Trouble Vision Read Online Free Page A

a flair for cooking that threatened to add inches to her waist.
    Lately, however, she’d started wondering what it would be like to be in love with someone like Rick. Not that she intended to do anything that crazy, but it didn’t hurt to fantasize now and then.
    She grinned, happy to see him. “Just taking a break. How about you? Closing the store early tonight?”
    “Nope.” He walked over to the armchair next to her and flopped down on it. “My new assistant started today, and I figured he could handle things for ten minutes while I steal a cup of coffee.”
    He started to get up again, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’ll get it. I need a refill, anyway.” Walking over to the table that held the coffeepot and an assortment of pastries, cookies and cheese crackers, she added, “How’s he working out?”
    “Pretty good. He’s got a lot to learn about hardware, but he seems willing enough.”
    “He’s young?”
    “Early twenties, I guess.”
    She carried the steaming mug over to him. “Want a snack?”
    “No, thanks.” He took the mug from her. “I suppose you heard the news about Scott Delwyn.”
    The moment Rick spoke the deceased’s name, the voices started whispering again. She shut them out and sat down, cradling her mug in her hands. “It’s awful. I feel so bad for his family.”
    Rick took a sip of his coffee and put the mug down on the side table. “He was a really nice guy. He came into the store a lot. He loved to talk—he was big on camping and fishing—and was crazy about his family. I’ll miss him.”
    Clara hesitated, then said cautiously, “I heard he fell from the scaffolding.”
    “Yeah.” Rick stretched his long legs out in front of him and studied his shoes. “It was raining last night. Must have been slippery up there.”
    “I’m surprised no one saw him fall.”
    Rick shrugged. “From what Dan said in the past, he was usually the last one to leave the site. He liked to check things out after everyone had gone. He must have fallen while he was doing his last-minute rounds.”
    The Sense crept over her like a thick, menacing cloud of evil. She resisted, trying to think of something to say that would banish the vision before it had time to form. She was helpless in its grasp, however, and she could only wait for the image to appear.
    Vaguely she heard Rick’s voice in the distance, still talking in normal tones. Praying that he wouldn’t notice her detachment, she concentrated on the swirling fog surrounding her. The walls of the Nook melted away.
    She was outside, in the dark. The wind caught her hair and whipped it around her face. She could feel the icy rain stinging her cheeks, and the boards creaking beneath her feet. She was up high, the ground maybe thirty feet below her.
    Panic caught her under the ribs, and her fingers closed around a cold, wet railing—all that stood between her and the ground below. She jerked up her chin and saw two figures in front of her. They were carrying something, half dragging it along the boards to the end of the scaffolding.
    As she watched, the taller figure dropped his end of the object they carried. And now she could make out the shape. It was a man, his head lolling back, his arms flopping around. For a moment the two figures paused, as if unsure what to do next. Then, with one quick movement, they shoved the man off the edge of the scaffolding.
    Clara closed her eyes as she heard the
crunch
of the body hitting the ground below. She felt sick, dizzy and deathly afraid. She gripped the railing harder and prayed the two figures wouldn’t see her.
    “Are you all right?”
    Her body jerked, and she opened her eyes. She was back in the Nook, and Rick was staring at her as if she had turned purple.
    For a moment or two she couldn’t speak, but nodded at him instead. Her right hand gripped the arm of her chair, while the other still held the coffee. She carefully put the mug down on the table, relieved to find her