She’d thought about the email for weeks before she’d finally responded. Her father had never liked talking about her mother or the way her mother had died. Whenever she’d attempted to bring it up, he always said it was a tragedy and that she should try not to think about it. But the older she’d gotten, the less she’d heeded his advice. She’d searched the Carling Lake Weekly online for news on the murder and, talking to Amber, someone who’d known her mother and been around during the time of her murder, just might get her the answers she needed. Karine knew the police theory was that her mother had surprised a burglar. But something about that explanation just seemed off.
She hadn’t told anyone about the email from Amber. Not even her best friend and Carling Lake resident, Omar Monroe. She knew he’d have pressed her to tell the authorities about Amber having reached out to her, and she didn’t want to do that until she knew what Amber had to say. She’d tried to convince Amber to disclose whatever it was she wanted to tell her via email and had even offered to call or video chat, but Amber hadn’t budged.
In the end, curiosity had won out. She’d used some of the vacation time she had banked from years of early mornings and late nights at her investment firm and headed to Carling Lake. She hadn’t told Omar about Amber’s email, but he was aware that she hoped to convince the sheriff to reinvigorate the investigation into her mother’s murder. She’d also known her father would try to talk her out of it if he realized the truth, so she’d told him only that she was coming to Carling Lake to ready the house for sale.
She’d arranged to meet Amber the next afternoon at Amber’s house in an upper-class section of Carling Lake where lots of the rich part-time residents lived. Amber could afford to live there having married then divorced Daton Spindler, heir to Spindler Plastics.
Karine was anxious to hear what Amber knew about her mother’s death that was so important she couldn’t tell her in an email or video chat and why, if it was so important, she hadn’t told the police.
She set the phone aside, swung her feet over the side of the bed, and rose. She was too wired to sleep. What she needed was a cup of chamomile tea to help settle her nerves. Luckily, she’d arrived in town with just enough time to drop off her suitcases and head to the supermarket before it closed since 24/7 shopping hadn’t seemed to have made its way to Carling Lake just yet.
She padded down the stairs; the moon providing more than enough light to guide her. In the kitchen, she hit the switch for the penlight that hung over the stove, but left the brighter recessed lighting off. She’d found an old-fashioned stainless-steel kettle in the cabinet next to the sink earlier that evening and filled it now. While the water in the kettle heated, she stepped over to the sliding-glass doors that led from the kitchen to the back porch and slid them open.
Mr. Hill had rented out the house over the years and it had been several months since the last renter had vacated. She’d left the windows open for several hours after dinner, yet the air inside the house was still stale and heavy.
Karine turned back to the floor-to-ceiling pantry and reached inside for the thin can that held her favorite brand of chamomile tea leaves.
A muscular arm clamped around her waist, yanking her backward. The can clattered to the tile floor, spilling tea leaves at her feet. The scream that ripped from her throat was cut off by a gloved hand.
OMAR MONROE DIDN’T know how anyone could choose to live in a place where they couldn’t see the stars. He’d bought his childhood home from his parents when they’d decided to move to Florida and now he looked up at the dark blue sky rimmed with purple and dotted with twinkling stars. It was breathtaking. He glanced over at the house next door. He had hoped to be home by the time his best friend, Karine Eloi, landed in town, but when he’d arrived, the lights inside the house next door had been out. He knew Karine had arrived, though, by the rented sedan parked in the usually empty driveway.
As a state park ranger, he spent the day just how he liked to spend every day: protecting and preserving the Carling Lake Forest. He’d lost track of time when he’d been out on patrol today. It wasn’t like him, but since he’d earlier discovered several dead birds along a stream and creek feeding into Carling Lake, he’d been taking even more care on his patrols, on the lookout for any abnormalities or animals that appeared to be in distress. He’d noted some concerning issues, enough so that he’d been authorized to conduct water samplings of the stream and creek, looking for pollutants. But those samples had come back clean and, as far as his boss was concerned, that had been the end of it.
But that wasn’t the end of it. Not for him. He knew this forest as well as he knew himself. He’d grown up in Carling Lake, playing in these woods, fishing, camping and hiking with his father. He’d known from a young age that he wanted to become a state ranger. Protecting this particular forest was a job he took seriously, and he’d been overjoyed when the position had opened up four years earlier and he’d been able to transfer from his then position in Buffalo, New York, to his hometown of Carling Lake.
