“There is this thing called exercise,” Stella said. “Miguel, our personal trainer, is still on speed dial.”
“Don’t speak his name to me,” Zahra sniffed indignantly. “He no longer exists. Not after telling me I have to swipe my badge at the desk if I want in his class.”
The other women burst out laughing. “You never swipe your badge, Zahra,” Harlow pointed out. “In fact, you don’t bring your badge.”
“If he doesn’t know who I am by now, there’s something seriously wrong with him.” Zahra’s dark eyes were passionate as they normally were when she was very serious about a subject. “Miguel Valdez can take his badge swiper he’s so fond of and shove it somewhere he doesn’t want to talk about. Besides, he’s so mean to me when he’s making us do our workouts.”
Stella rolled her eyes. “Don’t even go there. You make one little complaint and for you he changes the workout, but he makes me do the same hideous and extremely difficult program no matter what. And it’s always easy for you. You never sweat and I look like I dove into a swimming pool. My face is lobster red, even my eyelashes have sweat on them, and Miguel is over there helping you up and staring into your big brown eyes.”
The others burst out laughing. Harlow tossed a piece of popcorn at Zahra. “Stella has a point. I work out all the time and you just lie around complaining about how hard it is to run and then you just go out and run, talking the entire time, never running out of air or things to say while I’m keeling over.”
Zahra raised her dark eyebrows and stared at them all soberly, looking serious and innocent. None of them were buying into it.
“You’re a flirt too,” Vienna accused. “There isn’t a male in town, no matter the age, who isn’t enamored with you. I was juggling three bags of groceries and you had one. One. Two silly teenage boys come up and it’s, ‘Oh, Zahra, can I carry that for you?’” She used a teen voice and rolled her eyes.
Zahra shrugged and examined her fingernails, a little smirk curving her lips. Even that was attractive. “I can’t help it if these boys are polite, Vienna. You glare at them when they try to help. You speak of women’s independence. I only want to be independent when it suits me. Taking out trash doesn’t suit me. Doing Miguel’s torture exercises and swiping my name badge certainly doesn’t suit me. And I despise running unless I have my dog with me, which I no longer do, so running is a chore. I even hated it then, but I did it for her.”
“I swear, I’m getting you another dog,” Harlow groused.
“I’ve been thinking I should be a cat lady like Vienna. She has a white cat and I’ll get a black cat and call her Matilda.”
“You need a dog to run with you,” Raine said firmly. “Eat another chocolate bar.”
Zahra obediently chose one and took a bite, again moaning as if she were in ecstasy. “Who needs a man when we have Shabina’s bars?”
There was another round of laughter. Stella leaned her head back against the sofa, grateful that she had such good friends. Sam was right, she’d needed them— needed the closeness of them. The laughter they shared. Still, they had gathered for a purpose. She could tell there was an underlying tension that ran between them. They wanted her comfortable and mellow, in a soft, trusting, open mood.
She took one of the chocolate bars and regarded her friends. “You may as well get to the main subject, because I know you want to talk to me about something. None of you has a poker face with the exception of Vienna.” She laughed at her own joke. It was a little significant that none of them really laughed with her. They smiled, but they didn’t laugh. If anything, they looked uneasy.
Stella sat up a little straighter. She looked around Shabina’s living room at all of her friends. They looked troubled, and no one seemed to want to bring up what was bothering them. She looked to Zahra. She never understood what it was about Zahra that she’d gravitated to right from the beginning. They had very different personalities, but she knew, even if it sounded weird, they were soul mates. She could count on Zahra.
“What’s going on? We all have our drinks. We’re comfortable, or should be, but you look like someone is about to do in your best friend. Me, I’ve had a lot of blows the last few weeks, so just get it over with. Tell me.”
The women exchanged long looks between them. Stella took a drink of her margarita and wished she had Bailey to comfort her.
It wasn’t Zahra, but Vienna, who was the one to answer her. “I spoke to Amelia Sanderson, the vet, about Bailey and his wounds.”
Immediately, Stella tensed, fearful Amelia might have given Vienna bad news she wouldn’t have given Stella, maybe long-term effects that Bailey would suffer.
“Given the number of stab wounds on his body, his size and power, the fact that he was stabbed while attacking and yet no major damage was done to his internal organs, whoever used that knife on him had to know what they were doing. They knew anatomy.”
