Touched by Death Read Online Free Page A

imagine you're safe enough."
    "You could have told me that before I went in
there thinking I was risking my life." Dane pulled over the second
wooden chair and sat down to enjoy the morning.
    "Nah, if I have to risk my life, you might as
well, too."
    "There's a brother for you." The two sat
in companionable silence. Dane marveled at a location where the weather
sat every day at a comfortable seventy-five to eighty degrees. He knew
it fluctuated sometimes, but during his stay it had been remarkably
consistent.
    Suddenly, Tasha stormed outside, the door slamming
behind her. Dane took one look at the building fury on her face, blinked
and turned slightly away. John was going to have to deal with this one.
    "They can't come. You tell them they can't do
this. It ain't right." She shifted into a spat of guttural Creole,
making Dane grateful for his less than rudimentary understanding of
the language.
    John closed his eyes briefly then opened them and
faced his Haitian wife while Dane looked on. "Now, honey. We've
been over this. Just because I say they can't come isn't going to stop
them."
    "Why not? That property is ours."
    "No, it's not." John's weary voice went
over ground that he had obviously covered many times. Dane took a sip
of coffee and tried not to show any interest. Tasha's black hair stood
on end; her face was puffy, her dark skin splotchy. Her large belly,
covered by an old stretched t-shirt that hung low, covered the bulk
of the goofy boxer shorts she wore. Dane had seen other pregnant women,
just none that reacted like Tasha. The longer he stayed, the more he
worried about his sister-in-law's mental and emotional health. John
never seemed to notice. Love had to be blind.
    "Honey, I've told you before. That land borders
the family land, but it's not ours."
    "It's land we've used since forever; it should
be ours." She pouted and collapsed on the arm of his chair beside
him, the tempest over for now. "We think of it as ours."
    John grinned and tugged her closer.
    "Except it isn't. I know you think it's wrong,
however you might want to try to see their point of view for a moment.
If that were your family thrown into a large pit in another country,
wouldn't you want to bring them home? Have a place where you could visit
them? Talk to them? Grieve for them?"
    She frowned. "I understand that. I'm not heartless.
I feel sorry for the family… I do. What about all the other people
buried there though? Some of them could be friends. Family. I don't
know who's buried there. I do know it's bad luck to wake the dead. We
need to honor their souls and let them rest."
    "Maybe we can do something for the other people,
too. And no one is talking about waking the dead. We're hoping to give
the dead – and the living – peace. We've gone over this. It's in
progress and we can't stop it."
    "I still want to."
    Dane buried his smile in his thick ceramic mug. She
sounded more like a truculent child now. He could see her point, but
his brother was right – the process had already started. By this
time next week, the grave would be open.
    She'd see then. Nothing bad would come of this.

CHAPTER THREE
    T he heat hit her first. She'd forgotten how strong
and heavy the air smelled. Being March, the humidity shouldn't be bad
until they were almost finished with the job here. Jade stepped out
of the airport in Port-au-Prince and walked the tarmac toward the waiting
vehicles. Now she almost wished her brother was beside her. But they'd
both decided it would be better if he came in a month or so.
    She took a deep breath. Christ. She was really here.
    There were seven team members. A smallish enough group
to get to know, but big enough they'd get the job done. Beside Bruce,
the leader, there was Dr. Mike a forensic anthropologist, but with more
degrees than she had herself, and Meg Stern. There were two other men
who would double as computer nerds and work at the gravesite. There
was a third female