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Indivisible: A Novel
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1583564 |
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Item description for Indivisible: A Novel by Kristen Heitzmann...
Overview
Police Chief Jonah Westfall investigates when two raccoons are found mutilated in Redford, Colorado, hoping to stop the crimes before they escalate, as he faces problems of his own and drug trafficking in the town.
Publishers Description
An inseparable bond.
An insatiable force.
Battling his own personal demons, Police Chief Jonah Westfall knows the dark side of life and has committed himself to eradicating it. When a pair of raccoons are found mutilated in Redford, Colorado, Jonah investigates the gruesome act, knowing the strange event could escalate and destroy the tranquility of his small mountain town. With a rising drug threat and never-ending conflict with Tia Manning, a formidable childhood friend with whom he has more than a passing history, Jonah fights for answers—and his fragile sobriety.
But he can’t penetrate every wound or secret—especially one fueled by a love and guilt teetering on madness.
From best-selling author Kristen Heitzmann comes a spellbinding tale of severed connections and the consequences of life lived alone.
Follow Kristen Heitzmann online at www.KristenHeitzmann.net.
While home schooling her four kids, Kristen Heitzmann wrote her first novel. It became one of a five book historical series. Since then, she has written three more historical novels and eight contemporary romantic and psychological suspense novels including The Still of Night, nominated for the Colorado Book Award, The Tender Vine, a Christy Award finalist and Christy Award winning Secrets. She lives in Colorado with her husband Jim, sundry family members, and pets.
Follow Kristen online at www.KristenHeitzmann.com
One
What therefore God hath joined together,
let not man put asunder.
—MARK 10:9, KING JAMES VERSION
Wrapped in a woolen throw, Jonah stared out through moon-silvered evergreen spires. He drew in the clean, sharp air of the rugged mountains, the piercing stars visible to an amazing depth, the sickle moon casting the clearing in stark relief. He had not expected
to sleep—didn’t dare with memories tugging so hard. He shut his eyes and let the night enclose him. The chilled tip of his nose stung as he breathed the piquant scents of wild grasses, earth, and pine, a heady overlay with a hint of moisture condensing in the cold and dark.
The beam above moaned with the motion of the porch swing, a rhythmic counterpart to the rushing creek out of sight in the dark except for flashes of white where water struck rock. He felt something brush against his hand and looked down. A white, powdery moth fluttered at the lighted face of his watch. The fluffy whoosh of an owl passed, a silent shadow in search of a small, beating heart.
His pulse made a low throb in his ears. He moved the breath in and out through his lungs, filling his senses easier than stilling the thoughts. Somewhere in the rocky crags a coyote yipped, one of the few predators that had enlarged its range in spite of human encroachment, a bold and canny cohabiter, bearing ever bolder offspring. A long howl sailed into the night, a territorial declaration, signaling roving males to stay away, any females to come hither. He pressed up from the swing and leaned on the rail, trying to get a bead on the coyote’s location. After a time, he turned and went inside.
Piper loved morning, the brightness, the cleanness of a new day. But morning started with the sunrise, not when the sky was still black and the room shivery. She burrowed her feet deeper beneath the down comforter, avoiding the inevitable for one more moment. It was too brief a moment. She crabbed her hand across the lace-covered bed stand and stopped the alarm on the cell phone before it could nag her. She would do her own nagging, as she had ever since she’d realized no one else intended to. Not that they didn’t care, just that she was on her own when it came to responsibility, reliability, accountability.
She groomed, and dressed without shedding the film of sleep. Just a few years ago she could have slept all day—if she’d let herself. She slipped on her jacket and turned up the collar, switched on the iPod in her pocket and inserted the ear buds. Enya’s “OnlyTime” accompanied her out the door.
The first gasp of cold air pierced her fog. She drew a flashlight from the other pocket and trudged behind the beam down the steep path, weaving through the pines. Even August nights lost the days’ warmth to the thin mountain atmosphere, which the sun would heat once again. Streaks of deep magenta broke through the black tree silhouettes, announcing dawn, but around her, darkness clung. Over the music, she detected the rushing of Kicking Horse Creek, which paralleled the main street through Old Town. Neither dark and muddy nor sluggish and green, the creek ran frothy white and clear down to the rocky bed.
