Chapter One
JoAnna lay in the darkness, wondering where her life had taken a hard left and leaving her stranded on an emotionally dark, treacherous, abandoned road.
She blinked, and her mind rolled right along with the thunder as she battled her own personal storm. Everything that had happened over the last few months was just one more strike of lightning, with every electrical bolt finding something on earth to destroy. The first strike – the sudden and suspicious disappearance of her mother – hit hard and knocked her down. The second strike – evidence of mismanagement of funds, theft and embezzlement – scorched her mind. The third strike – attempted rape and strangulation – cut even deeper and threatened to make her bleed out.
The road she thought would lead to safety only led to this strange place, during a dry storm at three in the morning. The darkness was only broken by the occasional flashes of lightning. At least the bed was comfortable, she thought, as she rubbed her dry eyes. They were still swollen from all the tears she’d shed, but at least not as swollen as her throat. She ran her hand down the length of it where a strong hand had been wrapped around it just hours before. Another explosion of light flickered through the room. When the room again settled in darkness, the only light was from the small bedside clock, which read 4:27 a.m.
She was engulfed in strangeness. In a strange room, on a strange plantation, in a strange place, owned by a woman she had never met. She had even gotten here with the help of a stranger. To make matters worse, she could feel Lucifer himself watching her toss and turn.
It’s just a piece of furniture – a double Lucifer. Some type of morbid antique armoire. She allowed those words to become a mantra, because even if it was just an old piece of furniture, it was still about as evil as it could get. She shuddered and pulled the covers tighter around her and thought about her first glimpse of the room.
The bed she was lying in was an antique as well, but not nearly as eerie. The mahogany four poster bed had cherubs carved around each post and the top frame. A canopy crowned the piece; upholstered in pale green silk, pleated and anchored in the center with a carved dark wood medallion. The matching down comforter, light as a feather, cool soft sheets, and fluffy pillows just added to its beauty. The ceiling looked like it was at least fourteen feet high, and the bed lacked only inches from touching it. The headboard was snug against the outside wall between two lace covered windows. The only other window was on the front wall, next to the door.
Her hostess called it a Strangers Room, originally designed as a safe place for people who were traveling. That may have been the purpose back in the 1800s, when the house was literally used as a plantation. Now, the entire plantation was being set up as a ‘strangers’ room’ – a temporary and safe place for women who were in trouble.
That certainly described JoAnna. She was on the run, hiding, and needed all the safety she could find. But was she safe? Hunted, yes. Today, though, she had also become the hunter. He wouldn’t stop until he found her, and JoAnna wouldn’t stop until she found her mom. A bolt of anger flamed deep inside, keeping pace with the strikes of the storm outside.
With his resources, she didn’t doubt he would eventually find her. That just increased her determination to do everything in her power to take him down when he did. To do that, she needed to find her mom. Somehow, deep down inside, she knew the woman who had been a mother, friend, confidant, and fierce protector, was the connecting thread to all of this. Her biggest fear tried to force its way to her conscious thoughts. What if Mom was dead? With what little mental strength she had, she pushed back, shoving that thought out of her mind. She just couldn’t go there.
Craning her neck, she looked up and over at the side window. Even the darkness trying to push through the window seemed strange and unsettling. She listened to the rumbling of the late summer storm and watched as another burst of white light sizzled through the darkness. It was as if the room itself was a sparking electrical current.
She reached up, gently rubbing her throat again. It was sore, and she could feel the heat from the bruising. It may have started out as being an angry red, but she knew by morning it would be dark blue and purple, shaped like the hand that had tried to hold her against the tile wall. His ultimate goal was to make her submissive at best, strangle her at worst. Idly, she ran a finger over the broken fingernail on her right hand. She could feel the unevenness where it broke when she used her fingers to claw at Tanner’s face. Her body ached from fighting him off. Thankfully, she managed to do just that before something even worse happened.
She rolled over, grateful the bed was comfortable. It was a small room, and with yet again another element of strangeness. There was no access to the main house – just an entry door from the wide front porch. Oddly, though, she felt as if the walls had wrapped around her in a protective stance. Still, it wasn’t her room. It wasn’t her house. These weren’t her things. Nothing was familiar.
Even though it made her feel unbalanced, she also knew it was a good thing. Better than being back home, which was no longer a safe place to be. Her own father was trying to use her as a pawn, trying to marry her off like chattel in a panicked attempt to stop the financial hemorrhage he had created. It was also possible he was hiding secrets about her mother’s disappearance. Home was also a place where Tanner could reach her. And his reach had become longer than she had ever expected. The crack of lightning and the resulting crash of thunder echoed through the room, then the room went dark again.
JoAnna reached up with both of her hands and rubbed her face. The angry tears that had been flowing all night had dried and left itchy streaks down her cheeks. She wanted to cry even more. She wanted to scream, throw things, and do some damage, all in the hopes of getting answers. She knew none of that would help. What she needed was time to regroup. Time to search for her Mom. Time to read through the paperwork she found on her father’s desk and copied. She needed leverage on Tanner Maxwell, and to figure out who Tanner’s father, Brady, had tucked deep in his pocket. Her gut told her he was at the bottom of all this. But to do all of that, she needed to think clearly. She needed to rest her mind and get some sleep.
As she rolled over and tried to get comfortable, she noticed a movement in the shadowy darkness. The corner, next to the double Lucifer seemed to be shifting. She froze and kept her eyes focused on the spot. At first, it appeared as if someone was standing in the corner watching her. A shadow. The shape of a young, possibly teenage boy. Before her mind could completely wrap around the idea that someone else was in the room with her, another bolt of lightning lit up the room. Nothing. The corner was empty, except for a shadow on the wall cast by a curtain waving in an air current.
She let a shuddering breath escape and laughed quietly at herself. It was a very old house, with probably more than its share of drafts. With her thoughts running rampant with everything that had taken place over the last week, her imagination was just working overtime. The room was secure; the door and windows locked. There weren’t any ghosts lurking, and Lucifer hadn’t stepped out of the armoire.
She shivered again at the creepiness of the armoire. Laine had said one of the cottages would be finished later today and ready for her to move in. It wouldn’t be soon enough. She already had enough evil in her life right now. She didn’t need a piece of furniture to add to it.
With that last thought, the bony hand of exhaustion pushed her down, and she fell into an uneasy sleep.
If you enjoyed the excerpt from Book 2 in the Strangers series, there’s more of the story waiting.