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JUNE 14, 1998, EARLY-DAWN SUNDAY MORNINGTara sat on a boulder on the top of the hill staring at the rocks below. How strange! She knew she was dead … at least, in the physical sense. How else can I be up here looking down at a blue tarp housing my former body?
Her gaze shifted to a gap in the rocks where her earthbound husband was digging a hole in the sandy soil. Bastard! If she still had her body, her blood would boil. She took in the rocky cliffs around her and the deep crevices. This was where I was running to in my effort to escape Douglas. If he hadn’t caught me on the flats, I could have hidden out here until he gave up.
Tara released a deep sigh. I finally got up the courage to leave—damn him for forgetting his wallet and coming back for it moments before my departure. My pac
