Night of Shadows Read Free

complaint.
    "Really, Melinda, I don't
understand why you think you have to do this," Perry repeated, as they
finished their meal. "That area of New Mexico is practically a wilderness.
You're a city girl. You'll never find your way around out there. And you won't
be helping anyone."
    "You're forgetting. I'm very
resourceful." Melinda swooped the dirty utensils off the table, and piled
them into the dishwasher. "So stop trying to turn this discussion into a
debate. The decision is made. What I need most from you right now is your
support."
    Perry stood and walked over to her.
He reached out, as if to touch her. But his hand paused in mid-air at her
no-nonsense look. Their friendship had its limits. And so far Melinda never had
allowed their relationship to cross over a certain boundary.
    Perry held up his hands in
surrender. "Okay, okay — I can see your mind is made up. But you can at least
keep me posted. If you need me, I'll be here. You can count on me, you know. You
don't have to be so independent all the time."
    He regarded her tenderly and
halfway expectantly, as though inviting her to respond. She lowered her eyelids
and looked away.
    "I'll keep in touch," she
promised.
    ***

    Melinda was lucky she had been able
to book a flight for so early the next morning. She had made her connection in
Albuquerque, and was on the last lap of her journey into southern New Mexico as
the 19-seater aircraft she was in revved up for takeoff.
    It was an unsettling contrast to the
spacious 727 jet that had carried her from Atlanta. She gripped both arms of
the seat she was wedged in as the commuter plane edged toward the runway. It
was destined for Roswell, the largest city in the remote area where she was
bound. The noise from straining engines almost deafened her. Something in her
expression must have inspired the sympathetic look cast her way by the man
seated across the aisle.
    "It's not nearly as bad as it
sounds," he said in a raised voice that competed with the roar. "These
little planes really are quite safe. We joke about 'em, though. We call this
outfit Treetop Airlines around these parts."
    Melinda smiled crookedly as the
plane shuddered. She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds as her stomach
lurched with the takeoff.
    "Is this your first trip to
Roswell, ma'am?" the stranger asked.
    Reluctantly, she opened her eyes
and nodded "yes." Only two other passengers were aboard, a heavyset
man and a woman seated near the front. Melinda was grateful that the man who
had spoken to her at last pulled out a book and started reading. She was in no
mood for small talk.
    She leaned closer to the window as
the plane skimmed the miles of New Mexico territory that revealed very few
cities, even fewer trees and rolling hills of brown cut by dry arroyos
sprinkled with yellow grass. In the distance, mountains jutted majestically
from the terrain.
    She looked down at the long, dark
shadows cast as the rising sun remained slanted low on the horizon. Could it be
that Joan was down there somewhere? Lost? Kidnapped?
    She then was stabbed with the
inevitable guilt.
    When their parents were killed in a
car wreck six years ago, Joan had been only 14 years old. But Melinda, at 19,
already was enrolled in college in nearby Atlanta, which was about 150 miles
from their hometown of Leesburg, Georgia.
    Melinda had none of the doubts that
seemed to plague the majority of her classmates. She knew exactly what she
wanted. She was a confident, straight-A student intent on a career in
advertising.
    She had been devastated, of course,
over the death of her parents. But her grief was nothing compared to the
lingering sorrow experienced by her little sister. Joannie endured nothing but
upheaval. Their parents' will named Aunt Polly, the girls' only living
relative, as their guardian until they reached the age of 21.
    Aunt Polly was a spinster,
accustomed to coping only with a few spoiled cats, until Joannie invaded her
household in Orlando, Florida. The austere