“Spit it out,” she ordered.
“You won’t like it.”
She raised one eyebrow.
“I don’t like it.”
“You’re most likely wrong. We’re only guessing,” she reminded him.
“I don’t think I’m wrong. You’ve got enough crap to contend with. I should just keep this particular speculation to myself.”
“Samuele Lorenzo Rossi.” She called him by the full name he’d given her on his employment record, the one she couldn’t find anywhere on the internet.
He winced visibly. “Only my mother called me that when she was really upset with me and I was in trouble. Mostly between the ages of two to seventeen.”
“That’s your actual name? And the real spelling?”
“Yes. Why would I lie to you? I knew I was staying. I told you. The minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. I checked to make sure you weren’t taken and then I set out to win you. Pay attention, Satine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why couldn’t I find you on the internet? You should be there, at least your earlier life with your father.”
“Type of work I did, didn’t want anything leading back to my family.”
That made sense. “I am not letting you distract me, as charming as I find you, especially knowing your mother used your full name to chastise you. What is your theory of why the serial killer might be stalking me if he doesn’t know anything about my past?”
Sam sighed and once more came to the side of the bed and sank down, his weight shifting the mattress so she nearly tumbled into him. He put his arm around her to steady her, or offer comfort, she wasn’t certain which. Now, she braced herself, wondering if it had been such a good idea to insist on knowing his theory, especially since he really didn’t want to tell her, which meant he was reasonably sure he was right.
“This man has met you, Stella. He doesn’t have to know you very well. He could have met you in passing. You don’t realize it, but you’re considered somewhat of royalty down in town. There are businesses thriving because of you. That means jobs. You don’t notice, but you go into a restaurant and you’re seated right away. Others have to wait. You don’t have to pay. The owner waves off your money because you saved his ass when he was going under. Now he’s making it through the winter with cash to spare.”
His assessment of her embarrassed her. She had saved a struggling fishing camp. When she’d taken over management, the place was going under, and every single cabin, RV and fishing camp, dock and piece of equipment was in desperate need of repair. The owner had money, but he was tired and didn’t have the staff or the energy to keep his beloved business going. He had hired her as a last-ditch effort to keep his fishing camp open. It was Stella who had come up with the idea of a high-end resort and a first-class fishing tournament, two things that didn’t sound as if they would mesh at all. She got the locals on board and turned their businesses around right along with the one she was managing.
“He could be a temporary worker here or in town. He might have been one of the campers or a climber you talked to when you were out bouldering. You’re friendly, Stella. You talk to people. You make them feel like they matter. You get coffee when you’re in town and you stand in line and he could have stood in line next to you and talked to you. Obsession starts that way. Some stalkers fantasize they’re in a relationship with the one they’re obsessed with.”
Stella pressed a hand to her churning stomach. “Great. A serial killer might be fantasizing he has a relationship with me? That’s what you think?”
He nodded slowly. “That’s why you felt him at the campsite and in town. That’s why he’s out here some nights. He could have been trying to get into the house to get a few of your things to take home with him to feed his illusion.”
By now, she could tell, whoever had been outside was gone. It didn’t matter. The idea that Sam might be right was repulsive. “I don’t want to think about this anymore, Sam.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers. “Just kiss me.”
Kissing Sam was never enough. He slid her under him and then the world disappeared until there was only the two of them and she couldn’t think, only feel, because Sam had a way of setting her world on fire.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The formal dining room in Shabina Foster’s home was large, the ceiling high and the walls made of what appeared to be white marble with thin gold veins running through them. If one looked closely, that was exactly what they were made of. The ceiling overhead had heavy beams of redwood quartering the deep insets of subtle gold. The floors matched the subtle gold of the ceiling and pull the very thin, jagged veins of gold from the walls. The room defied description, but then Shabina’s entire house did.
She owned the local café and worked from early morning until late afternoon serving customers, some very surly. Even the car she drove, a RAV4, was modest for the area when one could afford the best, and yet when she went home, few knew the home she went to was behind closed ornate gates. The drive led to a three-car attached garage with radiant floor heating. The garage was attached to a four-bedroom, four-full-bath home with a library, game room, chef’s dream kitchen and formal dining room as well as a smaller, more intimate dining room and many other appointments, including an indoor pool and exercise room. Mostly, Stella knew, it was the kitchen and the grounds Shabina had fallen in love with.
Outside the two-story mansion, a gray-and-white stone pathway meandered through beautiful, well-kept gardens with several water features before going up three long round stairs that curved around the front of the deep verandah. The lanai was long and was shaded by a roof to keep the unrelenting sun off those enjoying an afternoon breeze. Screens fit along the railings to keep out insects, protecting the occupants from nasty bites.
Stella loved Shabina’s home. At first glance, it might seem pretentious, but it was warm and homey and always welcoming. If she’d had Bailey with her, he would have been right in that formal dining room, nose to nose with Shabina’s handsome boys, three large Doberman pinschers: Morza, Sharif and Malik. Her dogs accompanied her everywhere. Stella had been shocked when Jason had issued his warning about Shabina not going into the forest alone. She always had her very well-trained dogs with her. Didn’t everyone know that? Would someone shoot her dogs like they had stabbed Bailey?
