Page List


Font:  

Stella forced air into her lungs. “It’s just that it’s Denver. He’s family. He’s practically an icon in the community.” She looked past Denver’s rig to the SUV parked in front of his. Her breath hissed out. “I should have known. Should have guessed.” Maybe a small part of her had. “Jason Briggs. He’s the one who issued the warning to Shabina to stay out of the forest.” She looked at Sam’s expressionless mask. “Why? Was that supposed to cast suspicion on his friends? Or was he tempted to go after Shabina?”

“I don’t know, but we have to get moving. Let’s get the gear and start walking. We want to make certain we’re right behind them.”

“You’re right,” Stella agreed, taking another deep breath to calm herself. “I don’t want Denver on that rock before we get there. There can’t be any accidents, especially as we walk up. He may change his plan midstream, like he did out at the lake because we interrupted him. We have to have a natural way to keep Denver safe.”

They hiked the distance fast, the climbing gear in their backpacks along with water bottles and food as if they planned to spend the day. Stella hoped they wouldn’t have to, but just in case, they were prepared to outlast the killer.

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining, throwing beams across the boulders as they approached. They heard the low laughter of the two men carried on the slight breeze. Sam moved slightly in front of her, his larger body partially blocking the two climbers’ vision of her as they turned to face them.

Jason’s smile faded, a scowl marring his good looks as he put his hands on his hips and turned fully to glare at them.

Denver’s smile widened in greeting. “Sam. Stella. What are you doing all the way out here? Don’t tell me Stella’s going to climb this thing?”

Stella couldn’t help herself, she launched herself into Denver’s arms. He caught her in a hug. “You’re going to brave this boulder?”

“It’s not a boulder,” she objected against his shoulder, not wanting to lift her head and look at Jason, afraid she’d shoot daggers at him.

“What are you doing here?” Jason demanded.

“Stella doesn’t like heights,” Sam said easily. “I’m going to belay her while she practices getting comfortable out here where no one is around. What are you doing here?”

Sam sounded cheery. Easygoing. As if nothing was wrong and he talked to serial killers every single day.

“I’ve been working on this project for months,” Jason admitted. “I’ve been telling Denver about it and how slow it’s been going for a while now. He offered to come out with me and belay me today. It will be so much easier without having to use a top rope.”

Stella heard Jason as if from far away. She’d already taken a step away from Denver so she could look into Jason’s face. She wanted to see his expression when he answered Sam. She did her best to process Jason’s statement. To make it fit with the facts.

This couldn’t be his project. It had to be Denver’s project. Jason had to be the one to volunteer to belay Denver. None of this was making any sense. She looked up at the boulder and then again at Jason’s face. Then to Sam. As always, his features were set in an expressionless mask. No help there at all.

Had she heard right? Again, she tried to twist Jason’s statement around to fit with what she was certain were the facts, but no matter how many times she replayed the audio, it came out the same. This was Jason’s project and Denver had volunteered to belay him. Which meant …

She turned back to her beloved friend, heart sinking, lashes lifting, and her eyes met his.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Mommy, Daddy’s doing the bad thing again.

The camera lens focused on a dark room. The room appeared to be rectangular. Stella did her best within the narrow vision she had to take in as many details as she could, but it was dark. The only light came from what appeared to be a penlight that was being flashed around the room, and that was even shielded, as if the person holding the light feared it would be seen. She caught a quick glimpse of the edge of a crash pad. Just the tip, but she was certain it was a crash pad. The lens was already closing down. Just as it was, she saw the light flash across the pair of hiking boots in the corner. The lens snapped closed.

STELLA SAT UP, fighting her way out from under the covers, kicking at them, scissoring her legs in desperation to get blankets and sheets off, her breath coming in painful gasps. She leapt up, trying to get out from under the remnants of the nightmare, uncaring that she’d gone to bed in practically nothing and it was very cold this time of year. Sam was a furnace at night and he took any clothes off her anyway.


Tags: Christine Feehan Suspense