Vicki stirred slowly, holding the blood-matted hair at the back of her head. “Oh, God,” she whispered, saliva running from the corner of her mouth. She was groggy; her head swimming laps. She wiped her tears, her hands filthy with dirt and blood, making matters worse. She felt horribly sick and fought not to retch. Between bouts of dizziness, she climbed down and took in her surroundings.
She"d been lying on a tomb! She stared through cloudy eyes at the gray stone splashed with what looked like blood. Hers? Vicki had no memory of what had happened there, no clue what she was doing in a cemetery.
She staggered to the wrought-iron fence, grabbed it for balance and vomited. She was glad she"d skipped breakfast. The returning coffee was disgusting enough. Then it dawned, she remembered skipp
