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Vienna fell silent. The other women avoided Stella’s gaze. She took another drink of her icy margarita. Morza, one of the Dobermans, rose and padded over to Stella to drop down beside her. He had always been her favorite of the three.

“Hey, baby. Are you missing Bailey too?” Stella continued to meet Vienna’s eyes. She was going somewhere with this. “I’m listening.”

“It was dark. You were running toward them. The attacker only had seconds and yet he got in four stab wounds, Stella. That would ensure that you would have to take Bailey down the mountain to the vet as quickly as possible in order to keep him from bleeding out. An ambulance would transport Sonny.”

Stella frowned. “I know all this, I was there, remember?”

“Honey,” Zahra said, gentle for her. “Think about how calm this attacker would have to be. How strong. How many men do you know like that?”

“How many men know anatomy?” Vienna persisted.

Stella shrugged. “Most of the men in this area hunt for meat to carry their families through the winter. They’re incredibly strong because they climb and they pack out their kills. They know anatomy because they cut up that meat and package it. You aren’t eliminating suspects.”

“Who do you know that could remain that calm during an attack by a ferocious dog weighing in at sixty-five pounds? Bailey’s all muscle. The attacker would have had to deliberately shove his arm into Bailey’s mouth and then stab him repeatedly knowing you were running toward them. He got Bailey down and calmly backed off, most likely watching you attending to your dog while the sheriff came to help. Who do you know who is that strong, and that absolutely cool under fire?”

She blinked. Her stomach dropped. Sam. They were talking about Sam. She looked at each of their faces. Vienna. Zahra. Shabina. Harlow. Raine. Raine was the only one who looked unconvinced. In fact, she looked as if the others were so far off base, she thought they were nuts. Clearly, she had argued against their reasoning.

Stella shook her head slowly. She didn’t understand how any of them could think the serial killer could possibly be Sam. He wasn’t like that. He might kill if he had to, but he wouldn’t kill indiscriminately. “The serial killer isn’t Sam. Don’t you think I would know? I’m sleeping with him, for heaven’s sake.”

No one said anything. Stella sighed and tried again. “For one thing, Vienna, he was with you on Whitney when the two climbers were thrown over the edge.”

“He wasn’t though. We split up.”

Stella glared at her, not because she thought Sam was guilty but because that had put Vienna in danger. “You promised the two of you would stick together. Do you have any idea how much danger you were in? You could have been killed.”

“I decided the killer was looking for a couple, not one single woman or one single man. We were in more danger together,” Vienna argued. “We had clearly missed the intended targets and didn’t know why, so we split up to cover more ground. In the end, it didn’t matter. We were too late. So, no, I wasn’t with him.”

“Nevertheless, Sam isn’t the serial killer. He was attacked first. Remember? I was there. I dove into the water. I saw someone in a diving suit trying to drown him. That diver hit me in the face and then kicked me in the chest. Do you think I’m making that up in order to protect him?”

She did her best to keep the belligerence out of her voice. She had to remind herself these were her friends and they had real concerns. They wanted her to be safe. From their perspective, Sam might be a logical choice. They didn’t know him the way she did. He could be intimidating at times, she could acknowledge that. There were all kinds of rumors about him. Even Denver, his closest friend, had warned her about him. Raine had told her to be cautious about the relationship.

“No one thinks you would lie to protect Sam, Stella,” Vienna said. “But the fact is, he could have had help. He could have set up that attack on himself easily. He barely had a scrape on his head. Certainly not enough to lose consciousness.”

“He told me he hadn’t lost consciousness,” Stella admitted. “It isn’t him. For one thing, he wouldn’t have to break into the house, he knows the code to get in, and someone tried to break in after the attack on Sonny. And I’d see bite marks on his body from Bailey. I do actually see him naked. More than any of that, I know him. It isn’t him.”

“You’d better be certain, Stella,” Harlow said. “People you love can be monsters.”

“My father is a serial killer, Harlow,” Stella pointed out quietly. “I think I know very well how people we love can be monsters. I also know that killers can have sudden episodes of enormous strength. I know that the hunters in this area are strong. They know anatomy. Climbers are strong and they are very calm in moments of extreme crisis. We have many climbers in the area that are hunters as well. I can tell you positively, without reservation, the serial killer isn’t Sam.”


Tags: Christine Feehan Suspense