This is a very rough draft for the beginning of my 3rd novel. Please send me an email and let me know what you think of it -- the chapter below as well as the cover design.

AN OBSESSION TO POSSESS

CHAPTER I

October 14th

          Sarah struggled for clarity. She had to calm the fear, quell the panic that welled up from her gut insisting that she scream and fight until there was nothing left but peace. Powerful arms carried her, then threw her like a sack of shit onto something hard and cold. She heard doors slam, and fought to clear the haze that clouded her head. She willed herself still, kept her eyes closed and prayed for strength. With stillness came understanding. She realized that she was in the backseat of a vehicle. Wrapped in a blanket, but completely naked, her hair was a mass of cold wet slime against her face and down her back . Her body was aflame with pain and a chill that burned so deep she was sure that icicles had formed on her bones.

       She fought the blackness that threatened to consume her. Using every ounce of courage she could muster she calmed every synopsis that told her that life depended on fight or flight. She blacked out for a few seconds, but recognized instantly when her senses came back that she was still curled up on the back seat of the truck. Her head now rested on the lap of a stranger. His arms, different from the ones that had thrown her so causally, held her securely in place as the vehicle bounced over rough ground. Blaring from surround sound speakers was the song Welcome To My Nightmare by Alice Cooper. Her captors sang and laughed, as though it were their theme song. The next time she came to, the music was quiet and she heard clearly the voices behind her anguish.

            "God damn it! That was fun. Went like clockwork. He's going away for a long long time. The boss will be pleased." The voice was the Russian, a man called Uri. He spoke in perfect English. His girlfriend grunted in response. "We've done our part. It's over, now, we don't owe him any more do we. We can raise our family?"

            "We owe no more. Once we deliver the package, it's over. Our future, our family is all that matters now." Uri told her.

            With those words, Sarah's mind cleared and the nightmare became reality as she began to remember the details. She put faces to the voices, and memories--cloudy,  violent, and terrifying rushed forward. As the air around her became warmer her body moved involuntarily from chills she could not control. The horror or her ordeal assaulted her again. The arms around her tightened. The man who held her leaned close, moved the hair from her face and whispered.

            "Be still. Just be still or they'll shoot you up again. The worst is over. No one'll hurt you now. The Man, he won't let them. Just don't fight. Do as they say, please." He wrapped the blanket more tightly around her, and rubbed her arms to help ease the shivering. Somewhere he produced a towel and wrapped her hair in it. He did his best to make her comfortable. "Just don't fight them, " he whispered.

            She locked onto his deep brown eyes and told him. "When you see Steven, tell him I love him, tell him I've always loved him, and tell him to hurry!"

            A sweet warm blackness enveloped her and she surrendered to its comfort.

*                                              *                                              *

Steven was deep in thought and only noticed the moose near the river when it took off running. The wind picked up and he heard whispering. "Steven... Steven I'm here." The sound carried softly on the breeze and he shivered when he heard it again. "Steven...I'm here." He could have sworn Sarah was calling to him from somewhere among the trees. He stopped in his tracks and listened, but the wind settled and the whispers disappeared. The evening was dark with no moon, low clouds, and light snow. Suddenly his decision was made. "That's it. I can't do this. I'm leaving. She'll haunt me as long as I'm in Alaska. Damn it, Sarah! Damn it to hell and back!"

        He had been out the whole day. He thought the hunt would clear his head, give him insight, and help him make a decision. However, hunting took third place in his thoughts because he could not get Sarah out of his head, but what really bothered him was that he could not get his career and his personal life in sync. He took a deep breath, "a few years of hard work should do it." Even though he knew deep down in his heart that he would always love her, work would help to dull the pain of losing her.

        He caught site of the cabin, an A-frame with all the amenities. In the wilderness of the Brooks Range, miles off the beaten path, he had turned his grandfathers old cabin into the perfect retreat for a honeymoon that would never happen. He stood glaring at what used to be his sanctuary.

         Steven was lead detective in Anchorage, on hiatus from the job he loved as he tried to decide his future. Sarah was the artist he had fallen for during one of his cases. Engaged, they had been on the way to the altar. However, his job and her health kept them apart and at odds with each other as they tried to make their relationship work. What seemed at first to be blessed by the gods, proved in the end to be haunted by demons. After two years of trying to keep some balance in their lives amidst the horror of his murder cases, they had just recently decided to go in different directions. Now he was trying to plan his future without her, even if it meant leaving Alaska.

