Fallon jumped off the bed and paced the carpeted floor. “More likely, she blamed me for their deaths. My mother died a day after having me. She probably couldn’t stand to look at me after that.”
“I don’t think so. She was cradling you in her arms when we went to pick you up. The love in her eyes was palpable. She cried when she handed you to me. I think she just wanted you to be happy, and she knew she couldn’t give that to you.” She paused then released a breath. “It’s funny. When she was holding you, she was studying you as if memorizing your every feature. She looked up at me, said you had a good soul and a wonderful fire buried in your heart. That you were destined for a greater good.”
Fallon shivered at the mention of fire. What had her aunt meant? “Do you think I should go, Mama?”
“Yes. She may not have wanted you to know her when she was alive, but she obviously left something for you. I think she was a good woman, devastated by loss. Maybe she wanted to make up for that.”
“Thanks.” She sank back onto the bed and sighed. “I miss you. You should come home for a visit next month. Hopefully, I’ll be able to introduce you to Zane.”
“I’d like that,” she said, the smile clear in her voice. “Get some sleep, honey, and call me after the reading. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom.” Fallon set her cell phone on the nightstand and curled up on her bed.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose while her mother’s words jackhammered through her head, ripping up the foundations of her life. Her biological aunt. Wow. She hadn’t seen that one coming. Well, she’d never been to Maine before. East Coast, here I come.
***
When Fallon exited the Portland International Jetport terminal, cold New England air slapped her in the face. Spring was about forty degrees cooler in Maine than in Texas, and the damp wind twined around her, ticking a chill down her back. First stop, purchase a heavier sweatshirt. When she’d checked in to pick up her rental car, she’d discovered a midsize sedan had already been paid for and sat ready and waiting for her out in the lot. Nice. It seemed the whole trip had been paid for.
Starting the car and letting the engine warm, Fallon perused the map and motel information the attendant had given her. A room had been booked for her at the Sea Breeze Motel in Sentinel Harbor, which was still another hour drive up the coast. Even though it was only seven p.m., the sky had grown dark, and a thick bank of ominous clouds foretold a storm rolling in off the coast. Buckling up, Fallon headed north on Route 1.
Leaving the restaurant in Johnny’s capable hands had been the easy part. He’d assured her that he and the girls could take care of everything, and she’d also arranged for her neighbor’s sixteen-year-old daughter to help wait tables. As it turned out, Johnny’s sister, Barb, had been scheduled to arrive that afternoon for a weeklong visit and would watch over their mom.
The difficult part had been leaving without being able to tell Zane. She’d tried to call but had only reached his voice mail and had chickened out when the beep sounded for her to leave a message. Fallon rolled her eyes, remembering the strangled sound she’d uttered before jabbing the End button on her cell phone. Was she crazy for even trying to call him before leaving? They’d only met yesterday. And, yeah, she’d experienced a strong connection and shared some really amazing kisses with him. But the fact remained they didn’t know one another. She didn’t want to rush anything or push him away.
Her stomach grumbled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since the toast she’d made that morning. Not knowing what Sentinel Harbor had in the way of restaurants, she decided to stop along the way. Going by her parking lot rule—if the parking lot was full of same state license plates, it must be good—she stopped at a diner called Roll On In.
Finding an empty booth in the back, she took a seat and studied the menu that had been set on the table. A waitress ambled from the kitchen and placed a glass of water in front of Fallon. Tugging the hem of a light-blue shirt that sported the restaurant logo over her jean-clad hips, she said, “Can I take your order?”
“What do you recommend?”
“Oh, we’re famous for our lobster roll and coleslaw,” the woman said without hesitation. “If you like lobster, you will love this.”
She liked lobster well enough, and she was on the coast of Maine after all. “Sounds wonderful. Could I have a chocolate shake as well?”
“Coming right up.” She jotted the order on her pad and grinned. “My name is Jill. Just holler if you need anything.”
