Specht Mill was dark and deserted except for the one light in the main office. Jessica inhaled the scent of pine bark and sawdust, a smell familiar from her childhood. It was the smell of her father returning from work at the mill, metal lunchbox swinging in one hand and a big hug for her waiting in the other.
Mike was right: a lot had changed. Now the smell of sawdust made her think of death, and the abandoned mill was a grizzly reminder of Mike’s dismemberment.
Illuminated by the ominous full moon, the massive gate blocking the entrance to the mill was dead ahead. When she yanked on the heavy chain link, she discovered it wasn’t locked, and it squealed as she heaved it open. She cringed. She glanced around the mill, then tiptoed through the gate onto the grounds, hoping whoever was ins
