But he’d tipped his hand. Tomorrow, under the pretext of taking the car in to be checked for damage, he’d make sure his forensics people gave it a good going over. A fingerprint. A stray hair, fiber sample. Anything that might give them a clue. And he’d personally search the area by the gate. A footprint, a cigarette butt. Anything that didn’t belong.

Yes, the stalker was here. But now, he was in Harm’s Way.

“Greetings, neighbor,” he grinned. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Elgin smiled warmly. “Of course not, Chad. I hoped you’d drop by. Please, come sit down. Can I get you some coffee?”

“No, thanks,” he told her, taking a seat at the deck table where she’d been finishing a second cup of coffee. “I just came by to give you this.” He brought a small package wrapped in bright yellow paper from behind his back.

“For me? What is it?”

“Open and see.”

She ripped open the paper and squealed with delight when she saw the contents, a pastel drawing of her house as viewed from the lake. About eighteen by eighteen inches, it showed the deck and windows and the trees.

“Oh Chad,” she breathed, “it’s beautiful! I love it!”

“Look on the back.”

Turning it over, Elgin saw he’d written something. “To Elgin,” she read. “The beautiful lady of the lake.”

Crimson rushed to her cheeks. “That’s very sweet, Chad.”

“Well, it’s the least I could do. I gave Marty a whole slew of the charcoals and watercolors I did from your dock and he put them up in the mercantile and he said they all went right away. He wants to know how soon he can have more and he’s already had several inquiries about whether there are any large oils for sale. Marty says the stench of money dying to be spent is absolutely overwhelming.”

“That sounds like Marty.”

“As I told you that first day, I’d like to drive down here with my oils and easel and use your beach and deck to do real paintings. The light on the water and definitely a couple of sunsets. They’re gorgeous from here. I promise you the pick of the litter.”

“You don’t need to do that, I’m happy to have you here. Just drive down and open the chain. But be careful when you get out. We almost had an accident last night coming home from the marina.”

“Oh? Nothing serious I hope?”

“No, nothing like that. It was late and Camp’d had a couple of beers and I’d fallen asleep in the car. I guess he forgot to set the emergency brake properly and when he got out to open the gate, the car sort of rolled down the hill.”

“Are you both all right?”

“Yes, we’re fine. I slept through all of it except when Camp slammed on the brakes to stop us. Now I know how James Bond’s martinis feel. Shaken, not stirred.”

Comstock grinned. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt. That gravel slope up there and that sharp curve…it could have been serious. You should tell your secretary to be more careful. By the way, where is he this morning? Out walking again?”

“No, he said he thought the SUV was fine but he wanted to be sure so he took it into town to have it looked at. Said he had some errands in town and would probably be gone the rest of the day.”

“Excuse me, but I need to avail myself of your facilities. Could I ask you for a quick tour of this wonderful old house?”

“Sure,” she told him cheerfully as they both rose. “Both bathrooms are upstairs. Don’t know why they didn’t at least put a half bath downstairs but they didn’t and I’ve never quite been able to figure out where to put one after seventy some odd years.”

Inside, he stopped to admire the huge stone fireplace.

“God, I love this,” he gushed, gazing around the room. “And this fireplace is magnificent. Now I know I have to paint you a sunset. On cold winter evenings you can sit in front of a roaring fire and remember the beauty of summer.”

“I’m afraid I don’t get up here in the winter. I actually haven’t used the cabin very much since I bought it. Work keeps me pretty busy. This summer trip is the first time I’ve been here in almost a year and it’s the longest I’ve stayed.”

“So what is it you do?” he asked, as they made their way upstairs.

“I’m a writer,” she replied as they came into the master bedroom. “Bathroom’s through there.”

“So what do you write?” he continued, his business in the bathroom finished.

“Nothing you’d be interested in.”

“How do you know what I’m interested in? Come on, tell me.”

“I write women’s erotica. You know. Soft porn for the lovelorn,” she joked lightly but feeling suddenly somewhat embarrassed. “Not exactly Agatha Christie but it pays the bills.”

“I haven’t read any of it myself,” he answered seriously, “but only because I don’t have a lot of time for reading of any kind. Personally, I think it’s terrific that half the human race is finally waking up to their own sexuality and the enjoyment thereof. You’ll have to give me the names of your books so I can get them. Maybe even get an autograph.”

“Check with Marty,” she laughed nervously. “They’re in that little book rack right by the cash register. I autographed a whole bunch of them.”

“Done. I’ll pick up one the next time I go into town.”

He turned and surveyed the room.

“This is a great room,” he told her enthusiastically. “Northern exposure. Fabulous light. Be a wonderful place to work.”

Abruptly, he dropped into the oversized stuffed chair on the wall facing her bed.

“I’d wake up in the morning, sit right here in this chair with my sketchbook and charcoals and draw a sleeping nude in that very bed.”

His eyes locked on hers as he continued. “Black curls rumpled against the white pillow. Childlike face in peaceful dreams. Blankets kicked off during the warm night, soft cotton sheets clinging to her ankles and feet. On her side, facing me. Curves of creamy white shoulders and hips and thighs. Breasts like nesting doves. Black pubic hair and a slit of pink pussy. I’d have to sketch fast to catch her in all her many poses.

“Now she’s turned her back to me, one leg over the other. That beautiful black hair pasted to that white neck by sweet summer sweat. Her backbone a little row of white hills on that beautiful expanse of milky back, tracking down to that lovely, heart-shaped, perfect ass.”

Elgin’s skin prickled as if electricity suddenly charged the air. He sat just out of reach, his implied invitation hanging in the small space between them like a ripe apple. She had only to reach out and take it.

“That sounds lovely,” she said finally, her voice raw with emotion, “and I envy the lucky lady. Too bad I’m so shy. Especially around handsome strangers.”

He rose, closing the gap until he stood over her, his lips so close she felt his hot breath on her cheek.

“There’s no reason to be shy,” he assured her tenderly. “We’re not strangers. Our souls have known each other always. The bodies may be different but I knew you the first moment I looked in your eyes. And you knew it too.”

“Please…” An anxious uncertainty…perhaps even a tinge of fear rippled through her.

His eyes clouded over like thunderclouds and his face grew dark.

“Your ‘secretary’…Harm? Is there…more than a business relationship?”

“No. I mean, not what you think.”

The big body relaxed and the clouds disappeared. “I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to trespass on someone else’s property. But it’s all right. I’d never hurt you. I want you to want me too. We’ll take it slowly, whatever you’re comfortable with. I’ll go down to the dock now and paint and you won’t even know I’m here.

“Maybe though, you’d let me take you to the Lodge one night soon for drinks and dinner. Get to know each other better. Even sit for a portrait…fully clothed for now. Just give me a chance, please.”

Longing and need filled those beautiful eyes, that mouth so sensual, so close. The heat of him rolled over her in waves, making her dizzy and hot herself. It had been such a long time…and he wanted her so much…