Reeling from the deaths of her ex-husband and their nine-year-old daughter, Meg Evans suspects foul play in the mysterious auto accident. Clues lead her to Gemini Island, where she goes undercover cataloging Northwest Indian artifacts while conducting her own investigation. She doesn't count on having to work with the enigmatic and handsome Eric Richards.
Artifact expert Eric has hidden reasons for coming to Gemini, and he doesn't relish working with anyone who might thwart his search for answers. Will they keep their true identities and their missions hidden? Or can they learn to trust each other and together discover Gemini's terrible secret?
Page Count: 234
Word Count: 55230
Meg sits next to Johnny in the front seat of his SUV. Alyssa is asleep in the back seat. They’re driving through the darkness and the rain. Johnny steps on the gas and the car races forward.
“You’re driving too fast!” she yells. “You’re drunk!”
He turns, his handsome features twisted into a sneer.
A bolt of lightning illuminates the road ahead. The pavement is as shiny as a new nickel.
“There’s a curve! Slow down!”
Thunder rolls across the sky, and Johnny hits the brakes. But it’s too late. The SUV skids and crashes through the guardrail. Meg screams as they sail over the cliff.
A shout echoes into the night.
Gasping for breath, Meg bolted upright in the bed. The nightmare again—the one about Johnny and Alyssa’s accident. The awful dream had plagued her since that fateful night. Of course, she had not been in the car with Johnny and Alyssa when it went over the cliff. But in the dream, she always was with them.
Tonight’s dream was different. The shout at the end sounded real, as though it came not from her dream but from outside her cottage. Meg tilted her head and listened. Two more shouts rang out, the second lower in timbre than the first. Two people?
The disruption came from behind her cottage. She climbed from bed and crept to the window. Parting the blinds, she peered out. Beyond the patio and a small patch of grass lay thick, dark woods. She unlatched and pushed open the window. Cool, damp air rushed in, along with the sound of rustling in the underbrush.
Without stopping to consider the possible consequences, she shut the window and grabbed her jeans. She tugged them on, pulled a sweatshirt over her head, and stuffed her feet into her tennis shoes. Digging into her suitcase, she found the miniature flashlight she’d brought and slipped it into her pocket.
She ran down the stairs and along the hallway to the back door. Once outside, she paused to get her bearings. Moonlight outlined two wooden Adirondack chairs and several flower boxes on the patio. Beyond lay a patch of the grass with a dirt path leading into the woods. Taking a deep breath, she headed toward the path.
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