A Kate Page novel

An anguished mother loses her baby in a deadly storm…

A kind stranger helps Jenna Cooper protect her baby boy when a killer tornado rips through a Dallas flea market. But in the aftermath, Jenna can’t find her son or the woman who’d been holding him.

A journalist under pressure breaks the story…

Upon discovering the tragedy, reporter and single mom Kate Page, battling for her career and trying to hold her life together, vows to determine what happened to tiny Caleb Cooper.

A vortex of life-and-death forces

As the FBI launches an investigation amid the devastation, Kate uncovers troubling clues to the trail of the woman last seen with the baby—clues that reveal a plot more sinister than anybody had imagined. Against mounting odds, Kate risks everything in the race to find the truth…before it’s too late.

Praise for the novels of Rick Mofina

INTO THE DARK

“This is a one-day read (most likely a two-to-four-hour read,

depending on how fast your eyes can soak all this in),

but with the exciting plot and a conclusion that is a true surprise

to one and all, this is one book that has to be seen ASAP.”

—Suspense Magazine

THEY DISAPPEARED

“Mofina is one of the best thriller writers in the business.”

—Library Journal (starred review)

THE BURNING EDGE

“Rick Mofina’s tense, taut writing makes every thriller he writes

an adrenaline-packed ride.”

—Tess Gerritsen, New York Times bestselling author

IN DESPERATION

“A blisteringly paced story that cuts to the bone.

It left me ripping through pages deep into the night.”

—James Rollins, New York Times bestselling author

THE PANIC ZONE

“Taut pacing, rough action and jagged dialogue feed a relentless pace.

The Panic Zone is written with sizzling intent.”

—Hamilton Spectator

VENGEANCE ROAD

“Vengeance Road is a thriller with no speed limit! It’s a great read!”

—Michael Connelly, New York Times bestselling author

SIX SECONDS

“Six Seconds should be Rick Mofina’s breakout thriller.

It moves like a tornado.”

—James Patterson, New York Times bestselling author

Also from Rick Mofina and Harlequin MIRA

INTO THE DARK

THEY DISAPPEARED

THE BURNING EDGE

IN DESPERATION

THE PANIC ZONE

VENGEANCE ROAD

SIX SECONDS

And watch for Rick Mofina’s next Kate Page thriller,

coming soon from Harlequin MIRA!

Other books by Rick Mofina

A PERFECT GRAVE

EVERY FEAR

THE DYING HOUR

BE MINE

NO WAY BACK

BLOOD OF OTHERS

COLD FEAR

IF ANGELS FALL

Whirlwind

Rick Mofina

www.mirabooks.co.uk

To the memory of John Gradon

The clouds poured out water; The skies sent out a sound; Your arrows also flashed about. The voice of Your thunder was in the whirlwind;

The lightnings lit up the world; The earth trembled and shook.

—Psalms 77:17–18

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

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

1

Wildhorse Heights, Texas

Death was near but Jenna Cooper was not aware.

No one was.

Like the thousands of other people at the Old Southern Glory Flea Market, in the southeastern part of the Dallas– Fort Worth Metroplex, she was hunting for bargains.

Jenna liked coming here. With more than nine hundred vendors in buildings and open-air sections spread over forty acres at the Hawn and LBJ freeways, Old Southern was one of the biggest flea markets in Texas.

Whatever Jenna needed, she could always find a deal on it.

“Can I make you an offer on these?”

Jenna touched the folded baby clothes she’d selected and piled on the vendor’s table. The fleece hoodie, the footed pajamas, a romper, T-shirts, bibs, the lace tops and the skorts, which were so cute.

The vendor was wearing a Cowboys ball cap, rose-tinted sunglasses and a T-shirt that read: Verna’s Clothes for Kids. Jenna guessed her to be in her late sixties.

“What’s your offer, dear?”

Jenna figured the clothes would cost fifty to sixty dollars if she were to buy them new. But the items, as tagged on the table, would run about thirty-five dollars. She was not very good at negotiating, but these days she had no choice. For her, Blake and the kids, money was an issue.

“Would you take twenty-five for all of them?”

The woman took stock of Jenna’s daughter, who was holding on to the stroller where her baby brother was waking up from a nap.

“How old are your little ones?” she asked, weighing Jenna’s offer.

“Cassie’s four, almost five, and her baby brother Caleb’s five months.”

“I bet they’re a handful.”

“They are.”

“All right, dear, for you and your angels, twenty-five.”

“Thank you.” Jenna handed her the cash from her wallet.

While the vendor rummaged under the table for a bag, the old transistor radio hanging from her wooden sign that also read Verna’s Clothes for Kids, crackled faintly with an updated weather report.

But few people were listening about the possible tornado watch.

