Risen A Haunted Series novel by Alexie Aaron This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ~ Copyright 2017 – Diane L. Fitch writing as Alexie Aaron ALSO BY ALEXIE AARON HAUNTED SERIES in order The Hauntings of Cold Creek Hollow Ghostly Attachments Sand Trap PEEPs Lite Eternal Maze 3.1 PEEPs Lite Homecoming 3.2 Darker than Dark The Garden Puzzle Old Bones Things that Go Bump in the Night Something Old PEEPs Lite Checking Out 9.1 PEEPs Lite Ice and Steel 9.2 The Middle House: Return to Cold Creek Hollow Renovation Mind Fray The Siege NOLA Never Forget The Old House Restitution A Rose by Any Other Name The Long Game Given Enough Rope The Return Risen CID GARRETT P.I. SERIES Cid High Court Coming soon: Tiny Houses CIN FIN-LATHEN MYSTERIES Decomposing Death by Saxophone Discord The Wages of Cin Unforgivable Cin: An Opera in Three Acts I dedicate this book to my brother Steve Zaske. He loved books with action. He stressed that I should let my readers’ imaginations take hold instead of weighing a book down with too much description. I miss you, Steve. Although, I see you in so many of my characters that I sense, in some way, you have never left me. Table of Contents A Day at the Beach 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 Glossary Alexie Aaron A Day at the Beach The last shuttle from St. Kitts was filled. The swimmers settled in for a ride over to what was advertised as a Day at the Beach. In this case, it was a deserted beach on an uninhabited island. The cruise ship offered outings for the select few who could afford the additional service charge. Meanwhile, the others toured the island, and if they wanted to use the beach at St. Kitts, they would have to deal with the touristy atmosphere. This trip promised a secluded island that wasn’t even on the map. When pressed, the crew admitted that they weren’t sure what the island was called. “Let’s call it Hidden Island,” the EM, event manager, said. “I have an idea. Let’s name it when we return for the day.” There were nods and whispers of names ranging from the poetic to the erotic. The four boats moved swiftly through the water, following the wake of the catering boat which had gotten a late start. The small island which the cruise ships normally frequented was temporarily unavailable. A celebrity wedding was scheduled to take place on its sandy shore. A lot of money had crossed the hands of the governing authority, and the cruise companies were paid for their inconvenience. The parent company of the ship decided that it could use this as an opportunity for the ship to make more money. They directed the crew to find another island. Surely, there was some remote island on which they could spend the day. As long as the crew cleaned up the beach, no one would be the wiser. This was an opportunity to maybe discover another island, one that the government didn’t ask for remuneration to use. Event Manager Anders Larsen watched the crewman as he navigated around a few tiny outlying islands. As they approached the island, Anders started to feel the tension leave his body. He had no idea what they would find. The tip for this island came from a former mate who was now running a scuba-diving excursion franchise. The mate couldn’t vouch for whether the island had fresh water on it, but there were waterfalls on the north side, so he assumed that there must be water. “Test it first,” was all he said as he pocketed the finder’s fee. “I’ve never been on shore. We spend our time under the water on the sea side of the reef that circles the island, not tanning on the beach.” “What’s it called?” Anders asked. “I’m not really sure. Out here there are six names for every place. It depends who you ask.” Anders took this answer in stride. The Caribbean islands had had quite a few masters in their past. If the GPS got him to the island safely, then the name wasn’t necessary. After all, their normal swimming spot would be available the next time the ship docked at St. Kitts, if this one didn’t prove adequate. Departing the boat, Anders was amazed that this island hadn’t already been picked up by Sandals for an all-inclusive resort. The setup of a deep white sandy beach edged by tropical flowering plants was ideal for the hoteliers. Behind the flowers was a gradual rise of thick jungle, dotted with tall, swaying palm trees. “It must be owned by an eccentric or a shell corporation for future use,” Anders said. “I’m sorry, sir, were you talking to me?” the assistant chief caterer asked. Anders looked down at the pretty woman and shook his head. “No. I’m just pleased to find an island untouched by greed.” “It’s only a matter of time,” Sally said. “With television series showing that you too can own an island, some lottery winner will snap this gem up.” “You have a lot of faith in the lottery,” Anders commented. “It’s my retirement fund,” Sally said and walked away to direct her staff on
