As a kidnapper with a lifelong grudge holds an innocent woman captive, Detective Stan
Brookshire has little evidence to go on. When he accepts help from an unlikely source, he
comes to rely on her psychic vision. Will she lead him to Missy before it’s too late? Or will he
humiliate himself and the entire Lake City Police Department chasing bogus leads while Missy
Sheen’s time runs out?
Brookshire has little evidence to go on. When he accepts help from an unlikely source, he
comes to rely on her psychic vision. Will she lead him to Missy before it’s too late? Or will he
humiliate himself and the entire Lake City Police Department chasing bogus leads while Missy
Sheen’s time runs out?
EXCERPT
Where was she?
The street she was walking along did not seem all that familiar to her; there were colonial
style houses with their little white picket fences on either side in neat little rows. Like
something you would see in a movie. There was nothing to really distinguish where it was that
she had found herself.
She continued down the street. She somehow knew where she was headed, but still nothing
seemed to fit to her. This certainly wasn’t her street. She lived in the city in a threestory
walkup
apartment building on a busy street. There were no walkups
in sight and this
certainly did not classify as a busy street. She had not even seen one car pass her. Mind you,
judging by how dark it was and how many lights were on in the houses she was passing she
would put the time well past midnight
The street she was walking along did not seem all that familiar to her; there were colonial
style houses with their little white picket fences on either side in neat little rows. Like
something you would see in a movie. There was nothing to really distinguish where it was that
she had found herself.
She continued down the street. She somehow knew where she was headed, but still nothing
seemed to fit to her. This certainly wasn’t her street. She lived in the city in a threestory
walkup
apartment building on a busy street. There were no walkups
in sight and this
certainly did not classify as a busy street. She had not even seen one car pass her. Mind you,
judging by how dark it was and how many lights were on in the houses she was passing she
would put the time well past midnight
What the hell was she doing out here?
There, in front of her was a house that seemed to strike a chord of familiarity with her
somehow, even though she was more than certain that she had never seen it in her life. It
looked pretty much like all the others on the street: the garage in front of the house providing
a nice sheltered front porch. The more she studied the house, the more certain she was that
she had not been here before. However she soon found her feet pulling her up the walkway
that ran parallel to the driveway and up onto the front porch.
She heard a sound and looked back. Her eyes scanning the street for any sign of what could
have been responsible for the rustling noise she heard.
Nothing was moving on the street; the streetlights showed nobody.
She turned back to the door and found herself once again not in control of her body and
watched as she pulled a set of keys out of a coat pocket and started reaching for the door.
Once again, she heard the rustling sound just off to the left and turned just in time to see a
man climbing his way over the railing that closed in the porch.
Almost frozen with fear she felt the keys slip through her fingers and heard them hit the
ground at her feet. The man heard the keys and looked up at her.
She couldn’t see his face for the light from the street did not reach that far onto the porch,
however there was a glint in his eyes and she saw the knife in his hand reaching for her.
The shock was gone and as she was suddenly able to regain control over her body, she
turned and ran off the porch and back into the street with the man running after her. She had
never been athletic in her life but she certainly wasn’t out of shape either. In that very moment
she felt as though she had never spent a day working out. There was a heavy feeling in her
chest making it feel like it was on fire. Her breath was coming out in harsh gasps as she tried
to put some distance between herself and her assailant.
As she ran she tried to call out for help but for some reason the most sound that she could
make was that of a mouse's squeak.
She took a chance and looked back over her shoulder; he had almost caught up with her and
this was the chance the man needed to bridge the gap between them.
There, in front of her was a house that seemed to strike a chord of familiarity with her
somehow, even though she was more than certain that she had never seen it in her life. It
looked pretty much like all the others on the street: the garage in front of the house providing
a nice sheltered front porch. The more she studied the house, the more certain she was that
she had not been here before. However she soon found her feet pulling her up the walkway
that ran parallel to the driveway and up onto the front porch.
She heard a sound and looked back. Her eyes scanning the street for any sign of what could
have been responsible for the rustling noise she heard.
Nothing was moving on the street; the streetlights showed nobody.
She turned back to the door and found herself once again not in control of her body and
watched as she pulled a set of keys out of a coat pocket and started reaching for the door.
Once again, she heard the rustling sound just off to the left and turned just in time to see a
man climbing his way over the railing that closed in the porch.
Almost frozen with fear she felt the keys slip through her fingers and heard them hit the
ground at her feet. The man heard the keys and looked up at her.
She couldn’t see his face for the light from the street did not reach that far onto the porch,
however there was a glint in his eyes and she saw the knife in his hand reaching for her.
The shock was gone and as she was suddenly able to regain control over her body, she
turned and ran off the porch and back into the street with the man running after her. She had
never been athletic in her life but she certainly wasn’t out of shape either. In that very moment
she felt as though she had never spent a day working out. There was a heavy feeling in her
chest making it feel like it was on fire. Her breath was coming out in harsh gasps as she tried
to put some distance between herself and her assailant.
As she ran she tried to call out for help but for some reason the most sound that she could
make was that of a mouse's squeak.
She took a chance and looked back over her shoulder; he had almost caught up with her and
this was the chance the man needed to bridge the gap between them.
He lunged at her and took her down in a football style tackle, both of them landing in a pile on
the ground. She managed to turn herself as she struggled to escape his grasp but found
herself losing strength.
She saw the hand with the knife coming at her…
Beth suddenly woke up and was back in her room in her walkup
apartment; it had all been a
dream. A nightmare.
Or had it? Had it really been a nightmare this time? Or was it something more?
the ground. She managed to turn herself as she struggled to escape his grasp but found
herself losing strength.
She saw the hand with the knife coming at her…
Beth suddenly woke up and was back in her room in her walkup
apartment; it had all been a
dream. A nightmare.
Or had it? Had it really been a nightmare this time? Or was it something more?
BIO
Allison Cosgrove was born and raised in a suburb of Toronto, Ontario. A married mother of
three daughters, she runs her own business by day and creates her own worlds by night. She
enjoys spending time with her husband and daughters hiking in the woods or sitting by the fire
reading a good book. She has had the love of reading and writing detective mysteries from
the age of twelve but it has only been since the birth of her youngest that she has gotten
serious about crafting some of her own works for others to enjoy. She credits her family and
friends with being the driving force that has given her the strength to breathe life into her
books.
Allison Cosgrove was born and raised in a suburb of Toronto, Ontario. A married mother of
three daughters, she runs her own business by day and creates her own worlds by night. She
enjoys spending time with her husband and daughters hiking in the woods or sitting by the fire
reading a good book. She has had the love of reading and writing detective mysteries from
the age of twelve but it has only been since the birth of her youngest that she has gotten
serious about crafting some of her own works for others to enjoy. She credits her family and
friends with being the driving force that has given her the strength to breathe life into her
books.
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