Omens
Page 113
I was also ready to deal with the problem of Todd Larsen. I would go see him as soon as Gabriel could arrange it. This wasn’t easy for me. I knew from Pamela—and my returning memories—how close we’d been, and I feared how much of that was tangled up in my love for my dad.
It would be harder now, too, seeing Todd when I knew he might be innocent. Might be. Perhaps I should have more conviction than that. I wish I did. But there was still a long road to travel before I could reach that conclusion. Some questions had been answered, but so many more had been raised.
A shadow passed overhead. I looked up quickly, tensing, but it was only a hawk. It circled once and flew off, but I kept staring up, thinking about ravens now. Ravens and owls and signs and portents. There was more going on here. So much more, and that was one puzzle I hadn’t even begun to unravel. I wasn’t sure where to start.
I was about to sit down when I stopped. Someone was watching me. I could feel it, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I glanced slowly over my shoulder and—
There was a dog beyond the park fence. Standing in the shadows. A massive dog, the size of a small pony, with thick curling black fur and eyes—
Red eyes.
I swallowed and blinked, and when I looked again, I could see the eyes weren’t red, but a rich mahogany brown, reddish when the light hit them just right.
The dog was staring at me. Staring right at me, gaze fixed on mine.
I heard Chandler’s voice.
The hounds will come to Cainsville and when they do, you’ll wish you’d made a very different choice today.
At a sound to my left, I glanced over sharply. Nothing. I turned back toward the dog, lifting my phone to get a picture . . .
But there was nothing there. The hound was gone. I was alone in the park again.
It would be harder now, too, seeing Todd when I knew he might be innocent. Might be. Perhaps I should have more conviction than that. I wish I did. But there was still a long road to travel before I could reach that conclusion. Some questions had been answered, but so many more had been raised.
A shadow passed overhead. I looked up quickly, tensing, but it was only a hawk. It circled once and flew off, but I kept staring up, thinking about ravens now. Ravens and owls and signs and portents. There was more going on here. So much more, and that was one puzzle I hadn’t even begun to unravel. I wasn’t sure where to start.
I was about to sit down when I stopped. Someone was watching me. I could feel it, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I glanced slowly over my shoulder and—
There was a dog beyond the park fence. Standing in the shadows. A massive dog, the size of a small pony, with thick curling black fur and eyes—
Red eyes.
I swallowed and blinked, and when I looked again, I could see the eyes weren’t red, but a rich mahogany brown, reddish when the light hit them just right.
The dog was staring at me. Staring right at me, gaze fixed on mine.
I heard Chandler’s voice.
The hounds will come to Cainsville and when they do, you’ll wish you’d made a very different choice today.
At a sound to my left, I glanced over sharply. Nothing. I turned back toward the dog, lifting my phone to get a picture . . .
But there was nothing there. The hound was gone. I was alone in the park again.
