Stranded
There
was a crime. There was a victim. There was a suspect. There was a
motive. Now all that was left was to find evidence. And the vehicle.
Detective Dylan Greene has now moved to Colorado, and he has been called by a woman who was left stranded in her car in the middle of a field...high up in the air.
Detective Dylan Greene has now moved to Colorado, and he has been called by a woman who was left stranded in her car in the middle of a field...high up in the air.
This book is a work in progress. I don't have an exact idea on when it will come out. It may be within the next three books that I am publishing.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
The phone rang for the fourth time. The answering machine picked up. “Ms. Anderson, your car is ready to be picked up.” The voice belonged to Harry, the car mechanic. The message ended, and Cynthia sighed as she looked at her “to do” list that she had started on a note card. It was filled and continued to the other side. God, please help me get everything done on this list. I am at a loss, and I am tired. As she walked toward the door, she realized that she almost forgot her keys. This was a bad start to what would become a bad day. She looked at her watch. 9:15. Only eleven hours forty-five minutes left in the day. The fifteen-minute walk to the repair shop gave her enough time to reorganize her life. Everything in the past month had been back-to-back. Her cousin had a tragic accident and one of her brothers had recently been in a drug bust. This was enough to put pressure on anyone, and with all of the other tragedies in her life, this was enough to almost make her crash. She had recently seen a psychiatrist due to the plane crash her mother had been in several years earlier.
At her arrival, Harry gave her the car key. He handed her the paperwork and she promptly started putting her John Hancock on the line. She handed him a check for $130 and some odd cents, just enough to cover the bill, and just enough to allow her to go on welfare. She had several hundred more in the bank, but she would have to pay rent soon, which would shortly put her in the red. She got in her car and started it. She looked at the fuel gauge. Empty.
When she was on the highway that led to her apartment, she pulled into the cheapest gas station, which was owned by her best friend. After she pumped the ten gallons that she needed to fill her car, she went in the convenience store. “Put it on my tab.” Her friend, Tabitha, was the cashier. Cynthia had worked out a deal with Tabitha that she would pay for her gas whenever she got the next paycheck.
Cynthia headed home, but something inside her warned her not to go towards her apartment. She headed there, nevertheless.
...
Chapter 2
Cynthia awoke with a jerk. Her surroundings were unfamiliar, but she was still in her car. No ground was in sight, just snow-capped mountains in the distance, and the atmosphere was thinner. She turned on her car and rolled down her windows. Looking out, she realized that she was not near her apartment. In fact, she was stranded in mid-air. She could hardly see it, but her car was dangling in mid-air held up by a crane. She looked for her cell phone to see what signal she could get, but her cell phone was not in her purse. In fact, most things in her purse had vanished. It was almost like a nightmare, but it was real. Clouds rolled along in the distance, and, to her best judgment, they did not look like rain clouds. She looked at the car clock. It read 2:15. If her calculations were correct, she had been asleep for almost five hours.
The clouds were closer now, and it was apparent that she would have a front-row seat for a storm that was rapidly approaching. This would not be her only time to see a storm from a bird’s-eye view. Her mind quickly recalled a time in her past where she was the closest to a storm that she had ever been.
Her father had taken her family camping on a mountain, and a storm was not in the forecast. At night, her family was around a campfire, about to go to bed, when lightning struck close to where they were. This upcoming storm brought back bad memories that she had had all her life.
This time, the storm started gradually. The rain poured all around her, not leaving one spot on her car dry. Lightning, then thunder, ensued. She was abandoned in an unfamiliar area in a thunderstorm. The lightning was an unusual purple and violet, streaking down from all directions. It appeared to be heat lighting, but Cynthia knew that heat lightning rarely came with rain.
