And then she felt it touch her.
Skeletal fingers wound into her hair, pulling her back. It spun her around and all she could think was that the thing was evil. She could hear the thunder of her heart; she could barely breathe. The noise of her pulse was deafening….
She screamed again, wrenched free, bolted for the front door and threw it open, letting Waldorf slip to the ground and run on his own, her only thought—escape!
She raced into the night….
On to Elizabeth Street.
And into the headlights of a coming car.
Chapter 1
“I feel like an absolute idiot, calling you down here for this. I mean…well, I think that Kathy just…freaked herself out,” Colby Kennedy told Michael Quinn. “But, she’s my sister. I love her. And she’s terrified. The doctors told me they were so worried about her sanity that they were afraid she was going to hurt herself more than she was already hurt if she was left alone. Of course, Traci and I made it back here in a couple of hours, but….”
Colby’s voice trailed as Michael Quinn studied his old friend. He could see that Colby was twisted, torn and lost. He loved his only sister.
At Quinn’s side, Danni Cafferty spoke up, her voice filled with empathy. “Colby—it’s all right. Please, believe me, we’re happy to be here, and we truly hope, with all our hearts, that we can help you.”
Quinn set an arm around her shoulders. Danni’s true sense of humanity was part of what he loved so much about her. Strange to think that they hadn’t known one another until her father had died—and that they’d started out almost as sworn enemies. But that had been because he’d worked with Angus when Danni hadn’t really known what her father had done—other than owning and operating a curios and local art shop on Royal Street in New Orleans.
But now they had been together for almost three years, in a relationship that was closer than any he might have imagined—and yet one that they seldom talked about. Danni still felt oddly about what they did and what they shared—dealing with the deadly and often very strange. Of course, he’d come into it all willingly. Danni had inherited the shop—and her father’s secret “business.” Still, she came at it all wholeheartedly and they depended upon one another and a small circle of friends.
This was a different occasion—and part of why he loved Danni so much. When he’d told her about the out-of-the-blue and desperate call from an old friend who lived in the Florida Keys, she had been willing to pack up within minutes, hop a plane to Miami and then a “puddle jumper” that brought them here, to meet with Colby Kennedy, at the hospital. Colby’s house was in Old Town Key West but right now they were in Marathon—a city comprised of a number of the small islands in the Keys—just about fifty miles west-northwest of Key West. There were no better facilities closer to Colby’s home for Kathy.
They sat at a table in the cafeteria drinking bad coffee. Colby’s wife, Tracy, was sitting with Kathy while Colby spoke with them.
“Thank you,” Colby said, his voice almost a whisper. It seemed he was near tears. “Really, thank you for coming. The cops thought that Kathy was on something—drunk or high on drugs. Then, when tests came back, they all thought that she was having some kind of an episode. A mental episode! She’s twenty-eight—and they tested her for early Alzheimer’s because of my mom. I know my sister—she’s a hardworking doll who has spent her entire life living in Key West—working mostly on short horror and sci-fi films. She doesn’t freak out easily. No—she doesn’t freak out at all. When I first saw her, she was under pretty heavy sedation and still convinced that she’d been touched by pure evil. She was really, truly terrified. By a life-sized horror doll. Oh, my God! She’s worked with so much more. Gory, horrible films that I can barely watch. I mean….” His voice trailed as he looked down at his Styrofoam coffee cup.
Colby Kennedy was a big man, fit, bronzed—in perfect condition. He’d played football with Quinn for Loyola years ago. They’d been friends—and then, when Quinn had gone off the deep end himself into drugs and alcohol—they’d drifted apart. Colby had always been a standup guy.
Quinn had actually been pronounced dead on an emergency room operating table before he’d become one himself.