In the Blink of an Eye Read Online Free

Julia saw her again the day after her arrival. It didn’t show up fleetingly, as did her concern about Dulcie. No, this was an intense apprehension that emanated from Kristin’s core—the same mood Julia had sensed that night in the Biddles’ stair hall.
    A few days after her arrival in Lily Dale—a few days after the aura of dread came to permanently roost in her beautiful blue eyes—Kristin was dead.
    Her death was officially ruled an accidental drowning. And most of the time, Julia believes that.
    Most of the time.
    Where is Iris? she wonders belatedly, trying unsuccessfully to peer through the opaque glass of the oval window. Iris usually answers the door right away.
    Julia checks her watch. It’s only a little past eight—too early for Iris to be out. The official season hasn’t yet started, and Lily Dale’s sparse businesses—a small cafeteria, library, and a few shops—won’t open until later this morning.
    Iris can’t have left the village because the ancient VW Bug she keeps in Lily Dale is parked on the gravel driveway beside the house.
    Worry has begun to filter through Julia’s vague curiosity about her friend’s whereabouts.
    She transfers the bouquet to her left hand and knocks on the door, loudly.
    Maybe she’s gone for a walk, she speculates, but quickly dismisses the idea. Not sedentary, overweight Iris, who often laughingly says that her motto in life is “why stand when you can sit?” She only walks when Pilar drags her along.
    Okay, well, maybe she’s in the tub.
    But that’s her nighttime ritual. Iris is a creature of habit. She once told Julia that a long bath always relaxes her before going to bed. It wouldn’t make sense for her to take one first thing in the morning. And she can’t be taking a shower. There’s no nozzle above the old claw-foot bathtub.
    â€œIris?” Julia calls after a few more disconcerting moments of silence, even as she realizes that Iris probably won’t hear her because the windows are closed.
    Wouldn’t Iris have opened them this morning?
    Wouldn’t she have raised the shades?
    â€œIris?” Julia’s voice is higher pitched than usual, taking on an edge of panic.
    Still no answer.
    Julia hesitates, her hand pressed against her mouth as she ponders the situation. She glances over at Pilar’s house next door, but the older woman is nowhere to be seen.
    What should I do?
    I can’t just leave. Something is wrong. I can feel it.
    Her trepidation mounting, Julia bends to take a key from beneath the rubber doormat at her feet.
    T HE PHONE RINGS just as Paine is stepping out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he hurriedly rubs it over his body as he strides across the hall into the bedroom to answer it. He glances at the clock on the bedside table as he reaches for the receiver. It’s only seven-thirty. Who would be calling at this hour of the morning?
    â€œHello?”
    â€œIs this Paine Landry?”
    â€œYes . . .”
    The caller’s voice is female, and vaguely familiar. It takes only a moment for him to place it. When he does, his breath catches in his throat.
    Until now, he’s forgotten about Dulcie waking him in the wee hours. But the unsettling incident instantly rushes back at him, along with the disturbing memory of another phone call three years ago—a call that began just as this one is beginning.
    â€œThis is Julia Garrity. From Lily Dale—”
    â€œI know where you’re from,” he says tersely, sitting on the rumpled bed, the towel falling to his feet unheeded.
    I know where you’re from . . . and I know why you’re calling.
    â€œ I—I don’t know how to say this. I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you . . .”
    He waits.
    He prepares.
    He knows what she’s going to say; yet still, when he hears the words, utter disbelief swoops in to claim him,