Brief Interludes (6 page)

Addie inhaled, holding her breath for a few seconds before exhaling. “Deep breaths, Addie, slow, deep breaths,” she whispered as the memory of the horrible nightmare flooded her mind.

She concentrated on her breathing, feeling the rapid beat of her heart, determined to steady her nerves.

“Think of something else,” she demanded and glanced down at her camera and tripod. She’d remembered to bring them along today, hoping the sun would come out so she could go to the cliffs during her afternoon break, still determined to decorate her bare apartment walls with pictures of the giant waves crashing against the massive rocks. She grimaced, leaning forward to peek at the sky, perturbed the sun wasn’t going to cooperate.

Addie turned her concentration back to the road. One wrong turn could be fatal if her truck were to swerve and go over the cliff. Her new truck—well, new to her anyway—was sturdy and powerful, exuding confidence and strength
,
the exact attributes Addie needed
at the moment
.

She absently tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
“Another cloudy day.
I should have taken pictures during the summer months, like any other normal person.” She glanced up at the sky again before bringing her eyes back to the road.

That’s when she saw him standing in the center of the highway.

She screamed, grasped the wheel with both hands, and steered to the right. The truck lurched. Her camera and tripod clunked against the passenger door and then fell to the floor. Addie tried to straighten the wheel, but the gravel on the side of the road sent the wheels spinning toward the ditch. She slammed on the brakes, skidding several feet before finally stopping inches from a very steep slope.

“Oh, God … did I hit him?” She’d heard a thump against the truck. “I must have hit him.”

Her hands shook. In fact, her entire body trembled with fear. Forcing her uncooperative limbs to move, Addie shoved open the heavy truck door, held on to support her quivering body, and stepped out. Her rubbery legs buckled under her as the fierce wind blew her jacket open.
Steadying herself, she used both hands to keep it closed and crept to the back of the truck, scanned the area, but saw no one. Not even a hint of a body.

She called out. “Hello? Sir, are you all right?”

No one answered. The silence was disturbing, as if something sucked all evidence of life out of the area, leaving nothing behind except the sound of the wind rustling through dead leaves and the surf pounding against the rocks below. Still holding her jacket closed, she sprinted to the other side of the truck, but there was no trace of the guy.

Her stomach knotted. Her eyes fell upon the dents and scratches on the front fender. She studied them for a few seconds, but it was impossible to tell if there was any new damage. Just last week she’d miscalculated a turn and scraped the fender against the dumpster at work.

Keeping her jacket closed with one hand, she held her long dark hair back from her eyes with the other and searched the area the best she could. She didn’t see anyone.

“Where did he go?” She ran back to her truck, pulled herself up onto the seat, and quickly shut the door. Her hands shook as she pushed down on the locks, and for a moment, she just sat, frozen.

“No one was there.” Her eyebrows tightened and tears stung her eyes. Certain there was nothing to do, Addie glanced down the highway before slowly easing the truck back onto the road. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other fumbling with her seatbelt, she glanced in the rear view mirror. Addie let out a long, uneasy breath, and managed to relax some, but questioned her sanity. Was she seeing things? No, she saw him. Why was he standing in the middle of the road, and how did he just vanish? Where had he come from? She hadn’t seen a car parked anywhere and knew this stretch of the road. There wasn’t a house or any other building around for at least a quarter of a mile.

Addie tried to picture his face after only a brief glimpse of the guy. He wasn’t someone she recognized. He wore a tattered black leather coat that hung down to his thighs and his thick black hair, falling just inches above his shoulders
,
blew around his face. Any more detail was impossible to recall. The idea of a man standing in the middle of the road and then just vanishing was absurd, but she had seen someone and the whole experience frightened her. She considered the possibility that it was a ghost, but he’d looked so real. Then again, she had never seen a ghost before, so how would she know what a ghost really looked like? No, no, the ghost theory didn’t cut it. He had been real.

She needed a distraction, something to take her mind off the man, and out of habit, pushed the power button on the radio before remembering it stopped working during an electrical storm a week ago. Frustrated, she banged the top of the dashboard with her fist. The veins in her fingers burned and as she opened her hand, tiny sparks shot forth from her fingertips.

“Ouch!” She shook her hand as the radio crackled for a few seconds then began to play. Perplexed, Addie glanced at her hand as though it belonged to someone else and then back at the radio again. She
shrugged,
deciding the jolt from the sudden stop somehow jarred the wires. In an effort to calm down, she sang along with the radio, her voice timid. Every now and then, she glanced in the rear view mirror as if the man were somehow running behind her. She couldn’t help wondering how he materialized out of nowhere, and then ... poof, just vanished. Was he a figment of her imagination?

The song changed, luring her back to reality. She glanced at her watch. She was late for work, and Gerry, her boss, would be livid.

***

Cael Sheridan stepped out from behind a thicket of Manzanita bushes and onto the highway. He looked left then right, and proceeded to walk along the side of the road, a bit more cautious of oncoming traffic than he’d been a few minutes earlier. She’d nearly run him over. He knew it had been careless of him to be in the middle of the road, but from what he’d remembered, there usually wasn’t much traffic on this stretch of highway, especially this time of year.

