Free Eye of the Beholder (A Miss Henry Mystery Book 7) (Miss Henry Mystery Series) by Melanie Jackson Page B

refugees. That would have to do.
    “Thank you, Jeffrey. That would be wonderful.”
    A particularly angry screech rent the air and the elderly Jeffrey winced. Juliet sympathized. She had developed an eye tic because of that same ear-piercing tonality which went off every five minutes or so.
    Jeffrey went to fetch the car while Juliet and her duffel waited just inside the terminal’s doors. Jeffrey would have taken her duffel, but Juliet was firm that it remain with her.
    The lights outside were not numerous but adequate to show that the rain was coming down in a much more horizontal than vertical fashion. That meant that the wind was freshening and blowing from the east. Juliet fastened her coat and tensed her muscles for the ten-yard dash.
    The limousine was an old one , a Packard luxury sedan that looked a lot like the black cabs of London, with the addition of whitewall tires. This made her more interested in meeting the reclusive Mr. Markham.
    Juliet took firm hold of her duff el and hurried out before Jeffrey could leave the car. She need only travel thirty feet and it was under a portico. There was no need for the old man to brave the storm twic,e since the wind was more bracing than a dose of smelling salts. And once she was inside she planned to enjoy the limousine’s luxuriance, which no doubt included splendid heating which would dry out her damp clothing.
    Though it might have been traditional for her to sit in the back, Juliet took her place on the bench seat beside Jeffrey, admiring the wood trim and the lovely heat gushing out of the vents in the dashboard. After the are-you-ready conversation, neither of them was inclined to banter. Jeffrey needed to keep both eyes on the road where debris was beginning to pile up, and Juliet was reveling in the silence.
    Jeffrey did not drive as if out to prove his virility. To do so would have ended in disaster, but that wouldn’t have stopped some men. Still, he was so hesitant when they came to crossings that Juliet began to suspect that he hadn’t traveled their route before and was having to search for street signs and landmarks. She said nothing, peering with him at the dark as the night slid by at twenty miles per hour.
    The small metropolis and its relatively smooth roads were soon left behind. The last sign of civilization was a drowning neon sign in Satanic red announcing BEER & BAIT HERE.
    A suicidal deer jumped in front of the Packard a half a mile later but it was gone again before Jeffrey could apply the brakes. After that they saw not a soul, nor any lights except those provided by the Packard’s wide-set headlights. They might be the last two people on earth, a thought that was a long way from comforting, and Juliet had to resist the urge to get out her phone and check the bars. There wouldn’t be any. There hadn’t been any outside of the airport since the storm started.
    “I had no idea that we were so close to the forest,” Juliet finally said. The silence was growing uncomfortable and she was tired of the sound of rain pounding on the roof.
    “This is one of five fingers of woods that reach around the city,” Jeffrey answered. “This one belongs to the Reich family.”
    The description was unpleasant, bringing to mind a giant’s grasping hand. Juliet knew that there were lots of narrow roads that led somewhere eventually. She lived on one herself. But usually these roads were paved and gave some sign of their purpose or goal—frontage roads or emergency escape firebreaks, for instance. But these roads usually had signs, however old and rusted, announcing their purpose and their number should they have not been graced with an actual name. The road they were traveling had posted neither name nor number. It did have a gully on the right that gushed hard enough to carry away a body or even a whole car, a thought which was far from reassuring. And where were the antique stores and roadhouses that area of the country was supposedly littered