Fallon watched the waitress cross to another table to take an order from a couple who’d just entered the small dining area. The ten booths that lined three walls were filled with patrons enjoying their meals, and five of the eight tables in the center of the room were also occupied. Their conversations hummed through the air, the hearty chitchat a quaint accompaniment to the soft jazz filtering from the flush-mounted ceiling speakers. Lobster crates adorned light-blue walls, and skillfully rendered canvas paintings of fishing boats and ocean watercolors instilled a sense of the many faces of the sea. Just gazing at the pictures, Fallon could understand why some were drawn to a life on the water.
She glanced through a tourism brochure she’d grabbed from the airport and discovered a surprising amount of fun stuff to do—lighthouse tours, deep-sea fishing, and whale watching. Boston, New Hampshire, was only a four-hour drive. Scarborough Downs, a horse racing track, was near Portland, and Old Orchard Beach was just a half hour south from there. For once, she actually wished she had the time to explore.
It wasn’t often she had a hankering to take time off. She enjoyed the restaurant and loved firefighting—fire was in her blood. But every now and then, she experienced the urge to learn more about the world. God, she really missed Zane. How crazy was that?
The sociable waitress brought her order and presented it with an easy smile. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you.”
Lobster overflowed from between the edges of a homemade roll, and her mouth watered just looking at it. Taking a bite, Fallon moaned out loud while her taste buds almost popped from the rich, sweet flavor of the lobster. Good Lord, this is sinful.
When she’d finished her meal, Fallon contemplated the homemade strawberry shortcake. She’d seen the waitress deliver a serving to another customer a table over, and the dessert had appeared decadent, brimming with ripe berries over a generous slab of cake and what looked like a huge dollop of homemade whipped cream on top. For that matter, everything she’d seen emerge from the kitchen seemed homemade. The Roll On In had been a terrific find.
Even with a full stomach, Fallon gave in to temptation and ordered the shortcake. The berries and cream were too enticing to pass up, and after savoring every bite, she wiped her mouth, pronouncing the indulgence totally worth the extra calories.
The waitress brought her check over and while clearing the table, said, “So are you here visiting?”
“Business, really. I’m headed to Sentinel Harbor. My aunt recently passed away.”
She frowned and set the utensils on the plate. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear about that.”
Fallon dug in her purse for two twenty-dollar bills. “It’s okay, really. I never knew her. From what I hear, she pretty much kept to herself. It’s kinda sad.”
“It sure is.” She scooted the plates to the edge of the table and glanced at Fallon. “So. Sentinel Harbor, huh? That’s a creepy little town, if you ask me, with a creepy history.”
Intrigued, Fallon asked, “How so?”
“There’s an island about five miles off the coast of Sentinel Harbor. Strange things have been rumored to happen out there for as far back as when the place was settled. It’s kinda like one of those urban legends.” Pointing to the bench seat across from Fallon, she said, “Do you mind?”
“No. Please have a seat. This sounds very interesting.” Fallon sat straighter, giving Jill her full attention.
“Well, the stories go that people who snoop around the island disappear a
nd never come back. Their boats are never found either. Just poof”—she snapped her fingers—“disappear without a trace.”
Fallon fiddled with the straw from her shake. “You’re kidding. Surely the police check the island out, don’t they? Does anyone live on it?”
“Sure, an old woman lives out there. Alone, so I’ve heard. And, yeah, the police go and check every time someone disappears, but they never find any traces. The old lady never leaves the island.” The waitress arched an eyebrow. “There are town folk who’ve lived in Sentinel Harbor all their lives and never seen her,” she said, her voice lowering to conspiratorial tones.
Fallon shook her head and grinned, enjoying the spooky story. “Oh, come on, Jill. How would she shop, eat, get mail? That just doesn’t make sense.”
She shrugged. “Word is she’s got some lawyer who arranges for groceries and mail to be boated out there twice a month. He goes himself. All I know is she must have a ton of money.”
The story sounded reminiscent of a B-grade horror movie to Fallon. “So, people really go missing?”
