The Beginning Comes Quietly von Susan J.P. Owens

 

Chapter One

Peyton Adams slid the gearshift into park and exhaled. The air ruffled her hair then settled, tickling her face. The drive to get to her best friend’s mountain home and guest cabins had been intense. She’d taken the back routes which added to the long journey and the snow-covered roads were dangerous. As if the treacherous highways weren’t a big enough concern, with Peyton’s problems that dragged her into the depths of hell, she thanked her lucky stars she made it in one piece.

How could she begin to explain what was happening to her, when she didn’t fully understand? The beginning came quietly, one death at a time. The rapid mental images rifling through her mind was like a horrible dream, but the nightmares happened during the day when she was fully awake. What sane person would believe this could really happen? Now, the unbearable agony debilitated her to the point of incapacitation.

There were two reasons for coming here. Jillian had an amazing gift and Peyton would need her friend’s healing hand with the headaches that always accompanied the attacks. Plus, she accepted a deadline to finish a screen adaptation for one of her books by Valentine’s Day.

She inhaled a cleansing breath, releasing it between thinned lips. “Think you can complete this project in eight weeks? Maybe next time, you won’t let your mouth overload your ass.”

Tingles danced from the nape of her neck, traveling down both arms to her fingertips. The familiar signal changed to a pulsing rhythmic beat. Accustomed to the trigger, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel, closed her eyes, and gathered strength to persevere what was coming.

He wanted her to witness another murder. The assailant fed on the victim’s fear. Peyton’s muscles clenched. Sweat beaded on her upper lip while perspiration trickled down her temples.

A man wearing black—she could only make out an outline, never the features—ripped open the woman’s chest with a serrated butcher knife.

Pain sliced through her. The coppery smell of blood filtered to her nostrils.

The victim’s skin splayed, exposing tissue and bone. The killer’s arm arced. The final strike slit the woman’s throat nearly decapitating her.

Peyton clapped a palm over her mouth to keep from hurling.

Lights dimmed as if signaling the conclusion of a one act tragedy, then a curtain of darkness enveloped her mind. Despair and revulsion roiled in her gut. Incapable of movement, she was unable to defend or help, and the helplessness tore her apart. Even her psyche splintered into tiny pieces, too small to put back together. Maybe she was crazy after all.

Peyton blinked. Her breathing slowed. She swallowed the lump in her throat, taking the acidic taste with it. In the past, she’d only observed the killings by the demented psycho. Initially, Peyton thought she was hallucinating, but the national news convinced her otherwise. She straightened in her seat and checked her chest and throat for gashes or a puncture wound. Zilch. After a year of remaining a powerless bystander, this was the first time she experienced the victim’s pain. She sighed. Relief flowed from her head to her feet that the woman didn’t suffer for very long.

Nausea churned in her stomach like a smoldering cauldron of an evil brew. The attacker’s concoction prepared exclusively for Peyton simmered and fermented not only in her mind, but this time he claimed and controlled her body, and with each occurrence, his power grew.

There was good news, if she could call it that. At least the killer didn’t torture this lady like he had the others.

Damn, had she lost her mind? Comparing the deaths of each woman and ranking them on a scale of cruelty was beyond sick. Call it intuition, but she understood that the man, an executioner in every sense of the word and a spawn of Satan, would kill her before she had any answers. Peyton shook her head to dispel the premonition.

Her tummy lurched. She’d eventually be his target, and that frightened and irritated her with matching intensity. The realization she’d die an excruciating death by his hands terrified her, and the fact she was at his mercy for the timing aggravated the hell out of her. Her emotions fluctuated with severe ups and downs never fully balancing. One moment, she’d have a positive outlook, and the next, he had her figuratively tied in knots.

Her blurry vision cleared and her heart palpitations slowed to normal. Peering through the windshield, the Montana sky cast an eerie bluish-gray and the tumultuous clouds swirled. She shivered. Usually, she enjoyed the stroke of colors from nature’s pallet, but this was too close to her turmoil. According to the weather report, the heavy overcast would turn into the biggest snowstorm of the century across the area. Good thing she didn’t have to leave any time soon.

The Southerland’s majestic estate stood before her. Jillian and Richard loved this part of the country. Their home was always warm and welcoming on the inside, the very thing she needed right now. She glanced in the rearview mirror. Their stables, barns, and outbuildings nestled in the valley next to the river resembled a winter oil painting on a Christmas card. The only thing missing was a cardinal perched on a branch of an evergreen. Like a spider web, roads splintered off the expanse of the circular drive leading to private cabins for guests. She hadn’t been here in a long time and looked forward to the isolation, quiet, and the healing Jillian gave her.

