Runaway Fate: Moonstone Cove Book One Read online

  A professor, a housewife, and a mechanic walk into a gym… and walk out as partners in a twist of fate they never saw coming!

  Runaway Fate

  Katherine wasn’t looking for anything extraordinary in her life. She had a job she loved, a husband she adored, and a home in the beautiful seaside town of Moonstone Cove.

  Okay yes, she worked too much and had fallen out of touch with all her friends, but that happened to everyone, right? And sure, she was feeling a little creaky in the mornings and couldn’t drink coffee after noon, but that was just life at middle age.

  Four minutes was all it took for fate to run away with anything that resembled normal.

  Now Katherine is trying to fit mysterious psychic visions into her previously ordered life. She’s playing referee between a displaced Southern mama and a sarcastic mechanic with a chip on her shoulder. And her quiet life has been upended by a mysterious rash of violent acts by students at her school.

  Thankfully, her new friends have powers of their own, and together they just might discover who or what has it in for the quiet citizens of Moonstone Cove.

  Runaway Fate is the first book in the hot new Paranormal Women’s Fiction series, Moonstone Cove, by USA Today best-selling author Elizabeth Hunter. It’s fiction for lovers of magic, mayhem, and a solid afternoon nap (when they can squeeze one in).

  Praise for Elizabeth Hunter

  Another PWF home run! For those that absolutely loved the Glimmer Lake series, get ready to dive into the perfect book for you. …there are so many surprises waiting for you in Moonstone Cove that will keep you burning through the pages well past bedtime.

  This Literary Life

  Elizabeth Hunter hits another home run with this first novel in Moonlight Cove series.

  Booknerd, Bookseller, and Bibliophile Blog

  You will find laughter, heartbreak, tears, heart-pounding moments and warmth in Hunter's latest novel, I cannot wait for readers to get their hands on it.

  Danielle, Goodreads Reviewer

  Runaway Fate

  Moonstone Cove Book One

  Elizabeth Hunter

  Runaway Fate

  Copyright © 2020

  Elizabeth Hunter

  ISBN: 978-1-941674-58-1

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Cover: Damonza

  Content Editor: Amy Cissell, Cissell Ink

  Line Editor: Anne Victory

  Proofreader: Linda, Victory Editing

  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, please delete it and purchase your own copy from an authorized retailer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Recurve Press LLC

  PO Box 4034

  Visalia, California 93278

  USA

  This book—and all Wine Wednesdays—

  Are dedicated to the Sisterhood of the First Miracle.

  I heart you all.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  First Look: Fate Actually

  About the Author

  Also by Elizabeth Hunter

  Chapter 1

  If Katherine Bassi could’ve predicted a time and place for her life to change irrevocably, it would not have been at the Blue Wave Gym on State Street at four forty-five on a Thursday afternoon.

  Katherine attended the gym because she enjoyed the yoga class there. But that didn’t start until five o’clock, so at four thirty, she hopped on one of the few available treadmills to warm her muscles up, walking on a machine going nowhere and staring at the bustling pedestrian traffic in downtown Moonstone Cove.

  It was a little town nestled in the heart of the Central California coast with pebbled beaches and crumbling cliffs dotted by wind-twisted cypresses. Moonstone Cove was a town famous for three things: abundant vegetables, an annual wine festival, and a small but excellent state university specializing in marine-biology research, which was where Katherine worked.

  As she increased the pace on her treadmill, Katherine focused on the steady stretch of her thighs and calves. Properly warmed muscles were a prerequisite to get the most out of her twice-weekly yoga class. The class was focused on flexibility and joint maintenance, two areas Katherine knew were vital for older women.

  She was forty-seven and in reasonably good health, which meant her knees ached, her legs twitched at night whether she wanted them to or not, and she’d slowly moved farther and farther back to focus on her monitor at work.

  Which was fine. As Katherine’s mother often said: “Aging can be unpleasant until you consider the alternative.”

  Katherine wasn’t really looking for change. She had a job she loved, and she’d been married for twenty years to a man she adored. She was the happy and indulgent aunt of four children her sister and in-laws were raising. She didn’t have many friends in Moonstone Cove—even after fifteen years—but she still loved her home. She had a house that overlooked the ocean, and she fell asleep to the sound of the waves every night.

  The only improvement she would make was her husband, Baxter’s, feelings about acquiring a dog. Nothing too large. Something medium-sized and fluffy. Katherine had never owned a dog, but the longer she lived in Moonstone Cove—which was undoubtedly a dog-friendly place—the more certain she was that her life would be improved by one.

