Murder in the Family
opens with Molly McClelland arriving back in Alabama after inheriting her
hoarder aunt's house. But a lot of the tension in the book is based on what she
left behind in Missouri.
The following scene was the original opening of the
book, but I deleted it in order to get into the primary story faster. But if
you're curious, here's the chaos that Molly was called away from, setting the
scene to one of the biggest heartbreaks in the novel. If you've read Murder in
the Family, I hope you enjoy this. If you haven't (and why not???), I hope it
intrigues you enough to check out the novel.
Murder in the Family
Before the Book
Sideways
rain cast a blinding sheen across the windshield. The wind that drove it rocked
the Ford Explorer as if it were a cradle. Its ancient joints squawked in
protest, almost matching the jarring ringtone of Molly McClelland’s cell phone.
“You
gonna answer that?” Jimmy Catron braked hard. The SUV fishtailed on the rain-slick
country road and slid to a halt.
Molly
jumped as a blast of lightening lit up the inside of her Explorer and charged
the air of the Missouri plain. She lowered her camera and glared at her driver.
A crack of thunder almost drowned out her reply. “We’re too close, Jimmy. I
don’t want to talk on the phone.”
“Want
me to get—”
“I
want you to drive! It’s about to get rough.”
“It’s
already rough! I can’t drive in this! There’s junk all over the road, and I
can’t even see past the hood!”
Sarah
peeked over the back seat. “Could be important. This is the fourth time they’ve
called in the last half hour.”
“Everyone
who’s important is right here.”
A
thin, pale arm snaked between the seats, and Sarah Jenkins snatched Molly’s
phone off the console. “It’s Russell Williams.”
“I
don’t know a Russell Williams. He can leave a message. Sarah, aren’t you
supposed to be watching this thing on radar?”
“I
am. It’s not—oh, wait!”
Molly’s
cell phone flew out of the back seat, bounced off the console, hit Molly’s knee,
and landed in one of the camera bags at her feet. “Ouch! Sarah!”
“There’s
a hook! A good one!”
Adrenaline
surged through Molly as she and Jimmy peered through the rain-drenched windows,
scanning the dark and roiling clouds for any sign of rotation. “Where?”
From
the backseat came a furious clicking of computer keys. “Um . . . it’s . . .
latitude . . . oh!” Sarah’s arm shot between the seats again, pointing straight
ahead of them. “Take the next right. Should be County Road 64.”
With
a long sigh, Jimmy Catron stepped on the accelerator and slung the sturdy,
hail-beaten SUV into the turn, pushing them north across a wide expanse of farm
fields. A hard blast of west-to-east wind caught them as he did, and the
muscles in his wiry arms tightened as he struggled to keep the vehicle on the
road. His dark hair flopped down over his forehead, and he jerked his head to
throw it back.
Pea-sized
hail pinged off the Explorer and sideways torrents of rain continued to slash
at them. In fields on either side, young corn stalks bent double, and miniature
soybean plants undulated and thrashed like a wild green sea. Then, through the
deluge, Molly spotted what they had come to find and pounded the dash.
“There!
There! Eleven o’clock. Sarah, text the station. We should be ready to start
streaming soon. It’s falling right out of the sky. Here.” She handed the still
camera over the back seat to Sarah, then dug her video camera out of the bag
between her feet. “Get us as close as you can.”
Jimmy
Catron pushed the SUV toward the storm cell, leaving the road to cross through
a bare field, the Explorer bouncing and jerking over rain-sodden clumps and
furrows. He skidded it to a stop as the rain and hail suddenly vanished. “I
think this is it. There she blows.”
They
all stared. A silvery white finger of clouds snaked out of the sky, wispy at
first, then filling out the funnel shape with a solid grayish white. Its tip
poked into the ground with a roar of a swirling vortex, and the air around them
turned yellowish, then green.
“Touchdown!”
screamed Sarah. She banged on the back of Jimmy’s seat as she and Molly
scrambled out of the Explorer. Molly stumbled over loose clods of mud, but her
boots held fast. She kept her balance and focused the camera. The air smelled
like ozone and soaked earth, a scent that exhilarated her. She aimed at the
funnel, zooming in on the tip, which swelled as the spinning cloud stirred up
debris, slinging it around in an ever-growing skirt around the base. She
followed the funnel up into the dark clouds, where the top of it hooked onto
the mother storm. “Come to me, my beauty,” she murmured, as if she were
whispering to a lover.