Her gaze caught Jill and her best friend’s brother descending the cleared steps. Her breath hitched. Why she still loved her ex-fiancé, who ended their relationship, she’d never understand. If she’d known Cole was visiting, she would’ve made other plans. But she was here, and she needed Jillian. She would just have to keep her distance from him.

Somehow Jill’s presence alleviated the headaches and downtime after these episodes. Peyton climbed out of the vehicle, closed the door, and waited for her friend, purposely averting her eyes away from Cole.

Jillian wrapped her arms around Peyton’s shoulders and gave her a bear hug. “I’m so glad you came.”

Peyton drew on Jill’s energy, allowing Jilly to mend her broken mind and heal the searing hurt in her body. “So am I.”

“Are you okay, now?” Jillian whispered. Jill knew about Peyton’s secret but didn’t consider her a freak. Peyton understood her experiences were unusual. Hell, they were freaking bizarre. No one should have to endure this crap.

Peyton nodded. “Thanks, I don’t know how you fix me.”

Jilly released her, and Peyton ached with the lost sensation of her therapeutic touch. The only thing her best friend couldn’t give her was peace. Peyton doubted if she would experience serenity ever again.

Jill patted Peyton’s arm. “I’m glad you came. I tried to get Leah to visit, but she declined.”

“How is your sister doing?”

“Good, she’s in Louisiana elbow deep in research. Her cryptic voice mail gave me the creeps. She said something about sensing a need to look into a few things.”

Peyton wanted to ask more, but thought better of it. “Tell her I said hello next time you talk to her. Where do I—?”

“I’ve put you in number three, knowing you’d like privacy. You’ll love it. The lake is beautiful this time of year. When the sun comes up, the light reflects off the snow and ice. Cole can help with your bags.”

Peyton nodded at her ex-fiancé.

He grunted and jammed his hands in the hip-length, leather jacket. His mouth slightly curled up at each end and the familiar affection from his gaze tugged at her heart. Peyton surreptitiously scanned Cole’s onyx five-o-clock shadow covering his square jaw. She yearned for his whiskers to rasp across her skin at the one place no one had been since him. His eyes traveled from the top of her head down to her toes, and her libido danced with delight. She mentally kicked herself. Remember. He was the one that left without an explanation.

“I don’t need your help.” Peyton turned her back on Cole to discourage him from taking his sister’s advice and lend a hand. She straightened her spine determined not to succumb to her hidden desires and squelch the lust blazing into a firestorm. She’d made the mistake of giving her love to Jillian’s brother once and she would never give him or anyone else the opportunity to break her heart again. As far as she was concerned, successful relationships were for others, like Jill and her husband, Richard. Besides, she had more pressing problems to deal with. “Just point in the general direction, I’ll find it.”

“Sure.” Jillian pointed. “Take that road, and you’ll see My Heart’s Desire on the right. Cole, would you help Peyton get settled?”

When Cole stepped forward, Peyton conveyed her best go-to-hell look. “Don’t bother.”

His ice-blue sweater underneath the black coat zipped halfway matched his eyes which wreaked havoc inside her. Desire journeyed low and settled between her thighs. She shook off the erotic sensations. Damn her insipid propensities for wanting his touch. She assumed she had destroyed her weakness years ago, three to be exact.

“I don’t mind.” Cole advanced another pace.

“If you’re not busy, maybe, we can have coffee in the morning.” Peyton ignored Cole and waited for Jill’s answer.

“We’re having dinner in the main dining room at seven tonight. Please join us. Richard wants to visit with everyone. It’s been ages since we’ve seen you. I promise I won’t bother you again until our coffee date.”

“You never eat in the formal area, what’s the occasion?” Peyton inched closer to Jill and further from Cole.

“You, Cole, Christmas, New Year’s. I love this time of year.”

“I know you do.” Peyton smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

The drive to her residence for the next two months mellowed her jumpy nerves. Between the vision and seeing her ex-fiancé, she was rattled. Cole had the power to draw her in. One of many reasons why she’d made sure there were at least a thousand miles in between them. Since he was staying at the main house, she’d have to settle for a steep hill and one long valley. As for the mental images, she’d rather not think about it and made an extra effort to erase the malicious memories.

