Smoke and Mirrors
Prologue
Thick, impenetrable waves of fog crept inland, and the claustrophobic silence in the jeep was disturbed only by the harsh, intermittent escape of held-in breath from his lungs as he carefully steered the vehicle through the now sinister twists and turns of Coast Road with white-knuckled fingers.
Ahead, red and blue lights flashed, the distorted beams belonging to the ambulance and the police cars engaging in a macabre dance with each other.
With his heartbeat thundering in his ears, Luis braked the jeep to a halt and killed the engine. Rubbing his sweaty palms over his black-swathed thighs, he rest his forehead against the steering wheel, willing his body to have the strength to open the door to what he knew not.
A knock thudded against the window at his side, startling him into reluctant motion, and the grim face of Sam Bennett appeared, his mouth set in a silent, foreboding line. His voice sounded strained, muffled as he looked away uncomfortably, refusing to meet Luis's searching gaze. "I think you need to see this, Luis."
Luis climbed out of the jeep, not bothering to shut the door as he fell into step behind Sam, feeling as if he were wading through quicksand with each step. The flashlight Sam handed to him emitted a weak yellow glow, but it provided enough illumination to make Luis's stomach churn.
Shattered shards of glass littered the pavement underfoot. Black skid marks veered sharply across the road, leading to a mangled guardrail, and down the steep, craggy shoreline descended men in uniform with rope secured about their waists.
The acrid odor of burning fuel assailed Luis's nostrils and singed his throat, making him choke, and after his coughing had subsided, he looked to Sam for the answer to his dreaded question, unable to ask it himself.
Pity painted Sam's blue gaze as he answered in a voice gruff with sympathy. "That car down there is nothing but a piece of twisted metal, Luis, that could go at anytime. The conditions aren't safe. In fact, they're damn near impossible. My guys are doing their best, Luis. Risking their lives, but it doesn't…."
With the distant sound of the crashing waves filling his ears and the shouts of the men racing against time below, Luis interrupted Sam's speech with a terse accusation. "You're avoiding my real question, Sam. Is it…are you sure it's her?"
Reaching into his jacket pocket, Sam withdrew his hand a second later, the object's silver gleam catching Luis's eye. Holding it out in apologetic offering, Sam spoke softly. "One of the guys found this on the highway. It looks like the one she always carried, but nobody's made a positive identification yet. I thought maybe you could…" He trailed off, the shouts of the men holding a new urgency. Luis and he whirled around in time to see the men scrambling frantically up the craggy shoreline and an orange fireball cutting through the foggy conditions mere seconds later, the horrible explosion ringing in their ears and making the ground beneath their feet shake.
An anguished scream tore from Luis's throat as Sam held firm to his shoulders, preventing him from rushing rashly forward. The compact clattered forgotten to the pavement below as the heat of the raging flames licked at Luis's tear-stricken face.
The compact belonged to Sheridan Crane.
Honestly, and this is quite embarrassing to say, I forgot most of the plot points of this one.
LOL!
I do know, however, that I had big plans for this fic.
You never know.
Maybe someday I'll pick this fic back up if anybody's interested in it.
Feedback works wonders sometimes.
;)
Thanks so much for reading, and indulging me as I dump off all of these fics.
If you love to read half as much as me, you don't mind.