“I know it sucks, but when you considered the timing of your first nightmare, it really was around the time we started cementing our relationship. It is possible the killer saw us together and didn’t like the way we were looking at each other. Or the way I was looking at you, at least. Sometimes I don’t hide my feelings for you as well as I should.”
She had pulled the covers over her legs, but at his last statement, she fisted the blankets and blinked at him. “Man.” There was a lump in her throat she was afraid she might choke on.
“Woman.” His voice was so velvet soft it caressed her skin.
“You don’t look at me openly like you’re wild about me. You hide your feelings very well. It’s me that gets a little crazy when I’m drinking. I … say things.”
His smile started slow and her stomach did a little somersault. Then the smile actually lit up his eyes and she melted inside. He did that to her so easily now.
“I do recall there was one night when I poured you and your friends into the 4Runner and drove you home. You did say I was gorgeous. And hot is another word you used, I believe.”
“Did I say it in the bar?”
He nodded. “Several times. Straddling my lap. You kissed me twice. That was about the time I decided you’d had enough and I was taking you home. I could only take so much. Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart, I was enjoying every second of it, but things were getting out of control.”
She closed her eyes. “I was really hoping all the things I thought about doing to you, I didn’t actually try doing to you.” She opened her eyes. “I did, didn’t I?”
“I just picked you up and hauled your ass to the rig. Believe me, sweetheart, the only one suffering that night was me.”
“And then you nearly got killed the next morning.” She frowned and stroked her fingers over the sketchpad. “Do you remember what happened the weekend before? What we were doing? The nightmares started earlier. If the catalyst really was seeing you and me getting together, then we had to have been showing signs of that earlier in the week, Sam.”
Her stomach muscles knotted. She didn’t want her memory to be the same as the one he might name. She had kept this one sacred moment close to her, something special, when she had so few. She didn’t want to think a serial killer had started murdering because he may have witnessed that “private” intimacy between them.
His expression softened. Sam was hard edges. Hard angles and planes. When he looked at her with that particular look, the one he didn’t give to anyone else, she knew he was hers and he made her feel safe and wanted.
“Stella, we’ve been together for over two years. We go into town together all the time. We buy supplies for the resort. We stand close when we’re looking at your list that is written in some kind of gibberish no one can possibly understand but you. I’ve got my hand on your shoulder or around your waist. You’ve got your hand on my arm when we’re walking. We’re comfortable with each other. We eat together every meal in town unless you’re meeting one of your posse, and half the time I’m sitting at the table three feet from you looking out for you. Everyone knows how I feel about you. Everyone. I make it clear.”
She nodded because everything he said was true. They did go into town together. Sometime over the last couple of years that had just evolved. It still didn’t explain what would have been different enough to trigger someone into becoming a serial killer. But she was afraid she knew. She hoped not, but she was afraid it was their first kiss— the kiss she had initiated.
“How do you make it clear that you feel something for me? No one can read your expression, Sam.” She put it off one more time, struggling to make the killer have other reasons to stalk her.
“Men can read me loud and clear when it comes to you, Stella. There’s a big stay away sign. Haven’t you noticed the lack of males asking you out?”
“I put off vibes that say I’m not interested in dating.”
“Did that stop them three years ago?”
She frowned. “Maybe not. I don’t know. But if you were giving males the warning to stay away in some mysterious bro code that I missed completely for two years, why didn’t the obsessed serial killer start his murder spree back then?”
“Because you were still closed off, sweetheart. You were slowly letting me in, but no one could see it but me. At first he thought we worked together and had to spend a lot of time together. Then we were friends. You have a lot of friends, and quite a few are males. You didn’t seem to treat me much different than you did the others. At first. I suppose our relationship changed over time so slowly that he got used to it, just like you did.”
Her frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”
“A lot of careful planning went into those two years. Looking over your shoulder to read your list, for instance. I’m taller, so I had to bend down. That required putting my hand on your shoulder to steady myself.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You never lose your balance. Not in any situation.”
For the first time ever, he actually grinned at her, and her heart reacted by nearly skipping a beat.
“No, I don’t typically lose my balance, but I suppose it could happen.”
“You were getting me used to you touching me.”
He raised an eyebrow without a hint of remorse. “It worked. What do they say? All is fair in love and war. Courting you was a little of both.”
She sat in the middle of her bed, back to the headboard, and contemplated the difference Sam had made in her life. She was no longer shaking and crying. No longer rocking back and forth. He was a rock to lean on, yet he didn’t take over and fix things for her. He waited to talk things out when she was ready. And he’d taken his time, had the patience to “court” her differently, to gently insert himself into her life and make himself part of it, indispensable. She was both flattered and amused.
“You’re a little bit scary.”
He nodded. “The kind of man your best friends warn you about.”
She laughed. “They certainly did.” The smile faded. “If you were consistent, Sam, and we’re going with the theory that the killer is obsessed with me, then something I did had to have triggered him, right?” Don’t let it be our first kiss. At least give me that.