The sky was overcast with flashes of lightning on the horizon. It was hot and humid. Jenna pressed the back of her hand to her moist forehead then checked on Caleb. He was going to be hungry and she’d have to find a place to feed him. She gave Cassie a sip of bottled water, intending to finish shopping and get home before it rained.

“Your little girl’s beautiful.”

Jenna’s attention shifted to the end of the table, where another woman had stopped browsing to pay her the compliment. She was about Jenna’s age, mid-twenties, with short spiky red hair and a nice smile.

“Thank you,” Jenna said.

“And—” the stranger nodded to the stroller “—I overheard, your baby boy’s five months old?”

“Yes.” Jenna beamed.

“May I?” The woman stepped closer, lowering herself to Caleb’s stroller. “Oh, he’s brand-new! What a sweetheart!”

“Here’s your bag,” the vendor said to Jenna.

“Thanks.” She reached out for it.

“Who does he take after?” The stranger stood.

“His dad. He’s got his father’s eyes.”

For the first time, Jenna noticed a man at the other end of the table. He seemed about the same age as the woman and by the way he was watching, appeared to be with her.

“You’re so blessed. They’re beautiful children,” the woman said.

“Thank you.” Jenna stowed the clothes in the stroller’s basket.

That woman was right, Jenna thought, while making her way through the bustling market. Jenna was blessed, but this past year had been hard for her family. A week after she’d learned that she was pregnant, Blake was laid off from his ground-crew job at DFW International Airport. As weeks and months passed, Blake took any work he could find. He’d come home, hands callused from a long day on a construction site, or he’d fall asleep in front of the TV after a day making dozens of deliveries as a courier. But that was all low-paying, temporary work.

Blake couldn’t find a good, steady job.

Jenna was a part-time teller and worked as many hours as she could before she was due. They were burning through the little savings they had, and she feared they would lose their home, right up until six weeks ago. That’s when Blake was hired by American Journey Movers. It was full-time, and luckily there were health benefits, which helped when she had Caleb.

The downside was that Blake was always on the road. He started in Florida one week then was in Minnesota the next. Thankfully, Jenna’s sister, Holly, came in from Atlanta for two weeks when Caleb was born, because the day after Jenna brought him home from the hospital, Blake was on the road again to Kentucky and Virginia.

Now he was in Alaska.

Jenna missed him.

“You’ll tough it out, Jen,” Blake would tell her. “You’re not a quitter. We’ll get through this. Look at all we’ve faced so far.”

He was right, and she was grateful. Things were turning around for them. She had a healthy baby boy and a beautiful daughter. Blake had found a good job. It was true, she was blessed. They’d kept their house and were clearing their debts.

To help with their finances, Jenna was trying to get a data-processing job that would let her do extra work at home. She was also careful with money, never spending beyond their budget. That’s why she had buckled Cassie and Caleb into the family’s ten-year-old Ford Focus and come here.

But before heading out this morning, she’d hesitated. The forecast had called for a slight risk of severe weather later this afternoon. Standing in her driveway, she thought the sky looked fine, and she planned to be home by early afternoon. Besides, she needed to get some things now, and this was the best time for her to go.

They’d had good luck so far, Jenna thought, as she maneuvered through the crowded market lanes. Along with the baby clothes, she’d bought towels and bedsheets for a steal. They had factory flaws that weren’t even noticeable. Now she needed a desk lamp. She’d spotted one priced at two dollars. The same one in the store was going for fifteen.

Caleb was starting to fuss. Jenna needed to feed him but wanted to get the lamp first. She was trying to recall the row where the lamp was when she felt the first raindrop.

Then a wind kicked up some papers and dirt. Vendors began throwing tarps and plastic sheets over their wares, others unrolled canvas walls. Jenna unfolded the canopy on Caleb’s stroller, got Cassie into her rain jacket and opened her umbrella just as the downpour started.

Hunched against the rain they hurried to take cover under the tent roof of a large picnic area. They crammed in with other shoppers just as hail in golf-ball-sized chunks smashed into the ground, pelting the roof with such ferocity Jenna feared it would tear through.

“Mommy I’m scared!” Cassie slid her arms around her.

Jenna pulled her closer and tightened her grip on her stroller. She bit her lip watching the storm and lightning, regretting not leaving earlier.

“Mommy, I want to go home!”

“Me, too, honey. It’ll stop soon. Then we’ll get you a cookie, I’ll feed Caleb and we’ll go home, okay?”

Jenna felt Cassie’s little face nodding against her as the hail relented.

“What! Baby, I can’t hear you!”

Jenna’s head snapped to a man in the gathered crowd with his cell phone pressed to his ear. “Baby!”

Others under the canopy turned to a woman as she said, “For real?” into her cell phone.