         Today wasn't a total loss, I've made my decision. He relaxed. Out of habit he began whistling You Are My Sunshine. He came around the back of his cabin just as several vehicles pulled in. "What the hell?" Two SUV's stopped and five officers got out.

      He greeted his visitors. His co-worker stepped out of the first vehicle. "Helen? What're you doing all the way out here?" Helen was one of the most competent detectives he knew and the look on her face told him something big was on her mind.

        "Steven, we need to talk." She held up her hand to the other officers, they immediately stood back. The officer in her SUV,  Shawn Terrill, joined the others.

      Steven acknowledged Shawn with a nod, but his attention went back to Helen. "Talk? You brought an entire team out here just to talk?"

       "We've been calling your satellite phone, trying to reach you by radio. Where the hell have you been?"

       "Hunting. One place I never take a phone. I just got back. What's going on?"

       Helen ignored his question. "Empty handed?"

Her unhurried attitude made him feel less anxious. "Yeah, I wasn't into it." He took the gun off his shoulder.

       Helen reached out her hand. "May I see that?"

     "Sure," He handed the rifle to her.

      She looked it over. "A 30.06, what were you after?"

     "Honestly, I just needed to think. If there was anything out there, I didn't see it."

      She barely looked at the gun and then handed it to Shawn. "Can we go inside?" She pulled up the collar of her jacket  "It's a bit raw tonight."

      "Sure. Come on. Let me get some wood. We'll need a fire." He went to the woodpile and picked up a few good pieces. "So tell me, what brings you north?"

      "As soon as my teeth quit chattering. There's something wrong with the heater in the SUV. I'm frozen." She told him.

Steven laughed. "You're the one in charge. Give the dud to the rookies."

     "I don't work that way!."

      The seriousness in her voice stopped him cold.

     "I was only kidding." He looked at her closely and then at the men behind her. He recognized Grady Kelly, but the other two were strangers. He suddenly felt cold. He reached up to unlock the door, but it was already unlocked. "Must have left it open." He explained.        

     "There's no reason to lock doors this far out in the wilderness." He ushered Helen inside, but she waited as Shawn Terrill and Grady Kelly quickly walked past him and scanned the large room, as though waiting for orders. "You're all welcome," he said, looking at the other two officers who still lagged behind.

     "They can wait out here. Relax," she told them, but signaled with her hands that they should look around. Steven noticed and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

     When they stepped into the cabin, a fire was crackling in the fireplace. Two lamps lit the large comfortable room. A small kitchen sat at one end of the cabin. Coffee was percolating. The scent of roses and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air.

     "I thought you said you just got back." Helen looked around. "Steve this place doesn't look like you at all. It's homey. Looks like something you would find in Girdwood. Did you do this yourself?"

     He could hear the amusement in her voice. Girdwood was a tourist trap and catered to the those with the idea that roughing it was a five star cabin near a ski resort.

     "Yeah, well. I remodeled it with Sarah in mind. I've been out all day. Someone must have stopped by. When I left this morning, the fire was embers, the lights were off, and the last of the morning coffee went into my thermos. Whoever stopped by started up the generator. Something I should have noticed sooner. It's not unusual for folks to make themselves at home. I was out all day. Maybe they got bored and left." He said it, but his gut wasn't buying it. He walked around the room looking for clues.

      "Nice of them to start the coffee? Can I have a cup?" Helen walked straight for it. "Shawn. Grady. Take a look around."

     Steven got angry. "No one does anything until you tell me why you're here!"

     Helen ignored him. Shawn and Grady went about their jobs. One of them disappeared into the back and another took off upstairs.

Steven followed her to the kitchen. "Helen?"

     "Just give me a second to thaw out and I'll tell you." She brushed the hood from her head, but her dark blond hair filled with static electricity, stood straight up. She smoothed it down, but nothing she did could control the wispy tendrils that had escaped the ponytail. Helen cared more for her reputation as a cop than how she looked doing her job. She found a cup on the sideboard, and although she noticed Steven's impatience, she was unperturbed. She poured, took a sip, and warmed her hands by wrapping them around her mug. "Ah, this is good. Okay," she sighed deeply. "The Captain sent me because he knew you would cooperate." She removed a document from her coat pocket and handed it to him. "I have to serve you with this warrant. I need to ask you a few questions, and I'm hoping you'll voluntarily go back to Anchorage with us."

     "Cooperate? Regarding what? Just tell me what happened?" He put the search warrant on the counter without reading it.