Stella frowned, her eyes on Vienna’s, trying to comprehend what her friend was getting at. “You’re saying whoever stabbed Bailey didn’t want to kill him.”
“Amelia says the attacker had a big knife and he could have killed Bailey, but he didn’t. He punched down about two inches and raked, opening lacerations but avoiding any internal organs. Bailey had charged, probably bit him. There was blood on his teeth. He maybe had one arm in his mouth. The man had to be strong and he had to be calm throughout the entire attack. That takes someone incredibly well trained.”
Vienna fell silent. The other women avoided Stella’s gaze. She took another drink of her icy margarita. Morza, one of the Dobermans, rose and padded over to Stella to drop down beside her. He had always been her favorite of the three.
“Hey, baby. Are you missing Bailey too?” Stella continued to meet Vienna’s eyes. She was going somewhere with this. “I’m listening.”
“It was dark. You were running toward them. The attacker only had seconds and yet he got in four stab wounds, Stella. That would ensure that you would have to take Bailey down the mountain to the vet as quickly as possible in order to keep him from bleeding out. An ambulance would transport Sonny.”
Stella frowned. “I know all this, I was there, remember?”
“Honey,” Zahra said, gentle for her. “Think about how calm this attacker would have to be. How strong. How many men do you know like that?”
“How many men know anatomy?” Vienna persisted.
Stella shrugged. “Most of the men in this area hunt for meat to carry their families through the winter. They’re incredibly strong because they climb and they pack out their kills. They know anatomy because they cut up that meat and package it. You aren’t eliminating suspects.”
“Who do you know that could remain that calm during an attack by a ferocious dog weighing in at sixty-five pounds? Bailey’s all muscle. The attacker would have had to deliberately shove his arm into Bailey’s mouth and then stab him repeatedly knowing you were running toward them. He got Bailey down and calmly backed off, most likely watching you attending to your dog while the sheriff came to help. Who do you know who is that strong, and that absolutely cool under fire?”
She blinked. Her stomach dropped. Sam. They were talking about Sam. She looked at each of their faces. Vienna. Zahra. Shabina. Harlow. Raine. Raine was the only one who looked unconvinced. In fact, she looked as if the others were so far off base, she thought they were nuts. Clearly, she had argued against their reasoning.
Stella shook her head slowly. She didn’t understand how any of them could think the serial killer could possibly be Sam. He wasn’t like that. He might kill if he had to, but he wouldn’t kill indiscriminately. “The serial killer isn’t Sam. Don’t you think I would know? I’m sleeping with him, for heaven’s sake.”
No one said anything. Stella sighed and tried again. “For one thing, Vienna, he was with you on Whitney when the two climbers were thrown over the edge.”
“He wasn’t though. We split up.”
Stella glared at her, not because she thought
Sam was guilty but because that had put Vienna in danger. “You promised the two of you would stick together. Do you have any idea how much danger you were in? You could have been killed.”
“I decided the killer was looking for a couple, not one single woman or one single man. We were in more danger together,” Vienna argued. “We had clearly missed the intended targets and didn’t know why, so we split up to cover more ground. In the end, it didn’t matter. We were too late. So, no, I wasn’t with him.”
“Nevertheless, Sam isn’t the serial killer. He was attacked first. Remember? I was there. I dove into the water. I saw someone in a diving suit trying to drown him. That diver hit me in the face and then kicked me in the chest. Do you think I’m making that up in order to protect him?”
She did her best to keep the belligerence out of her voice. She had to remind herself these were her friends and they had real concerns. They wanted her to be safe. From their perspective, Sam might be a logical choice. They didn’t know him the way she did. He could be intimidating at times, she could acknowledge that. There were all kinds of rumors about him. Even Denver, his closest friend, had warned her about him. Raine had told her to be cautious about the relationship.
“No one thinks you would lie to protect Sam, Stella,” Vienna said. “But the fact is, he could have had help. He could have set up that attack on himself easily. He barely had a scrape on his head. Certainly not enough to lose consciousness.”
“He told me he hadn’t lost consciousness,” Stella admitted. “It isn’t him. For one thing, he wouldn’t have to break into the house, he knows the code to get in, and someone tried to break in after the attack on Sonny. And I’d see bite marks on his body from Bailey. I do actually see him naked. More than any of that, I know him. It isn’t him.”
“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?” Vi
enna 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.
Murder at Sunrise Lake Page 31