“What are you thinking about, Stella? You’re looking at my boys like they might suddenly come out of their dog beds and attack,” Shabina said, putting one of the sketches back down on her gleaming cherrywood formal dining table.
The table was massive and sat beneath a tiered chandelier that appeared to be dripping a multitude of chains of raindrops. Stella had never considered it odd that Shabina had dog beds in every room for the three Dobermans. She was a dog person. Bailey usually went with her, and if he didn’t go into a home, he was out in her rig. Most of her friends wanted her to bring him inside. Vienna’s cat was the only exception, and Vienna was mortified over her princess acting so snobby. She was determined that someday the silly cat would come around and appreciate the dogs. Her friends all knew that was never happening.
“Remember I told you Jason whispered that warning to me about you going into the forest alone? You always have the dogs with you. Someone stabbed Bailey. Do you think he meant they would hurt your boys? All three of them? They would have to in order to harm you, Shabina. I don’t think they’d run away if someone came at you.”
Shabina’s eyes, those strangely colored, intense royal-blue eyes, stared directly into hers. “No, they would never run away. Aside from being my companions, they’re trained personal protection dogs. I love them dearly, and they’re rarely away from me. At the café, they’re in a room with the door open so they can see me at all times.”
“How did I not know that all this time? Bailey knows some commands, but he wasn’t trained by a professional. Were they?” Stella
looked at the three Dobermans.
“Yes. And then I was trained to handle them as well. I’ve had them from the time they were puppies, but we were given strict instructions on how to interact as they got older.”
“Why would you need them, Shabina?”
Shabina shrugged. “My dad works all over the world. He used to take my mother and me with him. We’d spend months in one place. Sometimes there were factions that didn’t like Americans. When I was fifteen, I was kidnapped on my way home from school. My bodyguards were killed and I was taken by some pretty vile men.”
For a moment, her lips trembled and she turned away from Stella. Stella could barely believe what she was hearing. In all the years she’d known Shabina, she’d appeared composed and confident. For just that brief instant there was a crack in that perfect serenity, but she recovered fast.
“How awful, Shabina. I had no idea.”
“My father and his company didn’t let the news get out. They felt if they gave the kidnappers publicity, it would only make the situation worse.” Shabina’s left hand stroked her throat with trembling fingers.
All three dogs lifted their heads. The largest, Morza, padded over to her and pressed against her legs, clearly in tune with her. Stella knew dogs were sensitive to their owners, and Shabina’s recall of those memories couldn’t be pleasant.
“Were they looking for money?”
“They demanded a ransom, of course. My father paid. They didn’t return me. They had all kinds of demands after that. It was clear to everyone, me included, that I was never going to get away from them unless I was rescued. The odds of that happening were very slim. They moved me all the time.” Her fingers continued to stroke her throat as if it hurt. “I managed to escape once on my own, but they found me. I was out in the middle of nowhere. No shoes. My ankles were messed up. I could barely walk. They were seriously pissed at me when they found me. I thought they would kill me. I wished they had.”
That didn’t sound good. Stella frowned, nearly mesmerized by those fingers stroking her throat. “How long did they have you, Shabina?”
“I was fifteen when they took me and sixteen and a half before I was rescued. Nearly a year and a half.” Now all three dogs surrounded her. Shabina suddenly seemed aware of them. She looked down at them and smiled. “I’m all right, boys. Just taking a trip down memory lane. Sorry, Stella. I don’t usually go there. In fact, I try to keep that particular door closed and locked as best I can.”
“And I thought I had a lousy childhood. I’m really sorry, Shabina.”
“It was hard on my parents. They didn’t want me out of their sight once they got me back. I didn’t want to be away from them. I slept in their bedroom until I was nineteen. My father had a contingency of bodyguards around my mother and me at all times after I was back home. I still didn’t feel safe.”
She looked down at the dogs and smiled. “But then I saw a woman training several personal protection dogs when I went with my father to the security company where he hired the bodyguards. She was down in this long field the offices overlooked. I was so fascinated. It was the first time I felt like I could breathe. I didn’t want to leave and I was very fortunate that the owner of the company allowed me to go down to meet her.”
Stella knew what she meant. She’d felt that way when her foster mother had allowed her to have a dog for the very first time.
“Meeting Lisa Fenton and learning about personal protection dogs changed my life. Lisa worked with me and gave me an understanding of how the dogs worked and how I needed to interact with them while they were working and when they weren’t. I could tell her dogs were totally bonded to her, and yet when she was training them, they were like precision machines. She liked the Dobies for me because they were so sensitive and she felt I needed that.”
“I had no idea. They’re so sweet,” Stella said. “They hike with you, go to the boulders with us, and camp. I’ve never seen them act aggressive at all. They’ve alerted, but then all the dogs do on occasion.”
“Personal protection dogs aren’t supposed to act aggressive until they have to, Stella,” Shabina said. She signaled to the dogs and they left her side. “I do my best to be as independent as possible. My parents visit often and we talk together online, but I needed to establish my own space and feel like I could make it on my own.” She smiled at Stella. “I came to the Sierras backpacking. I wanted to hike the JMT alone to see if I could do it without panicking. Then I met you, Stella. You were such an inspiration, just like Lisa.”
