The Lake

His hands cupped her breasts; his upturned thumbs stroked her nipples.

Shuddering with ecstasy, she remembered how he liked doing that. How he loved the feel of her skin. Warm, silky, so ultra-sexy, he’d told her.

For a long time Deana stared at the window, at the soft billowing drapes and the flickering shadow of the tree… Thinking about Allan.

Slowly, she undressed, piling her sweats back into the drawer.

Throwing herself onto the bed, she stared at the ceiling for a long, long time, feeling hot salt tears stream down her cheeks.

Allan would always be special to her.

She’d never forget him.

How could she?

“Even when I’m old,” she whispered. “I’ll always remember you, Allan… and cherish the memories of the good times we’ve shared.”

Yeah. The good times.

Before the horror of that night took them all away.

Before Nelson…

No. She’d never, ever, forget Allan.

Some adventure she’d had tonight, though.

Warren was quite a guy.

Bet he did make a mean cocoa.

She smiled…

He had a nice voice. Warm and friendly.

Good teeth, too.

Hadn’t seen much more in the dark.

Maybe, soon…

The mutt would have to go, though.

Deana sighed.

Didn’t get to kill Nelson.

Fuck Nelson. I’ll hack him to death some other time.

With Mom’s vegetable knife…

Oh no!

It was on the sidewalk. With her cap.

TWENTY-FOUR

“Oh God. This gets worse. I’ve gotta go out there and get the knife. Can’t go back now, though. Warren’ll be asleep. And his dog. Fat chance I have of sneaking into his house to see if Mom’s vegetable knife’s in there, with Sabre around.

“Maybe it’s on the sidewalk. Maybe someone kicked it into the bushes.”

No way. An urgent little voice told her the knife was now in Warren’s house. She stared at the curtains, billowing inward. Felt the soft breeze. Sniffed at the air, thinking she’d caught a whiff of Allan’s scent again.

Stop it.

Now!

She let her eyelids droop. Wriggled her shoulders. Relaxed her body right down to her toes. Breathed deep. In, out, in, out…

But her special relaxation technique wasn’t working tonight. She couldn’t get the knife out of her mind.

Mom’s gonna miss her knife. She uses it almost every day.

She’s gonna think that someone stole it.

No way would she think she’d lost it…

She always puts it back in the drawer.

Hope Warren did find it.

Probably took it indoors, intending to return it later.

The knife and my cap.

Doesn’t really matter about the cap.

Idiot. Warren doesn’t know where I live.

Didn’t give him the chance to ask where I lived.

Didn’t want to tell him, either. He could’ve been a rapist.

Nah.

Not with a dog that size. Rapists creep about on their lonesome.

Preying on girls.

Dog like that, a would-be rapist wouldn’t have a victim to rape. They’d be dead with fright, or halfway down the street.

Only one thing for it. Wait till Mom goes to bed tonight, then sneak out.

Again.

If I’m lucky, I’ll catch Warren walking his dog.

Then I’ll ask him if he saw the knife, and did he happen to pick it up. And if so, please can I have it back?

Make it easy on yourself, Deana. Buy a new one.

Can’t do that.

Mom’d notice the difference.

She’d wonder why she’s suddenly got a new knife in place of the old one.

Phweww…

What a tangled web…

Only one thing for it.

Gotta go out there and find Warren.

Sample his cocoa.

Maybe. Whatever. Just get the knife back.

TWENTY-FIVE

Nelson shivered.

It was dark and getting colder all the time.

Blinded by the glare of headbeams, he couldn’t make out where he was walking.

His pirate patch was long gone; his sewed-up eye looked like it had been sucked back into his skull. Hot tears welled up in his good one.

He was exhausted; his head throbbed with a muzzy ache. The tears made everything blurred and hazy. He lifted a hand to dash them away.

Christ, this is one mean mother of a headache…

He’d lost his floppy chef cap, and his tunic was all dirty from when he’d last fallen.

Clutching the hatchet, he held it, blade up, like a rifle on his shoulder. Just having it there gave him a warm, safe feeling.

“Anybody messes with me ’n’ I’ll use it,” he muttered to himself. “Bank on it, you fuck pigs out there; I’ll hack ya t’ pieces, jes’ like a cut a’ meat.”

Nelson stumbled off the sidewalk. Into the path of an old Ford truck. Brakes slammed home. The truck