Beastly Winter — Chapter 18

Just inside the hardware store, Dale examined the room. Neat and fully stocked, shelves loaded with home improvement necessities, the space looked ordinary as any day. Except for the unlocked door and the bright lights, if the CLOSED sign was to be believed.

“Mr. Bunning,” Dale called out, in case Mac was bent down restocking some fast-moving product. No one stood to answer.

Dale didn’t care for this at all. Sheriff Harris had described the man at the motel. Some psycho killer in Westhaven? Unlikely, but who knew nowadays?

Maybe Mac was in back.

Dale had a queasy thought. The Jeep. Was he interrupting some steamy sexcapade? He was a little hazy on the legality of extramarital affairs but had been raised that whatever happened behind closed doors was no one else’s business. Of course, those terrorists had changed all that.

He clomped his way toward the curtain separating the rooms, wanting to give fair warning to Mac and anyone with him.

Raising the cloth, he looked into dark room. Whether it was that way due to a blown fuse or else intentionally shut off, he had to check things out.

“Mac?” The echoes of his voice were flat and eerie. Dale grabbed his flashlight, switched it on, played the powerful beam over tall stacks of boxes. Mac must be…