My first novel, “Scars” was published a couple years ago. I thought I would share the opening chapter with all of you.

Prologue

“The evil that men do lives after them; the good is often interred with their bones.” Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene 2.

The storm surprised her.

Jennifer Sampson could have driven to the Baker farm, but she had been unwilling to risk anyone seeing her car. Safer to walk—only a couple of miles through the fields. The weather had been warm and dry for almost two months. The kind of early Montana spring she used to love. No rain and no worries.

It wasn’t the same anymore. Was anything?

A fierce downpour started when she was halfway to her destination. Jennifer clutched the raincoat in her arms that she had wrapped tightly around a slim white envelope. By the time she reached the Bakers’ road, her clothes were soaked, but hopefully the letter was still dry. Jennifer stood in the rain and studied the farmyard for several minutes. The sky had darkened into night before she crossed the ditch to the homestead. Mud clutched at her shoes and threatened to topple her. She fell. Once. Twice. At last she reached the gravel of the driveway.

As she edged into the yard, the wet clay sticking to her arms and legs began to trickle down onto her dress, into her shoes. It didn’t matter. The letter was safe. Jennifer leaned against the edge of a building and caught her breath. A tremor ran through her. Light flickered inside the house, and she could see Amanda Baker moving about the kitchen.

Jennifer had inched halfway across the driveway when lightning flashed and changed the gloom to silver. Her neighbor stood staring out the window. No turning back now. She hurried to the porch, the floorboards creaking under her feet. Lightning flashed again.

Amanda threw open the door and pulled her into the house. Trembling, Jennifer contemplated the water pooling at her feet. Why had she come? Who would believe her? She took a step backward toward the night. “I can’t stay.”

The other woman’s words echoed in the distance, but they made no sense. Jennifer struggled to focus, and gradually her confusion ebbed away. “I need you to hide this.” Her hands shook as she unfolded the raincoat and held out the envelope. “Hide it. Don’t open it. Keep it safe. Please do that for me?”

Jennifer’s eyes locked on Amanda’s as a shiver rippled through her.

“All right, dear. How long do you want me to keep it?”

Jennifer pressed the envelope into her grasp. “You’ll know.”