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“We’re going to get him this time, Sam. I just know it.”

He nodded. “You’ve got one more night. Whatever he plans to do, you’ll see tomorrow night. You always do. By that time, we’ll have the location. We’ll go out there and do some climbing ourselves. It will be natural enough for you to want to climb. The days are beautiful and you really don’t like heights. It sounds like the perfect rock to practice on.”

A little shudder went through her as she reached down to unlock the safe. “He’s here tonight. I can feel him.”

“He is. Whatever prevented him from coming the last three nights is evidently over. Or he just took a break.”

Stella looked at Bailey again. “I would prefer that you didn’t go out without me. I know you like to prowl around at night, but you’ve always had Bailey with you. He might have stabbed Bailey on purpose so you didn’t have him to alert you.”

She twisted her fingers together tightly in her lap, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She had no idea how she thought she’d get away with that, because Sam noticed everything. His gaze dropped to her linked fingers, and his hard features softened immediately.

“Woman.”

“Man.” She whispered the response automatically, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. His eyes had darkened. Heated.

“Do you remember what I did for a living before I came here?”

She shook her head slowly. “I’m not the kind of woman to pry. I never actually asked you. I know you’re not a ‘ghost.’ Other than that I only know you worked for the government and you were very good at what you did.”

His eyes got even darker and a whisper of a smile turned sexy. “You know what I did.”

“Okay, maybe I do know. Sort of.”

“I’m still alive for a reason, Stella. I walk out your door alone at night, that man watching will not be able to find me with or without his night-vision glasses. I can creep up on him. I know where his camp is. I told you it’s straight across the lake where the bend is. He’s cunning like an animal and he’ll run the minute he can’t find me, but he won’t be able to sneak up on me. I’m the wild card, Stella. He doesn’t know me. He can’t figure out who I am or where I came from. He can do all the research in the world and he won’t find records of me anywhere.”

She sighed. “I still don’t like it, Sam.”

The lines around his eyes crinkled. “That’s because you’re sweet, Stella. And fierce.”

“I can hit what I’m aiming at,” she pointed out. “When I shoot, Sam, I know what I’m doing, and I wouldn’t hesitate to protect you.” She wouldn’t.

“I’m well aware. And thankful. I wouldn’t want you to own a weapon you couldn’t use.”

“The point being, I should be of equal help to you. It shouldn’t just be you always looking out for me. I’m not a damsel-in-distress kind of woman.” She tried not to sound belligerent, but she wasn’t a woman who needed to be taken care of. She was self-sufficient. She’d turned the business around. She’d had the good sense to hire Sam, and over the last two years, she maybe had leaned on him a little more than she should have, but she could stand on her own two feet and, if necessary, take care of him and Bailey.

That shadow of a smile became a flash of his white teeth. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve always been a partnership, Stella. We look out for each other. This is a strange situation. If you recall, at the beginning of it, you were the one diving into a freezing lake to save me.”

That was true. There was some satisfaction in knowing she’d done that … except … “You did have your knife out and I think you might have managed to kill him right then if I hadn’t interfered,” she conceded.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I did actually hit my head. I wasn’t expecting a serial killer to drag me underwater. I was definitely disoriented. Tell me what else you found out tonight.”

“I could tell the two know each other very well. They’ve been friends a long time. That just makes the crime more hideous to me. I didn’t get the feeling from the serial killer that he had a personal grudge against his friend either. This feels more like a power trip. A kind of rush, like he’s doing it because he can. He’s smarter, so much more intelligent, and no one will ever figure it out. He believes he can stop whenever he wants to stop and then start again when he decides to play his game.”

Sam made a small sound that might have been a curse under his breath. “It’s a game to him? Does it feel that way to you, Stella? I know you’re able to get emotions from both the victim and the killer.”


Tags: Christine Feehan Suspense