Cynthia fell asleep, her arm resting on the door handle. In her sleep, her fingers pressed the sunroof button, and water poured into the vehicle. About thirty minutes had passed by the time she fell asleep. She awoke with a jerk, water up to her shoulders. Confused, she looked at the accumulating water around her and searched for an escape. She attempted to roll the window down, but the electronic machine was waterlogged. She pulled the door handle, which was almost impossible to open because of the pressure of the water in the vehicle. She attempted to open the door several times without success.
The phone rang for the fourth time. The answering machine picked up. “Ms. Anderson, your car is ready to be picked up.” The voice belonged to Harry, the car mechanic. The message ended, and Cynthia sighed as she looked at her “to do” list that she had started on a note card. It was filled and continued to the other side. God, please help me get everything done on this list. I am at a loss, and I am tired. As she walked toward the door, she realized that she almost forgot her keys. This was a bad start to what would become a bad day. She looked at her watch. 9:15. Only eleven hours forty-five minutes left in the day. The fifteen-minute walk to the repair shop gave her enough time to reorganize her life. Everything in the past month had been back-to-back. Her cousin had a tragic accident and one of her brothers had recently been in a drug bust. This was enough to put pressure on anyone, and with all of the other tragedies in her life, this was enough to almost make her crash. She had recently seen a psychiatrist due to the plane crash her mother had been in several years earlier.
At her arrival, Harry gave her the car key. He handed her the paperwork and she promptly started putting her John Hancock on the line. She handed him a check for $130 and some odd cents, just enough to cover the bill, and just enough to allow her to go on welfare. She had several hundred more in the bank, but she would have to pay rent soon, which would shortly put her in the red. She got in her car and started it. She looked at the fuel gauge. Empty.
When she was on the highway that led to her apartment, she pulled into the cheapest gas station, which was owned by her best friend. After she pumped the ten gallons that she needed to fill her car, she went in the convenience store. “Put it on my tab.” Her friend, Tabitha, was the cashier. Cynthia had worked out a deal with Tabitha that she would pay for her gas whenever she got the next paycheck.
Cynthia headed home, but something inside her warned her not to go towards her apartment. She headed there, nevertheless.
...
Chapter 2
Cynthia awoke with a jerk. Her surroundings were unfamiliar, but she was still in her car. No ground was in sight, just snow-capped mountains in the distance, and the atmosphere was thinner. She turned on her car and rolled down her windows. Looking out, she realized that she was not near her apartment. In fact, she was stranded in mid-air. She could hardly see it, but her car was dangling in mid-air held up by a crane. She looked for her cell phone to see what signal she could get, but her cell phone was not in her purse. In fact, most things in her purse had vanished. It was almost like a nightmare, but it was real. Clouds rolled along in the distance, and, to her best judgment, they did not look like rain clouds. She looked at the car clock. It read 2:15. If her calculations were correct, she had been asleep for almost five hours.
The clouds were closer now, and it was apparent that she would have a front-row seat for a storm that was rapidly approaching. This would not be her only time to see a storm from a bird’s-eye view. Her mind quickly recalled a time in her past where she was the closest to a storm that she had ever been.
Her father had taken her family camping on a mountain, and a storm was not in the forecast. At night, her family was around a campfire, about to go to bed, when lightning struck close to where they were. This upcoming storm brought back bad memories that she had had all her life.
This time, the storm started gradually. The rain poured all around her, not leaving one spot on her car dry. Lightning, then thunder, ensued. She was abandoned in an unfamiliar area in a thunderstorm. The lightning was an unusual purple and violet, streaking down from all directions. It appeared to be heat lighting, but Cynthia knew that heat lightning rarely came with rain.
Cynthia fell asleep, her arm resting on the door handle. In her sleep, her fingers pressed the sunroof button, and water poured into the vehicle. About thirty minutes had passed by the time she fell asleep. She awoke with a jerk, water up to her shoulders. Confused, she looked at the accumulating water around her and searched for an escape. She attempted to roll the window down, but the electronic machine was waterlogged. She pulled the door handle, which was almost impossible to open because of the pressure of the water in the vehicle. She attempted to open the door several times without success.
