Carlene Thompson - Don

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Don: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Nestled on the shores of Lake Erie, the small town of Port Ariel, Ohio, is a welcome haven for Natalie St. John. Back home for the first time in years, she plans to visit old friends, mend a broken heart, and take a break from her busy veterinary practice. But her peace is shattered her first night back, when she discovers the murdered body of her friend, Tamara Peyton.
Was it a random act of violence…or something personal? The answer becomes clear as Natalie is stalked by the voice of "Tamara," whose terrifying phone calls warn her that she, too, is going to die.
One by one, the people closest to Tamara are being savagely murdered. But neither Natalie nor Sheriff Nick Meredith recognizes the face of the devious killer who walks among them, hiding behind a well-crafted lie. Now, a murderer's deadly act of vengeance demands one more sacrifice-and Natalie has been chosen to pay the price…

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"It's so strange around here," Lily had said. "Dad is alternately raging or morose. And of course we've been graced with the presence of Viveca and Alison. I should be grateful. Viveca has a calming effect on Dad, but her syrupy concern drives me up the wall. And Alison! I don't know how someone manages to be so creepy by doing so little. If Dad marries Viveca and Alison Cosgrove becomes my stepsister-"

"Don't worry about that now."

"I can't help it." Lily's voice raced and shook. "She is just madly in love with Warren. Or whatever she thinks love is. She looks like she wants to tear off his clothes every time she glances at him. It's sickening. I used to tell Tam that Alison was fixated on Warren, but Tam didn't believe me. At least she pretended not to believe me. Even her innocent eyes couldn't have missed Alison nearly drooling over Warren now, though. And don't tell me I'm imagining things!"

"I wasn't going to say anything. Good heavens, Lily, don't get mad at me because you don't like Viveca and Alison."

"I'm not. I just wish they'd go home. For good."

"How's Warren doing?"

Lily had drawn a fresh breath and swept on at breakneck speed. "He seems lost but not out of shock or grief. It's like he's feeling his way along, deciding how he should act based on our reactions. It isn't normal, Nat! Something is wrong where he's concerned. His wife has been murdered, for God's sake, and he just watches my father like a little boy waiting to get yelled at!" She had paused. "If you ask me, it's guilt."

"Guilt for what?"

"That's the question. Guilt for not loving my sister? Or guilt for something worse? Nat, maybe he murdered her!"

Lily had gotten on a dangerous track. Natalie changed directions. "Do you need any help tomorrow? I know Warren will handle the funeral arrangements-"

"No, he won't!" Lily had burst out. "He said he'd leave everything up to Dad and me because we'd do a better job. Better job my ass! The creep just doesn't want to be bothered!"

"Lily, you're really wired," Natalie had said gently. "I'm having my father phone in a prescription for tranquilizers. They'll be delivered and you will take one."

"I don't want-"

"I don't care what you want. You sound like you're going to start screaming."

"My sister has been murdered!'

"I know. I'm not criticizing you. I'm just saying you're falling apart. I want you to take a tranquilizer and try to get some sleep," Natalie had said firmly. "I'll do anything I can to help you with the funeral arrangements tomorrow. Deal?"

"Okay, deal," Lily had said resignedly. "Thank you, Natalie."

After she hung up, Natalie had thought of how strong, how assured she'd sounded. But she didn't feel strong and assured. She was shaken and afraid she wouldn't be the help Lily needed so desperately.

After the call had come her dream, her panic attack, and her frightening trip to The Blue Lady pavilion. After Nick

Meredith rescued her, then lectured her, he had dropped her off at her house, and she'd hoped her father would not be awake. As she tiptoed down the hall, she'd heard him snoring. Thank God. She could never explain this exploit to him. She had immediately unloaded her gun and locked it back in the suitcase. Then she spent the rest of the night awake, coldly shaken by her encounter with someone claiming to be Tam, someone saying they wanted to kill her. What in the world was going on? Who would impersonate Tamara? Who would continue taunting her knowing she was armed?

