Page 78 of A Seer and Present Danger

Rain turned to hail, coming down so hard, I couldn’t see the street ahead of me. I pulled over onto the shoulder and put on my hazard lights.

A weather warning flashed on my phone, but after five minutes, the hail changed to rain—rain that fell like bullets. At least I could see the road enough to slowly ease back onto it.

Futures bobbed and flashed:

I made it to the diner…

I made it to the diner…

I made it to the diner…

…so I continued at a snail’s pace, even though I knew it was dangerous, even though I knew I should turn around. When I finally turned into the diner parking lot, I cheered.

“I made it to the diner! Woo, way to go future!”

There were only two cars in the lot. One was Buzz’s, the other was Gail’s. No Detective Vandre.

“Okay. Maybe one more peek into the future wouldn’t hurt?” I pulled the hood up on my jacket but didn’t get out of the car. Not yet. I looked into the future to see if Vandre was really here.

Futures…did nothing.

No flash, no images.

Just…nothing.

“Uh-oh. Is this what happened to you, Yancy?” I pulled out my phone, to…what? See if there were any “Hey your future got cut off in the storm” warnings or something?

There was no cell signal.

Well, shoot.

It wasn’t like losing connectivity was unusual. Storms took out our electricity and cell towers all the time.

I could turn around. I could go back to town.

The rain came down like shoveled gravel. Driving here hadn’t been very safe, and the storm was just beginning. Driving back meant the risk of trees falling, flash floods, mud slides, and washed-out streets.

The diner had power, a land line that might still be up, a generator, and plenty of food and water.

“Stay here it is,” I said.

I zipped up my coat, grabbed my purse, and made a run for the front door.

It opened easily and I jetted inside to stand on the mat, dripping.

The diner was warm and smelled like apple pie, coffee, bacon, and maple.

There were two people at separate tables: Gail, looking glum, and an older man named Charles who had probably gotten a taxi so he could order his weekly biscuits and gravy and tell us they were too salty.

I shucked out of my coat and hung it in the storeroom. I tucked my purse in my locker but kept my (still dead) phone in my pocket.

I patted my hair (not too wet) and swung into the kitchen to check on Buzz.

He was sitting on a high stool, his back to the sinks where it looked like he’d just finished off the dishes.

“So, there’s two of us crazy enough to drive out here, huh?” he asked.

“Guess so. Shelly didn’t show up?”