     "Two women are dead. Witnesses claim you were with them." She showed him two pictures. "Do you recognize them?" Steven took his gloves off and stuffed them in his coat pocket. He looked closely at the photos. "Sure, I had a drink with her in Anchorage. I had coffee and pie with this girl in Fairbanks. What happened to them?"

     "They were murdered, not long after being seen with you. We're here to search for evidence. Preliminary forensics tie you to them. Did you sleep with them?"

     "Murdered...I didn't kill them. You actually believe I . . . "Steven had no time to finish. The door burst open and John and Eddie Thomas came barreling into the room.

     "Is she here?"

     "Who?" Steven and Helen said simultaneously.

     "Sarah?" They echoed.

     "Why would Sarah be here?" Steven was stunned.

John shouted. "Is she here, has she been here?"

     "No." Steven folded his arms across his chest in defiance. "Why would she come here?"

     "Shit!" John's shoulders slumped. "She left Paris a week ago, flew directly to Fairbanks, rented a truck, everything says she was on her way here. Something's wrong. No one's heard from her. No one?"

     "Did you check with Scott?" Steven bellowed!

     "Son-of-a-bitch!" Eddie the quiet one suddenly came to life. He went straight for Steven.

     John stepped between them. "She's missing," he insisted.

     "Or, with Scott." Steven repeated.

     Eddie was not going to let it go. His fist landed and Steven stumbled backward.

     Helen moved in. "Calm down. What makes you think she was on her way here?"

     "This." John played the tape of Sarah's phone message. "Also, five days ago, Gary at Coldfoot gave her instructions on how to find the cabin. She should have arrived here that same day." John told them.

Suddenly it dawned on Steven. "The fire, the unlocked door, the coffee, and the smell of roses. Maybe she is here?" He started for the stairs just as Shawn came down them.

     "We haven't found the duffel bags, Detective Gabble, but we found this." He held a negligee, a beautiful white lace, and silk. It was torn and the blood caught their attention like a burning flare."

     Steven pushed Shawn aside and took off up the stairs yelling her name. He stopped when he saw the overnight bag, her clothes hanging in the closet, and her toiletries sitting on the dresser. He could smell the rose water, but she was nowhere in sight. Then he noticed blood on the rug by the fireplace. He drew closer to investigate. It was fresh. He looked up to see Eddie staring at the bed. Helen pushed him out of the way and entered the room.

     "Shawn. Where was it? Helen demanded, and glared at Steven.

     "By the fireplace." Shawn informed her.

     "What else?"

     "There's more blood on the rug by the bed." He pointed to it. "And evidence that a woman was here."

     Steven watched closely. He thought he knew what was coming next, but when Helen pulled down the bedclothes, Steven's knees buckled. He grabbed the fireplace mantel for support. "Sarah." Her name came out painfully. Fresh blood covered the pillow, and sheets. He realized someone had died a brutal death in that bed. Their honeymoon bed."

     "Where's her body, Steven?" Helen demanded.

     He moved quickly. Escape his only thought! He pushed John out of the way, and took off running. John went down hard at the top of the steps blocking the path of the others. Steven was out the back door before anyone else had made it downstairs. He ran for his life. They were intent on his arrest. He had to think, and to do that he had to get away from what would be immediate incarceration. He needed to clear his mind, figure out what just happened. However, for several miles, all he could see was the bed, the blood. No one could survive that kind of blood loss. Five days, she left Paris a week ago and should have been here five days ago. Where had she been during that time? Where was she now? How did she know I was in trouble, and if she knew who was behind it, did he kill her? "She's not dead, she's not!" With great effort, he stopped thinking about Sarah and began planning the next steps of his escape.

     He knew he could survive, if he could just get away. He ran. He could hear them behind him, but he knew the area and they did not. He quickly left them behind, and headed south. He wanted them to think he was heading back to town. In short order, he made his way to the road. Getting them to searching all vehicles moving south might buy him some time. He was not worried about his tracks. Once he was sure he had deceived his pursuers, he would head north, erasing any evidence of his presence. He needed to find safety and a place where he could plan his next step. He knew exactly where that was. His Uncle's cabin, high in the mountains.

     After an hour, he was heading north and covering his tracks. The snow was falling steadily, and he was grateful. They would have trouble finding him, but he knew they would call out the helicopters, the dogs, and the expert trackers as soon as daylight hit.

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Please drop me a line at yolandarenee@hotmail.comand let me know what you think of this partial chapter -- the first chapter in the ongoing saga of Detective Quaid -- and the 3rd novel in the series -- AN OBSESSION TO POSSESS -- I do want to know what you think!

Both of these novels will be available on the EZRead Website www.ezread.com