Digger's Bones

By Paul Mansfield Keefe

Archaeologist Angie Cooper's colleague and friend, Tarek "Digger" Rashid, is murdered in front of her. But not before giving her cryptic photographic clues to a hidden tomb and the two thousand year old bones within. Caught in a web of lies, deceit, and betrayal, Angie works to unravel the secret of Digger's bones.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Mansfield Keefe
• Release date: Dec 1, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452388458

Paul Mansfield Keefe

Paul Mansfield Keefe was born in Lowell, Massachusetts and grew up in Manchester, New Hampshire. He worked as a multimedia artist and programmer for non-profits and corporations creating websites and applications since the early years of the Internet. Music and animation led him to realize his story telling talents could best be put to use in writing novels. Digger's Bones, the first book in the Angie Cooper Series, is his first novel.

Book preview

Digger's

Bones

Paul Mansfield Keefe

Copyright © 2010 by Paul Mansfield Keefe

All rights reserved.

Published by Paul Mansfield Keefe at Smashwords

www.paulkeefe.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either 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.

ISBN: 978-1-4523-8845-8

Prologue

Professor Rothschild found it hard to concentrate. Soon he would unveil his secret to the world. Bones that lay hidden for two thousand years. It was the discovery of a lifetime, a discovery that would rock the foundations of history, religion, and society itself.

Professor Rothschild? a voice called out.

Yes?

The professor grunted as he reached out with a fine pointed artist’s paint brush. He lay upon his stomach within the large room of the tumulus, an ancient tomb, brushing dirt aside as gingerly as he was able. His khaki vest and pants faded into the sand colored ground.

"Professor Stanley Rothschild?"

Yes, yes . . . I’m quite busy.

Don’t worry, said the stranger. I’ve come to help. I’ve brought a shovel.

I don’t need a—

The clank of the shovel brought silence to the dig.

Chapter 1

Angie Cooper dragged herself out from beneath the warmth of her down comforter with great reluctance. The house felt cold, especially for Pennsylvania in June. Her rose print pajamas were twisted and bunched up around her waist and she left them that way, tripping her way across the clothing strewn floor headed to the bathroom down the hall.

The master bedroom and its en suite bathroom collected dust as Angie slept in the room where she spent much of her childhood and trudged her way to the hallway bathroom instead.

Brooding in the mirror she thought, Why am I such a loser? Her brows furrowed over her pale blue eyes. Four years out of Columbia and she was writing human interest fluff for the Pocono Record, the local newspaper. A double major in archaeology and anthropology flushed down the john, along with her dreams of a fulfilling career.

Her clear acrylic hairbrush made prisms dance on the wall, which she ignored like so many tiny rainbows vying for her attention. Instead she concentrated on untangling strands of her shoulder-length ginger-blonde hair that wove in and out like misery through her life. The blame for her failed career was clearly on her shoulders and she wanted to smash the mirror until glass slivers rained down into the sink.

You’re an idiot, Angela Cooper, she said, putting down her brush and staring deep into her own eyes. "Anasazi . . . damn it! You know better than that."

The phone’s shrill ring distracted her from her depressing reverie. She listened for a few moments before dashing down the hall. It had been nearly two years and yet she still hesitated as if her mother might call out, I’ll get it.

Pushing aside the National Geographic with the Mayan ruins on the cover from her nightstand, she lifted the receiver of her pink, circa 1985, princess phone.

Hello?

Angie?

Digger, is that you?

Thank God . . . thank God, holy shit—

Tarek Digger Rashid, her best and perhaps only friend left in the world of archaeology. She hadn’t heard from him in at least a year, a very long time for him to be out of touch. They were students at Columbia on their first real dig when they met. They hit it off immediately. Digger’s quirky sense of humor kept Angie from becoming too overly serious, she helped him to buckle down and do some of his best work. From then on when Digger found work, so did Angie. They worked digs as a team and gained in reputation by doing so. That was until she screwed it up.

Angie sat down on the bed and uncurled the phone cord with her free hand. Digger, what’s wrong?

Angie, listen to me, Digger said, I need you to come to Washington.

Washington—?

"Yeah, I need you to come today. I have to talk to you, it’s urgent."

After a year out of touch Angie wondered what could be so urgent that Digger would need her to fly to Washington without notice; something was definitely awry. Digger, what’s going on?

Meet me at the CityZen, 6:00 . . . please be there Angie. He hung up.

