Murder at Sunrise Lake Page 13

  An assassin sent to kill Sam wouldn’t have known ahead of time that he would have been out at the campsite she’d chosen to set up in order to prevent a murder. Sam hadn’t mentioned the possibility because it wasn’t a possibility.

  “There was no way for an assassin to know Sam would be out here, Raine,” she pointed out logically. “It isn’t like he fishes on a regular basis.”

  “Unless they were already following him or watching him, which is a possibility,” Raine persisted. “I’m just saying, you might need a conversation, Stella.”

  Stella nodded and took another sip of hot chocolate. “Thanks, Raine. I do appreciate you talking to me about Sam. You know I’m cautious about relationships. We’ve been dancing around each other for two years now. I’ve always been attracted to him.”

  “Anyone could see the chemistry was there,” Raine admitted with a little smile. “The rest of us were taking bets on whether or not you were secretly sleeping with him and just not admitting to it.”

  Stella’s eyebrow shot up. “Really? No, I was careful. I didn’t want to ruin what we had. Besides, he had to make the first move.”

  Raine shook her head with that little smile still on her face. “How was he supposed to do that when you were so closed off?”

  Stella couldn’t deny that she had been. She was pretty closed off to everyone.

  “But he made his move?” Raine prompted.

  Stella nodded. “He’s indicated that he’d like something more.”

  After what both Raine and Denver said about Sam possibly being one of these ghosts and on the run, how could they have a real relationship? That left out the possibility of a real future. He would have to be able to pick up and go at the first sign that someone had found him. She loved her resort. She’d made a home here and she’d worked hard for it. She loved the Eastern Sierras. There would never be children if they wanted them, because they couldn’t run with children. Sam hadn’t once indicated there would be a problem. She definitely needed to talk to him.

  “I’m going to bed,” Raine said. “Thanks for letting me say my piece without getting upset, Stella.”

  “Thanks for caring enough to say it.” Stella knew Raine was worried about risking their friendship, but she’d still gone ahead, stating her worries.

  Stella sat for a long time by herself while the flames in the firepit died down to red ashes. Clouds drifted overhead, occasionally blocking the moon and then moving on. She kept scratching Bailey’s ears and head, and then petting him until she finally was so sleepy, she had to retreat to her tent.

  * * *

  —

  Vienna got a call first thing in the morning. James Marley, a local, hadn’t come home nor did he answer his cell. He was seventy years old with four children, three sons and one daughter. He had seven grandchildren. He called his grandchildren every day even if it was only for a few minutes. He often took them fishing—his favorite pastime.

  James had gone fishing the morning of the attack on Sam and hadn’t been heard from since. His daughter, Sadie, had gone looking for him when he hadn’t checked in as he always did. She’d gone to several of his favorite fishing sites and eventually found his truck, but she hadn’t found him. She called her brothers and they dropped everything and came at once, searching the area and the lake close to where his truck was but couldn’t find him. They alerted the sheriff, who called Search and Rescue.

  Stella waved Raine and Vienna off, telling them she would break down the tents and take them back to the resort. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Had the killer swum straight from Sam to James and murdered him? How far away had James been from Sam’s location? She had no idea. She felt guilty. It hadn’t occurred to her that the killer might simply abandon one victim for another. She hoped she was wrong and James was just off somewhere, but she knew better. That terrible feeling in her gut told her he was the first victim of the serial killer right there in her beloved community.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Stella sat in her favorite egg chair, which hung from the ceiling of her porch overlooking the lake. This time of evening, all the boats were in and the marina was quiet. Most of the people were in the cabins for the night. A few heavy partiers were going strong, which always gave her some concern. Alcohol and water didn’t mix, especially at night. If one of those partying decided to go for a swim on his own, or just walked into the lake, she would be notifying the sheriff in the morning of another drowning.

  It was bad enough that James Marley was still missing. Vienna and her rescue team, including Sam, had gone out two days in a row searching the lake for him. Stella didn’t want any other deaths happening, especially if they were preventable.

  The lake temperatures were unexpectedly low, even for the time of year. She warned those going out in boats and those fishing, but the partiers sometimes insisted they were “like polar bears” and could run into the lake naked. The two cabins making so much noise had been giving her headaches for several nights. She was happy to know they would be leaving for their homes in the city in two days. Once they were gone, they were closing down and breathing a sigh of relief that the season was over. They’d have a respite for a while.

  “I will be glad to see the last of them,” she murmured, rocking her chair gently.

  Sam turned his head slightly to follow her line of sight. “I’ve had Patrick and Sonny keep an eye on them at night and I’ve made sure to do extra rounds myself. We’ll get them out of here in one piece.” The two security guards were still working the night shift together, but as soon as the last of their guests were gone, the temporary guards would head home and Sonny would take the night shift and Patrick the day shift.