  Baxter was unconvinced; she was working on him.

  As she pushed the buttons to increase her treadmill pace, she glanced around the gym.

  On her right was a young man wearing a Central Coast sweatshirt, his head down as he listened to music and jogged at a steady pace. On her left was a young woman in a Central Coast Volleyball T-shirt.

  The Blue Wave Gym gave a discount to students, faculty, and staff at Central Coast State, so the number of blue-and-green sweatshirts and T-shirts around the aerobic-machine room was noticeable, but plenty of local people from town were mixed in as well.

  In the row before her was a middle-aged blond woman in ruthlessly coordinated sportswear, sweating her heart out on an elliptical machine. There were professionals leaving work early and plenty of familiar faces even if Katherine didn’t know their names.

  Seeing people from outside the college was one of the reasons Katherine enjoyed coming to this gym. Since she and Baxter were both professors, it was nice to break out of her limited social circle.

  “Hey!”

  Katherine looked over her left shoulder.

  “You dropped your towel.” A freckled woman with a curly cap of short dark hair held a white towel out to her. Katherine had seen her before. She liked the rowing machines and regularly lifted weights.
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  “Thanks.” Katherine reached back and grabbed it, then folded it in thirds and placed it on the small bar below the control panel on the treadmill, all the while never slowing her pace. “Are you waiting for this machine?”

  The woman shrugged. “I’m good. I’ve got time.” Her eyes seemed focused farther down the row of equipment.

  Katherine glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m just warming up before the five-o’clock yoga class. I’ll be done in a few minutes.” It was 4:40, and she would need at least ten minutes to walk to the yoga classroom and set up. Katherine hated being late for anything but especially classes. She slowed her treadmill to cool down.

  “I can wait.” The woman’s eyes swept around the gym before coming back to rest again on whatever she had seen down the row. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t move from her spot near the wall.

  Katherine returned to the closed-captioned television that was broadcasting the local news. There was something about the classic-car show on Beach Street that weekend. The weather forecast jumped onto the screen. Seventy-five and sunny on Friday. Seventy-three. Seventy-six. Yep, pretty much perfect all week. When you lived on California’s Central Coast, you didn’t get to complain about the weather.

  At 4:44, she stopped the treadmill and grabbed her towel. She dabbed her forehead and looked for the dark-haired woman to point out the machine, but she was already on a different treadmill.

  Gymgoers were shuffling locations as some left for the day and others switched routines. Katherine saw the color-coordinated blond woman heading toward the hallway where the yoga classroom was located and wondered if she was a new attendee.

  Katherine walked toward the aisle, passing another college-aged man running fast on a treadmill. Unlike the people around him, he was running at full speed. A blue-and-green hoodie covered his head, and something familiar about him made Katherine pause at the back of his machine.

  It came to her in a flash.

  The world around her washed into shades of grey as Katherine saw the man stop and pull a black handgun from under his sweatshirt. It was black and had an odd bar sticking out from the handle. Everything around her moved in slow motion as the young man raised the gun and started firing across the gym.

  The sound of screaming was sharp in her ears.

  Once, twice, the gun fired again and again. He didn’t stop. The world around her seemed watery and out of focus, but she heard people screaming. Glass shattered. More screaming.

  She blinked and her ears popped. The world around her came back into focus and vivid color. No one was screaming. The gym was filled with the familiar sounds of treadmills and pumping workout music. The clock on the wall read four forty-five.

  Katherine was frozen at the base of the young man’s treadmill when she saw it start to happen.

  He braced his feet on either side of the treadmill, unzipped his blue-and-green sweatshirt, and reached toward his waistband.

  This isn’t a daydream.

  “Gun!” Katherine screamed and dived for the man, knocking him off-balance. He toppled back and fell on her. The spinning track shot them off the rear of the treadmill and into the next row of machines. “He has a gun!”

  The world compressed around her. She was struggling with the man, but he was so much stronger. Where was the gun? She saw it in his hand and reached for it.

  He elbowed Katherine in the temple and rolled away, trying to lift the firearm and take aim. She felt something cold and hard strike her temple.

  “No!” The blond woman stood over them, her face red and angry. She reached her hand out, and the gun jumped into her palm.

  Katherine blinked.

  Sounds of chaos filled the gym as people ran and yelled. Someone shouted, “Police!” Throughout the chaos, the sounds of loud electronic music filled the air.

  The young man elbowed Katherine again, snapping her head to the side. She saw stars and rolled into the still-spinning treadmill as the man scrambled toward the blond woman who had his gun. He was on his knees when the compact, dark-haired woman leaped over two treadmills and jumped on the attacker, forcing him back to the ground with a thud and a solid punch to the jaw.

