Series: If you leave that stray cat in your house, Martha, you'll be smelling her dead owner till spring, the deputy told me on the porch.

My foot was a dead weight, a throbbing agony that made it nearly impossible to stand. The root cellar, cold and damp, offered no comfort. [more…]

Julian Kross hammered against the oak beam, his roars of rage echoing from the mudroom. He rattled the door, testing its strength, then he began [more…]

The return journey from the mail delivery box was even worse than the trip out. My body was failing. My left foot was a block [more…]

Eldon Peck’s car crunched back down my driveway, leaving me alone once more. The groceries were a lifeline, but they didn’t erase the sting of [more…]

The pistol in Julian’s waistband glinted dully in the dim light. My blood ran cold, but a strange, defiant calm settled over me. This was [more…]

Julian stared at the fallen pistol, then at the certified mail receipts still clutched in my hand. His eyes darted around the room, wild and [more…]

Julian Kross scratched furiously at the paper, his breathing ragged, shallow. He was drafting not a retraction, but a desperate plea, a frantic attempt to [more…]

The smoke was thick, acrid, filling my lungs. The heat from the growing fire was intense, but it came too late to warm me. I [more…]

Nine months had passed. The leaves had turned fiery red and fallen, and the first dusting of snow was already etching patterns on the ground. [more…]