“It could have been a combination of things, Stella. Don’t look for blame, that’s a slippery road.”
“I’m actually not. I’m trying to remember what I might have done differently, how I might have acted toward you right before the nightmares started. That would give us an idea of who was around then.”
She already knew, but she wanted it to be something else, not that precise moment in time when she had been so certain she had made a complete and utter fool of herself. She had hoped no one saw her and Sam didn’t remember, but of course he did. She’d done her best not to think about it, when she’d thought about it every night until the nightmares started.
“You were on the street with Bailey and me, trying to decide whether to go shopping right then or have lunch with Raine. We didn’t have a lot of time because we had to get back and meet with the inspector. You hadn’t seen Raine in over a week. No one had, and you were worried about her. I told you I’d get the chores done and take care of Bailey, to just text Raine to meet you at Shabina’s café. You did and she immediately said she could meet you. You threw your arms around me and kissed me. Right there on the street in front of everyone.”
She felt a fiery red creep up her skin from her neck to her face. “I did not.” But she had. She remembered that kiss very vividly. It had started out very chaste. A thank-you. She meant to just kind of brush her lips against his. But then she tasted him. It should have stopped right there. He should have stiffened up or pushed her away.
Sam wasn’t the kind of man who invited women to drape themselves all over him. At least if he was, she didn’t know about it. His arm had come around her like an iron bar, locking her to him, and one hand bunched in her hair and then … well … she just was lost. Ther
e was nothing but feeling and fire, and she forgot where she was. She melted into him. He had to steady her, putting his hands on her hips, holding her away from him while she blinked up at him like a complete idiot, wondering what had just happened. Then she nearly went right to the sidewalk because her legs turned to jelly. Seriously, it had been that ridiculously bad. She closed the door on her behavior.
“I’m fairly certain, Sam, you kissed me.”
“Anyone watching us would have seen that you initiated the action, Satine. I may have taken advantage of the situation, but you definitely initiated.”
“Do you think anyone really paid any attention?”
His eyebrow lifted. “Sweetheart. Really? We were right in the middle of town, out in the open. You’re royalty. You’re out on the street, everyone is looking. Then you almost walked out into the middle of traffic and I had to stop you. You nearly made me laugh. That probably got a little reaction out of anyone watching. I walked you to the café just to make sure you made it because you were in a daze.”
“I was not.” She had been.
“Woman.”
“He saw me kiss you.”
“Most likely.”
“You knew all along.”
“I considered the possibility when he kept watching you. He either knew who you were, or he was obsessed with you. If he knew who you were and that you would know he was a killer, he would expect you to contact the authorities. You didn’t. He didn’t try to kill you. I don’t believe he knows who you really are, so that means he either isn’t the killer and is a stalker, or he’s one and the same man.”
Stella watched him closely. She loved his mind, the way he put things together but let her think things through herself. That was important to her. She didn’t want anyone solving her issues, she’d been doing that for herself too long. Still, it was nice to be able to lean on him once in a while, to know he was there and that he would be a sounding board. She liked that he used her as one as well.
“I just don’t believe in coincidence, that there were two different men doing these things, one a serial killer and the other a stalker, especially since they popped up at exactly the same time. It makes sense they’re the same person,” Sam said.
She tried to absorb that without flinching or taking on blame. What this man did was on him, not her. She wasn’t responsible for what her father had done. Her foster mother had given that gift to her through her love and counseling, refusing to allow Stella to take on that burden. She hadn’t allowed her to continue believing she had broken up her family and pushed her mother to suicide. She wouldn’t throw that wisdom away, not now when she had to hold tight to it in order to try to save a life and prevent a killer from murdering again when he seemed to be unstoppable. But it was hard not to think that the killer was ripping away the kinds of memories she cherished and wanted to hold to her.
“I don’t believe in that kind of coincidence either, Sam.” How could they possibly link him to the “accidents”?
OVER THE NEXT few nights, Stella carefully recorded the details from her nightmares. She sketched the early morning sunlight spilling across sparse grass growing over rocky ground. The grass was mostly yellow and brown and had fallen over rather than having been trampled. The rocks embedded in the dirt made the path uneven, the trail faint, as if few people walked it. Still, the trail was there, no more than a foot or so wide. Now that the lens had opened a bit, it was easier to see. Leaves and debris, such as twigs and even small branches, covered the ground, making the borders of the path harder to see, but with the wider view, Stella was able to discern the twists and turns as the trail seemed to lead endlessly to nowhere.
Clearly, this wasn’t a favorite climbing area for locals or tourists. October was getting late in the season for climbing, especially bouldering, but beautiful days weren’t wasted. Often, since Stella was so busy during the fishing and tourist seasons, after she closed the resort, she would try to get in as much bouldering as possible before the weather changed. It wasn’t surprising that these two climbers were enjoying the clear, although brisk, October weather.
Stella studied the third night’s sketches, laying them out across the bed for Sam to look at with her. He liked to climb as well. That was what had originally drawn him to the area, as it had so many others. Climbers came from all over the world to try their expertise on the various boulders. Fortunately, there were all kinds of climbs, for everyone from beginners to experts.
