Murder at Sunrise Lake

“You’re exhausted, Stella.” Sam’s voice was gentle. “You’re not getting much sleep, and after the attack on Bailey, you sleep for an hour or two and wake up. You and I both know the FBI can’t catch him because there isn’t any evidence. He’s not leaving anything behind. The most we have on him that even says he exists are the broken fingers. Even the ME would say that’s thin. There’s an explanation for every broken bone.”

“I know.” Stella got out of bed and went to him, breaking pattern. She couldn’t help it. “Sam.” She crawled into his lap, putting her arms around his neck, allowing him to comfort her. “I know both of them. I know I do. There was something about them that was so familiar to me but I just couldn’t pin it down.”

She buried her face against his chest. He felt invincible. His heartbeat strong. His chest like iron. His arms surrounding her, a secure fortress. She just wanted to stay there for a little while and hide. Be safe. Not have to think about losing this round to the serial killer. Not have to think that she might uncover a friend and know that all along he’d been a vicious murderer, capable of walking with someone he knew, knowing he was going to kill him.

Sam’s palm shaped the back of her head and then stroked caresses down her hair. “It’s all right to grieve for him, sweetheart. For the loss of a friend. Whoever he is, he was lost to us the moment he went down this path. He isn’t that same person anymore and we can’t think of him that way. That means, Stella, we already lost a friend.”

“I don’t want to lose two of them.” She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “I’ve failed so many times now. I can’t fail this time. I know the victim. There was something about the voices. The laughter. I can’t say what it was. The lens didn’t stay open long enough, but I know I should be able to identify both of them. And the place they were going to climb.”

She frowned, biting down on her lower lip, trying to remember.

“You need to do what you always do, sweetheart. Draw it. The details come to you. Once you draw it, you can see if anything rings a bell. I’ll look at it as well and then you run it by your posse. They all climb.”

Stella slid rather reluctantly off his lap. He was always warm, and the loss of his heat made her shiver. Or maybe it was just the idea of knowing the serial killer was spiraling out of control. “He seemed so gleeful, Sam. So smug. I hated knowing that he was talking and laughing with a friend of his and all the while he was plotting to kill him. He was taking pleasure in knowing that.”

She slipped back into bed and retrieved her sketchpad, journal and pencils from the safe built into the wall. “He isn’t here tonight. No one is watching us. Or at least I can’t feel him.”

“I can’t either. I did nose around a bit up along the side of the ridge above the bend in the lake, almost directly across from us. I figured if anyone really wanted a vantage point and they knew the property, that would be the most likely place to build a camp. They could stay there indefinitely with the right supplies, rain, shine or even snow, and be somewhat protected.”

“Great. I thought you’d already discovered his hiding place after Bailey was attacked.”

“That was too easy. I considered how intelligent this killer is and factored that in along with the idea that he was obsessed with you.”

Stella shuddered. “I’d rather not think about him being fixated on me, Sam.”

“I know it sucks, but when you considered the timing of your first nightmare, it really was around the time we started cementing our relationship. It is possible the killer saw us together and didn’t like the way we were looking at each other. Or the way I was looking at you, at least. Sometimes I don’t hide my feelings for you as well as I should.”

She had pulled the covers over her legs, but at his last statement, she fisted the blankets and blinked at him. “Man.” There was a lump in her throat she was afraid she might choke on.

“Woman.” His voice was so velvet soft it caressed her skin.

“You don’t look at me openly like you’re wild about me. You hide your feelings very well. It’s me that gets a little crazy when I’m drinking. I … say things.”

His smile started slow and her stomach did a little somersault. Then the smile actually lit up his eyes and she melted inside. He did that to her so easily now.