11. Sounds like a serial killer’s perfect start to the day!
Eleven
SOUNDS LIKE A SERIAL KILLER’S PERFECT START TO THE DAY!
Liv
Adeep rumbling purr slowly brings me back to reality. Paws push rhythmically against my side until a heavy weight curls and settles against my back. Eyes still closed, I reach behind me and scratch Sunny on the head.
I thought a new environment would scare him, but when I got in last night, he was lounging with his head and most of his upper half hanging off the top of the cat condo.
I couldn’t say how he didn’t fall off—cats are strange like that.
He greeted me, opening one eye lazily, before rolling over and going back to sleep.
I didn’t sleep at all. The bath might have relaxed my body, but it didn’t relax my mind. My mouth is dry as a desert, and my eyes burn from going to bed later than I’m used to.
Soft light filters through the curtain on the door to the outdoor patio, and morning birds are chirping outside the window. This is nothing like waking up in the city.
Manhattan has its own way of waking up in the morning.
The city is mostly quiet, with the distant sounds of cars, shops opening, and trucks rumbling around, picking up garbage or making deliveries.
Occasionally, someone will call out to someone else on the street.
Early mornings in the city are nice, but this—the songs of birds, the shadows of the trees and bushes beyond the window, the quiet of the room—is unlike anything else.
I roll over and look up at the ceiling, the fan spinning silently. Sunny chirps and stretches his paws out in front of him before pulling them back to his body and rolling onto his back. Belly up, he reaches out again as I place my hand on his tummy.
Normally, I’d wake up on a weekend and bury myself in work, focusing on getting things done and moving through my to-do list to avoid the string of potentially negative thoughts that could easily flood my mind.
Add in that the information from the PI should be here any day, and the need to get moving—get my mind working and fixating on something else—is strong.
But I’m supposed to be on vacation. So, now what?
I look over at my computer, sitting on the dresser that doubles as a television console.
The itch to organize the project management boards for next week is strong.
Nope, don’t do it. Cori is capable.
Without the flights of stairs to go up and down every day to burn off energy, I’m going to need to get some exercise while I’m here. Viv and I have brunch at 10:30, so I have tons of time to kill. Maybe a walk along the lake would be nice.
I pull on some shorts and a loose-fitting cropped long sleeve.
Sunny’s hot on my heels, meowing and curling around my ankles as I head into the bathroom. I rub my eyes and wash my face before slipping on my glasses and pulling my hair into a messy ponytail.
With Sunny’s breakfast poured into his bowl and the water renewed, I give him a little butt scratch, grab my phone, room key, and mini pepper spray keychain—a girl can never be too careful—and head out.
I’ve texted Viv, but she hasn’t responded. I don’t dare knock on her door. Vivian Scott, woken up when she’s not ready to be woken up, is a bear I’m not interested in poking.
The great room is quiet when I walk through.
Morning light bathes the space in a soft glow, and tiny particles of dust dance in the rays.
The sputtering and grinding of the coffeemaker is the only noise, sending freshly brewing coffee smells wafting throughout the room.
Mmmm... I am coming for you when I get back, coffee.
The French doors open silently onto the back patio. Instantly, I’m overwhelmed with the fresh air and the fragrance of the hydrangeas. The air is cool with an undercurrent of warmth that promises rising temperatures later.
The birds are chirping, little bugs are buzzing and—holy shit, is that an eagle? I watch for a moment and then pull out my phone to snap a quick pic.
Zipping the phone back into the pocket of my shorts with my room key and pepper spray, I make my way down the wide stone steps toward the path that follows the lake.
Gravel crunches as I walk. It’s the only sound aside from the sounds of nature. I only mildly regret not bringing my AirPods to listen to music or a true crime podcast. I didn’t want my hearing to be impaired this time. For all I know, mountain lions lurk between these trees.
After about fifty yards, the path dips into the tree line, though the lake is still visible on the left through sparse trees and bushes.
To the right is a small expanse of woods.
It’s shady, and speckles of morning sun dance along the ground as the gentle breeze rustles the leaves.
Crickets sing and birds chirp. It’s serene.
I’m so focused on the nature surrounding me that I didn’t even realize the thoughts of work, losing the EdenReed opportunity, and my depressing love life that were spiraling on a continuous loop had quieted.
I look out toward the lake. Little ripples of water keep disrupting the surface—fish, I assume, but otherwise, the water is as quiet and still as glass.
