Murder at Sunrise Lake

“You started having the nightmares when you were four? And then they really started when you were five. That’s a fact. When he was caught, that came out in the story. He wasn’t caught until you were older, but the nightmares started when you were that young.” Harlow went across the room to one of the shelves and started looking at the cameras she had on display there.

Stella’s heart dropped. She deliberately stayed where she was, close to the window on the opposite side of the room. “Yes, I was five.”

“So, you could have been as young as four when you wanted to take your mother’s picture. You might even have memories as young as three of going to the theater with your mother. Of the ballet. Your mother would have taken you. You would have heard talk, gossip, all the time to reinforce memories of your mother being on boards for various arts. I’ve noticed you retain almost everything. It seems to be a gift you have.”

“It’s a curse,” Stella muttered. “This entire thing is a curse.”

“Not if you can catch him and save lives.”

“I didn’t catch my father, or Miller when I was a teen.”

“You did eventually,” Harlow pointed out. “You couldn’t expect to right away. And you can’t now. You’re going to have to understand that none of these deaths are your fault. He’s out there, and if you didn’t know about him, he would be killing without anyone to stop him. As a nurse, I know I’m not going to save everyone. I’m not. Not even my favorite patients, no matter how hard I try. No matter what effort I put into it. Every police officer has to come to terms with that same thing at some point. Every man or woman in the military.”

“Death just feels … unacceptable to me. I almost feel like I’m being taunted and I fail these people, these very human people with families who love them.”

“I feel the same way. I’m certain most doctors feel the same way. These nightmares you have are simply clues, a way to catch him. He doesn’t know who you are and that you’re already looking for him. Hopefully he doesn’t find out until we have him. That’s the big thing, Stella. Be careful of who you bring into the circle. I know you’re going to be tempted to bring law enforcement in, but if you do it too soon, he’ll disappear. Just fade away. This place is made for that. You have to know who he is before you inform them.”

“I don’t want to be my mother, Harlow. I don’t want to trade my peace of mind for lives.”

“Telling law enforcement too soon would be doing just that, Stella. Think about it. If you tell them, the FBI shows up, the serial killer fades away and you get your world back. He goes somewhere else and kills. No one is the wiser because he has a new playground, making every kill look like an accident, and you aren’t there to tell them any different. He would never stay here. Why should he? Especially if he’s a temporary visitor.”

Stella crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the long bank of curved floor-to-ceiling windows. Of all the arguments to keep from telling Griffen, this was the best because Harlow was right. Stella felt it.

“You’re making sense, Harlow, but then you usually do. Sam doesn’t think I should say anything yet. Zahra feels the same way. I haven’t talked to anyone else about it. I’m considering what to say when I do. I’m going to talk to Raine about the backpacking trails and campsites. She goes all the time with me. She knows the trails even better than I do.”

“I’ve got a couple of cameras that were popular when your mom was young, Stella. I’m going to look in a catalogue and see if there were any knobs on them that look anything like you sketched.”

Naturally, Harlow would do that for her. She was observant and knew exactly how much Stella disliked taking pictures, let alone touching an actual camera. “My mother gave me permission to take her picture. Of course, I had no idea how and she didn’t show me. I just probably played with it, looking at her and telling her how beautiful she was. She smiled at me over and over and then held out her hand for the camera. I gave it to her. Later, when she put me to bed, she kissed me several times and told me she wasn’t angry with me for breaking her camera. I told her I didn’t break it. She said, Remember, you dropped it? And then she kissed me again and told me accidents happen. My father was standing in the doorway and had a frown on his face. She told him not to be so angry, that I was just a little girl. She even flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.”