"Jody ran after her into Red's room and screamed when she saw what the dog has found: Red Bosch lay on his stomach on his bed, alone, his back a bloody mess, ripped apart by the bullet that killed him. In the same instant that Jody realized he was dead, she also remembered where she had seen the old Ford Taurus before and who owned it." (Pickard. p. 268).

#

Jody backpedalled, her arms shooting out and supporting her as she crashed through the door frame. If only she had known sooner. Her lungs seemed to be thrashing with the wild speed of her heart. Her entire chest thump-th-thump-th-thumping with her panic. She could feel Beast tense besides her, a low growl echoing through her throat. Eyes darting to the side, like a horse, Jody turned. The dark kitchen was between her and her only way out. There was the gentle click of a gun.

"Once." he spoke, the smell of alcohol reaching her nose, coiling through the darkness to strangle her struggling lungs. Her eyes flickered toward the scrape of a chair being pushed back. The sound ran over her skin like nails on a chalkboard. "He visited me once, and he wouldn't even let me have one of his guns. It's a shame, huh, Jody?"

Jody's throat tightened. She hated her name on his lips, words tumbling out of her mouth before she realized her brain had formed them. "You killed him! You killed Red?" She choked on the words, staggering back. One hand running against the wall, searching for something- anything- to use as a weapon against this man.

"Didn't kill your dear Dad." he spoke, flicking the light on with the end of the rifle. He was standing uncomfortably close to her. "But spend 23 years in jail as a murderer-" he paused, a wicked grin curling his lips. Jody could no longer tell if he was drunk. "And you become one."

#

Colin sat hunched over his desk. Fast food wrappings lay crumpled on the floor, half eaten and then forgotten. His trash can was over flowing. His office was dark, a single desk lamp irritating his tired eyes. He ran his hands over his tired face, groaning quietly. He hadn't shaved. Colin Crosby simply didn't care to allow himself the time.

Suddenly, without warning, he slammed his fist down on the desk. He flung his chair away, some paperwork fluttering away with the movement. He stood, leaning against the window and looking out at the small town of Rose, Kansas. His office was on the first floor, large windowed and hazardously not as large as it seemed. His office wasn't the only thing to appear bigger on the outside than on the inside.

It had been three weeks since his life might as well have ended. Three dreadful weeks with little to eat, little sleep, and little leads. He scowled. Colin had been pouring over the data, constantly bothering the police with possible leads on the case: Jody's case.

He started from different points- always starting from different points, it seemed. And yet, without fail, it always ended the same: a disgustingly dead end. They found Red's body shortly after they found his father's. Billy Crosby was found by the road on the outskirts of town, stone cold dead, one shot to the heart, and two to the head. The phone ran. He picked up faster than he could remember being able to.

"Hello?" There was a dry chuckle from the other end. "Hello? Colin Crosby speaking."

"Oh, I know, dear." His blood ran cold.

"Do you have information on the Linder case?" he questioned, fighting to keep his voice under control. Being in control was his sole lifeline.

"Why, of course," the woman on the other line drawled. Colin's skin prickled with goosebumps as she paused. A throaty chuckle scraped against his ears. His lips couldn't form the words. She continued, "I have your precious Linder. Jody, was it? I killed your father, too, I might have even killed Hugh-Jay." A husky laugh. " And you know what else I'm going to do?"

#

Jody awoke chained to a wall- or as chained to a wall she could be in Kansas. Dorothy wasn't the only one not in Kansas anymore, however. It was late afternoon. The light hit her square in the face. Her breath caught in her throat as a scream bubbled up. Chastising herself, Jody froze as she caught sight of the woman sitting in front of her.

She was beautiful in that darkly insane kind of way. And she was dead. Or she had been. Jody scrambled to make sense of what her eyes were telling her, but her brain simply didn't believe it.

"Oh, don't gape, darling. You'll catch flies." The woman lounged back in the chair. She was dressed elegantly, as if she was just heading for a high social outing. A sting of pearls hung around her delicate neck. Jody opened her mouth as if to speak, but her words were frozen in her throat. "You know, I never did get my spa trip." Laurie Linder's smile stabbed into Jody more efficiently than one thousand bullets.

#

Her voice flowed over Colin like a ring of smoke.

"I'm going to kill you with secrets, darling."


Hi, everybody! This was a summer reading assignment I had to do for school. The Scent of Rain and Lightning is a great novel, I wholly recommend it. I edited it a bit, but I know there are a few sentences that are long winded. I claim no ownership to Nancy Pickard's book and characters. Enjoy! I'd love some feedback, too.

Navigate safe,
Inheritance.