Chapters (97)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Eighty-Eight
- Eighty-Nine
- Acknowledgments & A Personal Note
- Excerpt
Quaking with fear, Emma thrashed in the night until something seized her; someone called to her as she clawed at the evil. Someone was shouting her name and pulling her from the darkness to consciousness, soft light and calm.
“Emma?”
She woke to Ben’s face above hers.
“Emma, you’re having a bad dream.”
Blinking, gasping, Emma searched Ben and the room, allowing the assurance of sanity to envelop her.
“It’s all right, Emma, just a bad dream.”
Emma sat up, cupped her hands to her face. Then she reached for the glass of water on the stand beside the bed. Her phone displayed 2:20 a.m. Drinking, she saw Kayla in their doorway. Hair mussed, arms folded, her face flush with alarm.
“I’m sorry,” Emma said.
“She just had a bad dream,” Ben said. “Let’s all get back to sleep.”
Kayla stared for a long moment before disappearing down the hall, leaving a wake of suspicion and doubt about her stepmother.
Fifty-Nine
Cielo Valle and Los Angeles, California
Present day
The two days after Emma’s nightmare had moved fast.
In that time, the Grant household had functioned with as much normalcy as could be expected, under the circumstances and in anticipation of Ben’s departure, now just a few hours away.
Ben’s outline had been officially accepted.
“You hit it out of the park,” Roz Rose had said in her email. “Everybody in New York and Toronto loves it. Good luck researching in Canada.”
Encouraged by the positive reception, Ben finished packing, checking that he had his passport, contact list, files, laptop and chargers. Taking care of other last-minute details, his phone vibrated with a new email. The subject was: “Del Brockway.”
It was from Cecil May, a now-retired cop Ben had battled at a homicide scene when he was still a crime reporter with the Los Angeles Times. Cecil, an icy, case-hardened prick of a detective, was impressed that Ben had “managed to ask intelligent questions,” compared with other reporters. They became and remained friends. Cecil had kept his strong ties to law enforcement and was always ready to help Ben.
Now he’d emailed his response to Ben’s request that he look into the plate of the oddball fan Ben and Emma had encountered in the park.
Working on it, his email read.
Thanks. Appreciate it, Ben emailed back.
Ben drove their SUV to the airport. In the backseat, Kayla said little, typing away on her phone with Tug beside her, happily watching cars on the freeway. Tug loved road trips.
Stealing glances at Emma, Ben thought she was subdued. Checking his rearview mirror, he thought Kayla was restrained.
Undercurrents were raging.