Cold Chills (A Finn McCoy Paranormal Thriller Book 3)

by Scott Langrel

  Pleased with herself for coming up with such a clever plan, Jessica busied herself with choosing her outfit for the party. After tonight, her life would be nothing short of a fairy tale.

  Chapter Seven

  The wind was beginning to howl as Jon helped McCoy and Amanda take their bags into the house. The snow had condensed into tiny ice pellets which stung their faces and made their eyes water as they trudged up the front walkway.

  “We’re getting the back side of the system now,” John shouted over the wind’s roar. “The atmosphere’s pretty unstable. That’s why the wind’s picked up.”

  “Are they giving any additional accumulation?” Amanda yelled.

  “Couple of inches. It should move out late tomorrow.”

  John’s house was a single level brick ranch in the town’s only real subdivision. It was small, but as he was a bachelor, it suited his needs perfectly. And he was only three or four minutes from the station, which was convenient for someone always on call.

  As they reached the front stoop, John moved ahead and unlocked the door. He flipped the lights on and held the door for Amanda and McCoy. They scurried inside, their clothes speckled with ice and snow.

  “Look over the mess,” John said as he closed the door behind them. “I gave the maid the week off.”

  “Never trust a neat bachelor,” Amanda smiled as she removed her coat. “You have a lovely house, John.”

  McCoy gave the place a quick glance. “I’ll call Better Homes and Gardens in the morning. Right now, I need the bathroom.”

  “I’d say you do,” John said. “Down the hall, first door on the right.”

  McCoy hurried off, leaving John and Amanda to haul the luggage.

  “The spare room’s down here,” John said as he picked up McCoy’s bags. “It’s small, but there’s a bed and dresser.”

  “It’ll be fine. I really appreciate you putting us up.”

  “It’s the least I can do. I don’t know what I’d do if you and Finn weren’t here to help.”

  He led Amanda to a small but cozy bedroom. As John had promised, the furnishings were sparse. Amanda figured that McCoy would approve wholeheartedly.

  “Make yourself at home,” John said. “I’m going to try to catch forty winks, myself. My room’s at the end of the hall if you need me.”

  “Okay. See you in a couple of hours. And thanks again.”

  John nodded and pulled the door shut behind him. Amanda sat down on the bed and removed her boots. She really wasn’t sleepy, but she knew they had a long night ahead of them. She might as well try to get a nap in. Stretching out on the bed, she was surprised at how comfortable it was. The softness of the mattress coupled with the warm house instantly relaxed her, and she suspected that sleep might not be out of the question, after all.

  Moments after Amanda closed her eyes, a ragged-looking McCoy came into the bedroom. Amanda watched in amusement as he tried to take his boots off. His overstuffed belly simply would not allow him to bend over.

  “Bet you’re regretting that cobbler now.”

  “My only regret is that I have but one stomach to give for Mary Lou’s cooking,” McCoy answered. “That, and perhaps not having worn stretchy pants.”

  “I could have done without that mental image,” Amanda groaned. “Come on. Try to get some sleep. I have a feeling it’ll be a while before we’re this comfortable again.”

  “You’re probably right. Tonight may be a wild goose chase, but we have to do something. John’s desperate for answers, and right now I just don’t have any to give him.”

  “You still have no idea what might be doing this?”

  “No. I think the scent I smelled in the alley is a clue, but I haven’t been able to place it yet. Maybe a little sleep will clear my head.”

  “Judging from the sounds coming out of that bathroom, you’ve already cleared everything else.”

  “You’re just a barrel of laughs. Set the alarm on your phone for two hours from now.”

  “Why don’t you set yours?”

  “Because I don’t know how, and by the time you show me, you can already have yours set.”

  “Sometimes, your logic astounds me.”

  “Join the club, sugar,” McCoy said, and shut his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep and dreaming the dreams of the technologically impaired.