“Baby.” The man was staring helplessly at the sky, then at his phone. “I can’t hear you!” Then to the rest of the group he said, “My wife’s east of Lancaster. She said a tornado hit, then her phone died.” He flipped up his hood. “I gotta find her. Y’all better take cover!”

As if on cue, a siren wailed. Jenna knew that sound. The city had about a hundred warning sirens throughout Dallas and tested them once a month.

Only this one was not a test.

The steady signal was an alert to seek immediate shelter.

“Mommy!”

Jenna was transfixed.

A massive wall of black cloud in the shape of a wedge had suddenly risen in the west where the sky had turned an otherworldly shade of green. All the saliva in Jenna’s mouth suddenly evaporated as she fought to contain the wave of panic rising in her gut.

“My God!” an old man said, adjusting his glasses as he pointed to the sky. “That’s a school bus spinning up there, hundreds of feet in the air!”

Crushing Cassie to her, Jenna whispered a prayer.

2

Wildhorse Heights, Texas

Jenna’s heart was racing.

Numbed by disbelief, she stared through the rain at the towering wall of black cloud swirling toward the market.

Vendors were scrambling to protect their goods; people hurried in all directions. The siren’s cry underscored the panic vibrating among those huddled under the tent; some ran off to the nearest building. Horns blared.

Beyond the rows of tables, Jenna saw the cars gridlocked in a futile struggle to leave. She calculated her chances of getting her children to their car in the distant parking lot before the storm hit.

We won’t make it in time.

“Mommy!” Cassie covered her ears with her hands. “I want to go, Mommy! I’m scared!”

Caleb was crying.

We have to find a safe place, now!

The nearest building was their best hope. She’d keep Caleb in his stroller; that way she could move faster with the kids. Quickly, she tightened the straps holding him, then she hoisted Cassie onto her hip, carrying her with one arm while steering Caleb’s stroller with her free hand.

As they headed into the rain, the tent canopy blew away behind them.

“Hang on to me, Cassie!”

Jenna bent against the wind, determined to make it to the building some forty yards off. She saw the scores of people clogging the entrance and prayed that she could get her children inside.

There’s no turning back, nowhere else to go.

Items from the market started shooting through the air around them, a lawn chair, a bookcase and a folding table, ricocheting off the ground, trees and structures.

Above the siren and all the noise Jenna heard a scream, turned and saw an older man knocked down by a flying piece of lumber. People who’d stopped to help him were suddenly in the path of a large Dumpster, tumbling at top speed before it hit them like they were bowling pins.

Jenna agonized over stopping to help when Caleb’s stroller began shaking and lifting slightly as gusts tried to wrench him from her grip. She fought to hold on to Caleb and Cassie and kept moving to the building, praying with each yard she covered until she made it to the entrance where she joined the others inching their way inside.

“Please hurry, please!” Jenna pleaded over the rushing winds.

Known as the Saddle Up Center, the large square building had been constructed decades ago in a pole barn design with a concrete floor, wooden frame, metal walls and a metal roof. It housed rows of vendors’ tables displaying clothes, furniture and collectables. Hundreds of worried shoppers were jamming into it.

Foreboding filled the air. The warning siren was accompanied by the furious, staccato bombardment of debris striking the walls and roof. The building shook as if under artillery attack.

People with working cell phones shouted out reports.

“A lot of injuries in Lancaster!”

“Transformers are blowing, fires everywhere!”

“A tornado is heading this way!”

There was a loud bang; a streetlight pierced the roof, its large arm swaying perilously above the crowd.

The center’s lights began flickering as debris hammered the building and the wind howled.

“She ain’t gonna hold much longer!” a man shouted.

As Caleb cried, Jenna stared at the roof. The wooden trusses supporting the roof began bending and cracking. She craned her neck, searching for someplace, anyplace, to go.

“Mommy!” Cassie was sobbing.

She was heavy in Jenna’s arm and she had to put her down.

“Mommy, please, no! I’m scared. Hold me!”

“Sweetie, we have to find someplace safe.”

Jenna’s heart was pounding as she looked for a stairway to a basement, a cellar, a grandstand, anything to protect her children.

There was nothing.

Oh God, please help us!

The roof began shifting. A steel trash drum punctured it like a bullet, smashing into a vendor’s stall. Then a small car with terrified people inside hurled through the top of one wall, crashing down onto the sea of helpless shoppers. People screamed while others tried to lift it from the victims.

The building’s walls began to ripple from the pulverizing wind. Jenna’s breathing quickened, the blood rush in her ears keeping time with her heart. She got down on her knees and pulled Cassie and Caleb’s stroller closer to her.

We’re not going to die here.

Someone grabbed her shoulder.

“This way!” a woman shouted into her ear. “Come with me! It’s safer this way!”