It had been several years since he’d been back to Whisper Cape, though he sensed not much had changed. The narrow highway was completely deserted other than the one truck. The swirling wind stung clear down to his bones. He pulled up the frayed collar of his coat and frowned as the loose strands of fabric tickled his chin. Glancing down the side of the cliff, he paused to admire the roaring surf crashing against the rocks.

“Ah, still breathtaking.”
He smiled,
then
breathed in, as the cool moist air filled his lungs. He reveled in the fresh ocean breeze with the faint taste of salt in the air.

Yes! I love this coast.

Taking in another deep breath, and suffering the bite of the wind, he continued walking.

He hadn’t meant to frighten the woman in the truck, but hadn’t wanted to die either.
So
, he did what came naturally to him and disappeared.

Hiking along the road, Cael willed his thoughts back to business. He was tracking a killer on a hunch—a hunch leading to the sister of his friend, his mentor, Ristéard. Soon after Ristéard’s death, his sister left New York and moved out west to Oregon. Cael’s gut warned him the murdering monster, known as Eidolon, might have followed her. Cael was certain Eidolon hadn’t found what he’d been looking for when he slaughtered Ristéard. Eidolon was sinister and deranged. Cael knew he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He enjoyed the walk into town, but picked up the pace, hoping he’d arrived in time.

Please read on for
a
sneak peek into Reflections, book two in the Whisper Cape Series.

Excerpt from
Reflections

Look for it soon on Amazon.com

Gerry has loved Maia from the very first moment
he
laid eyes on her and now that she’s pregnant with his child, he’s over the moon with happiness. Likewise, Maia is overjoyed about having Gerry’s baby, but when she starts seeing and hearing an old woman who always seems to want to warn Maia about the pregnancy, Maia starts to think she is losing her mind.

But
Maia’s nightmare has only just begun . . . A most sought after beautiful woman, a talented lead singer in an up and coming rock band sets her sights on Gerry determined to rekindle an old flame.
But
murder
befalls the sleepy town of Whisper Cape once again,
creating suspicion and betrayal, and a love, considered invincible, begins to crumble and fall apart.

Chapter 1

Cucumber Salad

T
omato juice splattered everywhere as the bottle hit the gray tile floor. Maia gasped at the shattered glass, unable to tear her eyes away; the thick red liquid pooled at her feet like a stagnant river of blood. 

“I’m sorry, Manny, the jar just slipped out of my hand,” she said, sensing the old man’s presence at her side and half-wondering how he’d gotten across the aisle so quickly.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart.”

“I’m so clumsy lately. I can’t seem to hold on to anything these days.”

“Are you hurt? Did any glass cut you?” He took her by the elbow, leading her away from the debris.

“No, I’m fine. Let me help you clean up.” She glanced back at the slimy red liquid mixed with pieces of sharp, ragged-edged glass, making the aisle resemble a murder scene from some B-rated detective show on TV.

“No, no. I’ll get Jeff to clean up. He’ll be here in about five minutes. Now be careful where you step.” He placed a large orange cone near the edge of the area to ward off any unsuspecting customers from the slippery mess.

“Thanks, Manny. I am so sorry—I’ll pay for the juice.”

“Not to worry. A bottle of juice gets broken in here at least once a week.” He winked and managed to bring a smile to her fretful face.

Good old genial Manny, the master of calm, owner of the small seaside grocery store—the only food store in Whisper Cape—and everybody’s grandfather. He had a particular soft spot for pretty women. Except right now, Maia didn’t feel pretty. She felt fat and clumsy. Determined to
stay out of maternity clothes for at least another month, she tugged at the waist of her once loose old gray sweat pants and rubbed at the indentation the elastic etched on her tummy. Even the normally beautiful, long, golden-brown curls she’d tucked up in her green wool hat refused to cooperate this morning as they constantly slipped out and fell in her eyes. She walked with Manny toward the other end of the store, and as he veered off to the checkout area, Maia continued on to the deli section.

The small store was quiet except for a group of teenage girls giggling over the cover of a DVD. A group of young men hung around outside, looking in at the girls. School would start soon and they’d all be on their way. Maia MacKenna glanced at them and smiled, remembering what it was like to be that age—innocent, not a care in the world. She placed her hand over the small bulge in her abdomen. Life would never be the same for her.

At this time of the morning, Manny’s Beachside Market—aptly named as one could hear the pounding of the surf whenever the front door opened—was often the main attraction of the kids from the nearby middle school and high school. The small-town grocer managed to carry all the essentials, from sunscreen to meats and produce, even a small variety of wines and beer. The refrigerated glass case Maia perused housed a few selections of prime cut steaks and marinated pot roasts and the deli department consisted of popular cold cuts and cheeses; nothing fancy, just the basics. The produce counter offered a variety of heads of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, some apples, oranges—enough to get by for residents and families visiting the area for a few days. Almost too small for the word “market,” Manny’s place  happened to be the closest grocery store within five miles of the cozy cottage where Maia lived with Gerry Briden, the love of her life and the father of her unborn child.

Hoping to finish the shopping before her doctor’s appointment later that morning, she stood facing a cleverly stacked display of tomatoes contemplating how many she’d need as something in the corner of the adjacent deli case caught her eye. A billow of steam escaped from a small crack at the bottom, and she found herself mesmerized as the dewy cloud rose and dissipated, rose and dissipated.