She stopped the car in front of the cabin and hopped out. The pathway leading to the front porch had been plowed. The blown snow piled high on each side drew her gaze to the entrance decorated with a beautiful wreath. The tips of the red velvet bow adornment flapped from the brisk breeze. It was these moments of life and tranquility she held onto, not the red carpet rides. Granted, accepting awards were awesome and thrilling, but the snapshots of her existence comingling with nature truly humbled her enough to remember she was on this earth for a brief period of time. She sighed and shook off the sentimental thoughts. Snuggled in those reflections was a key word. Brief.

Peyton grabbed her bags from the backseat and headed toward the door. Snow crunched under her feet as she followed the sidewalk carefully traversing up the three steps to a wide porch. Wood lay stacked against the one story stone structure. A glow emanated from the windows carrying the burnt offering of a warm fire. She smiled at Jillian and Richard’s thoughtfulness.

The whine of an engine thundered behind her. She whirled toward the sound. An ATV skidded to a stop. Long male legs straddled the seat, then they hefted from the vehicle.

“Cole?”

“Were you expecting someone else?”

“I wasn’t expecting anyone including you.” Cole threw her equilibrium off. He had the innate ability to cause and capture every passionate thread in her and just as quickly, with one word or look, unravel the tightly woven fibers of her balance and sanity. What little she had left.

Disgusted with herself, she pivoted to open the front door and slipped. Her feet skated in different directions. She stretched to grab the door handle. Her bags fell from her grasp. Some of the contents in her purse spilled, slid across the slick flagstone, dropping off the veranda one by one into the holly bushes.

The expletives on her lips begged to escape. Instead, she clamped her mouth shut. She picked up her handbag, stalked down the steps. She lowered to her knees and stretched her arm through the prickly plants to retrieve her things. “Ouch.” Trying like hell not to be jabbed again, she scooped up her brush, lipstick and the other personal items in one hand, then brushed the snow off before she placed them back in her purse. This was taking too long with Cole hovering over her backside.

“Let me help.” The sexy, bass timbre of Cole’s voice set fire to the dark lust she had put a damper on since he walked out of her life.

“No need.”

He chuckled. “Still an accident waiting to happen.”

The comment didn’t deserve an answer nor would she give one. The comb was the only thing remaining. She gathered it from beneath the sculpted landscape and straightened right into a hard wall. Cole’s chest.

He grasped both shoulders and spun her. His lips thinned and his brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

She tilted her head and viewed the man who towered over her by seven inches. “Like it’s any of your business.”

He snarled, and his finger pointed to her then him. “I think we’re Jilly’s victims.” His hands dropped to his side. “At first, I thought you were behind this. But when you first saw me. I’m betting you didn’t have a clue either.”

She inched toward the cabin, gaining more distance from Cole. The heat from his body permeated her coat and clothing, sizzling to her flesh. All Cole ever had to do was stand near her and erotic passion spiraled out of control, especially when he talked. This time wasn’t any different. “I need to get ready for dinner.” She opened the door, crossed the threshold, and slammed the door shut.

****

After the dinner of grilled trout and vegetables, the personal chef ended the feast with a Flaming Alaskan desert.

Peyton swallowed the last remnant of the sweet decadent reward she allowed herself to have during the holidays. “I’ll need to add extra exercises to my workout.”

Jill lowered her coffee cup on the saucer. “You’re welcome to use the gym and inside pool.”

“When’s a good time?”

“Our trainers are on vacation so we are too.” Jillian waggled her eyebrows. “Although, Richard and I do get our exercise—”

“Jill, too much information.” Richard rose. “Let’s have a brandy in the library.”

Richard winked at Jilly then scooted Peyton’s chair away from the rectangular table. “Ready?” He tucked Peyton’s hand in the crook of his arm. “If I hadn’t stopped her…”

Peyton nodded. “Don’t be embarrassed. Jill loves you and she feels comfortable enough to share with us her most intimate thoughts.”

“I know. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.” Richard smiled and guided her to a room of mahogany wood and rich, textured fabrics. The interior decorating had Jillian’s hand written all over it, masculine for her husband, yet the design carried a palatial flair and warmth for family and friends. The balance was extraordinary.

Cole escorted his sister and offered Jillian the empty chair beside Peyton. When he wanted to, Cole could be a gentleman. One of the many traits she had fallen in love with.