Jenna recognized the red-haired woman she’d met earlier, who’d fussed over Caleb.

“You look like you need a hand! Let me take him for you—we need to cut across the floor!”

Jenna had no time to think. She let the woman take control of Caleb’s stroller. Jenna carried Cassie while the man accompanying the woman cleared the way for them. Her pulse galloping, Jenna still savored a degree of relief.

Amid the noise and confusion they found a corner where four huge concrete planters were stored against a wall. Keep us safe here! Please keep us safe! The planters were about three feet tall and three feet square with a narrow gap between them that no one was using.

The roar grew so intense Jenna felt vibrations in her rib cage as the earth began trembling.

The woman pushed Caleb’s stroller into the gap between the planters; Jenna followed, holding Cassie. They hunkered down as chunks of wood began raining from the roof.

Adrenaline pumping, Jenna’s body quaked and she begged Heaven to keep her family safe.

As the man tried to pull a canvas over them, Jenna saw the winds suck the doors from the building, then some people.

The roof began twisting as trusses gave way and large beams fell on helpless people. Chunks of the building’s wall started ripping away, then the roof was gone, people vanished up into black swirling clouds. Metal, wood and debris rained down on Jenna and the others.

Tears streamed down Jenna’s face.

Please help us! Keep my children safe! Don’t let us die!

The heavy planters began shifting.

During horrible chaos Jenna held Cassie tight and held the stroller’s frame as the wind tried to tear it away. The kind stranger was holding on, too.

Lord, please help me!

The last thing Jenna remembered was hanging on to her children and praying before something struck her head. She saw stars before everything went black.

* * *

Jenna Cooper was floating.

She was adrift under a brilliant sun as diamond waves of warm water lapped on a white-sand beach. Blake was beside her, Caleb was napping between them, shaded by their towels. Cassie was making sand castles.

Totally content, Jenna watched the gulls gliding above them, circling, shrieking, inviting her...

...the shrieking...pulling her up from the beach...taking her higher, farther and farther from Blake and the children...no...she can’t leave them...the shrieking...no...she’s not ready to leave them...she’s rising faster...this can’t be happening...

Jenna’s eyes flicked open, squinting and adjusting to shafts of light piercing the latticework above. Where am I? A million muddled thoughts streaked across her mind as she blazed through an inventory of sensations. She was on her back. She wiggled her toes, her fingers, took a deep breath. No discomfort. Where’s Blake, the children? She thought she heard the clamor of radios in the distance. She coughed, twisted grit from her eyes, feeling warmth next to her and a familiar snuggle.

“Mommy!”

“Cassie!” Jenna moved to check her in the weak light. Cassie had cuts on her little cheeks. “Are you hurt, sweetie? Are you okay?”

“I think so. You got a big ouchy on your head.”

Jenna felt some swelling on her forehead and touched her fingers just at the hairline. It was tender, sticky and her fingertips glistened with blood.

“I guess I got a little bump, honey.”

Cassie’s chin crumpled and she cried. “I’m scared. What happened, Mommy?”

Images flashed before Jenna: The market, the storm, seeking shelter, a red-haired woman helping with Caleb, taking cover by the planters, everything going dark, the building breaking apart, Jenna’s hand holding the stroller.

Now her hand was empty.

She searched the area around her.

Where’s my baby?

“Caleb?” she said. Then, the scream ripped from her throat: “Caleb!”

3

Dallas, Texas

In the hour before the storm, Kate Page, an intern reporter at the Dallas bureau of the global news service, Newslead, was at her desk on the phone.

She’d taken a cold call from Cody Warren, a sixteen-year-old high school student whose father had been killed last week in a hit-and-run case just south of Dallas.

“Can you help us find my dad’s killer, please, ma’am?”

Kate adjusted her grip on her handset as he continued.

“We got to get the word out. Police say they have no leads, nothing.” Cody’s voice broke. “We buried him yesterday.”

Over the years, Kate had kept an emotional distance from the people she’d faced while reporting on tragedies. But she never lost her compassion and her heart went out to this teenager who’d been calling every newsroom in Dallas–Fort Worth.

He deserved kindness and the truth.

“Cody, I am so sorry for what’s happened. You have my condolences.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I can’t guarantee that we’ll do a story, but I give you my word I’ll look into it, okay?”

There was a pause.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay, thank you, ma’am.”

After hanging up, Kate took a moment then took a breath. Her attention shifted briefly when the chatter of the bureau’s emergency radio scanners blared from across the floor where Tommy Koop, a news assistant, was monitoring the stream of coded transmissions.

Kate thought she’d heard the word, tornadoes, until Tommy lowered the volume, and she guessed it was just a spurt of firefighter cross talk about weather forecasts.