Chapter 1
Oregon, U.S.A.
Damn! There was a certain sick feeling in Mel’s stomach as she lost control of the vehicle and it began to slide across the snow-slicked roads into the oncoming lane. A horn blared as she narrowly missed a pick-up truck but that relief was short lived as a telephone post loomed ahead. She clenched the steering wheel tighter, trying to steer into the skid; muscles tensed as she braced herself against the impact that was sure to come. When it didn’t, she sent up a brief prayer of thanks.
“Stupid, snow covered roads.” Muttering to herself, she felt the car straighten out of the skid, wincing as the vehicle narrowly missed a farmer’s mailbox. Moving back into her own lane, she blew a puff of air up over her face causing her bangs to float up and then settle on her forehead again. Annoyingly, her long lashes kept catching in the too-long fringe of hair—she really needed to make time for a cut, she reminded herself—but she didn’t dare take her hands off the wheel to push her hair out of the way. Blinking rapidly, she managed to free her lashes and clear her vision.
The forecast had called for light snow, but the weatherman was obviously an idiot and didn’t know a high pressure zone from a low. Heavy white flakes were falling on her windshield and the wipers were having a hard time keeping up. Twice now, she’d stopped and wiped the accumulated white stuff from the blades. She shouldn’t have trusted the fellow at the rental agency when he said the car was fine, but at ten o'clock at night, after a long flight squished between a large man and a frazzled mother with a crying baby, all she had wanted to do was get a car, escape the confines of the airport and find a room at the nearby motel. Now, she wished she’d been a bit more particular.
A road sign proclaimed that her destination, Smythston, Oregon, was rapidly approaching and she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. She’d had a late start, being up half the night listening to planes land and take off and now her two hour trip had turned into four hours of white knuckle driving. She couldn’t wait to get to the bed and breakfast where she’d booked a room. A hot shower and dinner, followed by a nap were going to be her reward for surviving this trip.
In the brochure that lay on the seat beside her, The Grey Goose Tea Room sounded quaint and boasted luxury rooms with home cooked meals. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food, and she knew that even if the place was no better than a mom and pop greasy spoon, she’d devour whatever they had to offer. Her stomach was telling her it was long past feeding time. She glared at the snow that was messing up her schedule, all the while hoping her room was still available once she finally arrived at her destination. An oncoming transport trailer uncaringly doused her car in slush and Mel swore vigorously as her view of the road disappeared.
Quickly flicking the wipers onto high, she peered out of the streaked windshield and wondered once again at the sanity of taking on this particular job. It was a ridiculous assignment, but paid well, and since she was next thing to being broke, she couldn’t be too choosy.
After years of working dead-end retail jobs, she’d finally gone back to school, earned her high school diploma, and then enrolled in the journalism program at Northwestern University. It wasn’t the most practical course, her guidance counsellors had pointed out. If she was looking for a secure career, computers were the way to go. She’d thanked them kindly for the advice, but knew she’d never be able to sit in an office all day, every day. Being in one place too long didn’t suit her—she had ‘itchy feet’ just like her mother, which was probably why she’d constantly drifted from one job to another. After the initial thrill of learning a new skill wore off, she soon lost interest and found herself searching the want ads for yet another new position.
At least, once she was a journalist, an employer would pay for her to move around. It wasn’t a great wage, but it was something she enjoyed, and helped lessen the restlessness within her. Talking to people, visiting new locations, researching backgrounds; each day would be different or at least that’s what she hoped. Right now, she was taking a year off, being half way through the four year program and completely out of funds. By juggling two waitressing jobs and writing a few freelance articles, she was hoping to make enough money to go back to school next year and finish the program.
That was why this job was exactly what she needed. A lawyer, named Leon Aldrich, had contacted her on behalf of a client—a wealthy client, no less—to do some work as an investigative journalist. Mel had been a bit surprised to be contacted by the man, wondering how he’d come by her name. Mr. Aldrich claimed one of her college instructors had passed her name along and Mel had hesitantly accepted the explanation. It was against college rules to show favouritism, and Mel was curious as to who had put in the good word for her. The lawyer had merely smirked at her, saying she had been chosen from a number of other candidates. He added it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not quite sure what to make of the man, Mel had shrugged and listened to his offer. She needed the money and couldn’t afford to be too choosy.