She couldn’t see it from the path even if the sun were up, but its voice carried up the stony crags as she picked her way down the steepest stretch of the path. Her nostrils constricted. She slapped a hand to her mouth and nose to block a putrid scent carried on the sharp air. She swung her light, and the beam caught a furry mound of carnage. She hurried past, gagging. The path ended behind the Half Moon, but she continued on to the next door, unlocked the bakery, and let herself into Sarge’s kitchen. Soon, warm, yeasty aromas tinged with almond, vanilla, and cinnamon banished the dead animal stench in her nostrils. She had memorized the recipes the first week, easy enough as Sarge had served the same eight things since opening the bakery thirty years ago. After twenty years in army kitchens, he saw no need for variety in the mess. She hadn’t baked before, but she’d taken to it, and with a little freedom, the slightest leeway, she might shine. But three weeks into the job, she had yet to sneak a variation by Sarge or convince him to feature anything not indelibly written on the dusty menu board.
She lifted and folded the dough over the plump, rum-soaked raisins, tucking them in like well-fed babies under a fluffy blanket, then put them to bed in the nice warm oven. Down for their nap, just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. Sweet little raisin rolls, just the way Sarge liked them.
She closed the oven, moved to the other end of the counter, and checked the measuring cup in which she had sprinkled yeast over warm water and whisked in sour cream and sugar. Cutting together flour, butter, and salt, she glanced quickly toward the door. No Sarge yet.
She combined the ingredients to make a coarse dough that when properly rolled and folded should bake into lovely light croissants—not something Sarge could envision. The back door banged. He came in, hung his red plaid coat on the hook, and turned his head like a vulture’s on the end of his question-mark spine. She did hurt for him. The photo
in the front of the store showed a strong, military physique. It couldn’t be easy to curl up like a lemon rind in the sun.
“Good morning, Sarge.”
“Humph.” His sunken eyes peered down his long bulbous nose. Lucky he had rank or his moniker might have been Beak. Or Gonzo. Sarge fit, although he didn’t look capable of any spit-flecked rants today. Lately his pain had been bad enough to reduce the rages to sarcastic skirmishes of parleyed insults she could swear he enjoyed. She’d even imagined
a glimmer of relief, once or twice, that she was there.
“Are those the currant scones?”
“Already baking. The rolls too.”
He toddled toward her, hands bent at his chest like a bald eaglet just
out of the egg. He scowled. “What is it this time?”
She checked her surprise. “Gruyère and sun-dried tomato croissants.”
“Not in my store.” He pushed through the swinging door to the front. She stared after him. Progress. He’d asked what she was making, not accused her of stealing the ingredients.
Breathing the honey scent of beeswax, Tia lowered the candles into the clear amber liquid, curbing her natural impatience. Any pause or jerk would leave a flaw each ensuing dip would reinforce. She worked hard to keep her hand steady. Dipping tapers had trained her in self-control better than any scolding instructor.
She raised the wooden bar looped with six double wicks. As soon as the air touched the wax, it paled to ocher. She fitted the bar onto the side braces to cool the tapers before lowering them again, each plunge having the potential to reclaim with greedy heat what solidity the cool air had bestowed. The life metaphor struck her again. The destructive power of pain; the strength of endurance. She would give them all they needed to stand strong, even though their fate was to burn away, the glow and aroma of their passing a benediction.
A knock brought her out of her thoughts, and she wended through the dim shop where little by little she had replaced the former knickknacks with candles, scented oils, and hand-thrown melting pots. She looked around, satisfied that nothing she saw was made in China. “Just a sec,” she called through the door, tangling with the keys since she hadn’t opened yet.
“Try this.” Piper raised the drooping croissant. Tia bit into the buttery, melted-cheesy pastry, savoring a chewy tang of sun-dried tomatoes and fresh basil. She leaned her shoulder to the doorjamb and sighed. Not all Piper’s creations worked, but this one…“Mmm.”
“You like it?”
“Oh yeah.”
“You’re not just encouraging me because you hope I’ll get better if I keep trying?”
“No, it’s really—”
Piper snatched the croissant out of her hands, turned the bitten end around in the parchment, and held it out to someone else. “Try something new?”
Tia leaned out far enough to see the person approaching. Lanky in jeans, mountain boots, and brown leather jacket bearing the police department emblem, he looked as ragged as a night spent with Johnny Walker, though she didn’t smell it on him, had not, in fact, for years. Even so, every muscle in her hardened—a visceral reflex as automatic as breathing.
He said, “Excuse me?”
His features were edged, and in an instant she realized what day it was.
“The croissant.” Piper flashed her sunny smile.
“Oh. No. Thanks.”
