Last Resort. Hannah Alexander

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      She blinked at him, startled by his adamancy. “But Carissa? After six years? I don’t think that’s likely.” And yet, what if…?

      She glanced at Nathan’s profile again. Nathan Trask had a kind nature, which was obvious in his expression, in the laugh lines around his eyes. He was also an attractive man, with a high, broad forehead, dark-green eyes, dark-brown hair that he kept short and combed back. Right now, his usual five o’clock shadow had nearly become a beard, and his facial lines were ones of weariness. He had good reason to be cranky.

      “Maybe I should be driving,” she said.

      “I’m okay. The coffee helped.”

      Sitting back, she tried to relax, and again thought about last night. She shivered.

      “Cold?” Nathan reached toward the console for the heat dial.

      “I’m…fine.” She folded her arms over her chest and tried to let the passing roadside beauty calm her—the bright yellow splashes of goldenrod against the deep red of autumn sumac, highlighted by sprays of purple asters.

      It was no use. Her mind wouldn’t stop whirling with questions.

      “Noelle?” Nathan said at last.

      “Hmm?”

      “What else is going on with you?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

      She gave him a look of aggravation. Nathan Trask had always possessed an irritating ability to read her mind. “Why would you say—”

      “Just tell me, okay? I’m not in the mood to dig it out of you.”

      “Okay, fine.” He really was a grump today. And she shouldn’t be saying this. It would only invite more questions and cause more worry. Could she trust him not to share too much with Jill? “It’s nothing, really. I had a little episode last night, probably from low blood sugar, since I haven’t been eating a lot, and didn’t—”

      “What kind of episode?”

      She had his complete attention now. “Watch the road, would you?”

      “I’m watching the road. Tell me what happened.”

      Rats. She knew he’d get upset. For a few more seconds she stared out at the colorful roadside. Like Jill, Nathan had the “older sibling” complex. He tended to be bossy, and from the time the first of his two younger sisters was born, he had also tried to boss Noelle even though she was his age, and a neighbor rather than a sibling. She’d established her boundaries with him when she was about five. She didn’t intend to have to do so again.

      Still, it wasn’t totally disagreeable to have Nathan so concerned about her.

      “Okay,” he conceded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. What happened? How did you feel?”

      “I felt very concerned for no reason,” she said, then glanced at him to make sure he was watching the road again. “You know how it is when something occurs to you, that seems so real, as though God has spoken?”

      He glanced at her again. “That’s a lot more than just nerves or blood sugar.”

      “Joel’s arrival is definitely a stressor,” she said.

      There was a pause, then Nathan asked, “What time, exactly, did it happen?”

      She frowned at him.

      He met her gaze briefly, then looked away. “This may have everything to do with Carissa.”

      She thought so, too, but why would he?

      He took a deep breath and exhaled, then combed his fingers through his hair. The morning sun shining in through the window showed the lines around his eyes and the evidence of his lack of sleep and his worry. “What time did you have the attack? You said it was last night—was it after dark?”

      “It was just after closing time.”

      “You close at eight—which means this happened about the same time Carissa disappeared.”

      “Yes.” She didn’t want to go there. Not yet. It was too soon and she wasn’t ready.

      “You know what I’m talking about.” He braked when a car cut in front of him. “It’s as if you somehow knew something had happened to Carissa.”

      “You can’t be serious.” Hypocrisy will get you nowhere, Noelle Cooper.

      He nodded. The tightness around his mouth revealed his determination. He was going to discuss the subject no matter what she said.

      “Nathan, I’m not psychic. I’m surprised a former pastor like you would suggest such a thing.”

      “No, not psychic. But you’ve always been able to perceive things others don’t,” he said. “I remember you had dreams several days before your mother died.”

      “You remember that? We were seven.”

      “You told me about it, and it stuck with me. It scared me, because every time you had a dream after that, I was afraid someone would die.”

      She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. Growing up as country neighbors, she and Nathan had ridden horses and bikes, hiked, explored caves, and wandered over the extensive acreage of the combined Cooper and Trask properties. They’d done homework together when they were old enough for homework. She’d shared her thoughts and dreams with him, and he’d remembered, after all this time.

      “So you do know what I’m talking about,” he said.

      “Just because I had dreams before Mom died doesn’t mean anything.”

      “Remember that orange-and-white kitten of mine that got lost when we were ten? I told you about it, and you went right to it. I’d looked for at least two hours, and you found it in five minutes.”

      She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This was just great. She was stuck in a moving vehicle halfway to Hideaway with Nathan Trask, who seemed to be very much in the mood for an argument.

      She pointed to a sign. “There’s your turn. Focus on your driving for a few minutes, will you?”

      He shot her a quick glance that said, “This subject is only tabled, not closed,” but made the turn in silence.

      Chapter Four

      Ihave to think…have to get control! Where did she go? What if she knows it’s me? She could beat me to the house, she could tell the others that I tried to kill her!

      But I didn’t kill her. I stopped myself. I can stop this if I try hard enough. I can keep the fear from controlling me.

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