“This is the best I could get, Sam,” she said, chewing worriedly on her lower lip. “Three nights and mostly I’ve seen the trail going in. This is the bottom of the rock. Granite. Big surprise there. I sketched as much detail along the bottom part of the rock as I could see. There’s this gnarly overhang here. I swear I’ve seen it before. See how the colors go from a red to an almost deeper shade of purple? That isn’t just a shadow. I thought it was at first, but I don’t think it is. The lines in the granite swirl here.”
Sam nudged her over with his hip and settled next to her, picking up the drawing to study it. “This isn’t a place I’ve been climbing. It has to be remote. I’ve looked at the trail going in several times and no one has been on it other than perhaps one, maybe two people in months. You can tell by the grass and debris. If I were to make a guess, I’d have to say it was probably the same person making the trek back there. Maybe both of them.”
“I know I’ve been there at least once,” Stella said. “I rarely forget anything, especially somewhere I’ve bouldered.”
“It’s possible you weren’t bouldering,” Sam pointed out. “If there are two of them, they might be trad climbing. Or sports climbing. Look at the shadows. They’re carrying rope.”
Stella didn’t like climbing with rope. That was a well-known fact among her friends. She could do it, but she didn’t like it. She preferred to solve the problems bouldering presented. She was a solitary climber. The risks were her own. “This particular place is very remote, Sam. If someone is working it, my guess is it’s someone’s long-term project. He’s been working on it for weeks, maybe longer, but that’s just a guess.”
She pressed her hand to her forehead. “This is so frustrating.”
Sam caught her wrist and pulled her hand down, keeping possession of it. “You’re driving yourself crazy, Stella. You have to let this go for a little while. You’ve done everything you can do for now. Tomorrow night, you’ll get a bigger glimpse of the rock and that will hopefully jog your memory. If not, then when we show all these drawings to the others, one of them will recognize the place. Always, on the fifth night, you get a much clearer vision.”
“He’s been killing the very next day. He doesn’t wait one or two nights like the other killers. He’s too eager.”
Sam’s thumb slid up and down over the back of her hand in a little caress as he pressed her palm over his heart. “The moment we know the location, we can drive out there. What’s more natural than you practicing rope climbing? Especially where we know no one else is around? The killer is interrupted and we find out who he is.”
Something in his voice made her heart stutter and then accelerate. There was no real inflection. His tone was soft, gentle even, so Sam. She turned her head, her eyes meeting his.
“Sam.”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
He brought her hand to his mouth and scraped his teeth over the pads of her fingers, igniting a million fiery nerve endings, nearly distracting her. She took a deep breath.
“Once we know who he is, we have to talk to Griffen.”
His gaze didn’t shift from hers. He looked at her steadily, his teeth biting down. Her stomach turned over and her sex clenched.
“What exactly are we going to say to Griffen, Stella? What proof do we have? There’s no way to convict him.”
“Sam, you can’t go after him.”
He didn’t say anything, he just looked at her.
She shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. You can’t.”
“Sweethe
art, what other choice is there? We can’t let him keep killing people. Once we know who he is, anyone he kills after that is on us. The cops can’t arrest him without proof. You know that. They need enough for a conviction. They don’t have anything on him and they aren’t going to get it. He’s too intelligent. They would have to wait for him to kill. Then he’d have to make mistakes during his kills.”
“You can’t.”
“It’s what I do.”
“Not anymore. You aren’t in that life. You came here to find a different life and you’ve found it, Sam. It would be different if it was self-defense, but it isn’t. And don’t you dare set yourself up so he comes after you. I mean it.”
“He can’t live, Stella.” Same steady tone. Gentle. Patient. He didn’t look away from her, not even for a moment.
She framed his face with her hands. “Honey, you have to listen to me. We can’t be judge, jury and executioner. We don’t have that kind of authority.”
“I do.”
“Not anymore.”
“I have it. I’ve chosen not to use it. We can’t let him continue.”
“What then? You go to jail?”
“Please, Stella. I can arrange an ‘accident’ just as well as this guy.”
“I’m not sacrificing you for him or for anyone else. We have to think of another way,” Stella insisted, and leaned into him to brush kisses over his mouth to prevent him from arguing with her.
She had no idea what it would do to him to have to kill a friend. He’d gotten out of that business. Maybe he was slower than he had been. He might hesitate. Even if he did kill the serial killer and the body disappeared, or his death was deemed an accident, what would that do to Sam? He had finally come to terms with his past. He didn’t need to start all over again. And whatever agency he’d worked for might see this as a sign that he wanted to come back. Or they could blackmail him into going back.
“Stella.” Her name came out a mixture between a growl and a groan. “Sweetheart, let’s get dressed and go for a walk. This is the third night in a row he hasn’t been outside watching the place. Let’s take advantage, unless it’s too cold for you.”
Murder at Sunrise Lake Page 33
