Hunter jerked awake when he heard knocking. Opening his eyes, he saw Ian stooped down, staring in at him through the car window. Hunter rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter. Ian’s voice came to him, muffled by the glass.
“Look at you, all wired up about seeing Beaumont House and you can’t even stay awake long enough to have a look.” Ian laughed, walking away from the car.
Hunter glanced around and saw nothing but trees: elms, birches, and maples, all wearing brilliant autumnal colors. Wind gusted and sent a shower of leaves down on the windshield of Ian’s Jag.
Hunter got out of the car. The air here was much cooler than it had been in Evanston; he hugged himself. The wind rustled the treetops. “Ian, what’s going on? If this is some kind of trick, I’m not amused. You’re not going to det
