even more by the uneasy worry that if that was happening, it was somehow connected to all the buried stuff that had finally brought her back home.
If she had learned anything in recent years, working with Haven, it was that true coincidences were rare, and that the universe tended to put you where you were for a very good reason.
Was she here to uncover more than her past? Would uncovering her past also expose a killer?
Her imagination? Or trained psychic intuition? She wasn’t sure; that was the problem. Almost from the moment she’d hit town, she had been nagged by uncertainty and doubts.
But was that so unusual? Coming back after years to a place thatheld negative memories and even triggered stronger nightmares was bound to mess with her head, and she’d learned that psychics were especially vulnerable to that sort of thing, being influenced by their surroundings.
And by the baggage banging against their heels.
So maybe her mind had simply conjured a spirit warning of a killer because as much as she wanted to deny it, as much as she’d
tried
to deny it for years, she was afraid of this place.
Afraid to remember—
“Jessie? Damn, it is you.”
Despite being caught off guard by the timing, this was a meeting Jessie had prepared herself for. She turned to face her cousin Victor Rayburn, who was physically more impressive at forty than he had been at twenty-five, but who still wore on his handsome face the lazy half smile that had caused more than one teenage girl to melt into a senseless puddle at his feet.
Jessie didn’t melt. This time.
“Victor. I’m surprised you weren’t in church.”
“Because I needed to be or because the town expected me to be?” He looked and sounded amused.
“Six of one.” Jessie shrugged and slipped her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “I hear you’re the man here in town. That must make you happy.”
“It makes life pleasant,” he admitted, still smiling.
“Yeah, I’ll bet.”
“And what about you, Jessie? What have you done with your life since you left Baron Hollow?”
“This and that. Jobs. School. Career. Usual stuff.”
“Career? Funny, I never imagined you having a career. You never seemed to have a specific interest when you were a kid.”
“Well, we all grow up, don’t we?” Jessie had no intention of telling Victor one bit more than she had to about her life, so she changed the subject abruptly. “Emma says you want to buy some of the land Dad left me.”
“Yeah, that parcel out by Willow Creek Church. Even the flat land so close to the mountain slopes isn’t good for much, not farming or even pasture, but it adjoins land my family’s owned for generations. I’ll pay the fair market price, Jessie. Get your own appraisal if you want.”
“Maybe I’ll do that.”
“Well, I’d appreciate it if you make a decision before you leave town again; otherwise the whole thing will stay in limbo. Emma won’t part with an acre, and Trent isn’t going to sell off anything of yours without specific instructions to do so.”
“I’ll let you know, Victor.”
“Good enough. See you around, Jessie. And—welcome home.” He reached out to grasp her bare arm, squeezing it briefly, then went on his way past her.
FIVE
Jessie stood there for only an instant, then made herself continue walking, outwardly calm. But inwardly, her stomach was churning, and she felt very cold.
Hot breath on her face, stinking of cheap wine and whiskey. Dim lights and shadows. Noise coming from another room and laughter in this one. Hands touching her roughly, pulling at her clothes. A heavy weight bearing down on her. A sharp pain, and she tried to cry out, but there was a hand over her mouth now, other rough hands holding her wrists and ankles.
More pain, feeling her flesh tear, the hot wetness of blood. And then the pain was bearable, and she was whimpering so quietly she barely heard it herself, so the hand lifted away from her mouth. She turned her head
If she had learned anything in recent years, working with Haven, it was that true coincidences were rare, and that the universe tended to put you where you were for a very good reason.
Was she here to uncover more than her past? Would uncovering her past also expose a killer?
Her imagination? Or trained psychic intuition? She wasn’t sure; that was the problem. Almost from the moment she’d hit town, she had been nagged by uncertainty and doubts.
But was that so unusual? Coming back after years to a place thatheld negative memories and even triggered stronger nightmares was bound to mess with her head, and she’d learned that psychics were especially vulnerable to that sort of thing, being influenced by their surroundings.
And by the baggage banging against their heels.
So maybe her mind had simply conjured a spirit warning of a killer because as much as she wanted to deny it, as much as she’d
tried
to deny it for years, she was afraid of this place.
Afraid to remember—
“Jessie? Damn, it is you.”
Despite being caught off guard by the timing, this was a meeting Jessie had prepared herself for. She turned to face her cousin Victor Rayburn, who was physically more impressive at forty than he had been at twenty-five, but who still wore on his handsome face the lazy half smile that had caused more than one teenage girl to melt into a senseless puddle at his feet.
Jessie didn’t melt. This time.
“Victor. I’m surprised you weren’t in church.”
“Because I needed to be or because the town expected me to be?” He looked and sounded amused.
“Six of one.” Jessie shrugged and slipped her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “I hear you’re the man here in town. That must make you happy.”
“It makes life pleasant,” he admitted, still smiling.
“Yeah, I’ll bet.”
“And what about you, Jessie? What have you done with your life since you left Baron Hollow?”
“This and that. Jobs. School. Career. Usual stuff.”
“Career? Funny, I never imagined you having a career. You never seemed to have a specific interest when you were a kid.”
“Well, we all grow up, don’t we?” Jessie had no intention of telling Victor one bit more than she had to about her life, so she changed the subject abruptly. “Emma says you want to buy some of the land Dad left me.”
“Yeah, that parcel out by Willow Creek Church. Even the flat land so close to the mountain slopes isn’t good for much, not farming or even pasture, but it adjoins land my family’s owned for generations. I’ll pay the fair market price, Jessie. Get your own appraisal if you want.”
“Maybe I’ll do that.”
“Well, I’d appreciate it if you make a decision before you leave town again; otherwise the whole thing will stay in limbo. Emma won’t part with an acre, and Trent isn’t going to sell off anything of yours without specific instructions to do so.”
“I’ll let you know, Victor.”
“Good enough. See you around, Jessie. And—welcome home.” He reached out to grasp her bare arm, squeezing it briefly, then went on his way past her.
FIVE
Jessie stood there for only an instant, then made herself continue walking, outwardly calm. But inwardly, her stomach was churning, and she felt very cold.
Hot breath on her face, stinking of cheap wine and whiskey. Dim lights and shadows. Noise coming from another room and laughter in this one. Hands touching her roughly, pulling at her clothes. A heavy weight bearing down on her. A sharp pain, and she tried to cry out, but there was a hand over her mouth now, other rough hands holding her wrists and ankles.
More pain, feeling her flesh tear, the hot wetness of blood. And then the pain was bearable, and she was whimpering so quietly she barely heard it herself, so the hand lifted away from her mouth. She turned her head
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