Читать книгу Dead Certain - Carla Cassidy - Страница 8

She crouched on a wooden support beam beneath the bridge that spanned the Cherokee River. Although it was after midnight, the full moon overhead splashed down a silvery light that danced on the river water below.

Shiny water, she thought. Shiny, treacherous water. For Cherokee Native Americans water was sacred, used for cleansing and purifying. It had been the presence of this river that had led her people to this area of Oklahoma many years before.

For her, the river no longer signified anything but death. Fourteen months ago, in a freak accident, her husband had lost control of his car and slammed through the wooden guard rail of the old bridge. He’d plunged to his death in the river below. At the moment his life had left his body, all will to live had left hers as well.

Every Saturday night when she got off work she came here. She climbed up the wooden support beams until she was high over the river, and stared at the water below.

Beneath the bridge the river was at its most fierce, with speed and depth and powerful whirlpools that rarely spit up a survivor.

If she released her hold on the support beam over her head and leaned forward just a little bit, she would fall. The river would accept her into its depths, and she would be rejoined with the man she loved.

Jimmy, her heart cried. If she just let go and leaned forward, she and her husband would walk hand in hand through the spirit world for eternity.

“Just let go,” a voice whispered in her head. “That’s all you have to do…let go.” But even as the voice whispered seductively in her ear, her hand tightened its grip on the overhead support.

A sob caught in her throat as she realized she couldn’t release her grip on the beam. Her heart desperately wanted to, but she simply couldn’t let go. She didn’t understand. All her hopes, all her dreams had drowned along with Jimmy. She had no reason to live.

Once again she stared down at the river, finding the moonlit water hypnotic. Jimmy. Jimmy. Tension ebbed away from her body as she continued to gaze at the water below. Her grip on the beam loosened as her fingers began to relax their hold. Just let go. Just let go.

At that moment her cell phone jangled from its resting place inside her pocket. Instantly her fingers tightened once again around the support.

Who would be calling her now? It wouldn’t be anyone from the station; they would use her radio. Who else would be calling at this hour of the night? With her free hand she wrestled the cellular from her pocket and answered.

“Get out to Mom and Dad’s place as fast as you can.” The familiar male voice radiated urgency.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Just get here.”

Her brother disconnected the call, and a chill of foreboding chased down her spine. What was going on at her parents’ house at this time of night?

Carefully, Homicide Detective Savannah Tallfeather climbed down the wooden beams beneath the bridge. She would not be joining her husband on this night.

She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or devastated by the fact that once again she was walking away. She’d have to wait for another time to join her husband in the water she thought of as the river of no return.