Stella had no idea.
“I thought if you could be so brave as to take on a job like managing a failing business, then I should at least try my dream of opening a café. I had the money. There was nothing stopping me but fear. I had the necessary skills and the business background. My father made certain of that, even when I couldn’t attend classes. He made me take them at home. I couldn’t walk out the front door for a very long time, and when I did try, I often failed.”
“But you kept trying,” Stella pointed out.
Shabina nodded. “I did. My parents encouraged me, although, like I said, my father surrounded me for a very long time with a wall of security. I needed it at first. Once I came here, I felt at peace. There’s something real here. I feel connected to nature. My mind is still and calm. I love to hear the birds sing and the wind move through the leaves on the trees. Meeting you and then Zahra, Vienna, Harlow and Raine settled it for me. I knew I belonged here.”
“That’s how I feel. We all have these strange backgrounds. I thought all of you would look at me differently knowing I have a serial killer for a father, but instead, all of you showed me why you’re my friends. I’m kind of ashamed of myself for thinking you would look down on me.”
“It would make sense to want to walk away from your past, Stella,” Shabina said. “I never talk about what happened to me. We all came here for various reasons, and thankfully we’ve formed our own family of sorts. It’s been good for me and I appreciate it. I’m okay with whatever any of you want to share or not share. I’m just grateful I discovered the Sierras were right for me and that all of you accepted me into your circle.”
Shabina picked up one of the sketches. “What did the vet say about Bailey?”
Stella instantly smiled. “He’s stronger today. I can go see him. She wants to keep him another few days so he’ll stay quiet. He’s on antibiotics and pain meds. Once I bring him home, he won’t be allowed to move around other than to do his business. He’ll need to stay on his meds and wear the cone of shame.”
“That was one frightening night,” Shabina said. “I kept thinking it could have been one of my boys. We all love Bailey. He’s such a sweet boy and he was protecting Sonny.”
“Sonny was on his rounds. He’s very thorough. He never saw his attacker. Griffen Cauldrey, the deputy sheriff—you know him, right?” At Shabina’s nod, Stella continued. “Griffen thinks Sonny came up on him, the attacker heard him coming, hid, and knocked him out. I just happened to text Sonny right then and he didn’t answer, so Bailey and I went looking for him. Bailey charged and the man stabbed him with the knife.”
“Bailey must have bitten him,” Shabina said. “There’s no way that dog didn’t get his teeth into his attacker, not if he was stabbed four times. Even if he isn’t a trained attack dog, Stella, he’s big and powerful. He’s not afraid. He’d fight.”
Stella hadn’t thought of that. She should have. Bailey had been trained by a professional, not the way Shabina’s pack had been trained, but he’d certainly had lessons with a trainer. He knew his commands and he had good instincts. She’d heard that roar, that challenge. Of course he would have managed to get his teeth into his opponent.
“Whoever attacked Bailey and Sonny had to have been bitten, and probably severely. No way would they go to the local clinic or hospital, but they might contact one of the nurses. You might talk to Vienna an
d have her put out the word at the hospital to everyone,” Shabina said, tapping her finger on the tabletop.
“I wondered why he didn’t stick around and just kill me and then kill Sonny. It didn’t make any sense to me at the time, but if he was hurt . . .” She broke off. “He couldn’t have been too hurt. Later, he tried to break into my house.”
“How much later? Do you know what time it was? You had to get Bailey down the mountain, right? What about Sonny? Who took care of him? Did an ambulance take him to the hospital? How long did it take before he was out of there?”
“That’s a good question. I didn’t think to ask. I was so involved with Bailey and then came home to that. It was pretty awful. I should have considered how much time had passed before the break-in and everyone had left.” She frowned. “No doubt Sam did. He’s always one step ahead of me in that kind of thing.”
“He thinks differently, is all,” Shabina said. “That’s good. The more people thinking about this and coming at it from different directions, the better. I also think it’s a good thing everyone is used to the way we women get together often. So, if we’re together to throw out ideas, no one else in town is going to think anything about it.”
“Sam really thinks differently,” Stella conceded. “And he stays calm. After these nightmares and Bailey and this horrid man watching me all the time, I need that calm. You know me, I don’t get creeped out, but this person has managed to do it. I’m not just afraid for me, I’m afraid for Sam and for all of you.”
“I thought a lot about Jason giving you that warning. I go hiking every single day with the dogs. They need it and so do I. It’s made me very leery. I always put the dogs on alert now, where before, it was their fun time. Now they’re working. I hate having to do it, but I know it’s necessary. It’s also made me consider Jason might know more than he’s saying.”
Shabina ran her finger over the trees and grasses in the sketch. Stella had been very accurate in her portrayal of the colors. She’d taken her time filling them in after the second night. The camera had widened to show her more of the terrain, but little of the actual victim. She could see more of his legs and the camouflage pants he wore, that was it. She’d concentrated on drawing the trees and brush she saw and the grasses that were everywhere.
Murder at Sunrise Lake Page 29