After Richard filled the snifters, Cole passed one to her and one to Jill. Cole returned to sit by Richard at the opposite corner while she and Jillian shared the warmth of the fireplace.

Jillian swirled the liquor in her goblet. The amber liquid reflected the flames. “I hope you’re not angry with me. I’m not giving up hope that you’ll be my sister-in-law. Although, I think my intervention might be too late.”

Jill’s heartfelt apology rang true. How could Peyton resent Jilly when she would’ve loved to have her as a sister? “I could never be mad at you. Besides, I’m over Cole.” Yeah, she’d lie to keep Jillian from feeling bad.

“You must be or you would still have on the bracelet Cole gave to you.” Jillian focused on her bare wrist.

“I lost it at the convention in New Orleans about a year ago.” Peyton rubbed the flesh she refused to adorn since then.

“You’re still having visions.”

Jill wasn’t asking. Peyton exhaled a lengthy breath.

“How many?”

“I’ve only had one today. So this is a good day.” Peyton laced her fingers together and placed her hands on her lap. She held back they were getting worse with every episode to keep Jillian from worrying.

“Does Cole know you have a gift?”

“A gift? Never thought of it that way.” Jillian always saw the glass half-full. She was not naive but grasped for the positive energy in the world. Peyton admired her best friend’s characteristic, because without a doubt her own outlook was far different. She glanced over at the two men deep in conversation and shook her head. Her eyes trailed over Cole’s broad shoulders, panning down his back to the trim waist. “This is the first time I’ve seen or talked to him since he broke off our engagement.”

Peyton disconnected her gaze, set her glass on top of the etched stone coaster intricately carved with a deer surrounded by the mountains, and rose from the winged back chair. “I’m bushed and need some rest. Thank you for a wonderful evening.” She kissed Jill’s cheek and hugged her.

When she straightened, Richard stood beside her. He circled his arm around her shoulder and nestled her to his side. “You doing okay?”

Peyton lifted her chin in a silent answer and returned his brotherly affection with a quick embrace. “Thank you for everything. You and Jillian have been a Godsend to me.”

Richard placed his hand on the small of her back. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s been too long. Let me get your coat and walk you to your car.”

****

The hearth in Peyton’s cabin burned a brilliant orange luminance as she cuddled on the couch in her extra-large warm ups and fluffy socks with non-skid bottoms. As predicted, the snowstorm hit an hour ago. She cradled the cup of hot cocoa, warming her fingers. The hypnotizing blaze soothed her frayed nerves from Cole’s presence at the dinner table. She was amazed at how strong she’d been to put up the walls of indifference toward Cole.

She reflected back to when she’d met him. The attorney from a prominent law firm she’d used frequently invited her to their Christmas cocktail party. She didn’t have time for dating and flew solo. Cole had been a junior partner and the multitude of women hitting on him during the social staggered her imagination. She’d resisted his overtures for the better part of six months, but his persistence broke through her defenses, leading to their first date. A year later, he’d asked her to marry him. She’d been on top of the world and ready to start a family.

Within several months, their connection died, something had gone horribly wrong, but she couldn’t point to a particular reason. Originally, she placed the blame with Cole’s work, except that wasn’t the answer. He’d become aloof and with the widening distance between them the vast void grew until her universe collapsed into a black hole.

Now, Cole’s last name appeared first in the firm’s string of attorney’s surnames, their wrecked relationship a fatality to his rise of fame and fortune. If only…those words were useless and she’d best remember her mantra, survival, just survive the next twenty-four hours.

She had other problems to deal with besides dissecting why Cole acted the way he did. She didn’t know how to overcome Satan’s spawn’s attacks or when he would strike again. Was she losing grip on reality? The question haunted her on a daily basis. Either way didn’t bode well. As long as the killer had control over her, she refused to date, let alone build an attachment with any man. She couldn’t allow anyone to be a part of her life. It was too dangerous.

A knock catapulted her out of her revelry. She placed the mug on the end table. “Come in.” Maybe she shouldn’t have said that without checking who was on the other side. She held her breath.

The cold whoosh of air carried the snowflakes inside and dotted Cole’s black hair. He closed the door and shook his head, flinging the icy crystals in a three-foot circumference while stomping his feet on the thick entrance rug. His long ebony eyelashes heavy with remnants of the melted snow shimmered from the indirect light.

Cole’s blue eyes gleamed like the proverbial wolf. “Thought I’d check and see how you’re doing.”

