Heather Graham - Heather Graham Bundle - The Island / Ghost Walk / Killing Kelly / The Vision

She could make out nothing about him, other than the fact that he was tall.

And that he was watching her house.

She sat back quickly in the dark, amazed and, oddly, not as terrified as she might have been.

At least she wasn’t crazy.

She looked out again quickly, realizing that she needed to watch him, needed to see where he went, what he did.

But when she looked out again, he was already gone.

It was then that fear set in.

Had he already moved closer to the house? Was he trying to find a way in…?

Was he out there, closer still, nearly breathing down her neck?

What to do…call the police?

And say what? There had been a man standing on a public street?

She shook her head, got up and suddenly went into speedy motion, running around the downstairs first, checking every window, running through to the back, checking to see that both bolts were secure, then heading upstairs and assuring herself again that all her windows—and the glass doors to the upstairs balcony—were securely fastened.

She was certain she was never going to be able to sleep that night.

She dragged a pillow and blanket downstairs. In the living room, she set up a bed on the couch, then stood still in the middle of the room.

She had lights on everywhere. That was probably stupid—in fact there was no “probably” about it.

But she didn’t want to sit in the dark.

At least she had heavy drapes. Coconut Grove was the kind of place where people walked all the time, where they took out their bicycles and ran with their dogs. She loved living where she did, but she also liked privacy, so her drapes kept her safe from the public eye.

She turned on the television. If she was going to sleep tonight, it would be with the television on and every light blazing. Fine.

As a last precaution, she dragged one of the heavy end chairs from the dining-room table and set it in front of the front door. Foolish? Maybe, but she couldn’t help remembering the skull jumping out at her from the computer, and the words that had been written there.

I’ll be seeing you soon. In the dark. All alone.

She knew she was being foolish. Amber had written the words. She had admitted it.

Still…

Someone had been out there, and there was nothing wrong with being careful.

Finally satisfied, she lay down on the couch, and hit the channel changer until she got to Nickelodeon. There was little likelihood of anything coming on that might scare her into a further fit of unease.

A vintage sitcom was playing, just as she had expected.

She eased her head against the pillow, smiling a little wryly at herself. This was all absolutely ridiculous. No reason to be afraid.

Then something thudded against the front door.

Sharp, hard, startling.

She bolted upright.

“DOWEREALLYHAVETOGOBY Beth’s place now?” Ben asked, puzzled. “I’ll see her tomorrow.”

“I have something of hers, Dad,” Amber explained. “Something—personal.”

He assumed his daughter had taken some of his sister’s female necessities and was in a panic to give them back.

Whatever.

It had been a great night, but he was tired.

“Dad, she’s only two minutes away,” Amber said.

He forced himself to grin at his daughter. “Liar,” he accused with fake ferocity. “It’s at least five minutes.”

“Dad,” Amber groaned.

“All right, all right, we’re going.”

They turned onto Beth’s street, and he pulled his car up behind hers.

He frowned. Something seemed to be lying on the porch. A dark…lump.

“Um, Amber, stay in the car for a minute, huh?” he said.

He opened the gate and hurried along the walkway. His heart sank. It was an animal. Bending down, he saw that it was a cat. A black cat, and one that had evidently been in an accident. Poor thing; it had probably crawled off the street and on to Beth’s porch. Maybe it had somehow known that a softie lived inside, a woman who would have rushed a strange animal right to the vet, no matter what the cost, if the creature had lived.

He hesitated. He didn’t want his daughter or his sister seeing the badly mangled creature.

Amber was starting to get out of the car.

“Stay back!” he told her.

He returned to the car himself and opened his trunk. He tended to keep extra supplies for the boat in the trunk. Paper towels, toilet paper, dish detergent and, luckily, trash bags.

He went back for the cat.

“Dad?” Amber called.

He picked up the dead animal, deciding he would get rid of it without either woman knowing what had happened. “It’s all right, honey. Just a mess of foliage,” he called to his daughter.

He bagged the cat and walked around to the trunk. As he dropped it in, Amber emerged from the car.

With his daughter in his wake, he headed up the steps again and rang the bell. There was no answer. He rang again, then pounded on the door, which flew open.

Somehow, instinct warned him, and he ducked—right before a burst of pepper spray could hit him in the eyes.

“I’m calling the police, you pervert!” his sister swore, just before the door slammed shut.

THEY PULLED THE DINGHY UP to one of the club docks. Matt leaped out first, ready to secure the small boat.

“Nice place,” Keith murmured, following behind him.

Before Lee had even joined them, Keith heard a cry. “It is you!”

Lithe and sleek as ever, Amanda Mason was sashaying down the dock. “How delightful.”

“Amanda,” he murmured.

She hugged and kissed all three of them, as if they were long-lost relatives.

“I wondered when you all would make it in,” she said. She was in a sundress, the kind that showed off the perfection of her figure but also seemed fine for a casual night out.

Her sandals were studded with rhinestones. Her toes were painted perfectly.

“We decided we needed a little civilization,” Lee said.

“Oh, honey, no one ever promised to be civil,” Amanda said. “Come on in. We were about to leave. Thank goodness we waited. Daddy is here, and both my cousins are here tonight, too. It will be just like old-home week on Calliope. Well, minus Sandy and Brad. And I think the Andersons all just went home, too. But come on, Daddy would love to buy you guys a drink.”

“We should buy your father the drink—we’re invading his territory,” Keith said. He wanted to remain polite and friendly, even flirty. But it was difficult with Amanda. A bit too much encouragement and she would be all over a man. Under different circumstances, he might not have minded, but right now, he had business to see to. He had an address, and Lee had called ahead for a car. It should be arriving within the next half hour.

“So, the Andersons just left, huh?” Lee said.

Amanda pouted as if that was the saddest news in the world. “Just a little while ago. Come on.”

She linked arms with Lee and Keith; Matt was left to trail behind.

“Actually, you’re in luck. Do you know who’s here tonight?” she whispered.

“Who?” Lee asked.

“Maria Lopez, the award-winning dancer. If you stick around for our big event—the Summer Sizzler—you’ll get to see a real salsa queen in action.” She shrugged. “An aging queen, but the woman can dance. We’re in the dining room,” she said.

She led them into the dining room, with its teak trim, polished bar, sea-blue carpeting and white marble tiles.

“There they are,” she said.

The three men rose as Amanda returned. They had evidently just eaten. Waiters were clearing the table.

Except…

It didn’t look as if Roger had eaten after all. His spot was crumb free, there were no used plates, and the silver remained wrapped in a linen napkin.