Murder at Sunrise Lake

by Christine Feehan

  “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.”

  “And you’ve seen his arms since the attack on Bailey?” Vienna persisted. “I’m sorry to push so hard, Stella,” she added when Stella made a face, “but we love you and we have to be absolutely certain you’re safe.”

  Stella took another sip of her margarita and then nodded her head slowly, deliberately giving them her eyes darkened with sexual “memories.” “I have seen both arms, legs, as well as his entire very gorgeous body. Numerous times, I might add. There wasn’t a single bite mark that I didn’t put there myself. He doesn’t like to wear clothes to bed and he likes to wake me up in very interesting ways. The thing about Sam is, he’s very good at anything he does. Have you noticed that? He’s focused. Very, very focused.”

  “Stop,” Harlow said and pressed both hands over her ears.

  “No, you need to know how focused he gets, so you understand that I’ve learned that same focus from him. He inspects every square inch of me with his tongue. I can’t tell you how that feels. How he does this delicious little butterfly move that makes me want to scream and he isn’t even to the good parts yet . . .”

  “Stella,” Shabina wailed. “Give us a break.”

  “Just making certain you know I inspect him thoroughly and he’s super big in . . . er . . . that department, so I spend a bit of time there. The dog didn’t do any damage there and I’d be quite upset if he had. I would have reported that immediately.”

  “That comes under the heading of TMI,” Raine said. “Even I have to object.”

  Zahra threw her pillow, hitting Stella square in the face. “I don’t want to look at that man and wonder about his package. Don’t say another word.”

  Stella was having too much fun. Her friends were either looking horrified or laughing, or doing both at the same time.

  “I want you to know how it is totally impossible for the killer to be Sam when I’ve examined his body with the same absolute focus and attention he puts into mine. No scratches from Bailey’s claws, but there are a few from me in the throes of—”

  A hail of pillows came her way as the other women threw them, pelting her fast with every throw pillow Shabina had in the room they could get their hands on. Stella nearly dropped her margarita on the carpet. She barely managed to get it onto the end table, she was laughing so hard and fending off the pillow attack.

  “I’ll never get those images out of my head,” Harlow said. “Ugh. Thanks a lot.”

  “I could have been way more descriptive, but Sam is very private,” Stella said. “And you know, he probably has the room bugged or something, given that he was a secret agent.” She whispered the last two words.

  Instantly the women sobered and looked at one another and then around the room. Raine reached for one of the wayward pillows and buried her face in it.

  “He was a secret agent?” Zahra repeated. “Like James Bond?”

  “He couldn’t really bug my house. My security is too good,” Shabina said. Her eyebrows drew together. “Raine? Could someone really hack my security?”

  Raine tried to look very serious. “I suppose James Bond could.” She burst out laughing. “You all are so easy.”

  Vienna scowled at her. “We are talking about ruthless killers, Raine. And we’re helpless women alone in a huge house on a dark and stormy night.”

  They all looked at the windows. The wind was blowing, but there was no rain. In fact, the moon and stars were out.

  “Out of curiosity, how many of you are armed?” Shabina asked.

  Stella raised her hand. Shabina, Raine, Harlow and Vienna all raised their hands.

  Zahra raised her eyebrows. “Really? I’m the only one without a gun?”

  “You have some kind of weapon on you,” Stella said. “I know you, Zahra.”

  “Nothing so crude as a gun.”

  “So, it isn’t stormy and we’re not so helpless,” Raine concluded.

  They all began laughing again. Vienna shrugged and poured herself another drink from the pitcher on the low coffee table. “I got the part about it being dark right.”

  “Guns are crude?” Stella echoed. “Since when?”

  “They’re heavy. When you’re walking on the trail, with those horrid backpacks you insist I carry, they just add more weight. I have become a minimalist,” Zahra declared.

  Another round of laughter went up. With great dignity, Zahra rose, skirted around Stella and the dogs, and filled her glass with the contents of the pitcher.

  “I don’t understand why you’re all laughing. Do you even know what a minimalist is?” Zahra asked, her nose in the air. She made her way back to her spot, collecting pillows as she went. “These are really nice, Shabina, where did you get them? You always find the nicest things for your house.”

  “Babe,” Harlow objected. “You can’t be buying pillows for your house if you’re a minimalist.”

  Zahra sipped her drink and scowled at Harlow over the top of it. “Of course I can. I’m a minimalist when it comes to gear. Each of you has enough gear to open a sports store. Stella, have you ever thrown out one piece of climbing gear no matter how old it is?”

  Stella opened her mouth, closed it and then shook her head. “Don’t turn the spotlight on me. I’m not the one saying guns are crude and heavy. What sort of weapon did you bring?”

  Zahra gave one of her mysterious smiles. She could easily have posed for an art painting with that beautiful smile that gave nothing away. “An ancient weapon that requires skills but can be quite deadly in the right hands.”

  “You had to practice to be able to use it?” Shabina asked.

  “As in you actually lifted one of your beautifully manicured nails in order to learn?” Vienna sounded doubtful.

