The Woman In the Storm by Cathryn Grant

Author:Cathryn Grant [Grant, Cathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, American Suspense, psychological thriller, sociopath, killer, Vigilante
Published: 2019-03-10T05:00:00+00:00

36

With questions left unanswered regarding Eileen’s awareness of the photographs locked inside the armoire, and my potentially dangerous or at least malevolent neighbors, I decided I would escape to see Joe. The thoughts occupying my mind added up to a sensation of drowning in things that were none of my business, but at the same time, seemed like they were brushing up against the edges of my business. I needed a break from my own brain.

It was cold, the sky covered in clouds that looked and felt as if they would bring snow, not that I knew anything about how an impending snowstorm behaved. It was just so cold, the coldness of the earth itself seeping up through the soles of my boots, the wind cutting through wool and cotton and fleece. The air smelled cold. I hadn’t looked at a weather forecast, so I had no idea whether a storm was coming, but there was something pent-up about the atmosphere that made me think I might be close to experiencing my first New York snow.

I’d taken trips to the mountains to go sledding when I was a child, so snow wasn’t completely outside of my experience. A few inches of snow occasionally fell on Portland, Oregon, but not the thick winter wonderland snow of New York. I’d never woken to a yard draped in white, never taken a long walk with it falling around me.

New Yorkers seemed willfully disinterested in snow except in knowing how it might impact their commute and the creature comforts of heating and electricity. But I believed they liked it more than they let on or they wouldn’t have chosen to make their home in a city that was blanketed with snow seven or eight days a year.

I didn’t tell Joe I was coming. Every indication I’d had was that he was always glad to see me. And I wasn’t in the mood for the drama of a limo pulling up at my apartment. During daylight hours, the limo attracted all kinds of stares, snarky looks, and occasional comments about the one percent or paid escorts.

I silently laughed at the voices, just loud enough for me to overhear. The voices were obviously raised with the intention of letting me hear, while pretending they were talking quietly to a companion, not wanting to be heard at all. It was a game that I’d lost interest in. I just wanted an anonymous ride in an Uber.

When the Uber was a few miles from Jim Kohn’s house, I sent Joe a text and announced my arrival. He responded with a winking emoji. I wasn’t sure how to interpret that but assumed it was an overall positive reaction.

As the Uber pulled up, the gate opened. The front door was standing ajar when I stepped out of the car. I climbed the steps slowly, feeling for the slick presence of ice. It was mid-afternoon so ice was unlikely, but I didn’t want to end up sprawled on the bottom step,

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