Excerpt from Death in the Jungle by Candace Fleming, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Into this conservative Christian community barreled Lynetta Jones. She cursed in public, wore trousers, and puffed on hand-¬rolled cigarettes. It was eyebrow-¬raising behavior, especially for a woman.

Her worst transgression, at least in the eyes of Lynn's citizens, was not attending church, and the town boasted six of them. There were the Nazarenes and the Methodists, the Disciples of Christ, the Baptists, the Quakers, and the Pentecostals. As in the rest of the state, evangelical Protestantism reigned. It was commonly believed that those who were not in a pew every Sunday were on the road to eternal damnation.

Lynetta Jones thought it all poppycock. It seemed ridiculous to her that some spirit in the sky decided who got into heaven. Those folks who went to church were, in her opinion, mindless dupes.

While Lynetta worked and Big Jim sat wheezing and in pain by the front window, their little boy wandered all over town, alone and unsupervised. Sometimes he was half-¬naked. Sometimes he scampered along the sidewalks gnawing on the sandwich Lynetta had left for his lunch. He loved animals, perhaps because they gave him unconditional affection, and he could often be found playing with the neighbors' cats and dogs.

The town's homemakers clucked about the neglected child. Was he going hungry? When was the last time he'd had a bath? Had anyone taught him the Lord's Prayer? They invited him into their homes, cleaned him up, and fed him. Jimmy—¬not yet five years old—¬quickly learned how to say or do whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. He had an instinctual ability to quickly surmise what was important to someone, and he could convince that person that he felt the same (even if he didn't). He swore to each woman that hers was the best pie, or biscuit, or cookie. He acted polite and grateful. He played on their sympathies, spinning false tales about his father's cruel and terrifying behavior. Having sussed out a homemaker's interest—-needlepoint, gardening, baking—¬he claimed to share her enthusiasm. Each woman felt she had a special bond with Jimmy Jones.

Little Jimmy was simply trying to survive. "Manipulation was not a conscious thing for him," his son Stephan would later claim. But because of these early experiences, the act of manipulation became second nature, an ingrained part of his personality.

Across the street from the Jones family lived Myrtle Kennedy. Myrtle was dedicated to God. She led prayer meetings, organized church potlucks, and taught Sunday school at the Nazarene church, where her husband, Orville was pastor. With a glad heart, she followed the Nazarenes' strict rules: no dancing, no card playing, no short sleeves or short skirts. Like many of the other ladies in town, she felt sorry for little Jimmy Jones.

One morning while Myrtle stood in the grocer's line, she heard a neighbor talking about the child. Jimmy, now seven, had been playing on the tracks when a train came along. He'd almost been run over, exclaimed the woman. The wheels had actually grazed his cheek. The neighbor saw it as another example of Lynetta Jones's carelessness as a mother.

Myrtle, however, took it as a sign from God. The Lord, she believed, had saved the boy so she could take him under her wing.

Now whenever she saw Jimmy out wandering, she called him in for cookies or pie. She learned his favorite meals—¬macaroni and cheese, and grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup—¬and made them for him. Soon he went to Myrtle's home every day. Sometimes he even slept there overnight. Lynetta didn't care. It kept the boy out of her hair.

She might have been more concerned if she knew her son called Myrtle "Mom." The title pleased Myrtle, who had no children of her own. She saw herself as Jimmy's spiritual mother. And she set out to save his soul by reading to him from the Bible. The boy—¬bright and always eager to please—¬soon quoted scripture back to her. She was charmed.

Excerpted from Death in the Jungle by Candace Fleming. Copyright © 2025 by Candace Fleming. Excerpted by permission of Anne Schwartz Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.