Angie made reservations at the Willard InterContinental, her favorite D.C. hotel. She packed enough clothes for a couple of days not sure what Digger had in mind. Fantasies of ceremonial clay pots and hidden chambers played in her mind’s eye, but she knew in her heart those days were over. Besides, Digger’s tone was upsetting and she wondered if he had made some sort of career ending mistake, not unlike herself. Still, her boots and khakis made their way into her suitcase, just in case.

~

The wall of wine, the heavy granite pillars reflected in the stone and wood floors, the cathedral-high ceilings, all added to the CityZen’s light and lively atmosphere. Angie slowly sipped her Apple Martini she ordered while waiting for Digger. She looked good, all five-feet-four-inches of her, dressed in a silky short black skirt—designed to show off her athletic shape—and a classic red v-neck sweater. She hadn’t worn two inch high heel sandals since college; they felt good dangling from her feet.

She almost sat at the bar, more to be seen than anything, but the stools just seemed a bit too high. So instead she sat at a table in the back that had a wonderful view of the place. A smile found its way to her lips for the first time in what seemed like years. That’s when she saw Digger moving quickly across the room, his usual neatly combed black hair tousled, his clothes and jacket in disarray, a Manila folder with its contents spilling out pressed tightly to his chest.

Digger—

Professor Rothschild’s dead.

What—?

There isn’t much time, he said as he sat down across from her. Just listen carefully. He looked back over his shoulder as if he were expecting someone to be following him.

You’re scaring me, Digger. Angie whispered, seeing the tension in his jaw from his tightly clenched teeth.

"Just listen. Remember the kiva at Bandelier? He continued without waiting for her to answer. The spot in the wall where we found the hidey-hole? You need to go—"

Suddenly, a thin man wearing a dark blue Armani suit, a blue shirt with its collar unbuttoned, and expensive looking loafers, sat down beside Digger. Digger leaned back pulling the folder closer to his chest, desperation in his eyes. The man’s arms were crossed, his left hand within his jacket, the other holding the opposite elbow. He smiled at Angie, a broad smile that didn’t hide his arrogance. His tufted white hair and black eyes made him look like some sort of bird, a predatory bird.

Tarek, who’s your lovely friend? The man asked as his eyes moved up along Angie’s body.

"She has nothing to do with this."

Is that right? he asked, staring at Angie, his right foot bouncing against his crossed leg.

Do with what? Angie asked indignantly. "Who the hell are you?"

He twisted his head toward Digger. She’s got fire. I can see why you’d bring it to her.

"Bring what to me—?"

Even in the boisterous CityZen Angie heard the faint pfffaat of the man’s silencer. It was a sound she was entirely unfamiliar with. She didn’t put it together until she realized Digger’s head had fallen back and to the side and the man was relieving him of his folder. Still, it took catching a glimpse of his pistol before real terror set in.

So . . . what were you two chatting about? he asked.

Angie trembled, words caught in her throat as she labored for breath.

He smiled his arrogant smile, baring his teeth at her. He lifted his hand, covered by the Manila folder, onto the table. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. Her breathing became rapid, nearly out of control.

I suppose it’s not important really, he was saying, I know as much as I need to.

Is he okay? A waiter carrying a tray of drinks startled the gunman. He turned quickly to see who had spoken. Angie took it as a cue to make her escape. She stood, stumbling on a chair, knocking into the waiter, the drinks crashing down upon the table and the gunman. The waiter falling against the table caused the candle to ignite the alcohol. The gunman’s sleeve burst into flames. Angie ran for the door. People began screaming hysterically. An enormous mirror crashed to the ground as she passed; she didn’t hear the muffled shot over the din of the fleeing crowd.

Angie was out the door and into a cab before she could quite grasp what had happened. A throng of patrons erupted from the CityZen in panicked terror. She peered out the back window to glimpse the gunman emerging from the building, crushed by the frenzied wave of people, his predatory eyes following the cab as it sped down the street.

Chapter 2

Fortunately the bathroom was close enough to the door that Angie was able to make it to the toilet before vomiting. Her hands shook as she held tight to the porcelain. When she had nothing left she scurried into a corner and held her head in her hands, shutting her eyes hard against the ruthless world outside. She pounded her feet against the cold tile floor and bit her hand hard to keep from screaming, screaming to heaven of unimaginable despair. Her best friend, blood pouring from his chest, scorched forever across her eyes.

"No, no, no . . . ," she cried out, as if saying the words aloud could wash away the terrifying reality of it.

But it could not.

