Page 1 of Whispers Left Behind (Kinsley Aspen #1)

Chapter One

Rachel Hanson October Thursday — 1:33 am

The sharp claws of desperation were all too real.

Rachel Hanson choked back a sob as she stumbled over the protruding roots and rocks of the forest floor. Primal fear was the driving force pushing her forward, despite the excruciating pain in her left side. Every step forward was agony, but stopping meant death.

The darkness would have swallowed her whole had it not been for the flickering streams of moonlight. The silver beams slipped past the leaves of the tall ash trees above as if they were guiding her to safety. She followed them as quickly as possible toward salvation.

Lionel Cooper’s farmhouse was just past the clearing.

If she could make it across the field without getting caught, she stood a good chance of being allowed inside before it was too late. She flinched when a low-hanging branch slapped her cheek, but she didn’t dare slow down. Just a little farther. That was all she needed to gain a bit of separation.

With every sharp inhalation, it was as if she were breathing tiny shards of glass. She could barely hear anything over the blood rushing through her body. It didn’t help that her heart hammered against her ribcage, intensifying the pain.

Rachel pressed a hand against her side when she was forced to come to an abrupt halt at the edge of the tree line. Though the palpable presence of death seemed to be an inescapable force, she had no choice but to waste valuable seconds evaluating her surroundings.

An eerie stillness had settled around her.

Had he stopped of discovering her location?

She bit her lip to keep from breathing too loud.

In the distance, the full moon cast slivers of illumination over Mr. Cooper’s farmhouse. While his porchlight beckoned her with hope, there were many shadows in between that stretched and twisted like long, grasping fingers.

Could she make it safely to his front door?

She hesitated at the edge of the clearing, torn with a decision to make. Remain in the woods or make a run for it. Her life was in danger either way. The piercing snap of a twig startled her as it echoed off the trees.

The decision had been made for her.

Rachel ignored the wetness between her fingers as she frantically pushed off the tall, thick trunk. She began to run toward the barn maybe a hundred feet away. The blood on her hand was no longer warm. The cool, crisp air had dried the sticky substance upon contact. She didn’t give her injury another thought as she focused solely on the barn.

The large structure would offer her temporary cover.

Fortunately, the ground wasn’t as rough through the field. She still hadn’t anticipated the slight decline. She almost tripped over her own feet before catching herself. The brief interruption afforded her the time needed to glance over her shoulder.

No one emerged from the woods behind her.

Not wanting to take such a reprieve for granted, she forced herself to run faster until she could reach her destination. The dim silhouette of the barn enveloped her in its protection as she finally rested her palm against one of the cold, wooden beams.

There was no time for tears, and she wouldn’t waste any precious seconds checking her wound. Only a little farther, and she would be able to reach Mr. Cooper’s front porch.

He would call 911.

He would save her.

Rachel quietly followed the barn's length until the farmhouse came back into view. Sixty yards was all that stood between life and death. It took a moment for her to realize that the shadowed outline of the barn had shifted and morphed into a dark, looming figure. Once recognition dawned, a surge of panic slammed into her.

She spun around in an attempt to escape.

The man’s hand shot out and seized her by the hair, yanking her back with such brutal force that it drove out what remaining air she had in her lungs. His other hand clamped over her mouth to prevent her from screaming, and she struggled to draw in oxygen.

No words were spoken as he untangled his fingers from her hair before quickly wrapping a thick arm around her waist. He practically lifted her off the ground before dragging her toward the barn door. She fought with all her might, but all she managed to do was grapple with the fabric of his jacket.

Trust, once given so freely, twisted into a choking vine of betrayal.

If he managed to get her inside the barn, she wouldn’t be coming out alive. Such knowledge fueled her into frantically twisting in an attempt to reach his face. If she could hurt him enough to cause his grip to loosen, she might regain her freedom.

Rachel hadn’t expected him to release her so quickly, but her feet abruptly met the ground. Briefly stunned, he managed to grab another fistful of her hair. She instinctively reached up, but it was too late. Instead of yanking her back, he slammed her forward.

The blow to her head was severe.

His response to her stunned reaction was to effortlessly haul her across the threshold of the barn. He tossed her like a ragdoll onto the dirt floor. She rolled onto her back, fully expecting him to instantly end her life.

Instead, he remained standing over her as still as a statue.

The brief respite triggered hope.

“Please,” Rachel pleaded desperately, her voice somewhat distorted. Her vision was blurred, and there was an intense ringing in her ears. Her mind could still register the outline of his body from the moonlight slipping through the open barn door. “Please, don’t do this.”

The side effects from hitting her head were beginning to fade, and all the ways she could escape began to surface quickly. All she needed was a split second of distraction to make another run for it. She slowly lifted herself onto her elbows, curling her fingers into the palm of her right hand. She had managed to scoop up enough hay and dirt for one attempt at freedom.

“You’re going to die tonight.” His voice lacked any emotion. Had he always been this cold? This depraved? “I’ve waited a very long time for this. Too long.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, he withdrew a knife from somewhere inside his jacket. She hadn’t been certain at first what he held in his hand until the moonlight glinted off the blade. One of the few men who she had trusted with her life was about to cut it short. She choked back another sob and scrambled backward. Clambering to her feet, she flung the debris she had gathered into his face.

Unfortunately, he had struck first.

Searing heat formed a straight line across her neck.

He had brought his arm around so fast that she hadn’t even realized the blade had slit her throat until she failed to breathe. Her feeble attempt to draw air had resulted in a faint, strangled gurgle. Her intent had been to run after blinding him, but she could no longer move her legs.

She was frozen in place.

Drowning, yet she could still make out the sharp scent of hay and the coppery tang of blood. How was that even possible?

The warm substance began to cascade down her neck. Her body eventually followed the same direction. She sank to her knees as he stood before her, slowly wiping away the dirt from his face.

Evil wore many, many masks.

Darkness threatened to swallow her whole. A chilling cold had settled into her bones by the time she fell backward. Her fingers twitched, but it wasn’t through a will of their own. Her body was losing its life source and searching for an anchor.

Her heartbeat slowed to a gentle murmur.

Faded into a whisper.

Then…nothing.