Slain in the Sand (A Cape Cod Cozy Mystery, Book 2), Ebook

Slain in the Sand is Book Two in the Cape Cod Cozy Mysteries.

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Unmasking the killer is Heather's specialty, even when her own identity remains unknown.

Heather is forging a new life on Cape Cod after a mysterious car accident left her with no memory and burning questions about her ex-convict traveling companion, who perished in the crash.

Eager to remember her past, she’s thrown into a murder when her newly adopted puppy – named Artie, because being an artist is all she knows about herself – discovers the lifeless body of the town doctor.

Can Heather uncover the killer’s identity and reclaim her own?

Order Slain in the Sand today for seaside charm, lovable characters, and an edge-of-your-seat murder mystery.

“ Read the book. Read the series. Read anything Angela Ryan has written. It won't disappoint!"
   - Maria BF

"Each time I start reading one of the books in the series I have a hard time putting it down! The town is majestic and the characters are captivating. Loved this book!"
   - Cara

“ I haven't been to Cape Cod in years but this book makes me want to find the time to visit this beautiful area of Massachusetts.”
   - WLS

"This is a fun, well-written mystery that will keep you turning the pages."
  - DK

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Prefer paperbacks? Click here.

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Heather and Sydney laughed as Heather’s Mal-Shi puppy dashed from the waves that crashed on the Cape Cod shoreline, fully convinced they were chasing him. He leapt onto the soft sand, then stood in a defensive posture as he watched the waters recede. He jerked his head to look up at Heather, as if asking her what those mysterious waves were up to.

“Silly dog,” Heather said to Artie, bending down to scratch his damp head. She had named her new pup Artie, because after losing her memory in a car accident just over three weeks ago, one of the few things she knew about herself was that she was an artist.

“He certainly is,” her neighbor and new friend, Sydney, said. “But he keeps life fun. Let’s get him off the beach before there’s more sand than fur on that little body. I’ll make us some hot chocolate that I bought from that new specialty store in town.”

They walked on the hard sand along the Nantucket Sound toward Sydney’s rented beach house. It was an unseasonably warm Sunday in March, but the wind off the ocean was taking its toll. 

Sydney’s beach rental was just steps from the ocean, and its tranquil view brought a sense of peace to Heather that made her feel as if everything would be okay, despite the fact that her doctors had hoped her memory would have returned by now.

“I love these unseasonably warm days,” Sydney said as they approached the grey weather-beaten cottage. It was a side-by-side duplex with a narrow path between the two units that led from the front yard to the beach. The units were connected by a shingled roof. “Days like today make me wish I could afford to rent this place in the summer.” 

Sydney, a children’s book author, was looking for a new home to purchase. She had convinced the owner to rent her the beach house across the street from the inn where Heather now lived and ran the gift shop, until the busy summer rental season began. At that point, she would no longer be able to afford the exorbitant rates required for her to continue living in it.

“When do you have to be out?” Heather asked.

“May 15. The owner, Jackie, hasn’t decided yet if she is going to sell it or rent it, but she wants to be ready for either by Memorial Day Weekend.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something by then.”

“I hope so. It’s already mid-March, and even if I made an offer on a property today, it would still take around six weeks to close on it. If I don’t find something in the next couple of weeks, I could be looking at another short-term rental situation. Or worse, I could end up back at my mother’s.”

“Would that be so bad?”

Sydney chuckled. “Her house is like Grand Central Station. A couple of my siblings are still in college, so they’ll be staying with her over the summer. And my other two, who live on their own, are always coming in and out. She also watches my nieces some days. I’d never get any work done.”

Heather couldn’t help but wonder if she, too, came from a large family that she would be able to stay with if she were in Sydney’s situation. “It’s almost spring. I’m sure a lot of houses will be coming on the market soon.” 

They walked past the massive sand dune on their right, which extended past the beach house and just beyond the Sand Dune Inn across the street. Since no one else was on the beach, Artie wasn’t on a leash, and he suddenly took off in a sprint toward Sydney’s deck. 

Heather shook her head. “What is that crazy dog doing now?” 

Artie raced toward the side of the porch, where a section of lattice was missing, and he barked into the space beneath it.

“There’s probably a critter under there,” Sydney said. “I told Jackie about the broken lattice a few weeks ago, but she hasn’t gotten around to fixing it.”

Artie poked his head under the porch, followed by the rest of his body, and continued yapping. “I’d better rescue him before he gets himself hurt,” Heather said, picking up her pace and heading toward the small frisky pup. But before she arrived, his barking turned to a whimper, and he backed out from beneath the porch.

Heather shrugged. “You sure gave me a strange dog.” Heather had adopted the Mal-Shi, which was a hybrid Maltese and Shih-Tzu, from Sydney a week ago, and now Artie acted like the master of two homes.

“I can’t argue with that. But he’s a precious little thing.” 

A wide smile swept across her face. “He sure is.” Heather tried to coax Artie up the steps of the wooden porch toward the glass sliding doors that led to Sydney’s living room, but Artie refused to follow. He tentatively returned to the opening in the lattice, stuck his head back underneath the porch, and let out a high-pitched bark that stopped the women in their tracks. 

“He sounds scared. I’d better go see what’s gotten him so riled up,” Heather said. She went over to the opening beneath the deck and laid on her stomach, so she could see underneath the porch. It didn’t take long to see what was upsetting Artie. Her eyes immediately focused on a spot of red sand. 

Next to the red spot was a pale, motionless body.

Heather grabbed Artie and fell back onto the sand, trembling from the shock. She held up her hand to try to dissuade Sydney from seeing the awful sight. But Sydney’s piercing shriek informed her that it was too late. And a loud thump told her that Sydney hit her head on the top of the deck while pulling herself out.

“Are you okay?” Heather asked, regaining the ability to speak.

“How can you ask about me right now? We should be worried about the doctor under the porch!”

“How do you know he’s a doctor?” Heather asked. “Do you know him?” 

“The whole town knows Dr. Zeke Farnsworth. He’s had a medical practice in Sand Dune Shores since I was a teenager.”