PROLOGUE
PROLOGUE
Ariana Welch was feeling really happy with the decisions she’d made. As she walked along the well-lit street, she took a long, deep breath of warm, clean night air.
“I’m definitely not in Wisconsin anymore,” she whispered aloud
It was early fall, and she didn’t even need a jacket here in Teapa, New Mexico. In fact, she could expect the temperature to barely dip below freezing all winter. She actually shivered a little as she imagined what it would be like back in Wisconsin right now, with a damp chill in the air and trees mostly barren of leaves.
After a whole lifetime in in the northern midwest, she’d had enough of the climate and just about everything else about it, and Teapa was a welcome change. Ariana had let her friend and now-roommate Jolene Vaughn talk her into dropping out of the accounting program at the University of Madison to move down here.
Now she was so glad she had. Not that she was entirely sold on some of Jolene’s notions about this town—the heart-chakra of the southwest, Jolene called it. Ariana didn’t share Jolene’s fascination with power centers and crystals and astrology and such, but it wasn’t a bone of contention between them. They got along just fine.
Ariana wasn’t alarmed to hear footsteps behind her. Even at this hour, it was a safe neighborhood, flanked mostly by art stores and galleries that had closed for the night. But she was a little startled to hear a man’s voice call out to her.
“Hey, Ariana!”
She turned and saw a man trotting toward her. He was about her age and wearing a sports jacket and a tie.
“Fancy running into you again,” he said, walking alongside her now.
Ariana wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. She thought she recognized the guy, but her mind was maybe a little foggy after three Long Island Iced Teas. Then she remembered where she’d seen him. A little while ago at the bar at the Bighorn, he’d tried to strike up a conversation with her. She hadn’t been interested, so she’d ignored him and kept right on talking to the bartender. He’d finally wandered away and Ariana thought she’d seen the last of him, at least for tonight.
“Uh, yeah, what a surprise,” she said, forcing a smile.
It was the best she could do for a greeting.
“You don’t remember my name, I guess,” the young man said with a wink. “That’s OK, I know I’m not the most memorable guy in the world. My name is Larry. Larry Damon. And I remember all about you. Ariana Welch, the bank teller from Beloit, Wisconsin, looking for a change here in wonderful Teapa, New Mexico.”
Ariana felt an uneasy twinge.
How much did I tell him about myself, anyway? She wondered.
All she remembered from the conversation was that she’d been glad to get it over with. She may have babbled a bit just to get rid of him, and the drinks might have loosened her tongue.
“So where are you headed?” Larry said.
“Home.”
“Oh? Where do you live?”
Ariana almost blurted out the name of her street, but quickly thought better of it. After all, it was kind of a pushy question, and Larry Damon seemed like kind of a pushy guy. She felt like maybe he knew too much about her already.
She decided the best thing was to say nothing at all.
So she looked away from him and walked in silence as if he weren’t there. Her silence felt awkward. She felt as though she was being awfully rude—although maybe not as rude as if she’d blurted out what she really thought.
“Where I live is none of your business.”
The guy kept walking beside her with his hands in his pockets.
Finally, he said, “It’s kind of late, you know. Maybe you’d feel safer if I walked you home.”
“No thanks, I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
More than sure, she thought.
In fact, she was starting to feel a bit anxious now, and she wondered how she was going to shake this guy off. Then an idea occurred to her. She took out her cellphone and acted as though she was about to make a phone call.
Maybe he’ll think I’m calling the police, she thought.
The man quickly pointed to a side street.
“Well, I’m headed over this way. You have a nice night.”
“You too.”
Larry Damon turned and walked away.
It worked, she thought with a smile.
She was glad she hadn’t had to resort more desperate measures, like pepper spray, screaming for help, her self-defense training, or actually calling the police. But she doubted things would have come to that, even if she hadn’t shaken him off so easily.
He’d seemed harmless enough—just annoying and a little creepy.
Ariana soon came to her own street and turned to the right. It was a quiet little street lined with houses instead of shops. She took her keys out of her purse as she approached her own address. She knew Jolene would be out all night with her new boyfriend and not here to answer the door.
As she walked up onto the front stoop, Ariana heard a scuffling sound behind her. Before she could whirl around, someone seized one arm and forced it painfully behind her back.
Then a hand clapped a damp rag over her nose and mouth.
Ariana gasped, inhaling sharply and reflexively. The startlingly sweet taste and odor seemed coolly antiseptic, like a hospital hallway.
She wasn’t conscious long enough to get scared. Her head buzzed with what seemed to be white noise and television snow.
Then everything went black.
