Murder in the Family - Before the Book

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. 

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Murder in the Family is now available at Amazon.