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couldn’t pinpoint it. He circled the room, with his nose in the air, coming to a stop at the bookcase. It wouldn’t move. Out of frustration, he wedged his fingers behind it and heaved, determined to tip it over. He’d clean up the mess later, but he had to find the source of that smell.
    Putting his entire weight into it, it still wouldn’t budge. It was solid.
    “I’ll pull all the damn books out,” he muttered and started to do just that when a hot gust of air and a smoky smell overwhelmed him. Jim scrambled backward as a ghostly figure stepped out of the bookcase. Too scared to cry out, he turned and tripped over a box, hitting his head on a coffee table, then striking the cement floor.
    Jill’s husband found him that evening when he went to check on him. The coroner ruled it an accidental death. Which, of course, it was.
    But the land remembered…

PART II:
    NOW
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    Ohio
    March, present day
     
    Deep in thought, Sami stared out the kitchen window at her two horses grazing in the pasture. A loud crash, followed by Steve’s swearing, shattered her calm.
    “Goddammit!” he yelled from down the hallway.
    Her hopes of a quiet morning evaporated with his temper. “What’s wrong?” she called without moving from the sink. She didn’t want to know.
    She didn’t really care.
    She heard more crashes, like he was turning his office closet inside out. “I can’t find my box of notes!”
    Shaking her head, she walked down the hall and stood outside his office door. If she didn’t, she probably wouldn’t get a moment’s peace.
    I’ll stand here, out of the line of fire. Probably should consider a long morning ride, or cleaning the barn. She found both options preferable to listening to yet another of Steve’s angry diatribes.
    “Which notes?” she asked.
    She’d guessed right about the closet. He’d scattered several banker boxes across the office rug, tops off, contents strewn everywhere.
    Her appearance in the doorway startled him. “I had three red spiral notebooks I made notes in for that horror novel. I’m working on the sequel. I need them.”
    Despite his accusatory tone, she managed to keep her voice calm and neutral. “How long ago?”
    “What?”
    “How long ago did you last see them?”
    “Uh, a month, maybe.”
    “Down in the basement. Under the stairs. Box marked ‘Sequel.’” She turned.
    “Why the hell did you put them down there?” he yelled.
    I’ll be damned if I’m cleaning up that mess . “ I didn’t, Steven Corey. You did. You wanted to make sure you didn’t lose them after Matt got you the contract.” She turned on her heel when she felt his hand on her arm. It was darn near frightening. He still moved as quickly as a cat.
    “Sami, I’m sorry.” He looked sorry, too. Eyes appropriately downcast, the sad, hangdog stare.
    The look that used to work on her.
    “I know, Steve. You’re always sorry.” She shook off his grip and walked away.
     
    * * * *
     
    The horses greeted her at the pasture gate and found her guilty of carrying concealed vegetables. She produced the carrots and rewarded both geldings with scratches.
    “Hiya, fellas. Feel like a romp?”
    They followed her to the barn. She groomed Mutt, her Appaloosa gelding. She’d pony Jeff, the buckskin, behind her. While saddling Mutt, Sami’s anger slowly dissipated. It took longer after each fight.
    Their marriage approached the seven-year mark, and whether it was Steve’s stress over his publishing contracts for his latest book series, or something else, he had changed.
    She didn’t think he was drinking again.
    She hoped he wasn’t drinking again.
    Then again, if he was, it’d make her life a lot simpler, because she could quit waffling about whether or not to file for divorce and just get it done and get on with her life.
    “I’m so sick of this shit!” she yelled at the sky. She adjusted the cinch, still stewing over Steve’s latest outburst.
    Over the past couple of years