Beside her, Sarah shot rapidly, pausing
occasionally to wipe dust and moisture from the clear filter covering the lens.
“This is awesome!” she screamed into
the wind, bouncing up and down before refocusing her camera.
Molly fell silent, aware that the
television station in St. Joseph may have picked up her feed from the video camera
by now. She zoomed in on the funnel and held her breath as the base of the
tornado widened and grew fatter with dirt and debris. Her t-shirt and shorts
fluttered hard against her, and her short mass of thick curls eddied and
whipped about in the driving wind, barely held in place by a wide headband. Her
skin stung from the wind-driven bits of grain and earth, and adrenaline sang in
her blood.
The roar of the funnel drowned out almost
all other sounds, and Molly realized it was going to broadside a shed she could
barely see at the edge of her viewfinder. She waved one arm to get Sarah’s
attention, then pointed toward the shed. They both caught the moment the base of
the tornado crossed over, splintering the small building, boards scattering into
the wind like dandelion fluff. The tin roof soared upward, caught up in the
swirling maelstrom.
Over the roar, Molly barely heard the
Explorer horn beeping rapidly. She turned to see Jimmy get out, motioning
frantically. Molly, unable to hear, squinted at him, trying to read his lips.
He pointed at the top of the storm and repeated himself. This time, she got it.
“It’s shifting!”
Twisting, she looked back at the storm
without the camera in front of her. Magenta, purple, and gold lightening danced
throughout the cell, and Molly realized the temperature had dropped again. She
traced the storm down to the ground, watching the tip dance more to the
southeast.
Southeast.
Toward us. The tip,
digging into the earth and churning up even more wreckage, had definitely turned
in their direction. As she watched, the funnel fattened and broadened into the
shape of an elephant’s trunk.
“We need to get out of here!” Jimmy
grabbed her arm.
She nodded. “Get back to the truck!” She
thrust the camera into his hands, and turned toward Sarah. “Sarah!”
Sarah glanced at her, then kept shooting madly, fully enchanted by the storm. The
winds whipped her tank top and shorts tight against her petite frame, and her
blonde ponytail stood out almost perpendicular to her head.
The debris escalated suddenly, slicing
about in crazy devilish swirls. The roar of the storm had deepened to the
thunderous roar of a jet engine, and the hail returned, dime-sized balls that
pelted their heads and skin. Molly ran toward Sarah, a slow motion jog against
the wind. She snagged the younger woman’s arm. “Now, Sarah! We need to—”
Sarah pushed her away at first, then froze,
her eyes widening, her attention on something behind Molly.
Molly had no time to turn. Something hard
and flat slammed into her from behind. She and Sarah both hit the ground. Molly,
dazed, pushed up on her hands and knees as she heard the SUV grind into the dirt
next to them, creating a temporary windbreak. She looked around at Sarah, as
Jimmy dropped to her side.
“You okay?” he screamed. Molly nodded and
pointed at Sarah. Jimmy crawled to her and froze for a second, all color
leaving his face. Then he moved rapidly, screaming at Molly. “You drive! Move!”
He scooped Sarah up, holding her close to his chest. Only then did Molly see
the blood on Sarah’s face, the spray of it down her chest.
“Oh, Lord, please, no!”
“Molly! Move! Get the back door!” Jimmy
sprinted for the SUV.
Molly
grabbed Sarah’s camera and followed, adrenaline forcing all grogginess from her
head. She opened the back door, and Jimmy shoved in with Sarah, pushing equipment
from the seat onto the floor. Molly tossed the camera into the front and got
behind the wheel. She did a donut in the field, heading away from the storm.
Pushing the accelerator hard, she glanced
in the rearview mirror. “Jimmy?”
He shook his head, not looking up from
Sarah’s face. “Drive, Molly. It’s bad.”
She drove, but reached over, pulling her
camera bag out of the floor. She scratched around in it till she found her
phone. Russell Williams had called again. His name shown like a beacon on the
phone. Molly ignored it and called 911.