  “She didn’t say she could actually wield said weapon,” Raine pointed out. “Only that she had it on her.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith.” Zahra gave a haughty little indignant sniff. “I’m fairly accurate and I enjoy the challenge, much better than if I was trying to shoot someone.” She lifted her arm and shot back her oversized sweater to show the rows of small beads on the bracelet on her wrist. The beads were small and highly polished, looked to be black onyx, or a stone such as that.

  “Can you really use that as a weapon?” Stella asked.

  Zahra touched the beads and then pulled down her sweater. “Yes. I’m getting better every single day. It took a while to get comfortable with it on my wrist, but I wear it every day and practice with it. I’ve been doing so since I lost Elara. It gave me something to do while I debated whether to get another dog.”

  “You’re getting another dog,” they all said simultaneously.

  Zahra rolled her eyes again. “I suppose I am. I just don’t know when. I keep thinking I’ll make inquiries, but then I don’t. I don’t want to put expectations on a new puppy. That wouldn’t be fair to the little girl. I want the same breed, so right off the bat, I think it might be hard for both of us. I mean, how do you get the same mix?”

  “The Pyrenean Shepherds have different looks, Zahra,” Raine said. “I researched them thoroughly. Different colors and coats. And there are rescues that have mixes. They won’t be exactly the same, but you don’t really want the puppy to be the same.”

  The women all nodded in agreement.

  “You all researched?” Zahra asked.

  “
Of course. We were going to get you one for your birthday. We tried rescue places, but they didn’t have any available.”

  “You’re going to make me cry. That’s so sweet.” Zahra did look like she might cry. “It would be nice to have a little companion, although that running was a pain. I’d have to teach it to want to walk at a mild pace.”

  The laughter was genuine at the thought of that particular very energetic breed walking when it could run. Zahra was well aware of the breed’s need for exercise and she really didn’t mind at all, as much as she liked to complain.

  “How in the world did you ever get into playing poker for a living, Vienna?” Zahra asked. “I tried to practice not showing any expression on my face when I was coming over here and I knew we’d be talking to Stella about Sam, but the more I practiced, the worse it got. If I was playing a high-stakes poker game with a bunch of mean men who wanted to see me fail, I’d be sweating bullets.”

  Vienna shrugged. “I needed money and I was good at cards. I didn’t really know about counting cards so much as I don’t forget cards. I don’t forget much of anything I see, so playing cards is easy enough as long as I get the right cards. Sometimes it isn’t always about skill. I also study people. That helped too. And my opponents tend to underestimate me. The most difficult part was getting started. Getting enough money to buy into the game.” She gave them a little half smile. “Then once you start winning, it’s all about figuring out how to keep your winnings. Everyone’s out to take it from you.”

  “Do you enjoy it?” Raine asked.

  Vienna nodded. “Very much. I’m careful though. I’ve seen too many people get addicted to gambling. It isn’t winning money that’s thrilling for me, although it’s always a rush. It’s taking down the bullies. I guess when you were the one that got pushed around all the time, you get so you can spot the ones who enjoy doing the pushing. I can see them a mile way.”

  “Like Bale,” Shabina said.

  Vienna nodded. “Exactly like Bale. He’s a bully. He has to run the show. His friends had better fall into line, and so had everyone else. If they don’t, he makes fun of them and mocks them until they do what he wants. He’ll keep going at them until he gets his way. I’ve watched him do it, even to his best friends. They rarely stand up to him. Sean comes the closest, and when he does, he disappears for days on end into the forest, probably waiting until he thinks Bale is over his little snit.”

  “I can imagine the ones in Vegas are even worse than Bale,” Stella ventured.

  “I don’t know about worse,” Vienna said thoughtfully, “but certainly more entitled. They have money, way too much money, and they each think they’re the best at cards. They don’t want some woman to come along and take their reputation away. It’s humiliating to them. I mean, they smile and play it off nice, but you can see those tempers smoldering below the surface. I wire the money to my accounts before I ever leave the hotel and then have security walk me to my car. Even then, I had two incidents where someone tried to run me off the road on my way home. They weren’t playing either.”

  “Vienna.” Harlow breathed her name. “I hope you went to the police. Did you at least have the money to hire bodyguards after that? You lived in Vegas. Is that why you ended up here? Are you hiding out?”

  Vienna laughed. “Nothing so dramatic, Harlow. I came up here every chance I had because it brought me peace when I never felt like I had any. There’s something about the Sierras that slows everything down for me and puts it in perspective. I can see what true beauty is and what really matters, and the money isn’t important. Putting the slap-down on the bullies isn’t important. Taking the breath of fresh air and watching the sun come up over the lake makes the world right for me. When I got the chance, I moved up here permanently.”

  “Are you close with your mother?” Shabina asked.

  “There was a time I was. We were best friends. I thought we’d always be close. She met someone and she’s very happy, or so she says. I hope she is. I pay her rent and send her extra money for utilities and groceries. She writes and sends postcards she designs, inviting me to come see her and her lover. But when I do visit her, she’s so nervous, I’m uncomfortable and have the feeling she doesn’t want me there. I never stay more than a few minutes and she doesn’t try to get me to stay.”

  “Is her lover there when you visit?”

