Prologue
Prologue
He gave me a conspiratorial wink, and I grinned back. With a crook of my fingers, I indicated to him to follow me out before anyone else could stop us. Once we were outside, we quickly headed for the beach like two kids playing hooky from school. The waves were choppy, and there were a few clouds scattered across the sky, giving it a grayish appearance. The wind was brisk, and it succeeded in blowing most of the cobwebs from my brain. A tension headache that was developing slowly disappeared, but not completely. We walked hand-in-hand on the beach; there was no need for words, we simply enjoyed each other's company, and I tried to relax.
The tension had been building all day, but I had ignored it. Even now it still lingered, and I put it down to the stress of the past week’s meetings, and the approaching opening night for the mystery dinner theater shows. That, and the tensions that emulated from both the professional actors and the volunteer actors. Added to that were the dress rehearsal and all the last-minute changes that went with it. No wonder the headache kept nagging at me. I had thought by heading to my usual place of solace on the beach, the tension that was creating the knots in my shoulders, and the fuzziness in my brain would simply disappear. It was always my go-to place, and it never failed me. Yet today the tension didn't dissipate; if anything, it seemed to increase.
I'm not sure what happened first, the pain around the scar on my ankle, or the lightning that flashed across the sky. They might have been simultaneous, and it caught my attention in a very personal way. I realized what the pain and lightning could mean, and within seconds I was right. I’d let myself become complacent with my newfound ability. Because of this, I hadn't associated the tension with its proper source, until it was too late.
Another voice was calling.
“I have to get rid of her, this is the perfect opportunity—now is the time to get myself away from her demands and clinginess. They want a murder mystery? I’ll give them a real one to solve.”
I stopped dead in my tracks after the voice faded, but as the words penetrated and began to make sense, I sank to my knees. Peter looked at me in astonishment and dropped to his knees next to me, and wrapped his arms around me, giving me his unquestioning support.
"Mac, are you okay? What’s going on?"
I just shook my head at him, not wanting to acknowledge what was starting again. Part of me still couldn't believe it wasn't just a trick of the wind playing with my overactive imagination, but I knew in my heart that I’d been called by another voice. Peter pulled me close to him in a comforting hug. I wasn’t even aware the tears were streaming down my face until I felt him brush one aside. The words spoken were starting to penetrate my thought process, and I understood, once again, I was being called by some power greater than me to stop that desperate voice before the words were put into actions.
"It’s happened again, Peter. A different voice, a different place, but with the same evil intent as the last time."
