Lost

by Vivi Anna

  PRAISE FOR VIVI ANNA

  “…showcases the phenomenal writing talent of Vivi Anna.” – Debbie, ck2skwipsandkritiques

  “Fans of Laurell K. Hamilton (early work), Kim Harrison, and Charlaine Harris now have a new name to add to their must read list, Vivi Anna!” – Catherine Smith, PNR

  “Vivi Anna is a premier writer who knows how to ingeniously draw the reader into her stories.” – Amelia, Cataromance

  “Vivi Anna has solidified her place among the top writers…” – Anne, ck2skwipsandkritques

  PRAISE FOR THE VALORIAN CHRONICLES

  “Filled with suspenseful mysteries, dangerous action and every conceivable emotion, this story will often leave one breathless…” - Amelia, Cataromance

  “…highly recommended to readers who enjoy paranormal, romance, suspense, and mystery in their books because this book has it all.” - Rachael, Night Owl Romance

  “If you like CSI, you'll love this smart, sexy and suspenseful trip through Necropolis where the villains are vamps, werewolves and witches--and so are the good guys.”

  - USA Today best selling author, Rebecca York

  “Vivi Anna has created an incredible world and filled it with characters you'll love. A fast, sexy ride, The Valorian Chronicles is sure to be a winner! I can't wait for the next installment!” - best selling author Maureen Child

  “Excellent characterization, a gripping storyline, and a developing romance with a substantial amount of heat.” – Sinclair Reed, Romance Reviews Today

  “Anyone who enjoys crime shows, mystery novels or vampire/werewolf/witch-themed works will love this one!” - Heather Hiestand, Romance Reader at Heart

  LOST

  A Bandit Creek Mystery

  By

  Vivi Anna

  Copyright 2011 Vivi Anna. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, is any form. This ebook may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others.

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Siren’s Song

  Bio

  More Titles From Vivi Anna

  Chapter 1

  The water rippled, sending whispers to her on its waves. She bent low toward the glistening liquid, listening, straining hard to hear the words the water wanted her to know. There was a truth there, she was certain of it.

  On hands and knees, she settled her face just above the lake waters. Maybe if she submersed herself, her face at least, she could hear the whispers clearer. She had to know what the water was trying to tell her. Lives, she was certain, depended on it.

  Slowly, she pushed her face into the water, her eyes open, alert, ready for anything. Because she knew there was something in the lake. There always had been.

  She waited, her lungs bursting for air. The urge to open her mouth to take in oxygen ripped at her brain.

  Finally, another set of ripples came from some movement in the water. As they undulated over her flesh, into her ears, she made out three words.

  I.Am.Lost.

  Kirsten Morgan jolted straight up from her sleep. Sweat shellacked her tank top to her back. It also dotted her forehead and upper lip. It was always that way after one of her dreams.

  Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window. It was early yet. Too early on a normal day to be awake.

  She swung her legs over her bed, and sat up, setting her head in her hands. The smell of copper still lingered in her nose. It wasn’t the scent of blood but something else.

  Her head throbbed something fierce, as if something inside was getting ready to burst open. That probably wasn’t too far from the reality of her situation.

  She rubbed her face with her hands, and held her head up, blinking to get her bearings. She’d drunk a lot of martinis last night. But she wasn’t normally one for hangovers. No, her unease and queasiness came from elsewhere.

  Movement behind her on the bed made her flinch. She glanced over her shoulder to see Josh, her man for the month, rolling over to look at her. He traced a finger over her bare back.

  “It’s barely six. Why are you up?”

  “I got to go.”

  She stood, punctuating her statement, and crossed the room to gather clothes from the dresser. Her clothes from the night before were strewn every which way. A morning chill raised the goose flesh on her arms and legs. She glanced down, realizing she was completely naked. She reached for the silk robe draped over her dressing chair and slid it on.

  “Where are you going? I didn’t think you had an upcoming appearance. You said you were free for the next few days.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s changed.”

  Kirsten pulled open drawers and yanked out some underwear, T-shirts, jeans and various other garments. She tossed them onto the bed, then moved to her closet. She slid open the door and grabbed the suitcase buried in the corner. She put that on the bed as well.

  Frowning, Josh sat up. “What’s the suitcase for?”

  “I told you I had to go.”

  “I thought you meant for the day. Not for a holiday.”

  She unzipped the suitcase and piled her clothes inside. As well as shoes and boots, and a couple of jackets. “This is not a holiday.” She packed hurriedly, the urgency to leave making her jumpy.

