Arts
We begin in Costa Rica. Author Amy Waeschle's protagonist Dr. Cassidy Kincaid is a volcano seismologist. I had to ask Amy what that is exactly. Turns out it's the perfect profession for an amateur sleuth as it takes her all over the world, where she encounters mysteries of all kinds. Dr. Cassidy is a surfer, visiting Costa Rica in the excerpt Amy reads. And, from the Small World department, Amy herself learned to surf where I live, on the on the west coast of Vancouver Island. She's even written a memoir about her surfing adventures. If you enjoy Amy's reading from Rescuing Reeve you can get the full book for free at her website. This week's mystery author Amy Waeschle is a bestselling mystery writer who fell in love with mysteries while reading late at night under her covers. Agatha Christie, Trixie Belden, and Ridley Pearson were her favorites growing up. She learned to surf just before her 30th birthday, and the challenging experience inspired her to write her first book, a memoir about surfing and traveling called Chasing Waves. After that, Amy was hooked on storytelling, and wanted to combine her love for adventure with fiction, and has been writing adrenaline-spiked mysteries and heartfelt dramas ever since. To learn more about Amy and all her books visit AmyWaeschle.com Press play (above) to listen to the show, or read the excerpt below. Remember you can also listen on Apple Podcasts,Stitcher, Android, Google Podcasts, TuneIn, and Spotify. Excerpt from Rescuing Reeve After a sunset surf session at another remote wave, Cassidy slipped to the bow of the Trinity with her stack of documents, hoping to pick up where she left off, but found fellow surfer Benita leaning back against the railing, playing Reeve’s ukulele and singing softly. She must have seen the look on Cassidy’s face because she stopped mid-strum. “Is this yours? I found it on my bunk.” “Uh, no, I mean, yes, it’s mine.” Benita gave her a shrewd look. “You can play it. I don’t mind, I was just surprised, is all.” “This is actually a really nice one. Do you play?” “No,” Cassidy said, settling in on her cushion. She realized that her answers were not making much sense. “My son learned in school. He got really into it.” She looked up. “Do you have kids?” she asked. Cassidy tried not to download all the reasons why she did not. “No,” she said. She remembered that she hadn’t answered Benita’s question the day before about her marital status. Benita shrugged. “It’s the kind of thing that happens if you ever do. Your kid gets into something, and then suddenly you’re into it too.” “It’s my stepbrother’s,” Cassidy said. Benita fingered a few more keys and strummed. “The one you’re looking for,” she said. It was a statement, not a question, and Cassidy remembered that Benita was a lawyer. A good one, too, she guessed. Cassidy looked out at the blue horizon. The sun would be setting soon, and the soft glow on the water looked like a sheen of pearl luminescence. From inside the boat, she caught the occasional whiff of baking bread. “Yes,” she said. Benita gave her a look. “Are you guys close?” “Not really,” Cassidy replied, “but there isn’t really anyone else who can look for him.” She looked out again, this time at the distant charcoal-and-brown mountains shrouded in wispy clouds. “He was working for Bruce on one of these trips. He went ashore in San Juan and never came back.” Benita’s eyes narrowed, and Cassidy could tell her mind was working. “What did the police say?” “I talked to the police in Tamarindo and Santa Cruz, but they said there wasn’t much they could do because he disappeared in Nicaragua. I don’t know if anyone’s talked to the police in San Juan. My stepsister tried calling, but she doesn’t speak Spanish. She has been talking to someone at the U.S. Embassy, but I don’t think anyone’s taking her seriously.” “Do you have an idea of what happened?”