Her tummy quivered. One minute she despised him and the next, she wished he’d plunder her body. Heat infused between her legs, swelling in response to his presence and voice.

Cole’s million dollar smile twisted into a sexy slant. Mental images crowded past her barricades, specifically the ones where his mouth had given her pleasure. She often wondered whether he gave every woman the same gratification or had he indulged only her with his wicked and wonderful tongue. She grudgingly acknowledged the former rather than the latter. “Why would you care?”

“Just trying to be neighborly.” He shrugged.

The leather gloves he wore outlined his large hands. He tugged at the tips. Slowly, he peeled the material off of each digit, stripping his fingers naked. Cole’s coat slid off with one deft movement, and he pivoted to hang it on the hall tree. The blue jeans encased his awesome ass, sinewy thighs and calves. He utilized the bootjack, taking off one boot then the other.

Cole strode to the fireplace in his stocking feet, rubbing his palms together. The height of stone base rose to his knees. He positioned his right foot on the flat hearth, cocked his hip, then braced an elbow on his thigh. Cole seemed mesmerized by the flickering flames. He shook his head as if releasing his thoughts and turned to face her. His brows furrowed in a straight line. This was the first time she’d ever seen him unsure of what to say.

Give him a courtroom, he’d parry and thrust his points with finesse. Most people never understood he’d stuck the foil through their heart until they were left bleeding and gasping for their last breath.

“Would you like a cup of coffee or hot chocolate?” Her voice wavered under his scrutiny.

“No. Richard stocks the bar.” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Help yourself then.” Uncomfortable with the warring emotions Cole provoked, Peyton snuggled into the sofa, tugging the homemade quilt around her shoulders.

“To answer the inquiry lingering in your mind, I usually stay here.” The clink of ice dropping into a glass and the splash of liquid pouring intermingled with his whiskey voice.

“Oh.” Damn. She cleared her throat and tried to relax.

“May I?” He indicated the end of the brown leather couch.

She drew her knees under her chin, scooting her rear against the far armrest. “By all means.” His cologne and unique smell wafted past her nose, musky and all male.

He sipped the straight bourbon then gazed into her eyes. “What have you been up to?”

She hesitated. “Do you really want to know?”

He grimaced. “You always did answer with a question. I ask again.”

“Not much, you?” She squirmed, tugging the blanket closer.

“You parlay well and deflected the subject to me. But, I don’t give up.”

Cole didn’t chat just to have a conversation. His glacial eyes transformed once again into the carnivorous alpha male hunting for information. “Well?”

“Jillian invited me here so I could finish my work. You?”

“I’m taking some time off.”

Cole never took a vacation day let alone an extended leave of absence. She softened her words. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing, I wanted some R&R.”

An uneasy air filled the room in the quiet seconds that followed. “If you ever want to talk, I’ll listen.”

Cole snorted. “I’m not that hard up.”

Hurt slammed into her heart. “McLeod, you’re such a prick.”

“Glad to see I can still get a rise out of you, that’s a good sign.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard. I’m going to bed. Let yourself out.” She threw the quilt off, padded to her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

After two steps, tingles slithered down her arms, rushing to her fingertips. The room swirled with a kaleidoscope of dark, menacing colors and images. Her heart pounded and shrieks hammered in her ears. “Oh God, not again.” Peyton bowed her head.

Shivers escalated to tremors coursing through her extremities. Her legs gave out. She shoved her hands in front of her and softened her fall. “Ugh.” The carpeting had helped a little, but pain shot from her knees and elbows while the imagery exploded in full color.

The attacker had a woman in a death grip. His fingers tightened around her neck, and his thumbs squeezed her windpipe. The victim needed air. The lady’s eyes bulged then dulled.

Peyton struggled with the lethargy in her limbs. She tried to rip him away from the lifeless form, but she failed. Her lungs ached to release the sobs fighting to escape and to scream at the maniac for killing again.

He released the victim and spun toward Peyton. This was the first time she’d seen his face. She’d never forget his crazed eyes and pig nose. She drew her hands into fists and pummeled his chest. “You son-of-a-bitch.”

The man sneered. “Soon, my sweet toy…soon.”

His sinister laugh plunged through the walls of her strength, smashing the barrier into smithereens. Peyton choked. His breath stunk of Boudin sausage. She ceased struggling. All of her energy vanished. She slipped into darkness, letting the mystic sleep swallow her.