“I just don’t think he’s onto you.”
“That’s what Sam says, but why not?”
“Because how could he be? It isn’t like you’re that same person.”
“Maybe he went to high school with me. I can’t have changed in looks that much. I’ve never run into anyone I went to school with, but it’s possible they saw me and I didn’t see them.”
Shabina sighed. “Honestly? I didn’t think of that.”
Stella bit down on her lower lip. “Do you have any idea how many people come here to climb or backpack? There are a million things for people to do and it’s so beautiful. We get visitors all the time. I’m always busy during the season. I wouldn’t notice someone from those days, not when my foster mother had cancer and a serial killer was on the loose. My world was falling apart again.”
“You told me the serial killer has to be someone you’ve physically come in contact with or you wouldn’t be having the nightmares. That was one of the reasons you didn’t want to tell any of our male friends,” Shabina pointed out.
“I might have come in contact with someone I went to high school with,” Stella said. She doubted it. In those days, she stayed to herself. She didn’t trust anyone and she didn’t have friendships. If she was face-to-face with someone from her high school, close enough that she would physically touch them, would she remember them? She thought so. Her mind tended to be obsessive about details.
“I want it to be someone from my past, Shabina,” she admitted. “But I don’t think it is. I think it’s someone close to me here. Someone from town. One of the businesses.”
“Like Sean.”
Stella tried to picture Sean as a serial killer. He was incredibly strong. Most of the climbers were, and Sean was a forester. He knew animals, but then again, most of those in the area were hunters. They knew the anatomy of animals.
“What about Edward? What do we know about him? Bale’s the leader of the group, and Jason sort of hangs out on the edge. Sean is an ass, but Edward is right there in the thick of it, yet he is so quiet I overlook him,” Stella said. “He climbs. He hunts. He does a lot of winter sports, right? That’s kind of his thing.”
“He was born right in town,” Shabina said. “I hear everything at the café. He was raised by his grandmother. Still lives in the same house, from what I understand. He inherited it after she died. One of the women in town was talking to her friend at lunch one day— this was a couple of years ago— and she mentioned that he took her back to the house after a dinner date. She said the house was super creepy. There were lace doilies everywhere, that the furniture and pictures and everything seemed out of time, as if nothing had been touched since his grandmother’s day. It was dark, with old heavy drapes covering the windows. She didn’t like the way the house smelled, like old moth balls or something. In any case, she couldn’t relax and ended up going home before anything happened. She never went out with him again.”
“How strange. He seems like a modern man. He’s got all the latest toys and equipment,” Stella said. “His truck, his climbing gear, snowmobile, all of it is the latest and greatest.”
Shabina sighed. “Let’s go for a walk in the gardens. This isn’t getting us anywhere. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
“It was a long shot. I knew it when I brought this to you,” Stella admitted. She followed Shabina outside, the three Dobermans rushing out with them. Inhaling the crisp October air, she took a moment to savor the fact that she didn’t feel anyone watching her. She could relax. Maybe she just needed to move in with Shabina for a few days for some respite.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The body of the hunter, Victor Bane, was found nearly immediately by his brother, Lawrence, who had gone looking for him just before sunset. It appeared as if Victor had fallen from his tree stand and broken his neck. His brother was very confused by the “accident,” as Victor always took safety precautions and wore his harness faithfully.
Lawrence had packed in Victor’s gear himself. Lawrence had been the one to set up the tree stand and see to it that Victor was comfortable and had everything he needed before Lawrence left his brother to his favorite sport. Victor was good at hunting. He was the one who usually provided the meat for winter, and he was proud of his skills. He had multiple sclerosis and it was all he could do to hike and backpack the trails at times, but he did it. He hunted from a tree stand now, but he was still accurate. He never took a shot if his hands were shaky.