Cold Fear Read Free

life, and the only person who’d known about it was dead.
    Why did she feel compelled to come back to this strip of coast, time and time again? Punishment? Self-flagellation? Her mouth tightened. Maybe. Or were these islands really home?
    They didn’t feel like it. She felt like an outsider here. An interloper. A goddamned dingbatter.
    What she’d done all those years ago was unforgivable, but at the time she hadn’t felt as if she’d had a choice. Age had brought a little wisdom, but her mistakes weren’t something she could put right with an apology or a twelve-step program. She’d messed up, and she didn’t know how to make it right without ruining more lives, her own included. She turned away. It was ancient history. No one would ever know.
    The wind whipped her hair past her cheeks, blinding her for a moment. She faced the sea and gathered the strands together in a long twist, stuffing it back under her hat. She pulled the hat down tight, ignoring the short, sharp tug on her scalp.
    Last night while she’d been working, a big Nor’easter had brushed its fingers against the flanks of the Outer Banks but thankfully hadn’t delivered a flat-out punch. Another storm was brewing in the Atlantic and promised even more fun, depending on which direction it decided to take.
    Storms and hurricanes were a constant danger to these barrier islands. Locals only worried when they had to and, frankly, right now, she was too tired. She’d been up all night, working the graveyard shift at the local hospital. Once Barney had a good walk she’d crash for a few hours before heading back to the hospital for a split shift that evening. She was covering for a few colleagues who’d gone to visit family over the holidays. She hoped her sister remembered not to make too much noise when she got home from Helena’s house later, but she wouldn’t put money on it.
    She whistled to her wet, sandy dog and headed toward the boardwalk that led through the cordoned-off dune system. Up on the road, a Department of Natural Resources vehicle had pulled up behind a burgundy sedan that had been parked there when she arrived earlier. God help the poor soul when Duncan Cromwell got hold of them. The guy was fanatical in his protection of those dunes. Her SUV was another hundred yards south, near the lighthouse. Barney arrived at her side, complete with rancid ball, and she clipped his leash to his collar and strode along the path.
    Barney started to whine a few seconds before she heard the sirens.
    “It’s okay, boy.” She rubbed his neck and opened the trunk of her SUV, letting the dog hop in before she turned to see what was going on. An ambulance screeched to a stop behind the DNR rig.
    Damn.
    As tired as she was, she couldn’t ignore the potential that someone might need her help. She got into her car and drove up to the other vehicles. Parking behind the ambulance, leaving plenty of room for a stretcher.
    “Stay, boy.” She got out and clambered through the thin wire fence, following the route the EMTs had taken. Dread skated along her nerves when she realized exactly where she was heading. Too bad, Izzy . Her muscles burned as she climbed the steep foredune, but she didn’t slow down. When she got to the top, the scene below made her flinch. Bile hit her throat but she swallowed it. Slipping her way down the bank, she shouted, “What’s the situation?”
    Duncan Cromwell had draped his coat over his daughter, Helena, who lay unmoving in the sand at his side. He was attempting mouth-to-mouth.
    Izzy pushed him out of the way and probed the girl’s neck for a pulse. Helena’s skin felt like ice. Her eyes were cloudy, her body slightly stiff, but no sign of lividity. Izzy took a clean tissue from her pocket and brushed it across Helena’s cornea. The girl didn’t blink. No corneal reflex. Izzy placed her hands over Helena’s eyes and held them there for long seconds. When she removed them Helena’s pupils showed no reaction to the