CHAPTER ONE

Lilly was awakened by the sound of sleet pellets striking the tin roof.

Go-rounds with Dutch always had left her exhausted. The tense encounters they’d had during the past week while she was in Cleary to finalize the sale of the cabin must have taken more of a toll on her than even she had realized. After the last one, her body had kindly shut down her mind for a while and allowed her to sleep.

She sat up, rubbing her arms against the chill. The cabin bedroom had grown dark, too dark even for her to read her wristwatch. She got up, went to the window, and pulled back the edge of the drapery. It let in very little light but enough for her to see her watch.

The time surprised her. She’d slept deeply and dreamlessly, but, actually, not that long. As dark as it was, she had expected it to be much later. The low clouds enwrapping the mountaintop had created a premature and eerie darkness.

The ground was now covered with an opaque layer of sleet. It continued to fall, intermingled with freezing rain and what meteorologists called snow grains, tiny chips that looked more menacing than their lacy cousins. Tree branches were already encased in tubes of ice which were growing discernibly thicker. A strong wind buffeted the window panes.

It had been careless of her to fall asleep. That mistake was going to cost her a harrowing trip down the mountain road. Even after reaching Cleary, weather would probably factor into her long drive back to Atlanta. Having dispatched her business here, she was anxious to get home, return to her routine, get on with her life. Her office would be a bog of backed-up paperwork, Email, and projects, all demanding her immediate attention. But rather than dreading her return, she looked forward to tackling the tasks waiting on her.

Besides being homesick for her work, she was ready to leave Dutch’s hometown. She adored Cleary’s ambiance and the beautiful, mountainous terrain surrounding it. But the people here had known Dutch and his family for generations. As long as she was his wife, she’d been warmly received and accepted. Now that she had divorced him, townsfolk had turned noticeably cool toward her.

Considering how hostile he’d been when he left the cabin, it was past time for her to leave his territory.

Acting hastily, she carried her suitcase into the front room and set it beside the door. Then she gave the cabin one final, rapid inspection, checking to see that everything had been turned off and that nothing belonging to her or Dutch had been overlooked.

Satisfied that everything was in order, she put on her coat and gloves and opened the front door. The wind struck her with a force that stole her breath. As soon as she stepped onto the porch, ice pellets stung her face. She needed to shield her eyes against them, but it was too dark to put on sunglasses. Squinting against the sleet, she carried her suitcase to the car and placed it in the back seat.

Back inside the cabin, she quickly used her inhaler. Breathing cold air could bring on an asthma attack. The inhaler would help prevent that. Then, taking no time for even one last, nostalgic look around, she pulled the door closed and locked the dead bolt with her key.

The interior of her car was as cold as a refrigerator. She started the motor but had to wait for the defroster to warm before she could go anywhere; the windshield was completely iced over. Pulling her coat more closely around her, she buried her nose and mouth in the collar and concentrated on breathing evenly. Her teeth were chattering, and she couldn’t control her shivers.

Finally the air from the car’s defroster became warm enough to melt the ice on the windshield into a slush, which her windshield wipers were able to sweep away. They couldn’t, however, keep up with the volume of freezing precipitation. Her visibility was sorely limited, but it wasn’t going to improve until she reached lower elevations. She had no choice but to start down the winding Mountain Laurel Road.

It was familiar to her, but she’d never driven it when it was icy. She leaned forward beyond the steering wheel, peering through the frosted windshield, straining to see beyond the hood ornament. On the switchbacks, she hugged the right shoulder and rocky embankment, knowing that on the opposite side of the road were steep drop-offs.

She caught herself holding her breath through the hairpin curves. Inside her gloves, her fingertips were so cold they were numb, but her palms were sweaty as she gripped the steering wheel. Tension made the muscles of her shoulders and neck burn. Her anxious breathing grew more uneven. Hoping to improve her visibility, she rubbed her coat sleeve across the windshield, but all that accomplished was to give her a clearer view of the dizzy swirl of sleet. That’s all she could see. And then suddenly, a human figure leaped from the wooded embankment onto the road directly in her path.

Reflexively she stamped on her brake pedal, remembering too late that braking abruptly was the wrong thing to do on an icy road. The car went into a skid. The figure in her headlights jumped back, trying to get out of the way. Wheels locked, the car slid past him, the back end fish-tailing wildly.

Lilly felt a bump against her rear fender. With a sinking sensation in her stomach, she realized he’d been struck. That was her last sickening thought before the car crashed into a tree.

“Lust, jealousy and murder suffuse Brown’s crisp thriller…” —Publishers Weekly

“The compelling characters, sexual tension and stunning plot twists combine to create a page turner that will keep readers guessing until the end.” —The Sunday Oklahoman

“CHILL FACTOR is a great read anytime, but especially when the temperatures are soaring into triple digits.” —Bookreporter.com

“…Brown has done a skillful job in blending two genres…” —The San Diego Union Tribune

“The suspense builds as Brown’s novel chugs toward a gripping, surprising conclusion.” —Booklist

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