Samantha Moon 03: Haunted Moon (Origins Book 3) by J.R. Rain & Matthew S. Cox

Author:J.R. Rain & Matthew S. Cox [Rain, J.R. & Cox, Matthew S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Unexplained Phenomena

Idyllwild, California is—in an ideal world—an hour and forty-five minute drive away from my house. In the real world populated by morons, it’s closer to two-and-a-half hours. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to fly like the vampires in The Lost Boys. Admittedly, that is kind of silly to think about, but damn would it come in handy.

Then again, have I really tried to fly, ridiculous as that might sound?

No, I haven’t. Nor do I ever expect to.

If ever there’s a statement about how crappy California traffic can be, I used my ability to influence minds to make three different idiots move out of my lane and didn’t feel like a horrible creature for doing so. It’s not as though I’m trying to break the sound barrier. The Momvan isn’t a sports car. I’m merely asking the universe to allow me to drive at the speed limit.

My sister is a legit superhero for watching the kids on short notice. My kids, too, have superpowers—tolerance. They don’t mind going over to Mary Lou’s place so Mommy can work. I sent Danny a text that a PI job came up and the kids were with her. So far, he hasn’t replied with anything beyond ‘K.’

I arrive at Brooke Olsen’s house a little after six. It sits at the end of Shady View Drive, basically right on the side of a mountain. Miles of forest-covered hills stretch up to the east beyond the house. She’s pretty much at the edge of Idyllwild here. From what I can see getting out of the van, it’s not an easy hike to go into those woods. Lots of uphill walking, pale dirt, exposed rocks and roots. Without a trail to follow, it would be more climbing than hiking.

Brooke—or so I assume—runs out the front door of a two-story house with blue siding. The place, even in the daylight, gives off energy like Danny’s figurines. It’s not the same type though, almost ‘colder’ and darker. Kind of like how heavy metal and country are both considered music—regardless of what Danny thinks about country—but they’re quite different. I find myself staring at an upstairs window until Brooke stops in front of me.

She looks younger than I expected from her voice, late twenties perhaps. Her shoulder-length auburn hair and hoop earrings say ‘office manager,’ but the flannel shirt and jeans make her look like a trail guide.

Instead of saying hi, she catches me looking into the upstairs window. “What’s up there? Is something wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m starting to believe you about strange things going on here.”

She emits a nervous chuckle. “Already just from looking at the house? I thought you were a PI, not a psychic.”

“Investigators have hunches.” I smile.

The instant we make eye contact, I’m sure she had nothing to do with her son’s disappearance. Again, I cringe internally at the reminder of becoming something other than human. But it’s hard to argue that mind-reading isn’t insanely helpful for a PI. For a missing child, I’ll set aside my revulsion at being inhuman.

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