by Brenda Hill
A sharp whistle sounded from the lake, and she watched a man in the water gesture to several teenage swimmers. He pointed to a wooden raft bobbing in the water a few feet beyond the shore. When he blew the whistle again, the teens raced to the raft. The young people had their entire lives ahead of them, Lindsay thought, wondering about their dreams, the goals.
“Excuse me,” a male voice said, interrupting her thoughts, the warm velvet tone causing her heart to nearly stop. Galen’s voice.
She looked up. He stood in the glare of the sun, and all she could see was a dark outline. But it was enough. Galen.
Her mouth went dry. How was that possible?
She scrambled to her feet and stumbled. When he helped her and she got a good look at him, she could only stare. Except for his darker hair color and, she noticed, his slightly shorter height, he could be an older Galen.
When he smiled, she began to cry.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, searching her eyes, concern in his expression. “Anything I can do to help?”
She wiped her tears. “I just lost someone dear. You made me think of him.”
“Oh. If you’re okay, I won’t intrude any longer.” He turned to walk back to his RV.
She hesitated only a moment before she ran after him. “What were you going to ask?”
“My name’s Gary, and I’ll be in town for a few days, following up on some genealogy. My sister discovered we had a great uncle, or maybe it’s great-great uncle,” he said, smiling, “who lived here years ago. She talked me into checking it out.”
Lindsay could barely breathe.
“I’m sick of fast food,” he went on, “and I was wondering if you knew of a good place to get a decent meal.”
She smiled. “I do.”
“You hungry? I know we just met, but can I talk you into joining me?”
Silently thanking the fates, Lindsay slipped her arm through his. “Let’s go.”
At three in the morning, a soft breeze wound through Crosby, lifting above rooftops, whispering through trees, fluttering leaves.
From the north, shimmering waves of the aurora borealis danced across the night sky, undulating in luminous streaks of greens, yellows, and pinks.
The air stilled.
Bubbles formed in Serpent Lake in front of the Peterson home. Ripples appeared and spread across the water. With a soft splash, an elongated head rose, gazed in all directions as if surveying its realm, then apparently satisfied, dipped to disappear below the surface. Once more, the lake was calm.
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Thank you for reading The House on Serpent Lake. I hope you enjoyed it.
To see Kahnah’bek’s statue in Crosby, CLICK HERE.
For updates about my new novels, visit my website or blog,
www.brendahill.com
http://brendahill.wordpress.com/
If you like mystery/suspense, please check my other novels:
With Full Malice
Secrets worth killing for …
A paroled sex-offender shot at close range,
pacts made in hidden chambers …
Yucaipa, CA, a quiet community in the foothills below Big Bear, hides secrets – extraordinary people, a deadly secret society.
To what lengths will a desperate person go to protect a loved one?
Ten Times Guilty:
A single mother struggles for worth after a vicious attack…a police sergeant seeks redemption for a crime he didn't realize he had committed - until the victim died.
Beyond the Quiet:
After twenty-five years of marriage, Lisa Montgomery thinks her husband's death is the worst that can happen. Then she receives a notice about his secret post office box.
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
The Intruder
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thiry-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
