Wolf Bog (Berkshire Hilltown Mysteries Book 3)

A Body in the Bog. A Town Full of Secrets.

In a parched Berkshires summer, as drought shrinks the wetlands, a horrifying discovery surfaces—literally. The perfectly preserved body of a local teenager, missing for forty years, is found in Wolf Bog. Among the hikers who uncover it are amateur sleuth Kathryn Stinson and her close friend Charlotte Hinckley—who reacts with more than shock. She blames herself for the boy’s death.

As Kathryn investigates the cold case, she uncovers a tangled history of privilege, betrayal, and hidden desires centered around a mansion where the town's youth once partied alongside the offspring of the elite. But the deeper Kathryn digs into the past, the more dangerous the present becomes.

Adding to the tension, a woman arrives claiming to be Charlotte’s long-lost daughter, stirring up guilt, suspicion, and unease. Is she truly family—or playing a manipulative game with deadly intent?

Set against the haunting landscape of rural Massachusetts, Wolf Bog is a layered mystery about buried truths, family ties, and the price of uncovering what others desperately want to keep hidden.

Get your copy of Wolf Bog—the third installment in Leslie Wheeler’s Berkshire Hilltown Mysteries—and discover what secrets lie beneath the surface.

Excerpt from the book

The hike to Wolf Bog seemed like a good idea at the start. Kathryn Stinson certainly enjoyed the first part. The walk through the forest provided welcome relief from the August heat and offered fine views, first of Many Acre Lake, then of Indigo Pond, with glimpses of stone walls and old foundations buried deep in the woods. But to reach Wolf Bog, their party of six had to leave the wide, well-marked trail under a canopy of dappled light, and follow a narrow, overgrown path that was out in the open, exposing them to the sun’s scorching rays and attacks by insects and prickly plants. Then, all Kathryn could think of was the classic child’s question: “Are we there yet?”

Did any of the others trudging single file ahead of her share her discomfort? Not their guide, Wally, aka Rufus Wallingford, surely. A tall, distinguished looking man in his seventies with a handlebar mustache worthy of Mark Twain, he’d grown up on the edge of the vast expanse of wetlands known as Many Acre Swamp and knew the area well. Still, it was strange to see him in hiking clothes instead of the tailored suits and bow ties he wore as an attorney.

Definitely not Charlotte Hinkley, the second in line, either. Tall like Wally, with a cap of silver hair, she’d spent years in the rain forests of Madagascar studying lemurs. Currently, she served as executive director of the New Nottingham Land Trust and, together with Wally, had organized the hike.

And probably not the person who followed Charlotte and had become her shadow lately. A combat veteran of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, Steve Reikart was used to roughing it.

Next in line was Hal Phelps, Kathryn’s neighbor on Rattlesnake Hill in New Nottingham. A summer resident of the Berkshires and a good-natured sort, he most likely would have preferred to spend the afternoon on the golf course but came to support his wife. He was also there to take pictures, judging from the camera with a super telephoto lens that dangled from his neck like an elephant’s trunk.

Betty Phelps, who brought up the rear, was petite and well-groomed. She would have preferred an afternoon of tennis or shopping, Kathryn thought. She and Betty had bonded with Charlotte during a battle against a real estate developer, bent on turning the property Kathryn rented into an upscale development. Betty even referred to Charlotte as their “fearless leader”—an apt nickname, given how much she and Kathryn admired Charlotte. Kathryn doubted that Betty would complain out loud, though her make-up, which had begun to run in the sweltering heat, gave her away. She stopped to wipe her sweat-beaded forehead with a handkerchief and take a long drink from her water bottle.

Kathryn stopped, too. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Betty said. “But I hope we get there soon. Wish we hadn’t picked the hottest day of summer for this hike. When we reach the bog, I’ll want to jump in the water.”