But something was off inside his forest. The town’s economy depended on tourism, but some of Carling Lake’s visitors didn’t realize how delicate the forest’s ecosystem was. Any introduction of outside contaminants, even accidentally, could throw that system out of balance. And if it wasn’t an accident? Ecoterrorism was more prevalent than a lot of people realized. Without knowing what he was dealing with, Omar couldn’t pinpoint a motive or know what corrective steps might have to be taken. He needed to figure out what was going on, and fast. Before irreversible damage was done.
He glanced again at the house next door, determined to make time to spend with his best friend while she was in town. As much time as he could finagle.
He let out a frustrated sigh. It had been six months since he’d last seen Karine. Waiting one more day wouldn’t kill him.
A little ping of awareness in the center of his chest argued the opposite. That ping had been happening more and more frequently. Whenever he talked to or texted with Karine. Whenever he thought about her, which was, he was willing to admit to himself, more and more often. He loved being a park ranger, but it was a solitary profession. He spent a great deal of time in his truck or out patrolling through the forest. Plenty of time for a man to think, and lately the only thing he could think about was Karine.
Karine, his friend, he reminded himself not for the first time. It was only natural that, lately, his mind had turned to her more. She’d turned thirty-five and announced she was coming back to Carling Lake for the first time in twenty-three years to take up her own investigation into her mother’s murder. As happy as he was to have his best friend next door instead of three thousand miles away, he was worried about her desire to delve into her mother’s death.
Omar didn’t pretend to understand what she must feel, having been in the house when her mother was murdered, but he knew she’d struggled with nightmares over the years. Marilee Eloi’s homicide hadn’t been solved, and although it was technically still an open case, there had been no new leads in nearly two decades. He wasn’t sure what Karine hoped to find, but he hoped it wasn’t trouble. No matter what, though, he planned to be by her side through it all.
He took a deep breath of crisp, clean mountain air and tried to settle. The night was quiet, like most nights in Carling Lake. Just how he liked it. Every so often, he’d hear a small animal scuttle across the undersized yard that separated the back porch of his house from the forest beyond.
He swallowed a sigh, burrowing deeper into his lounge chair and taking a long sip from the half-empty beer bottle in his hand.
Relax. You’ll see Karine in a few hours.
His phone buzzed and he knew without looking who it was. Only a few other people in town worked crazy hours similar to his, although his friend was supposed to be packing for his vacation in Maui, which was to start the next day.
Karine has arrived?
Sheriff Lance Webb was his closest friend in town and he’d heard all about Karine, although the two had never met. Unfortunately, Lance and his girlfriend, Simone, were going to be on a long-awaited vacation for most of Karine’s visit.
Shouldn’t you be packing for your trip?
I’m multitasking. And don’t change the subject.
Lance hadn’t said anything explicitly, but Omar suspected he had picked up on his growing feelings for Karine. Ever since Lance had coupled up with Simone, he’d been pushing Omar to find a nice woman and settle down. The idea wasn’t unappealing, but there was only one woman who came to mind wherever Omar thought about making a commitment.
Karine has arrived. I had to work late so I haven’t had a chance to welcome her home yet.
Join you for a nightcap?
How sweet of you, but I’m exhausted.
Not me! Her. Ask her to join you for a nightcap.
I think she’s already gone to bed. The lights in the house were off when I got home.
The sound of something crashing jolted him from the text conversation with Lance.
A scream, loud and terrified, had him on his feet, tucking his phone into his pocket as he did, jumping over the porch railing and darting for Karine’s house in an instant.
It only took seconds to assess the scene in front of him. A masked man. A terrified Karine clawing at the arm around her neck.
“Let her go,” Omar growled, stepping through the open sliding-glass door.
Karine’s eyes widened, fear radiating from them.
The masked man’s eyes narrowed. He locked his arm tighter around Karine’s neck, drawing a pained squeak from her.
It was only the possibility that Karine could get hurt in the scrum that kept Omar from launching himself at the intruder.