“One bite,” Piper cajoled, a hypnotic maneuver she had mastered.
“And your honest opinion.”
He took a bite and chewed slowly, the muscles rippling along his jaw.
“What are the red things?”
“Sun-dried tomatoes.” Piper bit her lower lip.
“Taste a little fishy.”
“The gods speak,” Tia muttered.
“Fishy?”
“They’re not fishy, Piper.” Tia folded her arms. “A little tangy maybe.”
His gaze flicked over, weighing, measuring her. He must have been doing something in his official capacity, but she didn't care what. Sometimes they went weeks without crossing paths, but every time the encounter arced between them like a chemical adhesion, the two parts of epoxy that did fine until combined, then interacted toxically.
“People who know sun-dried tomatoes will expect that flavor.” She spoke to Piper, but her eyes were locked with Jonah’s.
“I’m sure you’re right.” He held the pastry out.
“No.” Tia raised her hands. “By all means, finish it.” She backed into the shop and closed and locked the door, returning to complacent tapers that had forgotten the burn of the wax.
Jonah winced at the sharp report of the door. Tia Turning, he caught the look of surprise on the young blonde. He had no intention of explaining. “Here.” He tried to return the croissant, but Piper shook her head.
“Do you like it? Would you buy it?”
“You can’t sell—”
“If you like it, you could tell Sarge. Maybe he’d let me try a different thing or two.”
Now he placed her—Sarge’s new baker. No wonder she had the look of a puppy afraid of getting her nose swatted but wanting to please all the same. “Okay.” He started past.
“So, hey. Are you a cop?”
“Chief of police. Can I help you?”
“Who’s responsible for dead things?”
Caught unprepared, his adrenaline surged.
“There’s something on the path between Tia’s house and shop. Who’s responsible for cleaning it up?”
Something, not someone. His chest eased. “I’ll take a look.”
Most days he battled the boredom of policing Redford. This wasn’t most days. He turned off the street and cut over to the path. Realizing he still held the croissant, he folded the tissue around it and shoved it into his jacket pocket, then turned upslope until he found what she was talking about by smell before sight.
A raucous white and iridescent blue-black magpie flew up as he stopped several feet from the carcass. A raccoon. But then he realized there were two, only…they weren’t.
Annoyed when Piper tapped once more, Tia opened the door less magnanimously.
“Oh…my…gosh.” Piper all but quivered. “Who is he?”
“Jonah Westfall.”
Piper searched her face. “What—did he arrest you or something?” “Don’t be silly.” No surprise Piper had picked up on it. His mere presence had curdled her mood.
“There are cute guys in town, but he’s smokin’.”
No way was she having this discussion. “Does Sarge know you’re out here? I can’t give you the room for free, so I suggest you don’t get fired.”
Tia started back to her candles. “Oh, he threatens, but he won’t do it.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure. Sarge has never allowed anyone in his kitchen before.”
“I know.” Piper followed her. “He’s told me about a thousand times. But about Jonah—”
“I have four orders to fill before I open shop.”
“Come on, Tia. Tell me.”
Tia felt the tapers, then lowered and lifted them once more. “This is a delicate process.” One she had done so often she could do it comatose. A bachelor of science and a master’s degree, and here she was dipping candles. Piper watched, then surveyed the workshop as she always did, her gaze roving over the shelves of glass bottles with herbs in oils, dried fruits and berries, blocks of wax and bolts of wick. “This is great. You must love what you do.”
“I enjoy it. I wouldn’t say love.”
“Well, what do you love?” Piper peaked her eyebrows like an imp. “A certain rugged lawman?”
Once again it surprised her how freely Piper barged in. They’d known each other what, three weeks? “You’ve gone from silly to ridiculous.”
Piper leaned her palms on the table. “Why? Is he married?”
Tia slid her a dark glance. “Did he look married?”
“Good point.”
Tia straightened. “Now I need to work. And you need to get back before Sarge declares you AWOL.”
“I’m going.” Piper pressed open the back door but called, “To be continued.”
“Or not,” Tia called after her.
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Item Specifications...
Studio: WaterBrook Press
Pages 336
Dimensions: Length: 1.25" Width: 5.25" Height: 8"
Weight: 0.56 lbs.
Binding Softcover
Release Date May 4, 2010
Publisher WaterBrook Press
ISBN 140007309X
ISBN13 9781400073092
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Availability 7 units.
Availability accurate as of May 24, 2012 06:17.
Usually ships within one to two business days from Johnson City, TN.