  ***

  McCoy awoke to a soft tapping noise. He bolted up in the bed, at first unsure where he was, and looked wildly around the room. It took several seconds for him to realize that he was in John Talbot’s spare bedroom. The knocking was coming from the bedroom door.

  McCoy rose from the bed and opened the door to reveal a sheepish-looking John.

  “Hate to wake you early, but the storm’s getting worse. We probably need to start getting ready.”

  “Yeah, okay,” McCoy said, rubbing his eyes. “Give us a few minutes.”

  “I’ll be in the den when you’re ready.” John pulled the door closed behind him.

  McCoy went back to the bed and gently shook Amanda. She groaned, opened her eyes, and regarded McCoy with an irritated look.

  “The alarm hasn’t gone off yet.”

  “Yeah. Well, apparently the weather’s deteriorating. John wants us to start getting ready.”

  “Oh. Okay. Damn, I didn’t think I was that sleepy.”

  They changed into their warmest clothes and went out to meet John in the den. The big man was at the window, staring out at the arctic-like conditions. He turned as McCoy and Amanda entered the room.

  “This thing has taken a major turn for the worse,” he said. “It caught all of the forecasters by surprise. They’re now saying we might get another six to eight inches out of this.”

  McCoy joined John at the window. The ice pellets which had pelted them earlier had been replaced by flakes the size of silver dollars. It was coming down so hard that McCoy couldn’t see John’s vehicle in the driveway.

  “You know I’m usually not a ray of sunshine, but this could be a good thing,” he told John. “After all, who the hell’s going to be out walking in this? It’ll probably make our job a lot easier.”

  “I hope you’re right,” John replied. “Because we won’t be able to see much if we’re patrolling from our vehicles. And foot patrols are out of the question, at least for any extended length of time.”

  “Have you contacted your deputies?”

  “Yeah. They’ll be meeting us at the station in half an hour. I’ve got Deidre, Frank, Gabe Hillman, and Lester Dolan.”

  McCoy eyed John dubiously. “You sure Deputy Frank is up to the task?”

  John shrugged. “He’s one of my best deputies. He’s a little talky.”

  “A little? I got a dissertation on the ride over here.”

  John laughed. “Yeah, but Frank has a quality which makes him very useful in this line of work.”

  “What? He bores suspects into confessing?”

  “No. He has an eidetic memory.”

  “You mean he remembers everything?” McCoy asked, surprised.

  “Pretty much everything he reads, hears, or sees,” John confirmed. “As I said, it’s a pretty valuable asset in police work.”

  “No wonder he sounded like an encyclopedia. He’s probably read them all.”

  “Frank has a flair for the dramatic, but he’s a good guy. If he starts getting too wordy, just tell him to shut up.”

  “I shouldn’t have any trouble with that.” McCoy looked at Amanda. “You ready to do this?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered.

  “Good. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Want me to go start the truck up first?” John asked.

  “No, we’ll manage. I know it’s bad out there, but I really don’t think anyone’s going to be stupid enough to go for a walk in this.”

  ***

  Jessica slipped her coat on and walked over to her bedroom window. An hour ago, during dinner, it had appeared that the snow had almost stopped
. Now it was back with a vengeance. Jessica didn’t know if she’d ever seen it snow so hard.

  Well, maybe that was a good thing. No one would spot her as she made her way to Hailey’s house.

  Jessica grabbed her cell phone off the bed. She briefly considered calling Hailey, just to make sure that the party hadn’t been cancelled due to the weather, but decided against it. Hailey would probably laugh at her and ask if Jessica was afraid of a little snow. Besides, if she got there and it was apparent that there was no party going on, she would just come back home. A short walk in the snow wasn’t going to kill her.

  Being careful not to muss up her hair, Jessica put on her knit cap and gloves, opened the window, and climbed out into the storm.

  Chapter Eight

  As soon as John backed out of the driveway and onto the snow-covered road, all of the lights in the neighborhood went out.

