by JL Terra
Daire nodded. “Probably would be quicker to wait for Remy’s search results on the pictures I took. See if we get a hit on their IDs.”
“True. Didn’t the cops take their bodies to the morgue?”
Daire nodded. “We can find out if they get an ID.” That was, assuming the men stayed dead this time.
Beyond Shadrach, Malachi still sat in the chair reading his magazine. Did he not think he had anything to contribute to the questioning of Penelope? Maybe he was just tired and he’d had a long day. Like the rest of them.
Daire looked back at Penelope. Blood trailed down the side of her face from under the bandage the doctor had placed there before they kidnapped her out of the hospital. “Get me the syringe.”
Shadrach moved away. Daire watched the reaction to what he’d said move over Penelope’s face. “The time to tell me what I want to know is now. Otherwise, it will be out of your control.”
Information meant the difference between life and death. If all these players really worked for the man Daire thought he’d killed, then it meant the plan was already in place.
That wasn’t the scariest part, though.
Daire rolled his shoulders just to feel the familiar hardness under his jacket. A fight was coming, and he would be ready.
Shadrach injected a low dose into Penelope’s arm. Just enough to tamp down some of the resistance she might have against telling him what he wanted to know.
Daire waited, and then asked her again. “Who were those men?”
“No one.”
He had considered the fact they could be acolytes, like her. “Where is he?”
“Can you see the wind?” Her words blended together in a slur. “It flows—”
“Okay. Fine.” Daire thought for a moment. “Where’s the book?”
“Hidden from him.”
Daire had already figured his enemy had sent Penelope to be the one who made contact because she was a low-level player who didn’t know much. She was expendable. Not enough to be a threat to him should she fall into Daire’s hands. Exactly as she now was. Expendable…
A distraction.
Was that why Penelope hadn’t found the first book? She’d come close at the insurance company, but it was still safe. The chase won. Keeping Daire occupied so his enemy could be busy elsewhere.
He took a step back as realization washed over him. Daire turned to the computer and dialed up Remy again. When she answered, he said, “I need a local weather report for Paradise Valley, Nevada.”
Remy frowned. “The weather?”
“Just do it.”
She typed, but said, “You realize you could just Google it, right? Like, just set the location on your weather app. You’d know what the climate is any time you want to look. They could even send you notifications.”
“Remy.”
“Fine. From the radar, it looks like there’s a storm brewing in that area. Came out of nowhere in the last hour or two. Thirty percent chance of rain now, and it’ll probably last through tomorrow.”
Daire wanted to curse. Or kick something. He did neither while he tried to figure out what on earth was going on. If his enemy had orchestrated this whole mission in order to distract Daire and get him on a plane, hours away from Nevada, well, that meant something big was about to happen.
It meant his niece was in serious danger.
“I have to get there. Now.”
Shadrach said, “Hold up. We have to take Penelope to London.”
“Call ahead. Have the officials from the museum come out to Stanstead and meet us. Take her off our hands so we can get out fast and head back.”
On the screen, Remy shook her head. “You’re at least ten hours away from Nevada doing that. It’s going to take you half a day just to get on the ground in Reno.”
Daire rubbed at the sides of his head where his niece had trimmed his hair. “Just make the arrangements.”
He paced the length of the jet and back until they landed in England just before eleven in the morning.
Shadrach walked Penelope down the steps of the plane. Daire and Malachi followed after them. Uniformed police waited, along with a representative of the museum.
The second Penelope got to the bottom step, she broke away. The police officers and Shadrach all rushed after her. Daire jumped the last two steps and followed. In time to see Penelope grab a hose.
Everyone pulled up short.
She squeezed the nozzle and sprayed herself.
Jet fuel.
The two police officers stopped in front of her, palms raised. One said, “Miss, you need to put that down. Now.”
She pointed it at them. Both men took a step back. Shadrach stayed where he was.
The officer spoke again. “Put it down. Now.”
Penelope dropped the nozzle. Dread moved through Daire. He yelled, “Everyone get back. She’s going to —”
Penelope closed her eyes and went up in flames.
Chapter 6
Paradise Valley, Nevada
“Come on.” Amelia tugged her away from the window. “You should eat something, and it’s ready now.”
Bryn shuddered. The curtain slipped from her fingers, and she walked reluctantly to the dining table.
“Eat, Bryn.”
At the very least she needed the food to keep up her strength. Bryn grabbed the fork and scooped up a bite of cheesy egg. Grit filled her mouth. She tried to smile at Amelia’s expectant expression, but it didn’t seem like the young woman bought her act.
Bryn swallowed the mouthful. It tasted like dirt. “Thank you.” She gulped a few healthy swallows of coffee. Thankfully it wasn’t scalding.
Wind continued to roar outside. Branches brushed against the windows and knocked on the walls. The doors.
Bryn shivered.
There wasn’t much she remembered of what had happened to her, but the rain was part of it. Torrents of rain that made the earth squelch beneath her feet. Splashing puddles that soaked her pant legs as she ran, farther and farther.
And then the falling.
Bryn shoved her chair back. “Did you know this was going to happen?”
