Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel Read online

  FATAL IMPULSE

  by

  Lori L. Robinett

  Copyright © 2015 by Lori L. Robinett

  Cover Design by www.selfpubbookcovers.com/Daniela

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ISBN978-0692401774 (paperback)

  ASIN B00UB2U7WS (ebook)

  Three Creeks Press

  1880 State Road E

  Auxvasse, MO 65231

  9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Other works by Lori L. Robinett:

  Train of Thought: An Anthology

  Denim & Diamonds

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my friend, Lisa Oliver, and her mother, Cindy March, who helped me plot this story out during our girlfriend getaway in 2014.

  Do you like giveaways, contests and other free stuff? Swing on over to www.lorilrobinett.com and sign up - all I ask for is your email address, which I will never sell or give to anyone. In return, you’ll get exclusive content and special contests just for special readers!

  So … pop over to

  http://lorilrobinett.com

  and sign up now.

  And you’re back? Great! Let’s see what’s happening in Buccaneer Bay …

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader: How to Connect with the Author

  Sneak Peak: The Danger Within (Widow’s Web #2)

  About the Author

  1

  Andi felt her husband’s glare from across the room, like a red hot laser boring into her. She nodded and smiled as the gray haired gentleman beside her at the bar talked, but she didn’t hear his words. Instead, she plotted her escape before Chad got any angrier.

  She raised two fingers in the air and caught the bartender’s attention. “Two red wines, please.”

  The man continued, his eyes bright with enthusiasm, “There is treasure on this island, just waiting to be discovered. The geology is right for it.”

  The brunette behind the counter set two glasses on the bar. Andi picked them up by the stems and murmured to the man beside her, “Good luck with finding that tanzanite.”

  “Tourmaline,” he corrected her.

  She turned away and froze. Chad stood in front of her, inches away. His steel gray eyes bored into hers, narrowed and suspicious. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?”

  She blinked and turned towards the man. “Chad, this is Mr. Franklin. Mr. Franklin, this is my husband, Chad Adams.”

  The man stuck his hand out, “Nice to meet you, Chad.”

  “It’s Doctor.” Chad grasped the man’s hand and pumped it once, “Dr. Adams.”

  The man hesitated, then said, “Dr. Adams, then. Please, call me Carl.”

  The chill in Chad’s voice matched his eyes. “How do you know my wife?”

  Andi handed her husband a glass of wine. “We just met.”

  “I own a jewelry store in Buccaneer Bay.” Carl produced a business card from his breast pocket, “And I’m an amateur rock hounder. Afraid I get so excited about my hobby, I talk about it at every opportunity.”

  Chad took a sip of his wine, then settled onto her bar stool. “Really, why don’t you tell me about it?”

  Lightning slashed the sky above them, thunder rolled and the wind swept the rain in sheets across the blackness of the Atlantic that stretched away to the East. Andi hugged herself to calm the shivers. The wipers slapped at the rain while Chad berated her for the way she acted that evening. She stared out into the inky darkness.

  He glanced at her. “You act like you don’t know what to say or do when we’re out in public. You ignored me during dinner, and giggled like a schoolgirl at Carl Franklin at the bar.”

  He overlooked the fact that he monopolized the gentleman’s time after dinner, leaving her alone in a sea of strangers. He accused her of flirting with other men on a regular basis, and that night was no different. Hopefully the anger would get out of his system before they got home.

  “You make me look bad when you flirt like that,” he continued. “It’s not like Carl Franklin would ever be in the least bit interested in you, even if you weren’t my wife.”

  It never occurred to him that his wife found the man’s hobby of rock hounding to be interesting. His accusations stung, and he didn’t always stop with words. The two celebrated their sixth wedding anniversary the previous May, and she was determined to make her marriage work. Her parents raised her to believe marriage is forever, ‘til death do you part, so she would not leave him. No matter what.

  A sharp bang interrupted his tirade.

  The SUV swerved on the wet pavement, throwing her sideways into the door. The seatbelt grabbed and held her in place, and she braced herself against the dash with her hands. Her head jerked from side to side as the vehicle fishtailed back and forth until Chad slowed the Grand Cherokee. He held the steering wheel with an iron grip and guided the vehicle to the side of the road, the blown tire thumping. He set the emergency brake with a sharp yank, then turned to look at her, his dark eyes narrowed. He looked evil in the amber glow of the instrument panel.

  The interior light blinked on when he opened his door, bathing the inside of the vehicle with harsh light. He started to get out, then paused, one foot in, one foot out, and turned to stare at her.

