Кей Хупер: Whisper of Evil

There had almost always been enough money, and frequently more than enough, to live comfortably. She and Hailey had owned horses in childhood and, upon their seventeenth birthdays, had been presented by their father with very nice cars — their use of which had been strictly supervised to the extent of Adam holding the keys most of the time.

According to the inventory Nell had been provided by the family attorney, the horses and cars were long gone; Adam Gallagher's old Lincoln was the only vehicle left, and it was sitting on a car lot in Silence waiting to be sold.

Other things would have to be sold as well. Nell had no idea what would be left by the time debts and taxes were paid, and she didn't think much about it. She hadn't come home hoping to profit from her father's death, after all.

She walked away from the house now without looking back, allowing instinct or her subconscious to choose between one of several faint paths into the woods. There were probably fifty or so acres of forest separating the Gallagher house from the surrounding farms and ranches, the canopy of greenery high above creating a cool, dim haven where Nell had spent many childhood hours, especially during the hot and humid summers.

It didn't feel quite as peaceful now as it had then.

Even so, Nell kept walking, conscious of a restless urge too familiar to be ignored. She stopped several times, looking around her with a searching gaze, but all she saw was the motionless green undergrowth, some of it still wet from the previous night's storms.

That realization had barely crossed her mind when Nell heard a deep, rolling rumble of thunder. She blinked, and between one second and the next the scene around her abruptly changed.

It was night, not day, and it was storming. She could feel the wind-lashed rain stinging her skin, even blinding her momentarily until she could turn her back to the force of it. She wiped the rain from her eyes and blinked, trying to see, in the strobelike flashes of lightning, what she was meant to.

A figure wearing a dark rain slicker moved along a path diverging from the one she stood upon. She thought it was a man but couldn't be sure; the slicker he wore had a hood that covered his head, and since he was moving away from her at an angle, his face wasn't visible.

The body over his shoulder was very visible.

It was a woman, Nell was sure of that. Bare arms dangled, and long, wet hair streamed down. She seemed to be wrapped in a sheet or some other pale cloth that was clinging wetly to her skin, and she was limp. Very limp.

"Nell?"

Ignoring that summons, Nell tried to move forward, to follow him and find out where he was going. Was he going to bury a murder victim? Was he carrying an unconscious woman deeper into the woods to — do whatever it was he intended to do to her? Who was he? Who was the woman?

She tried to follow, but something grabbed at her, stopped her, and when she looked down it was to see thick vines twining about her wrists, holding her still. She managed to lift her arms slightly, fingers curling into fists with the effort, but the vines held on tightly.

"Nell!"

She looked quickly through the driving rain, trying to at least see which direction the shrouded figure took through the woods. But there was so much movement of the thick, wind-blown undergrowth, and so much distortion caused by the heavy rain and brilliant flashes of lightning, that she couldn't see him now.

He was gone...

"Nell!"

She blinked. The day had returned. The storm was gone. No rain, no thunder or lightning, no wind. And the vines gripping her wrists were two powerful hands.

She looked up to find Max frowning down at her, and she spared a moment to think wryly that the universe had a bizarre sense of humor. Either that, or it was out to torment her.

"I'm all right," she said, dismayed by the unsteadiness of her voice. "You can let go of me now."

"I'm not so sure." If anything, his frown deepened. "What the hell just happened, Nell? You were about a million miles away."

She was tempted to tell him she'd been farther away than miles could ever measure, but instead said,

"Daydreaming, that's all." And immediately went on the defensive. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was out riding and heard something," he said, not apologizing for riding on Gallagher land rather than his own considerable spread. He seemed to realize for the first time that he was holding her wrists and abruptly released them.

"Heard what?" Nell asked, more rattled than she wanted to admit to either of them. She absently massaged her wrists as she noted the presence of a big, muscled bay gelding standing patiently ground-tied a few yards away.

"You. You cried out."

"What did I cry out?" she asked, reluctant but needing to know.

" No . You said it a couple more times before I got to you, then went silent. Daydreaming? Don't give me that bullshit, Nell. You sounded like something or someone was hurting you, and you were white as a sheet. Still white, if it comes to that."

Choosing her words carefully, Nell said, "I have very… vivid… daydreams. But, as you can see, no one is hurting me. No one is bothering me. I'm perfectly all right. I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine."

"Are you? What about that?" He indicated the Band-Aid above her right eyebrow.

Nell shrugged. "I'm not… reacquainted with the house yet, and a cabinet door caught me when I wasn't looking. It's just a scratch."

Max wasn't frowning now, but his gaze was disconcertingly steady. "It's still happening, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"The blackouts. You blacked out, that's how you hurt yourself."

She almost denied it but finally shrugged again and made her voice wryly dismissive. "We all have something. I pass out from time to time, that's all."

"Did you ever find out what causes it?"

"Stress, the doctors say. I guess coming back here was more stressful than I realized."

"Is that what happened here, just now?" But he shook his head before she could respond, and answered himself. "No, you weren't unconscious. Your eyes were wide open. But your pupils were dilated, and I got the feeling… you were somewhere else."

"Obviously I wasn't somewhere else. I was right here." Nell wasn't entirely sure why she was clinging stubbornly to the fiction that everything was fine — and normal — with her. Depending on how much he remembered, Max knew things about her that no one else in Silence knew. But as long as he didn't admit to the knowledge, she wasn't about to remind him.

He half nodded as though expecting the denial, but said, "Yeah, you were here. Why, Nell? With everything you have to do at the house, what brought you out here?"

"I wanted to go for a walk, that's all." Again, she went on the defensive. "What's with you, Max? This is still Gallagher land, and I'm perfectly entitled to walk on it. I haven't sold out to you yet."

His mouth tightened. "In case you've forgotten what Shelby told you yesterday, people have been dying around here lately. It's not especially safe for you to wander around out in the woods by yourself."

"Men have been dying, according to you and Shelby. Not women."

"So far. But there's no reason to push your luck, Nell."

"I can take care of myself."

"Can you?" He laughed shortly. "You were oblivious when I got here. Anyone could have walked up and — done anything at all to you."

"I'm fine, and I can take care of myself," she insisted, and took a step back away from him to emphasize that independence. "Don't let me keep you from your ride, Max."

For a moment, it seemed he would argue with her, but then he muttered a curse under his breath and went to remount his horse. He gathered up the reins and turned the horse back toward his own property but paused to deliver a last, flat warning before riding away.