  Sam wore frayed jeans with a dark, loose cable-knit sweater. She could see the top of his dark tee under the sweater. His jacket was open, showing the thick Sherpa lining. His hair spilled down onto his forehead, just a little unruly, and his eyes gleamed at her in the darkness. He looked the way he always did, and yet different because now she was even more aware of him.

  “You don’t ever get much sleep. You aren’t a security guard, Sam.”

  “I don’t need much sleep. I never have. It’s just a thing with me since I was a kid. Drove my mother nuts.”

  He’d never once mentioned his mother, but then, until the other day, she’d never mentioned hers. She figured now was as good a time as any to bring things out in the open.

  “Sam, I don’t like to pry into your past, that belongs to you. It’s just that a couple of people have mentioned something to me that is a little concerning moving forward . . .” She drifted off.

  She detested this kind of conversation. She preferred that he volunteer his past the way she had, not have it forced out of him. Still, she didn’t want to hand over her heart to him and then have her world turned upside down. Maybe it was already too late. She’d opened herself up to him in ways she hadn’t even to her friends, and it terrified her.

  His dark eyes moved over her face with that surprising gentleness that he seemed to reserve only for her. “Woman.”

  “Man.” It was an automatic reply.

  “Woman. Don’t exasperate me.”

  She found herself laughing in spite of the seriousness of what she felt. “Someone suggested that you might be something one called a ‘ghost’ and that you were on the run from the government. You did ask me to pay you under the table and you told me you had certain skills. Granted, I didn’t ask you if you were thinking in terms of just having sex together or if we were considering more of an exclusive, permanent relationship, but I guess I was thinking along those lines. I don’t let people into my world and I wouldn’t just for sex. I mean, I might have sex with you, without all the heart-to-heart.”

  She wasn’t good at this, not when she didn’t want to question him in the first place. She had no trouble broaching any subject when she felt it was necessary, but thi
s felt wrong—as if she listened to gossip and was demanding answers from him.

  “It’s just that, if it was the truth, and these people are hunting you, Sam . . .”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know how these bullshit rumors start, sweetheart. People like to be in the know and they make shit up just to be important.” There was the merest hint of derision in his voice. “If government agencies want to track a person down these days, they can pretty much do it. Even someone with my skills will eventually get caught. Yeah, I worked for the government, but I’m in good graces with them. Not always so much with myself. Sometimes it’s hard to sleep at night. As for the agency I worked for, they know where to find me. Occasionally, they still ask if I’ll help them out. I always say no and they respect that. I’ve done my time. They aren’t going to send some young assassin after me. It makes for a good movie, but it isn’t reality.”

  Stella hugged her knees to her as the egg chair swung lightly. The moonlight spilled over the lake, highlighting the surface so that it appeared to gleam like glass. The night could have been peaceful had the music from the two cabins not been blasting loud. The conversation would swell, riotous laughter would bounce across the water to her porch and then the sound would be muffled, as if the partiers had gone inside, or closed the doors for a moment.

  Sam leaned on the railing, arms across his chest, legs stretched out, looking relaxed when she knew he was aware of everything around him. Maybe that was what made her feel safe. Bailey pressed close to him. From the very beginning Bailey had accepted him, and her dog accepted few people as family.

  “As for the two of us and what we’re building together, I hope we’re on the same page. I want a future with you in any capacity I can get it.”

  Stella’s stomach settled nicely. Denver had been drinking when he’d given his theory about ghosts and Sam. He didn’t usually drink that much, and it hadn’t stopped him from being his usual friendly self with Sam the moment the two of them had to confront Sean and Bale when they were hurling insults at Shabina on the dance floor. Denver seemed to forget all about his dire warnings after that.

  On the other hand, what had Raine said? Raine wasn’t given to fantasies, but then she hadn’t actually said Sam was one of those people or that the government was looking for him. She had said it was more likely he had enemies looking for him, enemies made while working for the government. That did make sense.

  “You don’t mind being with a woman who occasionally might suddenly have nightmares and tell you there’s a serial killer on the loose?” She tried to make light of it, but there was a sudden lump in her throat and her stomach hurt like hell. Raine thought Sam might have enemies, but she wasn’t any prize. She would always have the curse of knowing if a killer was too close.

  Sam moved then, in that slow, fluid way he had, straightening from the railing, covering the scant few feet separating them to stand with his legs right up against the egg chair so that all movement ceased. He bent down, framing her face with his large hands, looking her right in the eye. “I told you, Stella, and I meant it. I’ll take you any way I can get you. You accept me the way I am. It doesn’t bother you that I’m a little broken myself. You don’t need me to talk all the time. You just let me be. That’s a rare gift. You’re a rare gift.”

  His thumb slid over her lower lip, a barely there caress, but it was intense and intimate, just like every touch with Sam. Maybe she fell so hard for him because Sam knew who she really was, not the mask she hid behind, that person she’d created. He knew all of her, even the panicky, ugly parts, and he seemed to accept those in her.

  She didn’t know who leaned first. It could have been her. He was that compelling. The next thing she knew, she was on her feet, her body tight against his, her mouth welded to his, his hand on the back of her head, holding her still while fire flared bright and hot and out of control.

