Lake of Dreams Read Free Page A

front door. Startled, Thea stood very still. A cold knot of fear began to form in her stomach. She had no idea who could be at the door. She had never been afraid here before—the crime rate was so low that it was almost nonexistent—but abruptly she was terrified. What if a vagrant had watched her unload the car, and knew she was here alone? She had already checked in with her mother, to let her know she’d arrived safely, so no one would expect to hear from her for another week or so. She’d told her mother that she intended to stay about two weeks. She could be murdered or kidnapped, and it might be two weeks or longer before anyone knew she was missing.
    There were other houses on the lake, of course, but none within sight. The closest one, a rental, was about half a mile away, hidden behind a finger of land that jutted into the lake. Sammy What’s-his-name’s family had rented it that summer when she was fourteen, she remembered. Who knew who was renting it now, or if someone hadn’t bothered with renting and had simply broken in.
    She hadn’t heard another car or a boat, so that meant whoever was on the porch had walked. Only the rental house was within realistic walking distance. That meant he was a stranger, rather than someone belonging to the families they had met here every summer.
    Her imagination had run away with her, she thought, but she couldn’t control her rapid, shallow breathing, or the hard pounding of her heartbeat. All she could do was stand there in the bedroom, like a small animal paralyzed by the approach of a predator.
    The front door was open. There was another screen door there, but it wasn’t latched. There was nothing to stop him, whoever he was, from simply walking in.
    If she was in danger, then she was trapped. She had no weapon, other than one of the kitchen knives, but she couldn’t get to them without being seen. She cast an agonized glance at the window. What were her chances of getting it open and climbing out without being heard? Given the silence in the house, she realized, not very good.
    That hard double knock sounded again. At least he was still on the porch.
    Maybe she was crazy. How did she know it was even a man? By the heaviness of the footsteps? Maybe it was just a large woman.
    No. It was a man. She was certain of it. Even his knocks had sounded masculine, too hard to have been made by a woman’s softer hand.
    â€œHello? Is anyone home?”
    Thea shuddered as the deep voice reverberated through the house, through her very bones. It was definitely a man’s voice, and it sounded oddly familiar, even though she knew she’d never heard it before.
    My God, she suddenly thought, disgusted with herself. What was wrong with her? If the man on the porch meant her any harm, cowering here in the bedroom wouldn’t do her any good. And besides, a criminal would simply open the door and come on in, would already have done so. This was probably a perfectly nice man who was out for a walk and had seen a new neighbor arrive. Maybe he hadn’t seen her at all, but noticed the car in the driveway. She was making a fool out of herself with these stupid suspicions, this panic.
    Still, logic could only go so far in calming her fears. It took a lot of self-control to straighten her shoulders and forcibly regulate her breathing, and even more to force her feet to move toward the bedroom door. She stopped once more, still just out of sight, to get an even firmer grip on her courage. Then she stepped out of the bedroom into the living room, and into the view of the man on the porch.
    She looked at the open door, and her heart almost failed her. He was silhouetted against the bright light beyond and she couldn’t make out his features, but he was big. Six-three, at least, with shoulders that filled the doorframe. It was only her imagination, it had to be, but there seemed to be an indefinable tension in the set of those shoulders,