Dead Calm (A Dylan Scott Mystery) - Plot & Excerpts
He could feel it in the blood pumping through his veins. There was no one outside at the moment, despite the clear night. The air was still, the sky dark and pinpointed with millions of stars. He breathed in deeply, the sharp cold air stinging the back of his throat. Two teenagers came outside, nodded at him and walked across to the smoking area. Smokers were creatures of habit. On the hour, they left what they were doing and ventured outside, turning their backs to the wind as they sucked smoke into their lungs. Inside, a cigarette might take them five minutes to smoke. Outside, it took less than two. Half of them, having craved a cigarette for an hour, would light up and decide they weren’t that desperate for nicotine after all. He’d smoked from the age of twelve so he knew how it was. Not that he was hooked. He could take it or leave it. A woman came outside, already hunting in a large bag for tobacco and lighter. “Will we see the northern lights tonight, do you think?” “Who knows?”
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