slate tiles in the front entryway, drifted up to the second floor. Summer bolted upright. Someone’s in the house. She reached for the phone on her bedside table and punched in 911. No time to talk to anyone. If something was about to happen, hopefully the dispatcher would be able to hear it and would send the police to her home.
She slid open the top drawer of the nightstand. A ring box beside the clock caught her eye, and she swept it and the phone inside and closed the drawer, hoping that would block out the voice of the dispatcher. Flinging back the covers, she threw her legs over the side of the mattress and pushed to her feet. She tugged the strap of her tank top into place as she tiptoed, nearly soundlessly in her bare feet, across the wooden floor to the dresser that lined one wall of her room. Not wanting to give away either her presence in the house or her location, she gripped both knobs and slowly, slowly slid open the top drawer.
The harsh click of a Beretta safety sliding off froze her in place.
“Don’t.”
Summer let go of the knobs and lifted both hands slightly in the air. Her stomach twisted into a painful knot as she struggled to keep her breathing slow and even. Who was in her house? In her room? And what did he want?
“Step back.”
She complied. Ten calma. Stay calm. She took another step back and slowly turned to face him, keeping her hands where he could see them.
A tall, broad-shouldered stranger in black dress pants and a steel-blue shirt stood in her doorway. His clean-shaven face might have been handsome if the eyes focused on her weren’t so hard and cold. Summer repressed a shudder. The man pointed the pistol directly at her chest, holding it in his gloved hand in a way that suggested he was familiar with guns and knew exactly how to use one.
She swallowed. “What do you want?”
A mocking smile turned up one corner of his mouth. “What do you think?”
Despite having immigrated to Canada ten years earlier, traces of the Spanish Summer had spoken exclusively during the first eighteen years of her life in Mexico still clung to her words, even more thickly when she was flustered. “We have no thing of value.”
“I seriously doubt that is true.”
In her tank top and shorts, Summer felt incredibly vulnerable. And if there was anything she hated, it was feeling vulnerable. She lifted her chin. “Whoever you are, you have no right to break into my home and—”
The spark that flashed in his eyes stopped her. The man took a step forward, the gun still trained on her. “I don’t have a right?” He pushed the words out through clenched teeth. “I have every right to be here, to come after the diamond.”
Her eyes narrowed. He thinks I have something that belongs to him. Why would I? “Look, I don’t have any diamonds.” She kept her voice low and even in an attempt to keep from antagonizing him further. “But I would be happy to give you what you want if you tell me what it is.”
His laugh was as cold as his eyes. “Oh, you’ll give me what I want, all right, chica.” He took another step closer and reached out with the gun.
Summer forced herself not to flinch. Any sign of weakness would only add fuel to his boldness. Did this have something to do with her work? She wracked her brain, trying to remember if she had seen this person before, but nothing came to mind.
The man slowly ran the barrel of the Beretta down her cheek. “They told me you were beautiful. I thought they were exaggerating.”
Who told him that? Who had been talking about her with this man and why? The cold steel sent shivers of apprehension racing through Summer’s body. It took everything she had not to swipe the weapon away. Espera tu oportunidad. Wait.
Her eyes locked on his. Neither of them moved for several seconds, until the gun slipped slightly down her cheek. Now. She bent her arm and brought it up sharply, knocking the gun away from her face. Grasping his wrist, she twisted it and bent forward, sending him sprawling over her and onto the floor. Summer leapt over the prone body and ran for the door. Just before she reached it, strong fingers closed around her ankle, and she lost her balance and fell onto the wooden floor with a thud.
She flipped onto her back and bent her knee, then drove her free foot into the man’s face. His nose gave under her heel with a sickening crunch. The man howled and let go of her ankle. Summer shoved hard against the wooden floor with both feet, propelling herself backwards. When she reached the doorway, she flipped over onto her hands and knees and scrambled to her feet.
She made it as far as the top of the stairs before an arm circled her waist and lifted her up. Summer kicked backwards, landing one solid hit to the man’s shins, but he didn’t loosen his grip.
Cold metal dug into her temple. “Stop.” The gun pressed deeper and she winced. “Are you going to keep fighting me?”
She shook her head slightly and the man set her down. Summer whirled to face him. Blood dripped from his nose and onto his chin. Keeping the gun aimed at her face, the man swiped a gloved finger over his top lip and glanced down at it. He cursed loudly as he gripped the pistol in both hands.
Piensa. Think. Everything in Summer screamed at her to run, but that would only guarantee a bullet in the back. She did take one small step backwards then stopped and raised both hands again. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. I got scared. Tell me what you came here for, and I will do whatever I can to help you get it.”
The man stepped forward. “Too late for that, sweetheart. A little cooperation back there…” he jerked his head toward the bedroom, “… might have saved your life. Now I’m going to leave my message and get out of here.”
Her forehead wrinkled. Leave a message? For who? How did he plan to—? His finger tensed on the trigger. Heat coursed through her. Do something. Now. Focusing all her rage on the man in front of her, Summer ducked below the gun and launched herself forward, ramming her head into the man’s stomach.
The breath emptied from his lungs with a whoosh, but he managed to bring the butt of the weapon down on her head as he stumbled back, driving her to her knees.
For a few seconds, Summer concentrated on drawing in air, blinking to clear the vision that had gone blurry. A stabbing pain shot through her head from her neck to behind her eyes. Grasping hold of the railing at the top of the stairs, she hauled herself to her feet. The man swore at her and lunged forward. When he hit her, she lost her grip and they both tumbled down the stairs. The man managed to grab the railing and stop himself part way down, but when Summer reached frantically for one of the posts her fingers closed around air. She continued to fall, hitting the stairs violently several times until she landed on her back at the bottom and her head cracked against the gray stone tile. Hard.
>
Dios, sálvame, she breathed as, unable to move, she watched the man slowly descend the stairs, one deliberate step at a time. Would God save her? No one else could now. The smile on his face slid in and out of focus. One of Summer’s arms had landed beside her head and a warm, sticky liquid lapped against her skin.
The man reached the bottom of the stairs and shoved the gun into the back of his jeans as he crouched beside her. “Well, look at that. You did help me after all.”
His voice, like his body, wavered, as though she was seeing and hearing him under water. Summer licked her lips. “H… how?”
“You’ve enabled me to leave my message.” Using the glove that didn’t have his own blood smeared across it, the man dipped two fingers in the pool and scrawled something across the wall at the bottom of the stairs.
“What…?” She couldn’t finish the sentence. The word she had been grasping for was gone, lost in the thick fog swirling through her mind.
Far off in the distance a siren wailed. The man glanced toward the door. “What message?” He stopped writing and stepped over her, heading for the entrance. “You, chica. You are the message.” The front door clicked behind him.
