Murder at Sunrise Lake

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. There 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.