Chapter 65: The Winter Strip
The twin xenon beacons atop the gate pillars of Alderwood Manor cast down brilliant, unbroken shafts of light, cutting through the swirling sleet and creating a glaring circle of illumination upon the heated driveway apron. Nerida moved into the exact dead center of that brilliance, planting her feet where the slush gave way to steaming asphalt. She lifted her chin, staring directly into the dark, motorized optical dome recessed within the granite masonry six feet above her head.
The high-resolution lens hummed as its internal autofocus adjusted, the aperture iris expanding to compensate for the glare and locking onto her face.
She made certain there was no ambiguity in what the camera captured. She let the howling seventy-knot gusts rip the remaining strand