Anguish tore at her. Her best friend murdered right in front of her. She barely escapes with her own life. Once again, Angie’s prospects for a career in her chosen field dashed in the most horrific of ways. Emotions held sway over her, but her analytical mind called to her, pushing her to review the facts. Digger phoned her, sounding agitated. They meet at a restaurant where he rushes in clutching a folder full of documents. A killer takes his life without hesitation—like Angie imagined a professional might do—and snatches the folder.

Bandelier suddenly popped into her head. The hidey-hole! Something had been left there for her. He hadn’t had the chance to explain what it was, but he was obviously trying to pass it on to someone he trusted. He trusted Angie. She would have to go, go to New Mexico and retrieve what Digger left her at the top of Bandelier.

Angie swallowed hard, trying her best not to picture the vertical cliffs of Bandelier. The white haired killer appeared to her and she realized she may no longer be safe here at the Willard. What if he had somehow followed her? No, she was sure she had gotten away from him. But what if she were wrong? He was a pro, after all.

Angie packed quickly, uncharacteristically leaving her room in disarray. The woman at the desk was slow, asking a barrage of questions—why would she leave so late in the evening, was she unhappy with her room? After skirting the woman’s interrogation, Angie was into a limo and on her way to the airport.

The events of the day happened so quickly she felt numb. But Digger’s murder pulled at her, his desperate eyes called out to her. Tears overtook her and she sobbed loudly. Her dearest friend, the one guy she could always count on, gone in a heartbeat. And why? What had Digger unearthed that was so important?

Arriving at the airport the limo driver tried to appear as if he hadn’t noticed her tears, yet smiled reassuringly at her.

After receiving her ticket she passed through security; glad to be on the other side. A quick tour of the bookstore and she was soon engrossed in a lettered Sue Grafton novel, a tool to keep from focusing on her own tragic day.

The television in the waiting area at Angie’s gate showed a familiar scene: the CityZen. An EMT was speaking to a reporter about the body that they had just taken out of the restaurant. . . . definitely a bullet wound, he was saying, I can’t tell you much more. You’ll need to speak to the police. Police were everywhere; the reporter had no trouble tracking one down who wished to be interviewed on live television. Yes, he answered the reporter’s question, there’s a picture of the guy who allegedly did the shooting taken from a patron’s cell phone. The reporter was off again, this time in search of a young man with a cell phone.

Flight 783 to Albuquerque was called and she slowly made her way to the line, never taking her eyes off the television monitor. Her heart beat loudly and she forced herself to breath more slowly.

Once the police were done speaking with John Yung, the young man with the cell phone, the reporter got her chance. Yung sent the photo via email directly to the Channel 5 News Room where it almost instantly appeared on screen. There he was, his white dyed hair, expensive loafers, and blue Armani suit. Flames rose up from his arm and obscuring his face; it would be impossible to identify him. Yung told the reporter that he was going to take a second snapshot but, after seeing a gun holstered beneath the man’s jacket, thought better of it. There was also a mention of a woman who ran out of the restaurant and a short description of her given by a waiter—a very accurate description.

Angie sat low in her seat on the plane, worrying that at any moment she’d be arrested. Or worse yet a white haired man with an arrogant smile would sit down beside her. Neither came to pass. Before she knew it the plane was moving down the runway. The earth slipped away beneath her and she was finally able to breathe a little easier. She stared out the tiny pock-marked window, sadness tearing at her heart, as she flew across the starless sky. She remembered the wonderful times she had spent with Digger. And, although she wished she could put it out of her mind, she relived the horrors that ended that part of her life.

It was hotter than hell. Digger spent the day trying to get her to laugh; she spent the day overly serious about the next big discovery—a typical Arizona dig. Two miles outside of Hoi Oidak off of Indian Route 34, literally the middle of nowhere, a dig of no real consequence. The Pascua Yaqui tribe told the story of how they had come to live in the area to Professor Rothschild. Rothschild set up a small dig where some clay pots had been found. Dr. Lausen was brought in to run the dig and Angie and Digger to lend a hand.

Angie was the first to come upon the body, a child dressed in unusual clothing for a Yaqui. That was the main reason she had taken ownership of the find. Angie dated the bone fragments to around 600 A.D., the period of the Basket Makers, an Anasazi epoch. The child was found in a cist, a sort of storage bin common to the Anasazi. To Angie’s mind even the clothing of the child pointed toward her Anasazi heritage.