  “Never.” Vienna looked down at her drink. “That’s my fault really, not my mom’s. She never talked about my father. In fact, when I asked about him, she refused to talk about him. I have no idea who he is. It’s weird, like I was born into this void. No grandparents or siblings. There were no photographs or family history. Mom never talked about her past at all. It was always just the two of us.”

  Vienna rarely talked about her past, so all of them stayed silent. Stella wished Bailey was there. He was very fond of Vienna and he would have sensed her mood and gone to her to comfort her. She sipped at her drink and waited.

  Vienna looked up at them. They hadn’t turned on lights so it was only the low flames from the fireplace throwing those dancing colors onto the walls that lit up the room enough to see her expression of regret.

  “I was so childish when Mom announced she’d fallen in love. I want her to be happy. For heaven’s sake, I’m a grown woman. I don’t want her alone or living her life out with me and my cat. It was just that I fought so hard for her to stay alive and then suddenly, out of the blue, she tells me she’s fallen in love. She met a woman named Ellen at the infusion center. She was a volunteer there. They became friends.”

  Zahra frowned. “Did you know she preferred women?”

  Vienna shook her head. “She never dated. Not once. Not men or women. Not throughout my childhood or when I was an adult. She never discussed her sexuality with me. I thought I knew everything about her. I didn’t think we had secrets from each other, but it seems my entire life was built on secrets.”

  She gave them a shaky smile and took another drink of her icy margarita. “Thank heavens for midnight margaritas. This is a great way to spend the night.”

  Zahra raised her glass first. The others followed suit and they drank solemnly.

  “You’ve never met Ellen?” Stella asked, to prompt Vienna to keep talking.

  Vienna shook her head. “No. Mom and I had a terrible fight when she told me. Like I said, it was my fault. I reacted like a jealous teenager, not wanting my mommy to date. I’m embarrassed to think about how truly selfish and childish I acted. I’d been going to nursing school full-time and playing a few high-stakes games to keep the money coming in to pay the bills. I was exhausted and someone had tried to run me off the road. That was the night she chose to disclose how happy she was. I was at my lowest point. Scared. I wanted comfort and to talk things over with her. I was even considering putting off nursing school in order to pay off the medical bills faster so I wasn’t burning the candle at both ends.”

  “Oh no,” Harlow whispered.

  Vienna nodded. “It still doesn’t excuse my reaction. I dragged myself through the door and she was all over me, hugging and practically jumping up and down she was so excited. She didn’t notice what a mess I was or that I’d been crying. She just blurted out her news. I remember staring at her. Just standing in the entryway of our apartment staring at her with my jacket still on. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t get one word out. I really, really wish it had remained that way, because when I did talk, the things I said were horrible.”

  Silence fell again so only the crackling of the fire remained. One of Shabina’s dogs, Sharif, padded over to the bank of windows and pressed his nose to the glass.

  “That’s always my signal to close the blinds,” Shabina said. “He’s bossy that way. At least he allows me to have them open if there’s a storm. He knows I like to watch storms.” She used the remote to bring down the privacy screens, covering all the windows simultaneously.

 
“Doesn’t your name mean ‘eye of the storm’?” Stella asked.

  “Yes, although my father says I am the storm.” Shabina sank back down and rested her back against the sofa. Sharif curled up beside her.

  Vienna frowned. “Of all of us, Shabina, you’re probably the sweetest. Why in the world would your father think that?”

  “Excuse me,” Zahra said, her dark brows drawing together. “I believe I’m the sweetest.”

  Laughter broke out immediately, and Zahra endured it with great dignity. She poured herself the last of the margaritas from the pitcher. “All of you are not my friends right now. And I’m eating the rest of the chocolate bars, so don’t touch them.”

  Stella stood up. “I’ll make a fresh pitcher of margaritas. It won’t take long.”

  “There’s lots of different cookies in the kitchen,” Shabina called after her. “Throw some on another platter since Zahra isn’t sharing.”

  “Only because the lot of you refuse to acknowledge I’m sweet.” Zahra sat back down and took another bar. She waited until Stella was back and had topped everyone off with a fresh drink. “How bad did it get between you and your mom, Vienna?”

  Vienna frowned over the exquisite stemware. “I hurled insults at her until she finally hurled them back. But then she said something to the effect of she wasted her entire life in hiding, a sword hanging over her head for what? I wasn’t even her own blood. I know she said that. I know it. She stopped abruptly, turning white. She even put her hand over her mouth. I asked her what she meant and she said I was mistaken. That she hadn’t said that. Maybe I wished she had. Too bad for me, I was just going to have to deal. She was the one who got very ugly after that, saying really nasty things. I believe she did so on purpose in order to keep me from going back to that little piece of the fight that actually held the truth about my past.”

  Stella found herself a little shocked by Vienna’s story. She sounded hurt, and Stella could understand why. Vienna had grown up close to Mitzi, her mother, just the two of them. She’d worked hard to help her mother survive and was happy to do so. It had to have felt like betrayal even if Vienna was an adult. It had always been the two of them, and suddenly bringing in a third party without any warning would have blindsided her.