Orders shipping to an address other than a confirmed Credit Card / Paypal Billing address may incur and additional processing delay.
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Reviews - What do customers think about Indivisible: A Novel?
 | Indivisible - Book Review Jun 9, 2010 |
This book was not my favorite book to read. I really struggled with trying to get through it. The storyline was really confusing and there was so much going on that I just couldn't seem to keep it all straight and caught up. Too many questions left unanswered. I hate doing a negative review but I do want to be honest. I personally would not recommend this book. So sorry.
| | | | Disappointing Jun 4, 2010 |
| Although I have enjoyed Kristen Heitzmann's earlier books, to me INDIVISIBLE was weird and unnecessarily gruesome, with too many unconvincing characters dealing with all kinds of emotional issues, a story line that's becoming tedious in Christian fiction. Except for her psychological suspense novels like this one and THE EDGE OF RECALL, I have enjoyed her other books. | | |  | Highly Highly Recommended Jun 4, 2010 |
I am going to urge you in the strongest possible terms to buy and read INDIVISIBLE by Kristen Heitzmann. Heitzmann's name might be unfamiliar to you, although she has written two historical series and eight contemporary romantic suspense novels, including the award-winning SECRETS. This current book is a true reflection of the breadth and depth of her talent. Heitzmann's work in general is informed by a Christian spirituality, and INDIVISIBLE is no exception. What she accordingly accomplishes here could be classified as rare and remarkable. Without resorting to graphic language, explicit sex, or violent mayhem, she creates scenes that are softly sensual and tension-filled, wrapped within a character-driven and ultimately uplifting mystery.
The driving theme of INDIVISIBLE is forgiveness, not only of others but of oneself. Jonah Westfall is the second-generation police chief of Redford, Colorado, a small mountain town that is inwardly tranquil but that pulsates with hidden secrets both old and recent. Westfall is a recovering alcoholic who continues to harbor guilt over a past act that keeps him from Tia Manning, the only woman he has ever truly loved, a woman who has erected barriers of her own against Westfall. As is quickly made clear, Westfall is considered by women to be extremely attractive, and they make no secret of it to him. Yet he only has eyes for Manning, who harbors a shame of her own for an act that has ostracized her from her family. Both are slowly drawn back into the world.
For Westfall, his guide is Jay, who aided him in his first painful steps into recovery and beyond. Manning is drawn by the seemingly naïve Piper, a young woman who rents a room from Manning and who befriends her. Piper plays a secondary but nonetheless important role in the lives of several people, including the crusty owner of the bakery where she works and a reclusive germaphobe who frequents the bakery, attracted at first by the pastries and later by the help at the counter. Prayer plays an important part in these characters' lives as well --- more so perhaps for Manning than for Westfall, at least at first --- as they tentatively but gradually reach back for each other. It takes two of Westfall's police investigations, however, to provide a tipping point for Westfall and for Manning.
Someone is leaving animals, mutilated in a grotesque manner, around Rockford. Additionally, a rising drug threat has invaded the city, with repercussions that reach into Redford's police department and Westfall's command. While both crises ultimately place Manning and Westfall in danger, in different ways, they also provide them with the means to reach out to each other, if they have the courage to do so and the faith to place themselves in the hands of a Higher Power.
INDIVISIBLE is a strongly written work with a quirky and believable cast of characters and a plot that, though tightly woven, gives its protagonists room to breathe and grow. In fact, the people you will meet here are so memorable that you will want more of them, a prayer that hopefully will be answered in the near future. | | | | a unified tapestry of regret, hope, and redemption Jun 1, 2010 |
Jonah Westfall is Police Chief for a town where next to nothing happens - until recently. Redford, Colorado is experiencing its first growth pangs as money and drugs begin to impact his peaceful village of idyllic shops and close relationships. Even more disturbing, strange animal mutilations have begun to surface along the mountain trails pointing to cultic activity or perhaps a serial killer in the making. And those are the simplest of the problems facing Redford's chief law officer.
Karen Heitzmann, best known for her romance novels, proves she can handle suspense with the best of them in her latest outing. Indivisible is a tight mystery with suspense that would have made Alfred Hitchcock proud. Rather than offer a murder at every turn the author instead weaves an intricate story of family betrayal and villains of the heart. Who are what is behind the bizarre crimes serves to shine the light on the many fractured and tortured relationships hiding behind the peaceful façade of what appears to a perfect place to live. Everyone, it seems, has a lot of baggage. At the top of the list is the Police Chief himself. He is estranged from his mother, questions still plague him about his father's suicide, and there are two lovers in his life from which he can't quite break away, most notably Kentucky Bourbon.