Dr. Lausen and Professor Rothschild asked Angie to give it more time before publishing her findings to be sure she had all her ducks in a row. What’s a few days compared to the many years these bones have waited? the professor had asked. But she couldn’t wait. Making a name for herself had been an overwhelming obsession and the pressure to be successful, to follow in her father’s footsteps, pushed her relentlessly forward.

She made her announcement and the world of archaeologist tumbled into their dig. They were careful, methodical, and thorough. It wasn’t long before they had proof that Angie had made a colossal mistake. The time period she had given was way off. The clothes were irregular, yes, but dyed in the same pigments used by the Yaquis. And the earth, the earth told the true story. The dugout walls of her make-shift burial plot were not from the time of the Basket Makers. The child was definitely not Anasazi.

Angie was devastated. She was the laughing stock of the archaeology world. A rookie mistake, the type most any college freshman would have picked up on. Dr. Lausen tried to convince her it was just a temporary setback, but she couldn’t accept it. She had been badly embarrassed and so she let her bruised ego make her decision for her—she quit.

Her career ruined, she moved home to live with her mother and took up a job writing for the local newspaper, The Pocono Record. She only meant it to be a temporary gig. Then her mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. A strong woman, raised Angie by herself since the age of 5, but cancer was that much stronger. After nearly thirty years without a cigarette her mother still succumbed quickly to the deadly disease. Doctors told Angie if it had been caught earlier . . . but that only added to the pain.

Her mother gone she was alone and she sunk deep into despair. Digger was the only one that stood by her during her very public failure and her subsequent depression. He put his own career at risk and remained loyal to her long after, visiting her whenever he had a spare weekend. When her mother’s casket was finally laid in the ground, Digger was there. And that meant a lot to Angie. He had become family.

Writing for a local paper wasn’t so bad; there were certainly worse fates she kept telling herself. But she had been at her temporary job nearly two years now, writing fluff about cats caught up in trees and the like. Heartbroken, she’d wanted desperately to bury the memory of those wonderful days digging in the hot desert sun but knew she never could. It was in her blood.

Setting down on the Albuquerque International Sunport runway Angie thought about how much her life had been changed by the day’s events. Not because of her foolish mistake at Hoi Oidak, but because her one true friend had died coming to her for help. Whatever sort of trouble he was in, he was depending on her. The thought strengthened her resolve. No matter what it took, no matter what odds she might face, she vowed to see this thing through to the end. She wouldn’t step away from the one friend who believed in her even when she didn’t, the one friend that loved her even when she couldn’t.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and got off the plane.

Making her way out of the airport she got into a cab headed for Santa Fe and the La Fonda Hotel where she would stay the night before traveling up to Bandelier.

Dinner at La Plazuela, the La Fonda’s restaurant, did nothing for Angie’s attitude—far too much burdened her. She strolled the walkway outside of the Palace of the Governors where a myriad of tourists bought souvenirs from the local Indians. Her tan linen pants and washed out red linen blouse blended with the adobe walls of the 17th century architecture and kept her cool in the night’s heat. The building was once the Spanish seat of government for all of the Southwest, today it stands as a history museum and National Historic Landmark.

Angie crossed the plaza and purchased a pair of light-weight leather sandals in one of Santa Fe’s many tourist shops. Southwest-chic-cowgirl is how she would have described the clothes in the window that drew her in the door. She placed her running shoes into the store bag and wore the sandals out. Walking back towards her hotel she flipped open her cell phone, found the number she knew she would have to call—the one number she hadn’t called in many years—and, with a resolute sigh, pressed send.

Hello? Dr. Lausen speaking.

Angie was silent on the other end.

Angie?

She had forgotten about caller ID.

Yes . . . Dr. Lausen . . . ah, it’s me.

Good God! Are you alright? I saw what happened to Digger, poor son-of-a-bitch. I was afraid the description the news gave was of you.

It was.

Holy . . . are you okay?

Yes, I’m fine, she said, her voice cracked and a new tear found its way to her cheek.

What the hell happened, Angie?

Angie wasn’t sure where to begin. She wasn’t sure she really knew what had happened, it was all so fast, all so unbelievable. She told Lausen everything she could remember from the time Digger called her to her running from a hitman. She could barely finish her story as the emotions washed over her in waves.

Alright, alright . . . it’s not your fault, Angie.

I know, she said, not sure she quite believed it.

We need to think this thing through.

Silence, except for Angie’s sniffles, followed for quite some time. Finally, Angie spoke, I’m not sure there is much else we can do but look for what Digger left me.