  No one had ever kissed her like Sam. The world disappeared and the only anchor she had was her fists clutching his shirt. There was something beautiful and surreal that went with that rush of fire, every nerve ending in her body responding to him, coming alive for him. She was alive. The real Stella. Little sparks of electricity seemed to leap all over her skin to arc over his and jump back to her. She felt the pull of him. The way her body went boneless and she seemed to melt into him because the fire had gone that hot.

  Sam lifted his head first, his arms steadying her. “Let’s take this inside before we can’t stop, Stella.”

  She wasn’t altogether certain she could walk on her wobbly legs, but then she didn’t need to. He just swept her up easily, cradled her against his chest and carried her inside. Stella wasn’t certain if she actually floated into the bedroom or he really carried her, but she did know there was a fire roaring in the pit of her stomach and molten lava rushing through her veins by the time he set her down. Her hands were desperately trying to find the hem of his T-shirt to pull it off him. She needed skin-to-skin contact. He was always so warm. Hot. A raging fire to match the one inside her.

  Then she had what she wanted—what she needed. Just the two of them. Finally. She should have known he was just the way he was outside the bedroom. In charge. Patient. Skilled. Generous. Demanding. He believed in burning slow and raging fiery hot. He was intense and thorough and very Sam. He didn’t say a lot verbally, it was all with his body, and he was very good at talking that way. And he said everything she needed and wanted him to say and more.

  * * *

  —

  Stella leaned on the railing and stared out over the lake. Bailey, the treacherous dog, was with Sam, which didn’t really surprise her. She should be happy that Sam walked the property so much, making certain drunken partygoers didn’t fall into the lake and drown. He didn’t let them take out guns and shoot at the sky in some bizarre celebration.

  Sam didn’t like dealing with the guests but he could repair anything. He would never see to the taxes or business end of the resort, but he would make certain security was tight and everything was running in top condition. If the roads needed plowing, Sam would get it done. She had come to rely on him in a short time without even realizing it.

  She had always loved the night and never felt in the least bit nervous or anxious when she was alone until her nightmare had woken her. Sam had helped alleviate that, but for some reason, she felt a sudden chill go down her spine and goose bumps rose all over. It felt the same as at the fishing spot, when she thought someone was watching.

  Straightening slowly, Stella walked to the stairs and whistled for Bailey. He would come to her the moment he heard that whistle no matter what. She’d just feel safer knowing he was close. She inched her way into the shadows, wishing she’d brought out her night binoculars. She didn’t have the porch light on, but that didn’t mean if someone was out there they wouldn’t see her even in the dark. They could have night-vision binoculars just as easily as she could.

  She waited, growing more and more uneasy. The minutes seemed to creep by slowly. If there was really someone out there, Sam would know. He had some kind of sixth sense about that kind of thing. He hadn’t been at the campsite when she’d felt eyes on them. What if someone had harmed him? What if he was lying somewhere hurt right now? Or in the lake? The cold water? Her imagination was getting the better of her and she had to stop. Bailey would be sounding the alarm.

  She took several deep breaths. She had trained for this. She knew how to use a gun. She was trained in self-defense. She could use a knife if necessary, or at least do her best to defend against a knife attack, knowing she would get cut. Preparing for those situations didn’t always transfer to the reality of the circumstances. She hoped they would.

  She backpacked and climbed and she trained for those sports. She particularly loved bouldering. She was careful to keep her body in good shape and to do her best to know what she was doing when she climbed. She didn’t just decide to hike a mountain, she trained f
or it. Stella hoped that same care she applied to her backpacking and climbing also went into her training for any situation she might run into when it came to self-preservation. She went to the gun range twice a week. She had an instructor in hand-to-hand fighting as well as a weapons instructor she trained with three times a week. Hopefully the running she hated and all the fitness work she put in morning and night would stand her in good stead against an attacker.

  Bailey suddenly burst out of the darkness, rushing up the stairs to press his nose against her. The relief she felt was tremendous. She dropped both hands into his fur and crouched down beside him. “Baby, you came back to me. Where’s Sam? Is he all right?”

  “Right here, sweetheart.” Sam’s voice was soft, coming to her out of the night.

  He wasn’t on the porch, rather down below it, just looking up at her through the rails. He didn’t look out of breath, but it was clear he had either run or jogged to get back to her.

  “Someone’s out there watching me. I can feel him,” Stella warned, certain of it, keeping Bailey between her and the open just in case the watcher had binoculars.

  “I believe you’re right,” Sam said. “I can’t locate him and neither can Bailey.”

  She was grateful he didn’t try to coddle her. She would have hated that. “Could he be on the water? In a boat?”

  “It’s possible. He could be in any one of the little rocky coves that look straight at this house if he’s got binoculars. Or he could be in one of the cabins. Bailey went with me several times around the empty cabins, checking them, but we didn’t find anything.”