Her GPS got them to a crossroads far away
from the storm cell, where the helicopter met them. Jimmy had done as much as
he could to staunch the blood flow from Sarah’s face and head, but she remained
unconscious. Several of her wounds still oozed puddles of blood that smeared
through her hair and over Jimmy’s clothes, filling the SUV with its
unmistakable metallic smell.
The EMTs were waiting as Molly screeched
the Explorer to a stop. They clustered around, helping ease Sarah from the
backseat and onto a gurney. Only then did Molly get a good look at the grayish,
slashed face of her friend. Fear deepened within her, making her ache and
tremble.
His voice shaking, Jimmy had explained
that a large board had hit both of them, but the end that clipped Sarah had
nails in it. Molly would have bruises; Sarah had puncture wounds, some of them
deep. One, possibly, into her brain. The EMTs raced back to the helicopter with
the gurney, motioning that one of them could go. She pushed Jimmy toward the
helicopter, and he didn’t hesitate. He pulled up in beside the EMTs, as one
slid the door shut.
Backing up, Molly watched the rotors spin
faster, and the airborne ambulance lifted off slowly, then gained speed rapidly
as it turned and headed for St. Joseph. As it disappeared into the distance,
Molly felt the last ounce of energy seep out her. She sagged heavily against
the side of the Explorer.
So close! They’d been standing next to
each other! A single board had hit both of them. Yet here she stood, bruised,
while Sarah had been critically injured. The thought that Sarah could die
seized through Molly like an electric shock. Her knees gave way, and every
muscle quivered as the adrenaline drained from her. She sank down in the dirt,
sobs heaving out of her. The words that jerked from her weren’t a prayer; she
begged. “Please, Lord, save her. Please.”
Through the open door of the Explorer,
Molly could hear the sound that had plagued them all morning. Her cell phone
rang again.
-------------
Murder in the Family is now available at Amazon.
I always loved Halloween. I
started trick-or-treating with my family when I was six (I was a ghost under a
pillow case). 
The shot of me on the fireplace
is my last outfit. Yes, that’s a tribble hanging around my neck. My cat (a real
one) went with me, and people would call Grandma outta the den to come look at
the black kitty. 
But with every knock on the door,
it became harder and harder to celebrate. I didn’t think it would be, but the
memories, though cherished and precious, changed it. 
And that’s OK. Things do change.
Most of life does. 
Murder in the Family
opens with Molly McClelland arriving back in Alabama after inheriting her
hoarder aunt's house. But a lot of the tension in the book is based on what she
left behind in Missouri. 
Kelly Irvin is back! This
time she has given us a delightful romance set in an Amish community in Big Sky
Country. And she's offering a print copy to one of the readers who comment below.
Best-selling author Kelly
Irvin is the author of Mountains of Grace, the first book in the Amish of Sky
Country series. Her other works include the Every Amish Season series from
Zondervan/ HarperCollins, including Upon a Spring Breeze, winner of the
Readers’ Choice Award in the long romance category. The series follows the Amish
of Bee County Series, which included The Beekeeper’s Son, subject of a starred
review from Publisher’s Weekly, calling it “an intricately woven masterpiece.”
Among her other works are novellas in five collections. She is also the author
of the Bliss Creek Amish series and the New Hope Amish series, both from
Harvest House Publishing. She has also penned four romantic suspense novels, Over
the Line, Tell Her No Lies, A Deadly Wilderness, and No Child of Mine.
Today I'm thrilled to welcome Barbara
Cameron to my Author, Center Stage series. I first got to know Barbara and her
work at Abingdon Press, and it's been a joy to work with her. Barbara has
graciously offered TWO signed copies of the book to readers of this blog.
Comment below for a chance to win one! Let's start with a description of her
new book, Summer's Promise.
Today
I welcome Brian C. Johnson to the Author, Center Stage. His new release, Send
Judah First, went on sale to rave reviews. Tell us what it’s about. 
Brian
C. Johnson honors the struggles and accomplishments of the ordinary citizens who
launched the Civil Rights Movement by committing himself personally and professionally
to the advancement of multicultural and inclusive education.
Please
welcome Thanh Doung Boyer and Lisa Worthey Smith to Author, Center Stage. It’s
an honor to host them, and to have them share Thanh’s remarkable story with
you. Let’s start with the basics. What’s the book about?
I
come from a long line of Southern women who didn’t mind standing out. 