  “Damn!” the sheriff said. “I was wondering when this was going to happen. I bet a tree’s fallen on a power line somewhere.”

  “How long do you think they’ll be out?” Amanda asked.

  John shrugged. “Hard to tell. Could be hours, could be days. I’d guess the power crews already have more on their plate than they can handle.”

  “This might complicate things,” McCoy said. “People will be going outside to start generators, or getting kerosene heaters out of storage buildings. And with the streetlights out, it’s going to be even harder to see.”

  “So do we stick with the original plan?” John asked.

  It was McCoy’s turn to shrug. “There’s not much else we can do. I wish I could come up with something better, but it’s all I have for now.”

  John put the truck in gear and started slowly for the station. Before they made it to the intersection, the police radio crackled.

  “Dispatch to Unit Ten,” Deidre’s voice came from the speaker.

  “That’s me,” John said, picking up the mike. “Unit Ten, over.”

  “John, there’s a report of power lines in the road over on Mosswood. You want to check it out, or should I send one of the others?”

  “I’ll catch it on the way in,” John replied. “Is everyone else there?”

  “We’re all here. The emergency generators kicked on when the power blew.”

  “All right. Everyone sit tight. We’ll be there shortly.” He returned the mike to its cradle and looked at McCoy. “Guess we’ll be making a detour.”

  “Do what you gotta do,” McCoy replied. “A few minutes won’t hurt us.”

  John took a right at the intersection and headed toward Mosswood Lane. Already, he saw several residents come out of their homes and look up and down the street, verifying that the power outage wasn’t localized to their houses. John wanted to roll the window down and shoo them all back inside, but all that would do would be to create a panic. And that was the last thing he needed.

  The trip, which normally would have taken only a few minutes, took them nearly ten. John pulled onto Mosswood and immediately braked as he saw the damaged lines lying across the road.

  “I’m going to check this out,” John said. “You two can stay in the vehicle. No use in ya’ll getting cold and wet just yet.” He opened the door and stepped out into the blizzard, leaving the vehicle running.

  “I hope he’s careful,” Amanda said, worriedly eyeing the downed lines.

  “He knows what he’s doing. Besides, the lines are probably dead. I don’t see any arcing going on, and—″ He broke off in mid-sentence and became still, as if listening intently for something.

  “What?” Amanda asked.

  “I’m not sure. Stay here with John. I’m going to have a look around.”

  “Like hell.”

  “I’m just going to check something out. I promise I won’t go far, and I won’t be gone more than a minute. Just sit here in case John needs anything, okay?”

  Amanda seemed unconvinced. “You felt something, didn’t you?”

  “It was just a faint trace. It could have been anything. I just want to check it out really quick.”

  “Well, okay. But don’t wander off. If I lose sight of you, I’m coming after you.”

  McCoy nodded and, taking his walking stick, exited the SUV. The wind nearly snatched his hat from his head, and he wished that he had brought the knit cap, after all. John, busy inspecting the lines, hadn’t noticed him leave the vehicle. He started to yell to the sheriff, but something made him hold his tongue.

  He caught a second whiff, this one a little stronger. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought it was the same thing he’d felt back in the alley where Katie Daniels had been killed. There was even a hint of that flowery aroma, though, as familiar as it was, he still couldn’t place where he’d smelled it before.

  McCoy scanned the street and sidewalks in either direction. Visibility was so low that he had a hard time making out even John’s massive figure, and anything beyond thirty feet or so was nothing but a white blur. He pushed his senses out to their limits, got a faint hit, and began walking back in the direction they’d come.

  ***

  Jessica was beginning to question the wisdom of her plan. The snow was much deeper than she’d expected, and she hadn’t thought to wear boots, having instead opted for more fashionable sneakers. Now, her feet were already wet and freezing, and the stylish jacket she’d chosen did little to deflect the chill of the raging wind.

  But she was over halfway there, and there was no point in turning back now. Surely she could weather the discomfort for a few more minutes. After all, her entire future depended on it.