"Yes, you’re right of course. I’ve no idea what he’s working on . . . ah, was working on. He was always so damn secretive, he and Rothschild both. I can’t believe Rothschild’s dead. Damn, we need to figure out where they were digging and what they were looking for. I’ll call some people and get back to you tomorrow. Dr. Christopher Lausen, her professor and mentor at Columbia, would come to her rescue, just as he had done so many times during her college years. But first you need to get to New Mexico—"

I’m here now, Doc.

Great, wonderful, see if you can find what Digger left and then come out to my house. He paused for a moment and added, And Angie, I’m sorry about Digger.

I know. Me too.

Oh, and Angie? Lausen said, not waiting for a response. That whole thing back at Hoi Oidak. It really wasn’t your fault. If anything, I blame myself. I wasn’t hard enough on you. I—

Those days are past, Doc, she interrupted. Besides, it looks like I’m on my next dig. She gave a half-hearted laugh before saying goodbye.

~

This was all he had on him? He tossed the blood stained folder onto his desk.

Except for his cell.

Good, then we’re done with it.

There was a girl at the restaurant—

What girl? Did he speak with her?

Yes, she was at his table when I arrived.

Jesus Christ, Tek, did you take care of her?

The girl was an unknown. I believe he was trying to pass information to her. He had the documents with him . . . . Tek looked down at his feet, defeated, No, she got away.

Senator Pierson, his ice-blue eyes red with fury, stared down at Tek.

"What the fuck am I paying you for? A simple job, Rothschild and Rashid, how could you possibly mess that up?"

The

Reviews for Digger's Bones

[darcia_10 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Some archeological finds can have an enormous impact on the world. Is there ever a time when those finds should be kept from the public? Angie Cooper is faced with this dilemma. Along the way, she is sucked into a world of conspiracy and deceit that threatens much of what she thought she knew about herself, her friends and the world.Digger's Bones is a fast-paced adventure. The biblical and historical facts interspersed throughout are well-researched and give a realistic feel to the story. This book has a fascinating premise and would be perfect for a reading/discussion group.

[lrugg1224-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

If you loved The DaVinci Code you will want to read this amazing first novel by author Paul Keefe. Main character Angie Cooper, archeologist/detective extraordinaire, is one tough, stubborn and independent woman in this highly suspenseful action adventure story. Mr. Keefe has also centered the story around a plausible archeological find that could change world history and religious beliefs. Angie finds herself being pursued by a hit man working for a U.S. senator as well as a religious lunatic on a mission to save the Catholic church. She must outrun and outwit the two men as well as try to solve the mysterious clues to the archeological discovery her beloved friends were working on before being brutally murdered. She gets a little help from her friends along the way, resulting in a trip to Jerusalem, Germany and Washington, D.C. Mr. Keefe has included every story element one could wish for with suspense, intrigue, detective work, romance, surprising plot twists, scientific and religious historical background and well-developed characters. This is certainly a worthy debut for this new author and I hope we will see much more of Angie Cooper in upcoming novels.

[mariasavva_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A very impressive debut novel. Digger’s Bones is a thriller with substance. Angie Cooper is a failed archaeologist; having wanted nothing more than to pursue her lifelong dream to follow in her father’s footsteps and become an accomplished archaeologist, she destroys her career by being too impulsive and making a huge mistake.We meet Angie at her lowest ebb, she has lost touch with her friends, her career has ended and she has also recently lost her mother. Her father died when she was a child and she still harbours feeling she associates with guilt over his death and experiences recurring nightmares.Out of the blue, her old friend, Tarek ‘Digger’ Rashid, contacts her, asking her to meet him. At their meeting, in a restaurant, he advises her that a former colleague of theirs, Professor Rothschild, is dead. Then, a strange man joins them at the table, and kills Digger; taking away the Manila folder that Digger had brought with him.Angie is left reeling; two of her colleagues are dead and someone is evidently keen to stop some information being disclosed. Professor Rothschild and Digger had obviously unearthed an important archaeological find. Digger’s last words to her were that she should revisit a place they had been together, Bandelier, New Mexico, and look in a hidey-hole. Angie knew that he must have left something there for her to find, something with implications so huge that people were prepared to kill to prevent the word getting out.Digger was the only one who’d stood by Angie when her career was falling apart and had always been there for her. Even though she knows she will be risking her own life, she is determined to find out what Digger had wanted to tell her.In the hidey-hole, Angie finds a flash drive containing photographs which appear to hold clues to the mystery. Angie knew that Professor Rothschild had a theory that Judas’s bones were somewhere in the holy land and he wanted to find them. Perhaps he had? Fans of Dan Brown’s books will find more religious controversy to whet their appetites within these pages.We follow Angie on her travels to locate Digger’s bones. She is ruthlessly pursued by the strange man from the restaurant, who she now knows is called ‘Tek’. But he is not the only one who wants to stop her uncovering the secret. Many people associated with Digger’s bones are being killed. But who is the killer?As she embarks on her search for the bones, Angie is reunited with her former lover, Reilly, and for a time it seems that her life may be getting back on track; perhaps if she discovers the bones, she could get back to her work as an archaeologist and be taken seriously again? But even Reilly is reluctant to help her in her search when the going gets tough.There is a lot of edge-of-your-seat action in this book as Angie is forced to run for her life on more than a couple of occasions. The action scenes are well written and compulsive, and this complex story is crafted with skill. There is a lot of historical information in the book, showing that it was well-researched.All the characters are believable, and I was especially impressed by the character of Angie Cooper whose emotions and thoughts were so realistic as those from a female perspective.This book contains action, adventure, mystery and romance. Angie’s character is particularly well-developed as she tries to deal with her emotional baggage in regard to her father’s death. The subjects of regret, guilt and forgiveness are dealt with well by the author.There are enough twists and turns and unexpected discoveries in this book to keep the reader enthralled to the end. A very enjoyable read.Reviewed by Maria Savva as a reviewer for Bookpleasures.com