Amelia frowned, fork poised halfway to her mouth. Like this was all completely rational. “Are you accusing me of not telling you a storm was going to roll through tonight? Because I’m not sure my guest ever requested that information.” She looked pointedly at Bryn, evidently not prepared to be maligned with no evidence. Fair enough.
Bryn had to wonder why she couldn’t have just stayed asleep. Now it was almost four in the morning, and now they were bizarrely sharing a breakfast while the world outside raged.
And it was getting worse.
“I can’t think.” Bryn scrubbed her hands down her face. Maybe this was nothing but another nightmare and she would wake, sweating. Push back the covers. Get up and do those steps to wash everything away.
Maybe her whole life was a nightmare. Or a delusion.
It certainly felt like it. Would she wake up one of these times and realize she was back in San Francisco? An FBI agent once again. Stuck at her desk, running down leads online. Looking for clues on social media to indicate where those missing children might be.
Back where this had all started—doing her job.
Or maybe she would wake up in a different kind of nightmare. A slave to the delusional whims of her mind. Don’t go back there.
Her life was in tatters. Even she thought she might actually feel crazy when her thoughts spiral out of control. When the wind beat against the windows like that. She wasn’t crazy. She knew she wasn’t. And yet the wind howled like an injured animal, drawing her outside to search for the source.
Bryn shook her head. She shouldn’t do that. Following her instincts was the worst thing she could do. It was the whole reason her life had gone in this direction.
She sat back down. Took another bite of eggs. Grated sweet potato gave it that side of flavor she’d always liked. The wind—no. Focus. Cheese. Garlic powder. Simple
things that added to the meal.
Her last meal.
An autopsy. Stomach contents in a dish.
Bryn ran to the sink and pulled the trash can from the cupboard beneath it. She hurled into the garbage as images rolled through her mind.
A cold metal table. Her lifeless body laid out on it.
No. That wasn’t what’d happened. She had no reason to believe one storm would be her death.
He wasn’t coming for her. She didn’t even know who he was. Just a store of buried memories, little more than sensations. Flashes of feeling that felt like stone cold terror.
Her scars burned. Maybe she would never know what had happened. Never heal or get her life back. Never find answers.
Amelia stood across the breakfast bar as though afraid to come any closer. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong.”
Bryn sucked in air and tried to calm her nerves. Nothing’s wrong. Just a little storm. Some inclement weather. It wasn’t like there was a place in the world where it never rained. At least not any places that weren’t uninhabitable. Here was no different than anywhere else. It was all just the same. Right?
“Bryn?”
She stared at the young woman, not wanting to admit the truth. Not even to herself.
Amelia sighed. She carried the plates to the sink. “I’m going to go outside and check to make sure everything’s okay. If there’s a tree about to fall on the house, I want to know about it.”
Bryn listened to the back door open, then close again. She got a glass from the cupboard and sipped water, then wandered to the window to see if she could find where Amelia had gone.
The curtain wafted toward her, like a greeting.
A caress.
A grasping.
Bryn took a step back. The window was shut. No breeze should be getting in to blow the curtain toward her like that.
She edged back to the center of the room.
The door Amelia had gone out swung wide and hit the doorstopper. Bryn’s whole body flinched as she whipped around to look. The glass slipped from her fingers and smashed on the floor.
Darkness hung thick in the air outside. The wind whirled in to lick at everything in the house. It shifted her clothes against her skin and her ponytail over her shoulder. Strands of her dark hair brushed her face. She pushed them back and took a step toward the door.
Bryn held her back straight, her shoulders tight. It was nighttime. It was dark outside. That wasn’t something to be afraid of.
Rain wet the entryway rug. She walked into the spray, ignored the feel of it through her clothes, and looked out into the darkness. “Amelia?”
Only the wind and rain replied.
The air chilled her skin. She brushed damp strands of hair from her forehead. It was silly to be scared of the weather. A mantra she repeated to herself as she reached the concrete step outside. Her bare feet absorbed the chill, so she backtracked two steps and stuck them in a pair of slip-on shoes.
A gust of wind buffeted her. The lamp in the living room toppled over and the bulb smashed, sending sparks out across the floor.
“Amelia!” She called out again. And again got no reply.
Bryn rubbed her fingers down the legs of her pants. Had something happened to the young woman? She needed to face the fact she’d have to find Amelia. Make sure she was okay.
Together they could keep each other calm until the storm passed. Admit you just want her here with you. Bryn frowned. That wasn’t supposed to be the point. Not when Amelia could have fallen—or something worse could’ve happened.
Images filled her mind. Things Bryn would have rather forgotten along with the rest of her experience. She had no desire to relive any of that now. Amelia was the one person in weeks who hadn’t looked at her sideways and dismissed her as crazy. Amelia had been cautious, sure. Bryn didn’t want that caution to lead her into something she couldn’t handle. Even though it froze her to her core, Bryn had been trained to act when she didn’t feel strong. To risk her life to protect other people.
They could take away her badge, but they couldn’t take away what they’d instilled in her.
