course, they were never just storms for her. It had something to do with her freaky gift—something she’d failed to suppress, unlike her empathy with murder victims, because she couldn’t avoid Mother Nature the way she could crime scenes. Electrical storms affected her, sometimes violently. She felt them—either with a giddy sense of power, an overwhelming fear, or an almost sexual lust that reverberated through her until she thought she’d go insane waiting for the storm to pass.
Tonight, terror crept along the fringes of her sanity. The lightning flashes came more frequently, and the wind whipped the trees into a frenzy. Small twigs and leaves scraped across her windshield on their way to Oz.
“Where the hell is the yellow-brick road when you frigging need it?”
Finally, Beth found the highway, squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, and breathed a sigh of relief. She turned on her blinker, preparing to turn left onto the two-lane highway just as her cell phone played a few notes of theme song from Twilight Zone.
“Shit.” Beth grabbed her cell out of her backpack. “Dearborn here.” Sitting in a tin can during an electrical storm in the middle of nowhere, like an idiot, talking on a frigging cell phone.
“This is Sarah Malone,” a young woman said.
Whoa! Ty and Lorilee’s kid? “Yes? What can I do for you?” Ty didn’t want her to speak to the children, but Beth couldn’t very well stop them from contacting her. Could she?
“I—I heard you’re here to solve my momma’s murder.”
Oh, boy. There’s that word again. “Sarah, who told you that?”
“No one. You’re an investigator,” the girl said, the tremor in her voice audible even though the signal was breaking. “I just thought…”
“How did you get this number?”
“I found your card on my dad’s desk.”
More static garbled the line, and Beth glanced at her dashboard. Eight o’clock wasn’t late. “Then you know I work for an insurance company.”
“Y-yes.”
“Does your dad know you called me?”
“No. He went to town this evening. I’m the one who asked him to find out what happened to Momma.”
Suddenly, Beth had to talk to this girl. Tonight. “How old are you, Sarah?”
“Sixteen.”
Not an adult, but not a baby, either. Ty would have a fit. Lighting struck the ground somewhere nearby. Too near. Beth could smell it. Feel it. Hear it in her bones.
“I’m not far away from your place now.” Beth might regret those words, but she pressed onward. “Is it too late for us to talk?”
“No.” The girl sounded eager. “Come now. I’m babysitting my little brother and sister. They just went to bed.”
Common sense told Beth to turn left and head back to the hotel. Gut instinct told her to turn right and cross the bridge, turn right again, and return to the Malones’ house for the second time today.
“I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
Beth disconnected and headed in that direction, mentally kicking herself as she made the necessary turns. The kicking didn’t help. She still had to risk this.
Fat raindrops pelted her windshield, and the storm rocked her tiny car. Lightning transformed the inky landscape to pseudowinter. Raindrops sparkled like eerie ice shards in the flash, then reverted to watery missiles landing on the hood of her car.
Beth clutched her steering wheel. A fierce blast of wind slammed into the vehicle, and she swerved onthe graded gravel road leading to the Malones’ Victorian farmhouse. And shelter.
She hit the brake and stopped the car, pressed the heel of her hand against her breastbone. Her heart hammered frantically against it. “Easy. It’s only a storm.”
She could handle this. If only she weren’t so alone. If only it weren’t so damned dark. In town, it wouldn’t be so dark. The storm wouldn’t seem so…eerie. So otherworldly. But she knew better.
Tiny pellets of hail scurried against her windshield. “Drive, Dearborn. Drive, damn you.” She eased her
Tonight, terror crept along the fringes of her sanity. The lightning flashes came more frequently, and the wind whipped the trees into a frenzy. Small twigs and leaves scraped across her windshield on their way to Oz.
“Where the hell is the yellow-brick road when you frigging need it?”
Finally, Beth found the highway, squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, and breathed a sigh of relief. She turned on her blinker, preparing to turn left onto the two-lane highway just as her cell phone played a few notes of theme song from Twilight Zone.
“Shit.” Beth grabbed her cell out of her backpack. “Dearborn here.” Sitting in a tin can during an electrical storm in the middle of nowhere, like an idiot, talking on a frigging cell phone.
“This is Sarah Malone,” a young woman said.
Whoa! Ty and Lorilee’s kid? “Yes? What can I do for you?” Ty didn’t want her to speak to the children, but Beth couldn’t very well stop them from contacting her. Could she?
“I—I heard you’re here to solve my momma’s murder.”
Oh, boy. There’s that word again. “Sarah, who told you that?”
“No one. You’re an investigator,” the girl said, the tremor in her voice audible even though the signal was breaking. “I just thought…”
“How did you get this number?”
“I found your card on my dad’s desk.”
More static garbled the line, and Beth glanced at her dashboard. Eight o’clock wasn’t late. “Then you know I work for an insurance company.”
“Y-yes.”
“Does your dad know you called me?”
“No. He went to town this evening. I’m the one who asked him to find out what happened to Momma.”
Suddenly, Beth had to talk to this girl. Tonight. “How old are you, Sarah?”
“Sixteen.”
Not an adult, but not a baby, either. Ty would have a fit. Lighting struck the ground somewhere nearby. Too near. Beth could smell it. Feel it. Hear it in her bones.
“I’m not far away from your place now.” Beth might regret those words, but she pressed onward. “Is it too late for us to talk?”
“No.” The girl sounded eager. “Come now. I’m babysitting my little brother and sister. They just went to bed.”
Common sense told Beth to turn left and head back to the hotel. Gut instinct told her to turn right and cross the bridge, turn right again, and return to the Malones’ house for the second time today.
“I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
Beth disconnected and headed in that direction, mentally kicking herself as she made the necessary turns. The kicking didn’t help. She still had to risk this.
Fat raindrops pelted her windshield, and the storm rocked her tiny car. Lightning transformed the inky landscape to pseudowinter. Raindrops sparkled like eerie ice shards in the flash, then reverted to watery missiles landing on the hood of her car.
Beth clutched her steering wheel. A fierce blast of wind slammed into the vehicle, and she swerved onthe graded gravel road leading to the Malones’ Victorian farmhouse. And shelter.
She hit the brake and stopped the car, pressed the heel of her hand against her breastbone. Her heart hammered frantically against it. “Easy. It’s only a storm.”
She could handle this. If only she weren’t so alone. If only it weren’t so damned dark. In town, it wouldn’t be so dark. The storm wouldn’t seem so…eerie. So otherworldly. But she knew better.
Tiny pellets of hail scurried against her windshield. “Drive, Dearborn. Drive, damn you.” She eased her
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