Prologue

I was taking my first sip of a beer when the loud ‘whoop! Whoop!’ of a cop siren shattered nerves, almost making me drop the can. Thanks to Afghanistan, PTSd was still a problem. just the slamming of a door was enough to cause debilitating reactions. Fortunately, I wasn’t going fast, having just left the town limits. Pulse hammering, I braked and eased onto a gravel shoulder, settling the Silver bullet down in the holder.

Light bar flashing, a county Sheriff’s SUV was parked on a side road, just off to my right. It was partially hidden by a screen of trees. I resisted a juvenile urge to toss the beer out a window. I sagged, waiting for the inevitable request for license and papers, questions, lecture and a ticket for the open can of beer. Just then, a breath of chill air seemed to pass right through me. Hairs on my neck prickled. I glanced around, half expecting to see a ghostly shape. There was nothing.

Several times over the past few months, I’d felt strange sensations, even glimpsed an ethereal visitor about my ranch property, but never in the vehicle. This time, there was no wrinkling of light, no ghostly young woman, not even a whiff of her exotic perfume. Though certain I’d felt something, nothing materialized. Besides, it was morning, and full daylight, as if that mattered. I took three slow, deep breaths and rolled down my window. My heartbeat calmed. I glanced in the rear-view mirror. The County Sheriff’s cruiser hadn’t pulled out. The light bar stopped flashing.