[wrighton9time · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Article first published as Book Review: Digger's Bones by Paul Mansfield Keefe on Blogcritics.Tarek Rashid (Digger) is Angie’s best friend. He is the only one of her colleagues that stood by her in the aftermath of a career ending decision. Angie published her findings before completing all the work only to find that her information was incorrect Angie is shattered, her world has collapsed, and she leaves behind archeology, her life long dream.While Angie Cooper is finishing her fluff piece for the paper, her new job, she receives a call unexpectedly from Digger. He is frantic and it is important that they meet.As they sit across from each other, Angie notices that Digger is not himself, he continues to glance around frantically as he tells her that not only has one of her other colleagues, Professor Rothchild, been murdered, but he has what is the find of a life time. He will need her help. As he is talking, a well-dressed man in a business suit sits next to Digger at the table. The man, after asking him what he has told Angie so far, pulls out a gun and shoots Digger in the head.Initially paralyzed with fear, Angie breaks away, running for her life, horrified at what she has just witnessed. The information that Digger has shared sounds unreal, and makes no sense. The Bones that he and Professor Rothchild have uncovered hold the clues to the murders of these two men. Angie makes a decision to follow up on Diggers clues and solve the mystery of the murder as well as the mystery of the bones.Little does she know that the decision she has made will lead her into a past that will shake the very foundation of the religious world, as we know it. The information will lead her into a world of fear and death, betrayal and disbelief, but it will also heal a part of her that she thought bruised beyond all hope.In Diggers Bones, Paul Mansfield Keefe has brought to life a possibility of epic proportions. Keefe has written a story that is well researched, and just unbelievable enough to be believable. As Angie and her friends find each of the clues, set up almost as an old-fashioned scavenger hunt, Angie herself appears to be the target of a maniac. She escapes death at every turn, and it appears that there are at least two different factions interested in keeping them from finding Digger Bones. She is a very flawed individual and yet she is endearing, she makes mistakes but has such a deep level of trust you really root for her, and yet you know that one of those closest to her is a betrayer. She will have to dig deep within herself to find the answers to every thing that has lead her to this pass. She will have to leave behind that past in order to move forward and we are there, through this book, for the journey.Their adversaries seem to be able to track their every move, and they need to understand how this is happening. They have no idea in advance where the next clue will lead them. Is there a traitor in their midst?As Angie struggles to bring the information to light, there are those just as determined to bury the truth. Angie struggles to find the correct way to make the truth known and what she finds is that not only has Digger left her the clues, but he has also left her the answers to the very heart of the discovery. Is it right to bring information into the world that could damage the very structure of what makes the governments of the world? Digger’s answer through his clues, offers the only solution viable.Diggers Bones is a roller coaster of emotion, this story is full of surprises and the ending is no different. The epilogue was an exciting addition to the story and drew it all together. You will learn to love many of the characters, and take a personal stake in the outcome of their adventure.I would recommend this book to anyone who loves a great adventure, but I also believe that a book club or reading group would find a great deal of different and interesting, and possibly controversial information to talk about.This book was received as a free e-book from the Author. All opinions expressed are my own based off my reading and understanding of the information.