Waltzing with an Echo
"Why do people choose to make their mark on the world with an ugly scar instead of a beautiful rainbow?”
When Native American artifacts become items of barter for sex trafficking, former FBI Agent Brad Walker is forced into a dark world that finds no value in the sacredness of history or dignity in human life. Only by listening to the echo of ancient voices within centuries-old cliff dwellings of New Mexico is he able to see a way out. Following a path of tragedy and death, Walker faces the very essence of evil in an encounter that is terrifying beyond anything he has ever before experienced.
Walker is also forced to deal with echoes that sound within his own heart as he reconciles the death of his wife and newly found love for a woman who is as mysterious as voices within the cliff dwellings.
Trout streams of the Rocky Mountains, grandeur of the Southwest and the art of listening to subtle voices become characters that transform repugnance to enchantment and horror to love.
Waltzing with an Echo is the third Brad Walker novel of suspense, following The Mirror in the River and Strangers, Lovers and the Winds of Time. Colorado Humanities, Center for the Book, selected Strangers, Lovers and the Winds of Time as a finalist for 2015 Colorado Book Award for Mystery.
“He marveled at how time and space seemed inseparable in New Mexico.”
“Brad could practically hear the hot gasps that would have been sucked beneath that hood. He could feel how pulse would have thundered as the rope cinched about his neck and the quivering that must have stricken the knees, with the brink of eternity only seconds away.”
Lobby of the St. James Hotel in Cimarron, New Mexico and sign warning of rules to be obeyed. Photograph by author.
“Brad drove to what he knew had been the very heart of Cimarron’s lawless heyday, the St. James Hotel. Bullet holes in its walls and ceilings bore testament that the hotel had served as overnight respite for both the most famous of outlaws as well as legendary lawmen.”
“Caves dotted the wall, their mouths yawning open to expose blackened ceilings that told of the fires that had once burned within.”
“Approaching the ancient tower of ash that had once spewed fire and molten rocks for hundreds of miles, he again felt a sense of insignificance within the staggering landscape.”
“Evening breeze stirred. Little more than a delicate breath, it carried just enough strength to send blades of the windmill into rotation. Pumping mechanisms began to move, up down, up down …. Cooling breeze of evening, cascading water and man-made machinery came together in easy stride, becoming a perfectly pitched musical instrument.”