Bury Me Deep

Prologue

MARIS

They say a lot of things in Vesper Point. Always throw salt over your shoulder if you spill, if you hear the twelve bells ring at night, shut your doors and windows. And if you walk the beach at high tide at midnight, you might see the heartbroken ghost of a sailor’s widow walk into the dark waves.

All of these are wives’ tales.

And none of them compare to what they say about me. It’s not a superstition or something the locals say to scare their kids into acting right when company’s over. What they say about me is the truth.

The people of Vesper Point say I’m a murderer.

A killer.

My name is Maris Martinez and for as long as anyone can remember my family has lived and died in Vesper Point.

Generations of Martinez’s have worked the frigid waters and built this town brick by brick.

We’re one of the oldest families to settle in this area.

But for as many of my family that have bled, sweat, and been buried in the six square miles of Vesper Point, there has never been a killer.

I’m the only one.

The first.

God willing, I’ll be the last.