  “I had control. There is no need to grab the dash like that. As you may recall, this vehicle is equipped with airbags. Had they deployed, your arms would have been broken.” That low, smooth voice that had once impressed her now gave her chills. “Snap.”

  The door slammed shut behind him and darkness washed over her. She bit her lower lip, angry at the tremble she felt at his sharp words. She watched the driver side mirror as he stalked around and opened the back hatch. He shoved his golf clubs to the side and yanked the jack out of the back of the SUV.

  She took a deep breath and got out. With winter’s last gasp, the rain plastered her thick hair against her head and the clothes against her back. Her thin, sequined jacket did little to protect her from the cold rain that stung like needles where it struck her exposed skin. Her heels sank into the soft shoulder with every step, and th
e wind pushed her so hard her left leg bumped the steel guardrail. She glanced over the rail. The angry waves crashed into the rocks far below them, but she couldn’t see anything but darkness.

  He cursed under his breath as she squeezed past him, then said, “Make yourself useful and hold the damned flashlight for me. There’s one in the emergency kit.”

  A dark colored sedan splashed water as it sped by. She reached in the back and fumbled around for the flashlight. Her fingers closed around the black metal barrel of the Maglite. The beam sliced through the night as she took up a position just behind her husband and shone the light wherever he directed. The wind whipped and howled around them. Chills racked her body and her hands shook, which made him madder by the minute.

  Finally, he yanked the shredded tire off and lifted the spare on. After a few spins of the tire iron, he let the jack down with a thump and rolled the shredded tire past Andi, then settled the jack and iron back into their places. He stuck out a hand and demanded her jacket.

  “What?” She blinked as a raindrop struck her in the eye.

  He shook his hand in her face. “Your coat. Give it here. I need something to lay the old tire on so the carpet doesn’t get dirty.”

  She shivered in the rain while he spread her black sequined wrap out and laid the muddy tire on top of it. He slammed the hatch shut, then turned to sneer at her. “It’s a wonder I got that thing changed with you shaking that light around all over the place.”

  She opened her mouth to apologize, but stopped when his eyes narrowed. He grabbed her ponytail and jerked down, forcing her to look up at him.“It’s a damned good thing you’ve got me around to take care of you – you never could have kept control when that tire blew, and you sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to change a tire in good weather, much less in the driving rain like this.” He released her ponytail and poked her chest with his index finger, hard. “Stupid bitch.”

  He laughed that cruel, mocking laugh of his and rocked back on his heels, his head thrown back. Lightning flashed across the sky, and he looked like a madman. His laugh echoed around them, mixed with the roar of the waves, as though the ocean itself was mocking her.

  She tightened her grip on the Maglight, and swung it like a baseball bat, just like she’d been taught that summer she played softball as a kid back in Missouri. He blinked and stammered as he stepped backwards. The back of his knee hit the guardrail and he tipped over, his legs flying up in slow motion. He looked at her as he fell, eyes wide with surprise, and then he was gone. His scream echoed against the cliff and then there was silence.

  The flashlight felt heavy in her hand.

  The emergency flashers continued their steady throb.

  Thunder shook the ground beneath her. She stood there, numb, staring down into the darkness.

  2

  A vehicle approached, slowed and stopped. A power window whirred down. A man shouted, “Need any help?”

  Andi stood frozen, raindrops tracing trails down her cheeks, as she faced the guardrail. Unable to move. Unable to talk. The Grand Cherokee’s red hazard lights strobed through the darkness.

  “Oh, dear!” A woman exclaimed. Shoes slapped against the wet pavement, until she stopped beside Andi. She peered over the guard rail then looked at Andi with wide eyes, “Did someone go over?”

  After a moment, the woman put her arm around Andi and gently turned her away from the cliff. No words would come. Andi couldn’t stop shivering. The gray haired man pulled a blanket from their trunk and gently wrapped it around her shoulders. The woman held her hand out, palm up, and said, “At least it finally stopped raining.”

  She patted Andi’s arm. The man stood on the other side of the car, talking on his cell phone. He glanced over the top of their white coupe at his wife and the young woman, but turned away when Andi looked up.

  He still gripped the phone as he came around the car. He said, “The police are on the way. You’re going to be okay.”

  Andi shook her head. She’d never be okay again. Her legs felt like spaghetti, and the edges of her vision darkened. She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She focused all her energy in an effort to keep from passing out. This couldn’t be real.