She pushed aside everything but the will to find Amelia and trudged through the grass. “Where are you?” She circled the house, calling out to the young woman. She glanced both ways. Toward the trees surrounding the house and then back to the structure itself. Didn’t see her. “Amelia!”
The bed and breakfast wasn’t more than an oversized manor house, probably built by the wealthiest person in town a hundred years ago.
“Amelia!” Frustration built in her as she turned the corner to the back yard area and picked up her pace. “Where are you?”
Two patio chairs had overturned. The wind blew a gust strong enough to send one careening toward her. Bryn sidestepped to avoid it and kept going.
Move forward. Search for your quarry.
No matter that she had no gun.
“Amelia?”
Bryn turned the next corner to the side of the house where a double garage had been erected. A light inside drew Bryn toward it. “Amelia!” Was she in there securing the place? Or hiding?
A dark figure moved past the frosted glass of the window. Bryn picked up her pace to a run and headed for the door. They could wait out whatever was happening in the garage. Or she could help Amelia if necessary.
Bryn twisted the handle and braced. An involuntary move, sure, but she wasn’t going to fight it. She never wanted to face anything again without being cautious.
“Amelia?” Her voice was considerably quieter now. Would the young woman hear her over the wind and rain?
Bryn was soaked, her clothes damp against her skin. Another feeling she wasn’t happy to relive. Why couldn’t she have stayed inside where it was warm and dry? Right. Because she’d never be able to live with herself if she let what had happened to her happen to someone else. That was why.
A car had been backed into the garage and parked on one side. She stood by the passenger door and looked around. Beyond it was an older model Ford truck. To the right was the garage door. All the way to her left, beyond the vehicles, a wall of shelves had been built and stacked with boxes and plastic totes. Snow gear, and summer pool toys. A paddle board hung from the ceiling.
“Amelia?”
No one was here.
Bryn walked around both vehicles to be sure. Someone had moved past the window. Did they leave when she came in? Maybe she was crazy. It was at least an option to be considered, along with all the others. Dream. Nightmare. Delusion. Practical joke. A twisted plan.
Some maniacal criminal who was targeting only her.
Yeah, right. But she tacked it on the end anyway, because Bryn needed the glimmer of hope that she might not be crazy.
“Amelia!” Bryn put all the frustration she could into her voice.
“What?”
She spun around. The young woman stood at the door Bryn had come in, hands on her hips. “What are you doing in here?”
Bryn sighed. “The light was on, and I saw someone through the window.” Maybe she should’ve said she thought she saw someone.
Amelia frowned. “I checked in here a few minutes ago. The light was off, and no one was inside.” She paused. “The door was locked.”
Bryn didn’t know what to say to that. “It wasn’t when I tried it.”
“Why don’t you come out of there?” As though Bryn was a small child who required coddling. Leading by the hand back to home turf. Maybe she did. Perhaps Amelia was correct in her assessment.
Bryn went outside where it continued to rain.
“Come on.” Amelia waved her toward the house. Bryn followed because what else was there to do? The younger woman headed for the side door.
Bryn pulled up short, still fifteen feet from the door. “I left that open.”
“So the wind closed it.” Amelia moved toward it.
A shiver of foreboding ran through Bryn.
Amelia twisted the handle. “It’s locked.” She
glanced back at Bryn, a smile on her lips not matched in her eyes. She was starting to get nervous. “Let’s try the front door.”
Bryn followed. A shifting out the corner of her eye made her whip around. “What was that?” She stared at the trees.
“What was what?”
Nothing moved. The entire earth seemed to echo with the patter of rainfall.
“Come on, Bryn.” Her voice had an edge of frustration now.
There was nothing she could do but follow. Otherwise, the young woman would leave her alone. Outside in the rain with no protection.
She trotted after Amelia, who tried the front door. Then the patio door.
“What about the garage?”
They tried the door to the garage again—where Bryn had been only minutes ago. “It’s locked,” Amelia said.
But she’d been inside the garage. It had to have been real because Amelia had seen her inside.
Amelia said, “I don’t suppose you have any idea what’s happening, do you?” Her look wasn’t exactly accusatory, but it wasn’t far from it either.
Rain dripped down Bryn’s face as she stared at the young woman and wondered exactly how much she was supposed to explain, out here while they got even more drenched. Didn’t she have a hide-a-key? It wasn’t recommended for security, but people did it all the time so they weren’t locked out of their homes.
And maybe she didn’t want Amelia to look at her the way everyone else did.
Amelia’s cheeks puffed and she blew the air out. “Fine,” she said over the noise of the rain. “Don’t tell me.” She turned to the house. “I’ll just have to break a window and—”
Lightning arced down from the sky. The jagged line of bright white light touched the roof. Sparks flew from the corner of the house. Across the lawn, the transformer on the power pole blew as well.
Bryn folded into a crouch, her arms over her head.
“Get up.” Amelia dragged her up by her elbows and they ran. “We don’t want to be out in the open.” Amelia pulled her toward the closest patch of trees. Branches whipped around. Threatened to crack their limbs against her. Bryn knew what the sting felt like. Please, no.
