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

of the vehicle and walked to the front door. He twisted the handle and the door opened.

“She doesn’t lock her doors?” Kimberley questioned.

“No one does around here. This ain’t New York City,” Sam said, entering the small home.

Kimberley pursed her lips together. For the most part, New York City was safe. True, people didn’t leave their doors unlocked, but they also didn’t walk around in fear of being murdered or robbed at any moment. Like any city, there were unsafe areas, but, on the whole, it was safe. It was obvious when someone hadn’t been to NYC, because they talked about it in generalities, based on what they’d seen on television. Looking at Sam in irritation, Kimberley presumed he had never set foot outside of Oklahoma.

The front door opened to a small living room and an open-concept kitchen. Inside, everything was immaculate and well kept. Not a single item was out of place. The home was sparsely furnished, the living room only having a loveseat, a coffee table, and a TV stand with a small flat-screen television. The kitchen had a square table with two chairs and a highchair. They walked through the house, down the hall, passing a bathroom that was spotless, a nursery that had nothing more than a few toys, a crib, and a rocking chair. Hannah’s room was like the rest of the house: clean and sparsely decorated. Just a made full-size bed, a dresser, and an end table sat inside the room. Hannah clearly didn’t have much, but she took pride in what little she had.

“She didn’t leave in a hurry,” Kimberley said, looking inside the closet. Her clothes were hung up and color-coded and an empty travel suitcase sat on the floor.

Sam nodded his head while pulling open some drawers of the dresser. All the clothes were folded neatly and stood up on end.

“She was tidy,” he noted.

Kimberley raised an eyebrow. “A little surprising.”

“Why’s that?” Sam looked over to Kimberley.

“The run-ins I had with her, she was always late, flustered, and frantic, and with a young child, I’d expect an unkempt home. You should have seen my apartment in New York—toys everywhere, piles of clothes,” Kimberley thought out loud.

“You’re right, she’s very tidy,” Sam said, looking around.

“Like a type-A personality. She’s a planner.”

Kimberley walked over to Hannah’s bed. On the wall above it was a large bulletin board covered in photos and quotes, almost like a mood board for a life she wanted and dreamed of. There were pictures of places overseas: the Caribbean, Australia, the Eiffel Tower. A pang of sadness hit Kimberley like a punch to the gut. Hannah wanted more out of life. She wanted out of Dead Woman Crossing. And she got the exact opposite. She shook her head in disgust at the person who took it all away from her.

“It’s just so sad. Look at this.” Kimberley pointed to the mood board.

Sam stood beside her and glanced up, scanning all the colorful images.

“She had so much she wanted to do and see, and some asshole just ripped it all away.”

“It’s a fucking shame.” Sam shook his head. He looked over at Kimberley. “You alright?”

Kimberley pulled her eyes from the mood board and looked at Sam. “I will be once we catch this guy.”

They walked back down the hallway, into the living room, giving Hannah’s home a final once-over.

“I was hoping we’d find something like a planner saying, ‘Meeting with so and so.’” Sam scratched at his chin.

“Well, we’ve got her cell phone. Burns is in touch with her provider to get the device unlocked and pull records,” Kimberley said.

“How long ’til we have those?”

“A day or two.”

“Why don’t we head on over to Kent’s place? He don’t live too far from here.”

“Maybe we’ll have more luck with this town’s only ghost tour operator than we’ve had with Lisa and Hannah’s home.”

“Don’t get your hopes up—Kent Wills is a bit of a nutjob.” Sam tilted his head.

15

Leaving Hannah’s house, Kimberley and Sam were once again navigating back roads on their way out of town toward the outskirts where Kent Wills lived. With wide-open space and no cars in sight, the road felt like their own; a telegraphed path that their vehicle had to traverse merely for the sake of it. Looking out at the countryside, Kimberley was already starting to grow tired of the same scenery set in a seemingly continuous loop. Tree. Wheatgrass. Tree. Wheatgrass. Oh look, a cornfield. Tree. Wheatgrass.

Could this be any more drab? Kimberley thought to herself. I mean hell at least in—

SCREEEEECHHH.

Kimberley’s head slammed forward, pulling her from her thoughts with a violent force.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam yelled, as he just missed the tail end of a deer hopping off into the tall grass.

Kimberley could smell burned rubber as the Ford Bronco had come to an immediate halt. Kimberley looked over at Sam, who still had his hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly.

“Sorry about that. I zoned out for a moment,” he said, looking over at her.

Kimberley’s heartbeat was just starting to come down. “Does that happen a lot around here?”

“Well, we do have a lot of wildlife. Probably never saw that in the city.”

“Can’t say I have. In the city you dodge pedestrians, but they don’t move like that,” Kimberley said with a small smile.

The same screeching noise was repeated again, this time punctuated with a sickening thud and the shattering of glass. Kimberley looked up just in time to see droplets of blood spraying into the air, clumps of fawn and white fur blowing in the wind, glass shards sprinkling the road like a fresh hail had just fallen, and chunks of plastic and metal strewn to the sides of the vehicle that had been coming from the other direction. The deer slid across the pavement, doing roll after roll until it came to a stop in the gravel side strip off the highway.

Immediately, Sam and Kimberley jumped out of the vehicle, running toward the black Ford