âI should get going,â Patrick said.
Shelby turned away to open the book-drop bin beneath the window. As she raised the lid, a long, black shape slithered onto the floor and coiled in front of her. A scream tore from her throat.
Raising its head, the cottonmouth snake reared back and opened its jaws, revealing its needle, sharp fangs.
Patrick vaulted over the counter and swept Shelby into his arms. The snake struck his boot, twisting its head to drive its fangs and venom deep. Patrick knew this was no accident, but why would anyone want to harm someone as sweet as Shelby?
WITHOUT A TRACE: Will a young motherâs disappearance bring a bayou town togetherâ¦or tear it apart?
What Sarah SawâMargaret Daley, January 2009
Framed!âRobin Caroll, February 2009
Cold Case MurderâShirlee McCoy, March 2009
A Cloud of SuspicionâPatricia Davids, April 2009
Deadly CompetitionâRoxanne Rustand, May 2009
Her Last ChanceâTerri Reed, June 2009
Shelby Mason sat bolt upright in the darkness, her heart pounding in her chest. The next shrill ring of the phone dimmed her nightmare-induced panic, pulling her back into reality.
She glanced at the glowing numbers on her clock. 3:14 a.m. Who would be calling now? Who else had died?
A third ring prodded her to pick up the handset. âHello?â
âShelby, itâs Clint Herald. Is Leah there?â His voice vibrated with anxiety.
Shelby pushed her long red hair out of her face. âClint, do you know what time it is?â
âI know itâs late, but Leah hasnât come back to pick up Sarah and she hasnât called. Iâm worried sick.â
Pressing a hand to her forehead, Shelby tried to make her sleep-soaked brain work better. The dregs of her fading nightmare made it hard to focus. âI havenât seen your sister since yesterday morning. Have you tried her cell phone?â
âDozens of times. It goes straight to voice mail. She dropped Sarah off with me this evening and said she had a meeting, but it wouldnât take long. Do you have any idea where she might be or who she was seeing?â
His concern was contagious. Shelby scooted back to lean against the headboard. âNo, but Iâm sure thereâs a rational explanation. Maybe she needed some time alone. The past few days have been really rough for her.â
âI thought of that, but she wouldnât leave Sarah for this long without letting me know. Somethingâs wrong.â
He was right. Leah always put her three-year-old daughter first. âHave you called the police?â
âThey say they canât do anything until sheâs been missing for twenty-four hours.â
âWhat? Her husband just committed suicide, and the police wonât start a search for her? Thatâs crazy.â
âI told them that, but it didnât do any good. Did she seem okay when you were with her? Did you see her talking to anyone out of the ordinary?â
Shelby racked her mind. âNo. She did seem preoccupied, but I assumed it was still the shock of Earlâs death.â
âAll right,â he conceded, resignation heavy in his words. âIâm sorry I bothered you.â
âDonât be sorry. Call me as soon as you hear from her. I donât care what time it is. Can I do anything?â
âAt this point, just pray.â
âOf course.â
After hanging up, Shelby swung her legs over the side of the bed. Sleep was usually impossible after the recurring nightmare she could never fully recall. Tonight, worry for Leah pushed her dream into the background.
Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, Shelby tried to convince herself that Leah was fine. It would turn out to be a simple misunderstanding. It had to be. Leah had been through so much already.
The frantic barking of a neighborâs dog abruptly shattered the stillness.
Shelby searched the cool wooden floor with her toes until she found her slippers. Sliding into them, she rose and crossed to the tall, narrow second-story window that overlooked the street outside. Pulling back the lace curtains, she pressed her forehead against the chilly glass.