  “Jesus, Kirsten, what the hell is going on?”

  “Look, Josh, you’re great and it’s been fun, but I’m leaving town for a while. Maybe we can hook up when I get back.”

  “When will that be?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. A week maybe. Two at the most.”

  He grabbed her hands before she could shove more clothes into the bag. “Hold up. What the hell is going on? Did I do something wrong?”

  “This isn’t about you, okay? I have to go somewhere. It’s important.”

  He let her go and sat back. “Is it your work?”

  Sighing, Kirsten nodded. “Yeah.” It was always her work that drove her from her bed, drove her from other people, from places that she’d temporarily called home. It was her work that sent her traveling around the world, involving herself in other people’s tragic lives.

  Her head was still killing her and she rubbed at her right temple. If she was going to make it there in one piece, she’d need to take some painkillers before she got on a plane. The air pressure would be too much on an already pressurized brain.

  “Where are you going? Can you tell me that much?”

  She zipped up her suitcase, and set it on the floor. Sweat was trickling down her back. She wasn’t sure she was even ready to go. But, she knew without a doubt where the dream was telling her to go. She knew that water, she knew that coppery odor.

  “Bandit Creek, Montana. I’m going home.”

  Chapter 2

  Kirsten pulled the Saab up to the curb on Spruce Street and parked. She wasn’t quite ready to go to the Sheriff’s Office yet. Besides, they wouldn’t be happy to see her, and would likely do what they could to push her out of town. So, she decided to see some old friends first before doing battle with the Sheriff.

  She got out of the car, pressed the locking mechanism, although she certainly didn’t need to here in Bandit Creek, but it was habit. Pushing her sunglasses onto her head, she looked down the quaint street taking it all in, breathing in the fresh crisp air. A smile split her face when she noticed the law office next to the saloon. She imagined all of Mr. Guiley’s clients coming from the Powder Horn. It was a smart real estate decision.

  She lifted her arms and st
retched them out. The strain on her muscles from the hectic travel making them stiff. It almost felt good to be home.

  The drive from Missoula had only been a few hours. The flight from Seattle was that as well. Not a long trip, considering she’d felt like she’d been thousands of miles from this place, her childhood home. She hadn’t been here in five years. Not since the Baker missing person’s case which had gained her fame. Fame she didn’t mind so much. It at least allowed her to do what she was good at. Her father resented her for it, though. He never understood what she did. Didn’t believe in her abilities at all.

  She suspected he somehow blamed her for her mother’s death. The question was there in his eyes every time he looked at her. Why didn’t you see this coming?

  Straightening her shoulders, and smoothing down her flyaway hair, she pushed open the double swinging doors of the Powder Horn Saloon and walked into her past.

  The saloon was the same. Built in 1912, it still had all its old world charms. Including the dirty, dusty allure of the old west. Grit crunched under her boot heels as she crossed the worn scarred wooden floor to the bar. At four in the afternoon the place had its usual patrons, some at the bar, some at lonely tables in the corners. One patron sat on an old wooden barstool chatting up the bartender, his long silky black hair braided down his slender back. He was just the man she’d hoped to run into.

  She settled in beside him. “Don’t you have a job to do, Deputy Medicine Crow?”

  He turned and looked at her, his intense dark eyes widening. “Are you kidding me? Kirsten Morgan.”

  He stood and swept her up into his big arms, hugging her close and tight. The smell of smoke and nature he always carried with him filled her nose. She could barely breathe as he squeezed her. Once he set her down, she laughed.

  “Jesus, Adam, you don’t have to kill me.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Can’t a girl come home and see her friends?”

  He lifted one eyebrow, giving her his trademark ‘don’t give me any shit’ look. “No, she can’t. Not a girl like you.”

  “What does that mean? Not a girl like me?”

  “You know what I’m saying. You’re all famous and shit, doing that stuff you do. You haven’t been home in five years. You haven’t even called.”

  She nudged him in the arm. “Is that what’s bugging you, that I haven’t called you?”

  He shrugged, but she could see the distant hurt in his eyes.

  She shook her head. “Adam, you know we never agreed…”

  “It’s cool,” he cut her off. “Have you seen your daddy yet?”

  “I’m still smiling, ain’t I? So you know I haven’t.”

  “Well, sit with me and I’ll buy you a drink. I’ll go over to the office with you.”

