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Stella was reluctant to show her in front of Sam. She found herself putting her coffee down on the ground and nearly shoving her knuckles in her mouth the way that five-year-old child had done so long ago, as if reminding herself not to talk. That was one of those habits she had worked hard to overcome, and now a few nightmares and she was right back to having to fight those old hated patterns.

She pulled up her sweater. “There’s really nothing to show. He just kicked me hard enough to get me away from him so he could swim away from us. He clearly wasn’t going to be able to drown Sam, and with two of us there, he must have decided to get away fast.”

Again, Harlow probed along Stella’s ribs and along her stomach and then under her breasts, where she’d taken the brunt of his feet connecting. She did her best not to react when Harlow found the exact place of impact.

“Underwater he couldn’t really hurt me with a double kick like that,” Stella reaffirmed. “I’m sure it was more to shove me away than anything else.” She dropped her sweater back in place.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t just use a spear or a weapon like that,” Harlow said. “He really put himself at risk. Now most of the county is on alert. You know just about everyone carries a gun. The warning went out on Facebook to fishermen. It won’t stop anyone from fishing, in fact the lake will be packed tomorrow, both with boats and with men and women fishing around the lake. All of them will be packing.”

Stella sighed. “I know.” She certainly carried a gun. She had since she’d been old enough to learn how to shoot. She’d never stopped practicing. The images of the terrible things her father and the other serial killer had done to their victims had been burned into her mind. No matter how hard she tried to forget those terrible nightmares, she couldn’t. The worst of it was, she knew they were real. Human beings had done those things to other human beings. Her father, a man who was supposed to love and protect her, had done those things to other people’s loved ones. How could she ever fully trust anyone again?

She had the feeling the killer was someone who visited the county often, perhaps fishing or hunting on a regular basis. He might even stay at her fishing camp, or one of the many campsites or RV sites she rented out. She could be harboring the killer. He had to be close to her, or she wouldn’t be having nightmares.

Bailey gave a short bark of warning to announce the arrival of another vehicle. Sam immediately stood and gathered his gear as Zahra and Shabina leapt out of Shabina’s RAV4, neither looking as if they had been up most of the night partying.

“Where’s Raine?” Harlow asked.

“Search and Rescue was called to help look for whoever tried to kill Sam this morning,” Shabina said, looking Sam and Stella over. “She’s checking boats for scuba gear and talking to everyone out on the water, hoping someone might have seen something strange. Are you two all right?”

“Harlow has pronounced both of us just fine,” Stella said, following Sam to his rig. “Are you certain you’re okay to drive? I can take you back and have one of the others come with us.” She tried to keep anxiety out of her voice.

Sam had the door to his rig open and his gear already tossed on the passenger seat. He turned back to her and unexpectedly framed her face with his hands, sending her stomach into a roller coaster of loops and somersaults.

“I’ll be fine. Got work to do. You have fun with your friends, Stella, and don’t think about anything for a couple of days. It will do you good. I’ll look after the resort.” He bent his head and brushed his lips over hers.

It was the briefest of contacts, but hot as sin. A million butterflies took wing. The somersaults in her stomach increased so that she pressed her hand tight there, wondering why she’d never had that reaction in her life to any man she’d been around, or dated. He hadn’t really kissed her but it hadn’t seemed to matter.

He slid inside the truck, shut the door, eased down the window and looked at her with his dark eyes. “Satine, you have to step back so I can go. Not sticking around when the camp is overrun with women.”

That made her laugh. “You’re running away.”

“As fast as I can possibly go.”

Stella shook her head and moved away, lifting her hand, watching him back out with expert ease, then turn around and drive away. Almost at once she felt vulnerable, as if eyes were on them. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a slow look around. Someone could be on higher ground, hidden in the trees, a good distance away from them. He’d need binoculars if he was going to really see them clearly from that vantage point. There was the granite cliffside that ran up to the trees. Boulders jutted out and could provide cover. And of course, there was the lake. Anyone with a boat could watch them from the lake or one of the spots along the shore close to them.


Tags: Christine Feehan Suspense