  “Stay down!” She looked to be about a third of the size of the guy, but the woman grabbed his shoulders, forced him to the floor, and yelled into his face. “Calm down! Stay down!”

  As if by magic, the man’s body went limp and he relaxed completely.

  The blond woman was holding the gun on him, but her hands weren’t even shaking. She glanced at Katherine. “Ma’am, you doing all right?” She spoke with a pronounced Southern accent. “He hit you pretty hard. Think you might be bleeding on your forehead a little.”

  The dark-haired woman glanced at the woman with the gun. “You a cop?”

  “No.” The blond woman laughed a little. “Just grew up with a lot of good ol’ boys. You doin’ okay?”

  “I’m good.” The dark-haired woman didn’t move off the man. “Please tell me someone is calling the police.”

  Katherine rolled up to sit and propped herself against the front of a stair-climbing machine. “I’m okay.” She watched their attacker lying completely still under the small woman. “I think I’m okay.”

  Almost everyone in the gym had fled and most were milling around outside on State Street. Katherine could see them through the windows.

  A man in a bright blue shirt ran over to them. “We called 911.” His muscles bulged from beneath his shirt, and the word Trainer was emblazoned on the front. “What can I do? Do you want me to hold him, Toni? How can I help?”

  The blond woman didn’t move an inch, and the dark-haired woman the man had called Toni didn’t budge.

  “I think we’ll just stay exactly right where we are until the cops come.” Toni kept her hands pushed into the man’s shoulders, but the young man who’d wrestled so fiercely with Katherine had gone limp. He showed not a hint of resistance.

  The trainer looked at the woman with the gun. “Uh… miss?”

  “It’s Megan, sweetie. Megan Carpenter. I’m good here,” the blond woman said. “I’m new at the gym, but I’m fine with guns and I can wait with these nice ladies for the cops.” She glanced down. “This is a real fancy extended magazine, young man. I don’t think this model is legal in California.”

  The young trainer was running his hands through his curly brown hair. “Oh my God. Holy shit. Patrick and Jan are gonna kill me.”

  Katherine cleared her throat. “If you’re talking about the owners, I doubt you’re going to get in trouble. No one could have predicted this.”

  Except Katherine had.

  She had seen the man pull the gun from his sweatshirt. She’d seen him raise it and shoot people. She’d heard screams and glass shattering.

  But it hadn’t happened yet.

  Katherine glanced at the clock. It was 4:49. In four minutes, everything about her life had changed.

  She looked at the two women, Megan and Toni. All three of them were exchanging nervous glances and trying to pretend not to notice the others’ scrutiny. Katherine had never seen either of the women before that day, but she could read the question on both their faces.

  What on earth just happened?

  Chapter 2

  Baxter gave Katherine his best stern face. “Tea.”

  “Coffee.”

  “Darling, this is not the time for your typical morning brew. You’ve been through a shocking experience. The last thing you need is caffeine.”

  “Tea has caffeine.”

  She was being contrary. She knew her husband was right, but it was so rare for Professor Baxter Pang, tenured professor of mathematics and cochair of the department, to be bossy that Katherine was almost enjoying it.

  Baxter lectured her in an elegant Hong Kong accent that had remained crisp through decades of living in the United States. “Darjeeling has approximately fifty milligrams of caffeine as opposed to the typical stew-like mixture you make in your french press, which easily contains
three times as much.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tea.”

  He would have looked more intimidating if his dark hair weren’t in need of a trim and sticking up at odd angles at the crown.

  But the accent… The accent still worked.

  “Fine.” She sighed. “Tea.”

  “Excellent.”

  One of the benefits of being married to the same man for twenty years was that he knew exactly how you took your tea even if it wasn’t your drink of choice. As Baxter fussed over the kettle, Katherine tried to plan her day.

  She’d arrived home to find an extremely distracted husband with a mobile phone stuck to his ear. The news of the shooting had been everywhere, even penetrating her husband’s mental bubble.

  Every teaching assistant Baxter’d ever had would tell their friends that though Professor Pang was unfailingly polite, he lived in a world of his own making, filled with theoretical mathematics and cross-continental chess games with his younger brother in London. He might smile and nod if you told him something related to current events or pop culture, but he likely had no idea what you were talking about. He enjoyed jogging along the boardwalk near their house and playing racquetball with a few of his colleagues once or twice a week.

  It wasn’t that Baxter set out to be uninformed, it was simply that current events were rarely more interesting to him than mathematics.