Page 16 of Silent Heart

The aluminum stairs were slick with dew, and could use pressure washing. I picked my way carefully down the steep descent. Sure enough, as I burst onto the dock, leaping off the last steps, I saw the lights. Kole’s house shimmered.

It was after midnight and every light on the property glared in defiance of the moon.

“He’s going to have the Lake Owner’s Association banging on his door for disturbing the natural beauty and serenity of the community,” I muttered.

I shouldn’t care. Whatever Kole was doing was his business.

So why did I clutch the squishy float attached to the boat key? My left foot took a step toward the speedboat.

This is madness.

I argued with the mental voice. “I’m just going to creep over there and see if it’s a party.”

The skin on the inside of my wrist flickered with heat.

I refused to acknowledge the real reason I climbed into the boat, using a paddle to navigate away from the dock before turning on the trolling motor to putter away. I might be a thirty-something woman but sneaking out of the house silently was ingrained in every fiber of my being.

It wasn’t until I inched closer to the mansion that I paused. A dark shape stood on the end of the dock, staring at the lake. The shadows were too heavy to see the features properly. But there was no mistaking the person. We might be of an overwhelming Germanic and Scandinavian heritage here in the upper Midwest, but that man was built differently.

The speedboat crept closer.

I swallowed hard. The phantasmal spot on my wrist sizzled, shooting a deadly concoction of desire and daring through my body.

Kole looked…good.

“Screw it,” I muttered. Why shouldn’t I have a little fun? Granted, accomplishing my goals was a journey, but every path had detours. So long as I hopped back on track by the end, I should be enjoying the ride.

So many metaphors.I rolled my eyes at myself.

An unconvincing excuse about night fishing ready on the tip of my tongue, I angled the prow and closed the distance. Kole stood unmoving as I pulled the boat alongside the dock.

“Hi there, neighbor,” I beamed. “You wouldn’t happen to be interested in a little fishing, would you? The walleyes are biting.”

Silence pulsed.

I frowned. Even when he didn’t say much, Kole wasn’t this stony. Unable to read his face from the boat, I clambered onto the dock, tugging the fishing pole. I held it out to him, but he didn’t make a move.

If it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest, he might actually be a gargoyle he stood so still.

“Kole? Are you okay?” I asked gently.

His rigid posture was answer enough. Something was off.

I moved closer, realizing with growing horror that he was in a kind of trance. While his eyes roved about, clearly tracking me, it was as if they didn’t see me.

“Kole? Can you hear me?” I pressed, reaching out to him, but then thinking better of it. My hand dropped to my side. “Kole?”

There was no response.

If I had any sense, I would have turned around, jumped in the boat, and sped away. Hell, if I had sense, I wouldn’t be here in the first place, so I shook off the niggling of warning.

My tone dropped to the soft, lyrical cadence I used when dealing with animals. “I’m going to touch you, is that alright?”

Slowly, I made my intentions clear. His wary gaze never left me as I reached out and laid my fingers on his wrist. A moment packed with uncertainty passed. Kole didn’t jerk away, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“There we go.” I smiled. “Why don’t we go inside, yeah?”

He didn’t protest as I drew him along. A list of potential reasons as to what would make such a large creature this docile ticked through my mind. It could be some kind of shift in mental state. There was no smell of alcohol, and he didn’t swagger or sway. Each step was sure and carried the full weight of his body with precise balance. So it wasn’t something he’d consumed. No, it had to be mental. It was possible he had a traumatic brain injury that led to periods of lost consciousness. Or maybe a chronic illness? But the range of possible ailments in a human weren’t things I was familiar with.

---