  She also hadn’t expected the power to go out, and that added a wrinkle to her finely-crafted plan. Her parents would be sure to check on her now. And, with the electricity now off, would Hailey cancel her party? She probably would, so it was a safe bet that Jessica would be discovered and grounded for nothing.

  That thought caused her to pause. If she hurried home right now, there was a chance she wouldn’t get caught. She could sneak back in and jump into the bed before anyone was the wiser.

  If Hailey rescheduled her party and Jessica couldn’t attend because she was grounded for sneaking out already, her life would be over. Sneaking out again would be out of the question, because her parents would not be so lax next time.

  Again, she thought of calling Hailey. But the howling wind would betray the fact that she was already outside. If the party had been cancelled, Hailey would laugh at her.

  Jessica made up her mind. She would bank on the party being cancelled and go back home. If worse came to absolute worst, she could always con her mom into taking her and Hailey to the movies after the snow melted, as a way to re-establish her place in the clique.

  She turned back toward her house, and stopped short as she realized there was a woman standing ten feet in front of her.

  ***

  McCoy stopped and looked back at John’s SUV. He could barely make out Amanda eyeing him like a hawk through the glass. If he went much further, she would be out of the truck and on him like a fish on a worm. Maybe he should just go back—

  This time, the psychic vibrations hit him like a ton of bricks, overloading his senses and nearly causing him physical pain. He dropped the walking stick and instinctively put his hands over his ears. In reality, he was hearing nothing. But the vibrations affected him the way a sudden, loud noise might. The flowery scent was overwhelming and sickening. He felt his stomach begin to roil.

  Amanda, sensing that something was wrong, jumped out of the truck.

  “Finn! Are you okay? What’s happening?”

  Ignoring her, McCoy raced to the intersection and looked down the road to the right. That was the direction the vibes were coming from, no question about it. He turned back to the truck and Amanda.

  “Get John! Hurry!”

  Pausing only long enough to retrieve his walking stick, McCoy ran into the storm.

  ***

  At first, Jessica thought that she was looking at her mother. Her mi
nd was already trying to come up with an excuse for being outside. But then she looked closer and saw that the woman was a stranger. The only resemblance to her mother was the long, dark hair.

  Something about the woman’s gaze and posture unsettled Jessica. It wasn’t that the woman appeared to be threatening; she was even smiling at Jessica. But something about her just felt wrong. And the fact that the woman was wearing only a thin, white nightgown did nothing to dispel Jessica’s concerns.

  The woman motioned to Jessica, a slight hand movement. Come here, the gesture said. Don’t be afraid. I have something special to show you.

  Jessica hesitated. On one hand, there seemed to be no reason not to move closer. Maybe the woman needed help. Perhaps she had simply lost her dog or cat, and wanted to ask Jessica if she’d seen the pet.

  On the other hand, though, there was definitely something creepy about this lady. Some childhood instinct, a thing which she had not completely outgrown, warned against going to the woman. To the contrary, that small part of her told her to run and not look back.

  Jessica neither advanced nor fled. She simply stood, examining her conflicting emotions, unsure of what to do. Likewise, the woman made no move to advance on Jessica, though her hand gestures were becoming increasingly more urgent.

  Slowly, Jessica felt herself being drawn toward the woman. It was several moments before she realized that her feet were moving, shuffling hesitantly down the sidewalk toward the strange lady. She noticed a numbness spreading through her body, a feeling that could not be entirely attributed to the cold. Though this should have concerned her, she felt eerily apathetic about the situation. Time seemed to stand still. She felt the weight of each snowflake as it landed on her face, heard the impact as each one settled lightly on the ground.

  And then there was something else. A man’s voice, yelling.

  “Kid! Hey, kid! Look away! Look at me!”

  Startled, Jessica looked away to see a man running toward her. He was carrying some sort of stick and wearing a goofy cowboy hat. His shoulder-length hair was blowing across his face.