Murder at Sunrise Lake

“We’ll try again another time. I’m hoping to come into town tonight. Maybe I can text you to see if you’re available to meet up,” Stella offered, knowing both women had to work. That was why they had planned to meet for morning coffee.

“Working a night shift tonight. So is Shabina,” Harlow said. “We’ll meet up though, no worries.”

Stella felt terrible for lying. This was how it started. Lying to her friends. Suspecting Sam just because he walked like a predator. Did she suspect him? Not really, but she couldn’t just dismiss the fact that he was capable of murder. But wasn’t everyone? No, she didn’t think so. Not everyone.

She hung up after apologizing again and then texted Zahra, asking her if she had time for lunch. Zahra Metcalf worked at the hospital as an administrator, so she spent most of her time in meetings, figuring out where to spend any money they managed to get their hands on. Stella knew grants were exceedingly important to the hospital. Grants, donations and fund-raising bought up-to-date equipment for the hospital and ensured they had enough doctors and nurses for the emergency room as well as the hospital itself. It was small, but the hospital was very well-equipped. It had to be. They were a good distance from any other help. Zahra was the administrator who ensured the money flowed to the hospital. She was astute and incredible at finding grants and securing them for their hospital. She was very good at thinking up fund-raisers and oversaw executing them, getting the entire county involved.

Harlow had a hand in those as well, although there was something between Zahra and Harlow that neither woman ever talked about. They were always friendly but not super close, which didn’t make sense. Harlow had helped Zahra escape from an arranged marriage in her country. Her mother had gotten Zahra a visa and a good job and then eventually citizenship. Zahra never talked about any problems with Harlow, and Harlow never talked about a problem with Zahra. Stella had too many secrets of her own to pry.

Zahra could meet her for lunch, which was perfect. Stella glanced at her watch. She had plenty of time to drive around the lake and look for any spot that might resemble what she’d drawn. She had been around Sunrise Lake numerous times, but it was a big lake and there was no way she could remember every single section of it.

When the snowpack melted, it fed the river and creeks that ran into the lake, which was why it was so cold. The main road leading around the lake was narrow and two laned, paved but chewed up with potholes all year round. The snow and ice kept the asphalt from staying smooth. No matter what was done to protect it, the road disintegrated into mostly a dirty, muddy mess.

Stella tossed a few water bottles into her 4Runner, opened the back for Bailey, waited for the Airedale to leap in and then went around to the driver’s side. Her 4Runner was a working vehicle, equipped for every kind of weather. She had enough money to ensure her rig was going to perform no matter what she ran into.

She had the sketchpad with her, although she was fairly certain the murder scene was etched into her brain, never to be erased. She took the main road leading around the lake, but there were a few dozen small dirt roads that branched off, leading down to the shore, and she explored the first six in a row that were the most well traveled. If the fisherman was camping at her resort, he might stick close to the main resort, but if he was a local, or one of the regulars who came often and fished the various lakes, who knew where he would have his favorite spots?

She turned down the first dirt feeder road. It was bumpy and not well-known. Only the locals used this road when they wanted to fish here. The brambles were overgrown, but she could see tire tracks in the dirt. Someone had been through recently, not that it meant anything. If her nightmares held to what they had done in the past, she had another day, possibly two, before the killer struck. That didn’t mean the murderer wasn’t scouting out his victim right that minute.

She stopped her 4Runner right in the middle of the narrow dirt road, opened the hidden console in the middle between the seats and pulled out her Glock. She had a concealed carry permit, just to be safe, and she was a very good shot.

“All right, Bailey, we’re loaded now,” she said softly as she glanced in the rearview mirror at her dog. “You ready for this?”

The Airedale had gone on alert the moment she pulled out her weapon and loaded it. She eased her rig into gear and once more started slowly down the narrow lane toward the lake. There was a slight bend in the dirt track, and when she rounded the curve, just ahead, she could see two vehicles— one a dark grayish-green truck, the other a dirty navy SUV. She recognized both rigs.