The waitress bobbed her head up and down. “Now that I do know for sure. I went to high school with a guy who disappeared about ten years ago. Billy Lowell. He and his best friend Wyatt had planned to go out and snoop around the island, but Wyatt’s mother got into a car accident that night, so he told Billy they’d do it the next night.” Jill’s eyes became misty. “I guess Billy was too impatient. The next day, they found his sailboat missing. The police say he must have gone on his own and never came back.” She swiped a tear that had trailed over her cheek. “I was going to marry that boy.”
Having experienced loss herself, empathy rippled through Fallon. “I am so sorry, Jill. I lost my dad a while back, but we knew what happened.” She shook her head. “I just can’t imagine how you coped.”
“Thanks. And, you know, even though it was so long ago, I still expect to see Billy on his boat out on the water.” She sniffed and, with a poignant smile, slid out of the booth. “Well, I gotta get back to work. You drive safe.”
“I will.” Unsure why, but needing to know, Fallon asked, “By the way, what’s the name of the lady that lives on the island?”
Gathering the dishes from the table, the waitress paused. “Serida Garrison.”
Chapter Six
Her aunt was the old woman who had lived on the island shrouded in folklore and suspicion? Shock flickered through Fallon again. She struggled to understand what the stories meant and how her aunt had gotten caught up in the rumors. Had people really disappeared out there? Focusing on the road, Fallon tried to shake the uneasiness that had plagued her since leaving the diner, but so many questions tumbled around inside her head.
She peered through the windshield, wishing it wasn’t pitch-black outside. For eight-thirty at night, the old back road she traveled had become notably barren. Nothing but woods to her left and rocky coastline to her right. The lack of other headlights left her unsettled, adding to her anxiety.
A bolt of lightning broke from the night sky, momentarily illuminating her surroundings and somehow causing the trees hanging over the road to appear more ominous—as if they reached down for her. At once, fat raindrops pelted the windshield, blurring her view. The only warning of the storm had been that single snap of jagged brilliance across the sky.
She flipped on the wipers and glanced at the GPS. Ten more miles remained until she reached Sentinel Harbor—couldn’t be soon enough. Fallon was accustomed to wilderness, but the deserted road and sudden storm reminded her of something straight from a Stephen King novel.
Another round of fireworks lit up the road followed by a loud boom that cracked the air. Just before the glow faded, Fallon caught sight of something in the road ahead. Squinting to distinguish the image, Fallon jolted, her breath jamming in her throat.
Zane stood in the middle of the road, illuminated by the car’s headlights.
She slammed on the brakes, but the tires wouldn’t catch on the water-slicked asphalt. She yanked the wheel hard to the right, and the car swerved, sliding toward the shoulder of the road. The high-pitched wail of metal-on-metal met Fallon’s ears, the front quarter panel of the rental tearing against the guardrail. She jammed her foot on the brake pedal, but the car seemed to have a mind of its own. Out of control, the vehicle broke through the steel-backed barrier and plunged over the edge of the bank.
“Oh my God!” Fallon gripped the steering wheel, no choice but to anticipate the impact.
Wind whistled around the car. The engine revved, the tires no longer in contact with the pavement. For a moment, the sedan vaulted through the air, the headlights revealing nothing but darkness beyond.
Fear consumed her, snatched her breath, stinted her thoughts.
The vehicle arced, the nose dipping until rocks and water filled the view through the windshield. Heart thrashing against her sternum, Fallon screamed.
The right front bumper smashed into the rocky embankment, and for a split second, her face impacted a huge pillow. The scent of smoke filled her nostrils, and a white powder dusted the air. The back end of the car lifted up, and Fallon jolted but the seatbelt held her in place. The sound of metal crumpling reverberated through the car, the sedan’s roof slamming against the rocks.
Fallon moaned and forced her eyes open. The green dashboard lights glared over the chunks of glass littering the interior. The windshield had disintegrated, replaced with an immense slab of granite. Pain bit at her knee, shoulder, and face. God, she hurt.
