Buku MURDER ON VANCOUVER ISLAND: Hatred, prejudice, or a heinous crime without motive? by KATHY GARTHWAITE

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MURDER ON VANCOUVER ISLAND: Hatred, prejudice, or a heinous crime without motive? by KATHY GARTHWAITE

Author:KATHY GARTHWAITE [GARTHWAITE, KATHY]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS bestselling crime fiction publisher

Published: 2019-03-25T22:00:00+00:00

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MURDER ON VANCOUVER ISLAND: Hatred, prejudice, or a heinous crime without motive? by KATHY GARTHWAITE

Chapter 19

The ride home couldn’t have been much more treacherous. Heavy rainfall and wind with gusts up to sixty kilometres blew against the windshield, making visibility almost non-existent. Scottie gripped the steering wheel firmly with both hands, tilted forward toward the glass. Each swipe of the wipers cleared the view for only seconds. She peered ahead with eyes squinted, a large frown encasing her face. Gibson maintained a lookout for dashing pedestrians and bicycles fighting the storm. Soon they were on the freeway. Water surging down the hard surface made the roads slick. Several times they sped through puddles pooled in low spots, shooting a rooster tail tumbling over the vehicle behind them. They got nailed with a few themselves, offering a fleeting glimpse of driving underwater.

“Thanks for running me around while my truck was getting repaired,” Gibson said when they arrived at the garage in Brentwood Bay.

 

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MURDER ON VANCOUVER ISLAND: Hatred, prejudice, or a heinous crime without motive? by KATHY GARTHWAITE

Author:KATHY GARTHWAITE [GARTHWAITE, KATHY] , Date: June 12, 2019

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Author:KATHY GARTHWAITE [GARTHWAITE, KATHY]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS bestselling crime fiction publisher

Published: 2019-03-25T22:00:00+00:00
Chapter 19

The ride home couldn’t have been much more treacherous. Heavy rainfall and wind with gusts up to sixty kilometres blew against the windshield, making visibility almost non-existent. Scottie gripped the steering wheel firmly with both hands, tilted forward toward the glass. Each swipe of the wipers cleared the view for only seconds. She peered ahead with eyes squinted, a large frown encasing her face. Gibson maintained a lookout for dashing pedestrians and bicycles fighting the storm. Soon they were on the freeway. Water surging down the hard surface made the roads slick. Several times they sped through puddles pooled in low spots, shooting a rooster tail tumbling over the vehicle behind them. They got nailed with a few themselves, offering a fleeting glimpse of driving underwater.

“Thanks for running me around while my truck was getting repaired,” Gibson said when they arrived at the garage in Brentwood Bay.

“No problem,” Scottie replied and drove off.

After a brief chat with the mechanic, Gibson got into his F150 and motored on home. The sheets of rain had tamed down to a drizzle, and then stopped by the time he parked in his driveway. A pool of white light lapped around the lamp. He looked across the street. Sea smoke that develops when frigid air passes over warm water obscured the bay. The fog rested only ten metres above the surface, allowing the cell tower beacon on the Malahat to glow through. He watched, mesmerized by the swirls of mist dancing in the cove. Then he realized how late it was and tore from his trance.

“Hello,” he shouted out for Katherine as he tripped into the house.

She tiptoed out of the kitchen looking frazzled. He saw the characteristic display of panic. The ragged breathing, the black shadows beneath the eyes and the collapsed stance were all present.

“How did the studying go today?”

“Okay, I guess.” She rested against the doorframe with one foot planted on top of the other. Her hair tumbled forward partially covering her face.

He reached over and placed his hand under her chin, lifting gently until their eyes engaged, her dark chocolate brown to his deep charcoal.

“We’re meeting Andrew in an hour. The break will do you good,” he said.

“Can’t we cancel? The final exam is just days away.”

To Katherine, graduating seemed the only way to quell her fears—her attacks.

Gibson saw the tension in her shoulders and her shallow breathing quicken.

“I’m buying.” Just a tickle of silliness.

A tiniest of smiles twitched at the corner of her mouth. She tried to suppress it with her hand. She pressed into him, lips brushed against his neck. He tightened his hold on her slender frame. They remained embraced for several minutes. He could sense her body release as her unease subsided. Her softness against the strength of his chest was intoxicating. They drew apart and gazed at each other. They dropped hands, and he stroked her hair.

“Better get moving before I run into trouble.” Gibson lifted his eyebrows suggestively. ‘You know what I mean.’

The grin

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