Jasper Mystery [Kindle Edition]

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Could she have fallen asleep? Someone seemed to be strolling along the street at dusk. The person was getting closer to Fern’s car. It looked like a lady wearing an unusual costume. The dress was three-quarters length and revealed her shapely ankles. It was brushing against her shawl as she strutted past. When she was almost upon them, Opal could make out a distinct rustling sound. There was the clip-clop, clip-clop of heels.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Opal glanced out the window. The lady turned as she passed the car. Their eyes met. Opal was aghast. She felt like gagging.

Right beside where they were parked stood a streetlight. The garishly yellow overhead bulbs illuminated the face of the passerby. She looked for all the world just like the portrait on the wall in Opal’s nightmares. She flaunted the same peculiar red shade of hair, red with all sorts of subtle and not so subtle shadows and tints. Her figure resembled a neat, vase-like shape --- a slim and well-rounded bosom, narrowing to a perfect waist, and then slim and equally well-rounded, svelte hips.

Suddenly the wind started to blow. The cottonwood branches swayed overhead. The whole trunk bent low. The lady didn’t seem to be deterred. She strolled right under the tree while it was going through its wild gyrations.
Just as she reached it, the sky exploded in a burst of flame. The cottonwood tree seemed to catch fire. The lady’s fussy skirt with all sorts of lace and furbelows went up like a torch. It was hard to distinguish the waving tree branch covered with fiery leaves from the lady’s wildly blowing skirt. She seemed to disappear in the inferno. At least she didn’t walk out the other side of the tree.
Opal gaped in amazement at the scene in front of her. For just the moment before the lady’s face became no longer visible, the woman turned toward Opal. The last thing Opal thought she saw was the lady nodding and beckoning to her as if to follow. The lady no longer had the same face. Instead it looked like a mirror reflecting Opal’s own.

Then there was nothing except a solid wall of flames.