The next morning Lily called at nine. Natalie had not gotten a moment's sleep. "Still want to help me today?" Lily asked.

"Certainly." Natalie tried to sound alert and as chipper as possible although her eyelids felt heavy. "What do you need for me to do?"

"Well, there's the matter of Tam's clothes. Will you go with me to her house and help me pick out an outfit for burial? And I need to go to the florist to select a blanket for the coffin-" Her voice broke.

"Lily-"

"I'm okay. I stayed at Dad's last night. The tranquilizer helped. I got a little sleep." She took a deep breath. "I left my car with you so would you mind picking me up?"

"Actually, I can't drive a four-speed. I left your car at Tamara's and Sheriff Meredith drove me home. I'll pick you up, then you can get your car at Tam's."

Lily emerged from the Peyton home before Natalie could even honk the horn. When she got in the car, she didn't look like the same lovely, jaunty woman who had picked up Natalie for lunch less than twenty-four hours earlier. Her blond hair hung sleep-flat, her skin was pale, and her eyelids were puffy from crying. She wore jeans and a light shell-pink sweater but no makeup and no jewelry.

Lily didn't need any more worries. "You told me you slept, but you don't look like it," Natalie said gently.

"I slept a couple of hours near morning. I remember it was just starting to get light. Dad stayed up all night listening to music. 'Clair de Lune' again and again. It was Tam's favorite song. She used to ice skate to it when we were kids." She scrutinized Natalie. "You're not looking so well yourself."

Natalie longed to tell Lily about what happened at The Blue Lady. Even during the years when they'd lived in different towns, she'd always called Lily to discuss anything exciting or upsetting. But what could she possibly say? "I went to the pavilion last night and your dead sister talked to me. Actually, she quoted the. Bible and told me she wanted me to be with her"?

"God, Nat, what's going through your mind?" Lily asked sharply. "The look on your face… What's happened?"

"Nothing. I'm just tired."

"You're more than tired. You look scared to death."

She'd been terrified last night and she was still frightened today, but she couldn't tell Lily the truth. Sharing would be a relief for her, but knowing someone was pretending to be her murdered sister would be horrifying to Lily. Natalie wouldn't put her through more suffering. "Yesterday was a big shock for me, too, and I couldn't sleep so I tried to calm myself down with alcohol. I drank too much," she lied. "I felt sick for a moment, but I'm okay now." Lily continued to stare at her skeptically and she changed the subject. "Are you sure Warren won't mind us taking over the funeral arrangements?"

"I told you-"

"I know. You think he doesn't give a damn."

"When you see him, you'll know what I mean."

But Lily looked surprised when they reached the house. Warren opened the door, a hollow-eyed figure wearing an old sweatshirt and a day's growth of beard. He held a coffee mug. The coffee smelled like espresso. Warren smelled like gin. Clearly he'd put in a hard night.

"Lily, Natalie," he said expressionlessly, his shadowed eyes bloodshot. "Thank you for coming to help with Tamara's clothes. I wouldn't have the faintest idea what she should wear. Would you two like some coffee?"

"I would." Natalie didn't really want coffee but preparing a cup for her would send Warren out of the room. When he disappeared into the kitchen, she turned to Lily. "He looks fairly bad to me, Lily."

"Obviously he didn't sleep. And he drank too much, also. But I still don't believe he's feeling real grief."

"Lily the mind reader."

"Well, can't you see that he doesn't care?"

"No."

"You don't know him as well as I do."

Natalie sighed. "Lily, please, just don't give him a hard time today. Tamara wouldn't want you to."

"I'd intended to say as little as possible to the jerk."

Warren reappeared with the coffee and Lily and Natalie went directly upstairs to the master bedroom. A few delicate floral watercolors hung on the creamy white walls and a quilt with a wildflower pattern in pink, peach, yellow, and green covered the king-sized bed. "Beautiful quilt, isn't it?" Lily said almost to herself. "Tam made it, of course. She was so much more artistic than I am."

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