CHAPTER Thirty One
On Christmas Eve, the Hargroves always had a party for their employees and their families, and this year was no different.
Camille volunteered Ross and her to decorate using some of the outdoor lights they never got around to putting up. Dan Hargrove was tapping some kegs and smoking some brisket while his wife was finishing the side dishes and desserts. This truly was a magical time of year.
The Hargroves had reaped the benefits of a successful business over the years, and they loved repaying the people who helped them make their brewery and restaurant a success.
Not only would they treat them and their families to a great meal, but Santa would come and hand out presents to the kids, and the adults would all get a little extra in their stockings.
This year had been exceptionally prosperous, so Marla and Dan were exceptionally generous.
“Camille, come here.” Her father motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen.
“What’s up?”
“We want to give you your bonus a little early,” her mom said, handing her the bank envelope.
Camille opened it, and her eyes blinked in disbelief. “Um … this is too …”
“Nonsense! We appreciate you, and you’re our daughter. We can spoil you if we want,” Dan cut in.
“Well, thank you,” Camille said, bewildered as she stared at a check for ten thousand dollars.
“Everyone else is getting more this year, too. But not that much,” Dan said with a grin.
Camille hugged them both and realized she had not been shopping for anyone. She only had her parents, Ross, and Lisa, but still. She had to do it sometime.
Wondering if Ross wanted to go, she headed outside.
“Hey, I’m suddenly painfully aware that I need to do some Christmas shopping. We have a few hours before the party. You wanna go?” “Yeah, sure. Let me finish with this last strand.”
Camille had been thinking about what Christmas presents she and Ross would exchange.
Even though their relationship was very serious, they had only been dating for a few months.
She worried that he would feel pressured to buy her something nice and expensive, and that thought made her anxious.
She didn’t want him to think she had any expectations.
She decided to take the ride to Marion as an opportunity to offer an alternative to traditional presents this Christmas.
Nearly to their destination, it was time for Camille to address the Christmas present dilemma.
“Hey, let’s keep Christmas simple. Maybe do some thrift shopping and have a twenty-dollar limit. Something fun and no pressure.”
Since finding out Ross was rich—really rich—she didn’t want him to think she expected something extravagant. More than anything, she wanted Ross to know she loved him, not his money.
“You don’t want a real gift?”
“I think there’s pressure with Christmas and couples, and I’m trying to avoid it,” she said honestly.
“Okay, I’m up for some thrift shopping.” Ross smiled the way he always did and shrugged his shoulders. He would follow Camille anywhere.
The thrift store on Michaels Street was their first stop, and Camille and Ross were having the time of their lives laughing and picking out silly items for each other.
“This was such a cool idea.” Ross kissed her unexpectedly. That’s what Camille loved about him. He was so spontaneous and carefree.
Camille smiled at him before heading down the opposite aisle to continue her search for Ross’s perfectly silly present.
But when she rounded the corner between the men’s section and home decor, she saw a man, partially concealed by a rack of clothing, staring straight at her.
She didn’t recognize his face, but he had an eerily familiar presence.
Camille instantly got a sick feeling in her gut, yet she couldn’t look away.
She stood there, helplessly gazing into the man’s eyes.
They had a haunting quality that kept Camille focused on their soullessness.
Now, fear and anxiety consumed her, and she had to look away.
But when she looked up only a few seconds later, the man was gone.
Frantic, she ran back to Ross, nearly hysterical.
Ross was now searching the entire store with an intensity that made Camille’s heart beat even faster.
She knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing that was racing through her mind.
Even though the man didn’t look like Shane, Camille knew it was him. Those eyes were unmistakable.
“It was Shane, Ross! I know it was him. The size and height were right. And those eyes! They were evil, just like Shane’s. I’d know them anywhere!”
“Let’s get out of here,” Ross said, leaving their items behind. This whole incident had ruined their Christmas spirit and their good time.
All the way back to Brew4U, Camille looked in her rearview mirror
but saw no one following them, making her wonder if she was just being paranoid.
“There’s no one following us. Maybe I just overreacted,” she said honestly. “No,” Ross replied. “We knew he would be after us. I think this is a reminder that we’re still in danger. Christmas time or not, we are now dealing with serial killer Shane Simpson again,” Ross added.
Safely back at the boathouse, Ross and Camille were coming down from their thrift store experience, and Ross was ready for a little nap. He had finally had his drinking night with Dan the evening before and was feeling a little woozy.
“I’m going to lie down for a bit. This whole thing, combined with a shit ton of beer last night, has wrecked my head,” Ross said, kissing her.
“You nap, and I’ll go help my mom. Guests will be showing up in a couple of hours. If I don’t come back to get ready, just come on up around five.”
“Will do,” he said. “Be careful.”
Ross kissed her goodbye, locked the door, and watched as Camille quickly made her way up the trail to the brewery. He watched until she was out of sight and then headed directly for the bedroom after chugging a big glass of water.
Ross fell right to sleep, but it was a fitful sleep.
Even in rest, his mind was troubled with a horrifying vision.
He kept seeing glimpses of Camille lying on the ground and being dragged into the woods.
He was awake in his dream, but every time he saw her, he couldn’t get to her.
She looked the same every time—lifeless and vulnerable.
After several of these disturbing visions, Ross finally woke, relieved to see that it was all just a nightmare.
But now Ross couldn’t get those visions out of his head, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they had any real significance.
He quickly showered and headed up to the party, anxious to find Camille, who had not returned to get ready.
He knew he shouldn’t be this worried. She’d told him she might have to stay up there and work.
Nonetheless, he would feel a lot better when he saw her.
Once in the event room, Ross’s eyes darted frantically until he saw Marla. He didn’t want to worry her, but he couldn’t hide his emotions.
“Where’s Camille?” His tone clearly conveyed that something was wrong.
“I haven’t seen her for a while. I thought she left to go back and get ready for the party.” Marla’s eyes now had that terrified glassiness. And when Ross left abruptly without another word, she thought she would cry. There was something wrong, very wrong.
Just as Ross was heading out the front entrance to look for Camille, she came in, and she could tell by the look in Ross’s eyes and the look on her mother’s face that something was not right.
“What’s wrong with you two?” When neither said a word, she asked a little more forcefully. “Ross! What’s going on?”
His heart skipped an extra beat, then settled. “Nothing now.” He hugged her. He didn’t want to worry her about his dream and his fears, but it was a little too late to pretend he wasn’t completely freaked out.
“I must have just missed you. I went back to change and throw a few curls in my hair,” she explained. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”
It took a few seconds, but Ross finally gave her a half-hearted smile.
His dream seemed so real, and the repetition of his horrible vision was so ominous.
He hugged her again and kissed her on the cheek, thankful that his worry was a false alarm.
He wondered, however, how much time they had before Shane Simpson made his move, and the thought gave him chills.