Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (best management books of all time txt) 📕

Jessica let out a massive yawn, her mouth widening almost large enough to swallow the whole bowl before her. She had eaten her weight in peas. Kimberley leaped from her seat, seeing an escape route.

“I’m gonna go put her to bed. I’ll be back out to help you clean up in a bit, Mom.”

“Nonsense. I can handle it myself. Go take care of your daughter.” Nicole’s tone was dismissive but loving.

“Thanks, Mom. Come on, you little stinker. Time for bath and bed.” Kimberley hoisted Jessica out of the highchair and walked into the kitchen to the sink to wash her pea-covered hands. She then made her way to the bedroom.

“Good night, you two,” she called out as she passed by the table again.

“Good night, sweetie,” was her mother’s reply.

A slight raising of his bottle of Bud Light and a “Night” was David’s.

Back in the bedroom after Jessica’s bath, Kimberley shuffled her feet across the deep stalks of the shag carpeting over to the crib. She put Jessica into her pajamas. A bit of tussling and horseplay ensued, trying to calm her down fully before bed, but eventually she won out and was able to rest her tired girl into the crib, blanket and elephant following shortly after.

Kimberley looked down at her daughter, admiring how perfect she was in her innocence and love of life, if only that was something she could capture again. She leaned down to kiss her forehead, hoping maybe a piece of that perfection would transfer to her lips and into her, if only for a moment. She leaned her belly into the bar of the crib…

CRACK! The smashing of glass against glass shot through the window and into the bedroom, shaking Kimberley through her core and shot her straight back up. She made her way to the window, her ears on full alert. She heard grass rustling and twigs snapping beneath the weight of something moving across them and then fading off into the distance, silence filling back into its rightful place, followed by crickets and the slight whistle of a light wind across the plains. The noise sounded like it started not far from the cottage. Kimberley hurried back out to the dinner table. David was still sitting there sipping on another beer while Nicole was cleaning everything up, including her nearly full plate of food.

“Did you two hear that?” she asked, trying to keep her anxiety in check to maintain the cool NYPD detective façade. Normally she was never rattled, but this was unfamiliar territory and she didn’t care for unpleasant surprises so close in proximity to Jessica.

“Hear what?” David asked.

“Like glass breaking and some rustling of grass and wood snapping, like there’s someone outside.” Kimberley stood still, trying to hear it again, but her mother was clanking dishes and running water in the kitchen.

David tipped back his beer and shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t hear anything.”

“Oh, honey. It’s probably just some raccoons or coyotes. We get a lot of them on the farm,” Nicole said, scraping her plate of food into the garbage.

“Nicole’s right. We got lots of animals out here in the country. They make a ton of noise at night.”

Kimberley’s shoulders stayed tense, but she accepted her mother and David’s answer.

Nicole walked into the dining room with a tied-up bag full of garbage.

“Oh, Mom. Let me get that,” Kimberley said, immediately sticking her hand out to take it. She had accepted their explanation for the noise outside, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to check it out. Things go bump in the night, but so do detectives.

Her mother looked as though she was about to say no, but when she saw the strained look in Kimberley’s eyes, she obliged, saying thank you.

Kimberley took the bag of garbage and headed out of the dining room, into the living room toward the front door.

“The garbage cans are behind the farmhouse,” Nicole said.

She slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and opened the front door, closing it behind her. The outside was quiet, save for crickets that sounded like they were all around her. The air was dry and dusty, pulling the moisture out of her lungs with each breath she took. Kimberley followed the stone path nearly up to the farmhouse, but cut away from it, heading toward the back of the home. A couple of spotlights provided areas of light, but not enough to look out behind the cottage nor any of the buildings on the property. Howls echoed in the distance. Kimberley carefully trudged to the back of the farmhouse and found four large black garbage cans. She opened the first one and tossed the bag inside. Taking a couple of steps away from the house, she stood quietly, listening. Crickets. A rustling sound all around her, the wheatgrass swaying in the soft night wind. Whatever the sound she heard earlier was gone, along with the thing that caused it.

Back inside, Kimberley slid off her shoes.

“I’m going to bed,” she called out, turning toward the hallway that led to her bedroom.

David entered the living room with a smirk on his face and a beer bottle in his hand.

“I guess round here ain’t child’s play after all, since we got our wildlife spookin’ an NYPD detective,” he said with a chuckle.

Kimberley rolled her eyes and decided against quipping back at him.

“Good night, David,” she said curtly.

“I’m just teasing ya, Kimberley. Good night.” He took a swig of his beer.

Inside the bedroom, she closed the door and turned off the light, feeling her way to the bed. Kimberley pulled the covers over her and laid still, listening to her daughter’s breathing. She closed her eyes, but the sleep didn’t come. Instead, her thoughts raced. One after another. What the hell was that noise outside? Did she do the right thing for her and her daughter by coming here? Should she have left the city? Should she have moved to Dead Woman Crossing? There