All these years, this kind of peace existed somewhere. I’ve only ever known city life. The sounds of honking horns, bicycle bells, delivery trucks, and people bustling about have been my lullaby for as long as I can remember. This, though, is quiet, alone, and entirely new.
Hang on a minute. Just how alone am I?
My eyes dart in every direction—woods here, lake there, nothing out of order.
Except, I've listened to enough true crime to know this is the perfect situation for an assailant to surprise, abduct, assault—or worse! My heart rate spikes. The fear that I’ll never lay eyes on friends and family again consumes me as goosebumps pebble across my skin.
I shake my hands out, opening and closing my fingers.
I will myself to calm down. I’m being slightly irrational, and also, incredibly aware that I’ve gone far enough down the path now to wonder if anyone would hear me scream.
What did Holly at the desk say? Does this trail open to the public at some point?
What’s stopping someone from wandering in and torturing an unsuspecting woman first thing in the morning?
Sounds like a serial killer’s perfect start to the day!
The minutes pass with nothing concerning, maybe the occasional squirrel, but that’s about it. I’m ready to laugh at myself for being so absurd when I hear the faint crunching of gravel.
I can’t see it, but I can hear it. Someone is coming.
They’re coming closer with each passing second from some distance around the bend in the path.
What am I supposed to do? Do I jump into the woods? Should I turn and run? Does whoever it is know I am here, too? That’s silly. How could they? As quietly as I can, I unzip my pepper spray from my pocket and flip its lid off for quick and easy access, just in case.
My mind is racing, my heart is racing, and before I can even think straight, whoever is coming at me rounds the bend sooner than I expected. Screaming, I reach my arm out, close my eyes, and begin spraying pepper spray everywhere and anywhere.
“Oh, shit!” a familiar male voice rings out.
I let go of the nozzle, opening my eyes to find Luke Huffman ducking off to the side of the trail, covering his face with his arms.
Oops.
“You tried to pepper-spray me!” he yells, uncovering his face.
“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! Did I get you?”
Luke pulls his headphones from his ears. “You nearly did! Scared the crap out of me too!” he fires back.
“Well, why are you coming up on women alone on a trail?” I yell. My heart won’t calm down.
“I was walking to the house! It’s not my fault you were walking alone!”
Oh. “You don’t live at the house?” My mind wanders back to the night before and how he dropped us off. He didn’t park the truck to stay.
“My cottage is down the path that way. I live on the property, just not in the house.” He points behind him. The dirt road off the driveway that I noticed when we arrived yesterday flashes back to mind. Makes so much sense.
Luke pushes a breath through his teeth. “Why are you out here so early anyway?” he asks, wiping his forehead with his forearm. The muscles in his arms bunch and flex. “I thought vacation was for sleeping in.”
“I needed to burn off some energy and thought a walk would help.” My eyes dart to the side of the trail. He doesn’t need to know how I spend my downtime, consumed by spiraling negative thoughts.
“Vague.” His hands are on his hips as he assesses me.
“It’s not vague. It’s true.” I mirror his stance.
“Mmm… It’s kind of vague. Never questioned how true it was though.”
Sensing more information isn’t forthcoming, Luke nods. “Okay, I’m gonna head up to the house.”
I’m torn here—I don’t think I want him to go, but I can’t exactly ask him to walk with me because… why would I? I’m certainly not interested in him… like, at all. “Okay, I’ll see you later.” I slip past him and continue down the path.
I make it only a few yards before—
“Actually, Trip. Maybe I should walk with you. Can’t have that trigger-happy finger pepper spraying a poor unsuspecting squirrel for living its best life.”
“Hilarious.” I try to ignore the way my stomach flutters with a pleasant coil of emotion as he slides up beside me.
“One can never be too safe, you know. It’s very dangerous out here. Pinecones can drop from the trees at any moment.” Luke ducks his head, looking around at the trees and the ground like he’s wary of all the dangers.
“Mountain lions,” I supply.
“Mountain lions? No, they haven’t been in this area since, like, the 1800s. The scariest thing out here is your good old-fashioned gray squirrel. Very dangerous. Have you seen their teeth? Those beady little eyes? Or those tiny furry pointed ears? Terrifying.”
“You’re a clown,” I shove him playfully. He chuckles, but his hard, muscular body hardly moves. Is this man made of rock?