Whirlwind [antikvár]

CHAPTER ONE Failure drove Liza Baron home. She went one cool summer night in a vintage Thun-derbird convertible, the last personal possession she still owned free and clear. She started out in a rage in Chicago about midnight and drove toward no particular destination at first It just felt good to go, with her hair whipping in the wind and the radio blasting rock and roll. But around four in the morning, after aunless driving along highways she'd never known existed, Liza found herself in Wisconsin just ten miles from Tyler. After that, it was like automatic pilot. In the dark, she drove the white car up to the lake and her grandfather's lodge, which she figured would be empty. Liza didn't want to see anybody. The last thing she needed was a damned heart-to-heart with some well-meaning family member. Or worst of all, h^ mother. Liza just wanted to be alone. The sky began to lighten as she turned into the lane marked by two brick columns and started up the hillside under the canopy of century-old trees, liie air was hushed. Magical, really. A dreamy white mist eddied upward from the lake and engulfed the car in a kind of swirling cloud. Someone who didn't know the road might have pltmged off into the trees or blundered into