Sam Deland tried not to bring his work home with him. He didn’t get much time with his seventeen year old son and tried to make the best of it. But the horrible murders of a small town retired couple were unsolved, so far, and he tried to put the mystery straight in his cop’s brain.

The editors have it. The cover art people are working their magic.  From my soon to be released novel, SINK RATE:

…Sam got on the aircraft radio, “Ken, watch your sink rate! You’ve got about three minutes to pattern altitude. Forget finding a thermal, find a field and get started setting up. Give me landmarks so I can find you, you’re off course,” Sam was all business. He got out his binoculars and tried to find the sailplane.

Ken started checking off ground features he could make out. He finally saw the lake and the power lines. Sam checked the air chart on the hood of the Pathfinder and figured out about where Ken was.

Ken’s voice snapped on the radio, “Looks like two fields separated by a tree line. I can put it in either one. Vario’s settled at three hundred down and I’m at 1700 feet. Go south then west at the white barn you’ll see woods, then an opening. That’s the two fields.”

 Sam radioed back, “Wind is from the southwest at ten to fifteen, have a good landing. Keep calling once you’re down, I’ll find you.”…

“Just when you think everything couldn’t be going better, the bottom falls out. Taught me something all right,” Ken said and saw that his dad was staring out over the corn field. “What is it? You see something?”

Sam realized he was thinking about how Patrick and Ginny McFadden must have been sure they were doing just fine and had everything under control last week, before their bottom fell out from under them.

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