“Sure, eleven-thirty good?”
“Yes.”
Laken didn’t think eleven-thirty would ever get there. The morning dragged on forever. At twenty after, she left her drafting table and went to the ladies room to freshen up and steel herself for the confrontation. At twenty-five after, she strode up Kathy’s desk.
“I’m so sorry, Laken, I just tried to call you. Mr. Hoster hurried out a couple minutes ago. He said he had an important meeting and wouldn’t be back until Monday.” Kathy sounded genuinely upset. “I tried to tell him you wanted to talk to him.”
Laken’s stomach churned. The snake! He had avoided her on purpose — she had no doubt. Her heart pounded with frustration. “Can you set me an appointment for first thing Monday morning?” She ground the words out.
“I’ll make it nine-fifteen. He’s usually here by then,” Kathy answered.
Of course, Laken thought, not like her eight o’clock or earlier. “Thanks.” She forced out a weak smile. The smile faltered as she noticed the newspaper lying on the corner of Kathy’s desk. In a flash, Laken saw the face looking up at her as the killer’s hand reached down. Laken staggered. Lights slashed through her mind. Buzzing rang in her ears. For a minute, she thought she would faint. Kathy must have thought so too because the next thing Laken knew, Kathy had her by the elbow, directing her down to the chair.
“You should never have come in today,” Kathy was saying.
“No, I’m okay. Sorry.” Laken drew in a deep breath and reached for the newspaper. “The woman.” She couldn’t get any more out, starring down at a picture of the woman in her nightmare.
“Oh, that. Mr. Hoster dropped the paper on my desk as he left. I was just reading it. Scary.” Kathy looked over to her in concern. “Did you know her?”
“I think I’ve seen her before.”
“She worked in the building across the quad. And, actually, she wouldn’t have lived far from you. She was killed only a couple blocks from her apartment.”
The word killed hit Laken like a blow of ice, chilling her to the bone. “How was she killed?” She knew with a sick dread what the answer was going to be.
“Stabbed. Listen, I think you’d better head back home. You look really pale again.”
“I’m fine. Do you mind if I look at the paper a minute?”
“No, go ahead.” The secretary handed it to her, still looking her over.
The article didn’t say much more than Kathy had told her. Except the body was found in an alley not far from where Laken lived, and the police were looking for anyone who had information about the attack. Images poured through her mind in vivid detail: the chase, the fear, the exultation of the hunter. Laken’s heart pounded in her chest bringing with it a wave of nausea.
“Laken, are you all right?” The words finally got through to her.
“Yes, but I think I’m going to take your advice and leave now.”
“Good. Get some rest and don’t come in Monday if you don’t feel all better.”
“I’ll be fine, and I’ll be here for the appointment.” The only way she would miss it was if she were dead. A shiver went through her, and she took one last glance at the newspaper.
Laken really had planned to go home when she gathered her purse and jacket, but when the bus stopped in front of her she turned away and started walking. Her mind locked on a vision of the murder as it played over and over. No conscious thought came to her about where she was going or what she was going to do until, over an hour later, she found herself standing in front of the old, gray brick building of the police station.
“No, no way,” she said to herself as she placed a foot on the step. She couldn’t walk in there and say she had seen a murder in her dream. They’d think she was a wacko who got kicks harassing police, or plain psycho and she’d find herself locked up in mental ward. She tried to make herself turn as she took the next step, but then the image of the woman in the paper came to her mind and she took the last three. At the door, she paused again and almost had won the battle to turn away, when a man came out and held the door for her.
Laken swallowed hard and managed to step inside. She felt sick again. She shouldn’t be there. Heat waved over her. She should be home in bed, instead of being ushered through a metal detector.
She stared around the large lobby, not sure where to go or what to do. To the side of the door was a large staircase, next to it a set of elevators. Chairs filled with people lined up in two rows, backs together, in the center of the room. Directly ahead sat a tall, hardwood counter; several uniformed officers stood behind it.
“May I help you?” one officer said directly to her.
She managed to pull her resolve around her and step forward. “I think so.” She forced a swallow as her voice shook. “I’d like to speak with someone about the murder.”
“Which murder?” the man asked off-handedly.
How many murders did they get? Laken almost asked, and then decided she really didn’t want to know. “The one in the paper, the woman who was stabbed and left in the alley.” Funny, she couldn’t think of the name but would never forget the face.
Table of Contents
Love on Loch Ness
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
About the Author
Also From Astraea Press
Love on Loch Ness Page 18