  The Maine State Police officers arrived in what seemed like moments, clad in their yellow slickers, quickly joined by a couple of cruisers from the Sheriff’s Department. The lights sent beams swirling through the night, the whole scene surreal. They whisked Andi away from the elderly couple and the older officer who appeared to be in charge looked her over. His brown eyes were cold, his tone businesslike.

  “I’m Sergeant Watkins with the MSP. Tell me what happened.”

  Andi sucked in a deep breath, then began, “My-my husband and I were coming back from dinner up at the Clifftop. We had a flat. He changed the tire and then … ” A chill ran down her body as the memory flashed through her mind.

  “And then what?” he prompted, pencil poised over a small spiral notebook.

  “He went over the guardrail.” Her voice cracked on the last word. She tugged the scratchy wool blanket tighter around her.

  He didn’t look up from his notepad. Just asked, “How?”

  She shook her head and swallowed the lump that threatened to close her throat. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what happened. One minute he was standing there and the next he was falling. Screaming. And then there wasn’t any sound at all.”

  His bushy eyebrows pushed together and his eyes bored into hers like lasers. “And where were you when he fell?”

  “Right beside him. I held the flashlight for him while he changed the tire.” Oh, dear God. Could this be real? She looked down at her mud-splattered high heels and pleaded, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

  A younger officer stepped forward and whispered to the Sergeant. The older man’s lips pressed into a thin line, then he nodded once and said, “Tell the EMTs they can go, then.”

  The ambulance had arrived with bright lights flashing, but drove down Highway 3 with only red taillights marking its exit.

  That was wrong. Andi could feel it. Panic bubbled up. Eyes wide, she turned towards the Sergeant and grabbed his arm. “Why is the ambulance leaving? Why isn’t someone going down to get him?”

  “This storm was bad, and the surf’s rough. Can’t get down from here.” He met her gaze, then his tone softened, “I can’t risk my men, ma’am. We’ll get the Coast Guard to help search in the morning. Buccaneer Bay PD’ll coordinate in town. You understand?”

  She sucked in a shaky breath, then looked at him, her arched eyebrows asking the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

  He motioned towards the inky darkness to the East, “We may not be able to find him. The currents may pull the body out to sea.”

  A police detective stepped forward, a thick, sturdy man with a stern face. He swept his hat off, exposing a ring of sparse gray hair fighting to keep baldness at bay, and nodded to her. “Bet the body floats in tomorrow morning. Next day at the latest.”

  The Sergeant frowned at the older man, “We’ll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings.”

  The detective harrumphed, then turned to face Andi. “Detective Gerald Johnson with the Buccaneer Bay Police Dept, ma’am.”

  Andi nodded, but it felt like a dream as she let the younger man lead her to his patrol car. She climbed into the back seat, alone, and watched the full moon peek out from behind the storm clouds as they rolled out across the Atlantic. Numbness began to set in, then there were bits and pieces, sleep and wakefulness, dreams and nightmares, but mostly numbness.

  She woke up in their king-sized bed, alone. A half-empty glass of water sat next to an amber bottle of prescription pills on the nightstand. Sunlight filtered in around the edges of the drawn shades. The clock said 10:52. She pushe
d herself up from the bed, then remembered.

  Lightning.

  Thunder.

  Chad’s steel gray eyes, wide with surprise.

  Shivering in the rain as she stared down into the darkness.

  Her legs turned to rubber and she sat back down with a thump. The edges of the room tilted. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing.

  In, out.

  In, out.

  Blood rushed in her ears. She remembered. Against the blackness of her eyelids, she saw the two of them on the shoulder of that blacktop road, like a movie stuck in an endless loop. He threw his head back, laughing, and she swung. Did he slip on the wet gravel? Did the flashlight hit him? She didn’t know. She couldn’t remember. Was it murder? Or a horrible accident? Would anyone believe it was an accident?

  She opened her eyes and pressed her hand to her chest as her heart thudded. It hurt, an actual physical hurt, deep inside. After a few minutes, her heartbeat slowed. Her thick terry cloth robe hugged her as she stumbled across the room. The door swung open with a creak, the doorknob held her weight and blood throbbed in her ears. For a moment, nausea threatened. She hurried into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, then waited for the feeling to pass. She ran a brush through her thick, dark hair, then smoothed it back into a loose pony tail. Her movements felt mechanical. Dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes made her look older than her 27 years.

  Voices floated up from the kitchen, so she made her way along the hallway and down the stairs. Every step was like slogging through quicksand. The familiar voices beckoned her. Then it occurred to her – how long had it been? Had they drugged her?