  She smiled at him. Adam, ever dependable. God, she missed him. “Sounds good.” She slid into the next barstool.

  The bartender sidled over and plopped a Heineken in front of her. “The usual?”

  “Thanks, Cotton.” She picked up the beer, took a swig. “I can’t believe that you remembered.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You spent enough time in here as a teen.”

  “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too.”

  Adam lifted his draft and tapped it against her bottle. “Here’s to Kirsten Morgan, the famous psychic, being home.”

  “Cheers.”

  She drank, feeling no joy in the cheers. She didn’t want to be home. Had no intention of ever returning. But here she was, forced here by a dream. Not just any dream though. It was a premonition and a message. Something was going on in Bandit Creek, something terrible, and she was here to find out what it was.

  Chapter 3

  As promised, after one drink Adam escorted her to the Sheriff’s Office. Her stomach roiled with nerves as she got out of Adam’s truck and walked up the short sidewalk to the main doors. He opened one door for her and she went through.

  Carly, the main receptionist, greeted Adam, then her gaze landed on Kirsten. Her eyes lit up and her grin nearly split her pale doughy face. She stood and came around the big desk. Kirsten swore the woman was twenty pounds heavier than when she last saw her.

  “Oh my Lord, is that Kirsten I see?”

  “It is.”

  Carly wrapped her doughy arms around Kirsten and squeezed her tight. “It’s so good to see you girl. You’ve been away for too long.” She let her go and stepped back to examine her. “Samuel never said anything about you coming home.”

  “He doesn’t know.”

  Carly nodded, knowingly. “Well, I guess you best get your butt back to his office so he can see his one and only daughter.”

  Adam touched Kirsten’s shoulder. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m good.”

  “Come to my office when you’re done, and I’ll take you back to your car. Maybe we can get dinner?” The eagerness in his voice and face made her smile.

  “Sure.”

  Taking a deep breath, she walked down the corridor to the back offices. The door to her father’s, the Sheriff, was closed. She knocked on it softly.

  “Come in,” came his gruff voice.

  Swallowing, she turned the knob and opened the door. When she went in, his head was down reading something on his desk. His reading glasses were perched on the end of his thin nose.

  How many times had she seen him like that? Bent over his desk, reading something, contemplating. More times than she could count. The end of his nose always had indentation marks from when his glasses pressed in.

  A miamasa of emotions filled her seeing her dad again. Love. Anger. Sorrow. Regret. She put a hand to her chest hoping it would ease the pain in her heart. It didn’t.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  He looked up, his glasses falling off and landing on the papers on his desk. Stunned, he eyed her for a few moments, then said, “Kirsten.”

  She moved toward the desk, and sat in one of the visitor chairs. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. Surprised you’re here is all.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re no more surprised than I am about coming home.”

  He leaned back in his chair. It creaked with age. “Why are you here?”

  No, “Hey honey, good to see you. I’ve missed you.” Just why? Why had she come home? Like she was some stray cat gone for years.

  “I’m here about the missing girl.” She’d done a bunch of research while on the plane and discovered that a young woman had gone missing in the Bandit Creek area about eight months ago. So far it didn’t appear that there had been any leads.

  “What about her?”

  “Have you found her?”

  “I don’t think it’s any of your concern. It’s police business. Last I checked you were not a police officer or working for any legitimate agency in this country.”

  She sighed. “I can help, Dad. You know I can.”

  “I don’t need your kind of help. We’ll find her with good old fashioned police work, not with hoodoo voodoo.”

  “It’s not voodoo.”

  He put his hand up to stop the argument they always had when it came to Kirsten’s psychic abilities. He never understood them and really never believed they existed. All the times she was able to help people with impossible cases, he chalked it up to luck and insider information. He never once truly believed that she could ‘see’ these things in her mind’s eye.

  “If you came all this way thinking I would let you near this case, you can turn around and take your famous butt back to wherever you’re living these days.”

  “Seattle. You knew that. You have my address and phone number which you have never bothered to use even once.”

  She stood, then without another word, left his office, slamming the door behind her. She leaned against it to gain regain her breath and her strength. Her hands were shaking. Anger coursed through her like wildfire. Anger and grief. The grief surprised her. She’d thou
ght she’d stopped looking for his approval. Obviously, she’d been wrong on that point.

  Once she was calmer, Kirsten crossed the hall and opened the door to Adam’s office, not bothering to knock. He jumped to his feet when she walked in. He took one look at her then shook his head.