Copyright © 2009 Carlene Rae Dater
All rights reserved, Wild Child Publishing.
“I need a good idea on how to kill someone,” Carol Reston said.
David stood panting inside the front door, his face the color of slate. She could smell his acrid sweat clear across the room. Chauncy crouched at his side huffing and drooling, his large pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.
Terror shot through Carol. She knew that rattlesnakes were active in the brown hills around their house. One bite could kill Chauncy. And at forty-two, David was entering heart attack country. “David, honey, are you all right?”
His head bobbed up and down and he struggled for breath.
“A body. In the hills. Woman. Dead.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty good. I can work with that. Okay, you win.”
“This isn’t about your book, Carol! It’s real!” He bent over, resting his hands on his knees, sucking in air, trying to catch his breath.
“9-1-1. Call 9-1-1. I found a woman’s body up in the hills.” A glaze of moisture filled his eyes. “She didn’t have a face, Carol. The woman didn’t have a face.”