Indivisible has a large cast of characters so it is easy to lose track of who's who in the first few chapters and there is also at least one sub-plot that might have been left out. Apart from those minor asides, Heitzmann does a great job of weaving the back stories and too-present realities of each character into a unified tapestry of regret, hope, and redemption. These are real people who act and react in very real ways. Not a cardboard cutout of a hero or villain anywhere in sight. The mystery part of the story is measured out in such a way you will find yourself hoping that no one in Redford is the villain and then finally understanding the depth the other character's disappointments might have just as easily found given the same circumstances.
This is the kind of story that is bound to offend some. Both the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals and the Society of Easily Offended Pharisees (I made that one up) will likely share the opinion the author went too far one way or the other. Jonah Westfall battles both alcohol and past indiscretions with the woman that should have been the love of his life. A fellow officer tries to hide her pregnancy and a husband beginning to stray to the other side of the line she has sworn to protect. Another tries to pray even as she questions whether she even believes in God. And, on the plus side, a band of church ladies that wouldn't be caught dead with the aforementioned Pharisees. You know, like people you live and work with. Maybe like people too close to what you once were. Perhaps are.
Indivisible is the kind of novel you have to hang with it first and then won't be able to put down. Kudos to Karen Heitzmann for a story well told and our hopes there will be many more like it! | | |  | Pretty Good Considering Romantic Suspense Is Not My Genre of Choice May 29, 2010 |
Jonah Westfall was trying desperately not to follow in his father's footsteps. Though he was Redding, Colorado's Chief of Police, just as his father had been, he was determined not to make the same mistakes--both professional and relational. However, the nine years since his father's death had been difficult and he struggled to overcome not only an alcohol addiction, but the abuse suffered at the hands of his father.
During this time, Redding was starting to grow and like all growing towns Jonah was beginning to see the start of a drug operation as well as other criminal activities. He became immediately concerned when he started to find mutilated animals. Was this evidence of an emerging cult or the result of a psychologically troubled individual? As the crimes intensified, Jonah repeatedly found himself not only battling his past, but confronted with the woman he had loved since childhood, Tia Manning. Unfortunately because of their shared history, the relationship he desired had never developed and they often had difficulty being civil to one another. In this chaotic environment, Jonah was forced to face great challenges to his sobriety and emotional turmoil while hoping to stop the animal mutilations before they escalated.
Well, I thought I was picking up a general suspense novel. About ¼ of the way through I decided to start researching this book a bit more since the synopsis on the back didn't seem to reflect the story being told. Come to find out, this is a romantic suspense novel, which casts this novel in whole different light. I'm not a big reader of romantic suspense but Indivisible is good for the genre. Since I was expecting the story to center on the crime and law enforcement elements rather than the relationship and romance angles, it took some time to get into the flow of the story, but my overall impression was still fairly positive.
I chose this book for the criminal element and I was expecting a story where this was the main theme. I liked Heitzmann's inventiveness in how she used the mutilated animals as well as the reasoning and motivation for the abuse. It was unique and surprisingly different. The characters involved were interesting and some of the best in the book. This was the primary part of the story that kept me reading even though I figured out who was committing the crimes and a pretty good idea of the reasons behind them early on. However, it was such a great idea and I loved how Heitzmann incorporated and executed it that I didn't mind reading to confirm my suspicions. Overall, it turned out to be a relatively small part of the story, but it was the best part and I wish there would have been more to it.
Unfortunately, I didn't care for the two main characters. Jonah was alright, but he didn't grab me and make me pull for him. Tia was annoying with an irritating personality. I had no interest in that particular romantic angle. I kept hoping he'd dump her and move on. On the other hand, Piper was a lot of fun and Miles was genius. I loved the combination of them together. It was a perfect contrast in personalities and made the scenes with them fun and interesting.
Considering Indivisible is not the type of fiction I tend to read, it was good, though admittedly I don't have a ton of experience with this genre. There were a couple of weak characters and some cheesy romantic dialog that was a bit grating, but the crime aspects were well written and made up for my aversion to the romantic plot elements. A focus on the criminal storylines would have made the book much more entertaining to a suspense/action junkie like myself, but then again that wasn't how the book was ever intended to be written. | | | Write your own review about Indivisible: A Novel
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