A briny scent pervaded the car. The sound of water lapping against metal worked its way through her fogged brain. The ocean?
The seatbelt dug into her abdomen and across her chest. She had to get out. She couldn’t think hanging upside down like this.
Pressing one hand to the rumpled headliner, she attempted to prop herself up. With her other hand, she released the buckle. Free of her restraints, she tumbled from the driver’s seat to thud onto the vehicle’s roof.
“Shit.”
Snagging her purse, Fallon wriggled across the car and squeezed through the shattered passenger window. Rain met her outside, soaking her in an icy wash. Crawling away from the sedan, she rolled over into a sitting position to catch her breath and take stock of her injuries. It seemed every inch of her ached.
Over the water, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. For a moment, Fallon caught sight of the car. The destruction caused her breath to hitch. Half the roof was crumpled. Two-thirds of the sedan lay immersed in water. A chill hammered down her spine and spread through her body, inciting an uncontrollable shaking.
How had she survived?
She hugged her knees, attempting to stop the trembling. It didn’t matter how she’d endured the horrific crash, only that she had. Right?
A jagged fork of lightning dashed to the ocean not far off the coast. Thunder rattled the air, accompanied by a bass grumble. The noise vibrated the sky, and Fallon’s skin prickled with the electricity saturating the air. She glanced up the rocky embankment. Should she attempt to climb up to the road?
Wind whipped around Fallon, battered her with insistent hands shoving her toward the sea. She braced herself next to a boulder. The gust seemed to wail in frustration.
A growl of thunder rent the night, the bestial sound closer than before, just at the edge of the rocks that dipped into the ocean. Fallon cowered near the granite, cold fear clutching her belly, her instinct screaming that something other than a rainstorm prowled the night. Peering into the darkness, she glimpsed a fiery set of eyes.
Demonic.
The malicious growl deepened then rose to a roaring shriek. The air vibrated with baleful intensity. Fallon scrambled backward over the rocks, her shoulders slamming into the jagged embankment. Oh, shit. What the hell is that thing?
She tensed, preparing for whatever might come at her. Her muscles strained, burning with a terror that iced her veins and demanded she run. But with a vertical wall behind her and dark, rocky terrain ever
ywhere else, where the hell was she supposed to go?
From nowhere, lightning ripped the sky, a blinding finger searing the night to impale the sedan. The gas tank exploded, and a violent fireball erupted, catapulting the car into the air. The blazing behemoth tumbled toward her, metal crunching over granite, steel shearing from the impact.
A scream tore from Fallon’s throat, a terror wrought from her very soul. Lifting her arms, she shielded her head and waited for the sedan to crush her. Intense heat engulfed her, and she risked a moment to lift her chin and watch her fate.
The car had fallen short. Less than a dozen paces. And even this close, she remained in danger. Flames shot toward her, licking at her skin.
She threw her hand out to block the blaze. “No!”
Instantly, the flames receded. Using the light from the fire, she scrambled over rocks to her left only to find a wide swath of murky seawater blocking her path. Here would have to do.
Wrapping her arms around her bent legs, she sat, prepared to wait for either help or daylight to arrive. She pressed her forehead to her knees. What had happened?
Tears bit her eyes and dripped onto her jeans. A deep, shuddering sob racked her body. Had that demon-thing been real, or had the car wreck knocked her senseless? None of it seemed real. Yet there sat the hulking mass of burning metal, not two dozen paces away.
She jerked her gaze toward the embankment again. Zane. He’d been in the road. Her heart pounded at the memory of discovering him in the car’s path. Had she hit him? Was he up there bleeding out on the side of the highway?
“Hey!” a voice called from above. “Anybody down there?”
Fallon scrambled toward the bank. “Zane? I’m here. I can’t climb up.”
“Hang tight. I’m coming down,” a voice bellowed, but it didn’t sound like Zane. The man descended the precarious slope and crossed over to her. “Jesus, lady, are you okay?”
Waltz into Fire Page 5