Page 3 of Her Property

Cat looked out over the sparkling lake.

Meditation.At this point, she’d try anything.

She glanced side to side as if someone might be watching, but of course there was no one around for miles. She was all by herself on the deck of a giant house on a quiet lake. In the middle of nowhere. Cat sat up straight and took in a deep breath. Then she closed her eyes and let it out. A breeze whirled through the trees, making the leaves rustle. She pictured them twirling and spinning off the branches down to the lakeshore below.

It almost felt good.

Then she heard the splash.

Her eyes blinked open. There was a loon that liked this lake; she’d been watching it here and there, wishing she could be as calm as the serene bird as it slid across the lake.

But that splash was too big to be the loon. Cat stood up and went to the railing, squinting in the late afternoon sun.

There was someone in the water. A head bobbing as muscular arms propelling the swimmer’s body out into the lake.

Who the hell went swimming at this time of year? Even though the sun was warm, cool air nipped at the places where her bare skin was exposed. The water must beicy.

It had to be the notorious neighbor.

Alfred was right, he was nuts.

She watched him turn, his agile butterfly strokes bringing him across the water with impressive speed. She wracked her brain, trying to remember the details, wishing again that she hadn’t glazed over in the car when Alfred had been talking about him. She glanced over at the neighbor’s dock; wider than the one at Alfred’s. It looked like it could hold a crowd of kids.

The neighbor was the grandson of the original owner, and he wanted to fix up the old summer camp on the property. Yes, that was it. He’d been doing work and Alfred had gone to the municipality to get a stop work order, claiming a land dispute.

It was more than a dispute, though. Alfred was suing him.

The dark head in the lake disappeared. She scanned the water, but it was still; the only movement a ripple on the surface from a passing breeze.

A full minute passed. Catherine’s chest got tight. Had he frozen to death? Should she call 9-1-1?

Seconds ticked by. Cat leaned over the railing with her hand over her eyes, her heart thudding in her chest.

Then a splash out in the water. Her eyes jerked up.

There, practically halfway across the lake, was the neighbor’s head again, the splash of arms bringing him back across the water. She let out a long breath, relief flooding through her. Then on its heels, irritation, sharp as a knife blade. That lunatic had been submerged for what felt like at least two minutes, though maybe she’d lost track of time.

She watched as the neighbor covered the distance to the dock in half the time it had taken him to swim in the opposite direction underwater. When he reached the dock, he hoisted himself up the ladder in one smooth movement.

It was only when he turned in her direction that she saw that he was completely naked.

The empty mug in her hand slipped from her grasp and shattered on the balcony deck at her feet. Cat gasped, still shocked from the landscape of wet, slicked skin and muscle… and the dark thatch of hair between his legs. Without thinking about what she was doing, she dropped to the ground, stumbling backwards. She threw her hand behind her to keep herself from falling all the way onto her back, and her palm sunk onto a jagged shard of broken pottery.

Cat sucked in a breath and looked down. Half the mug was embedded in her hand. She yanked it out too quickly to wonder if it was the right thing to do. A thick wave of blood followed. The wound was big. Too big. Her hand gushed with blood. She pressed it against her other hand, feeling her vision go fuzzy at the edges.

Shit. Catherine Jones, Associate, Killer in the Courtroom, was going to faint.

Jake

Jake bent down and grabbed the towel at his feet, holding it over his crotch. He’d heard the crash of something breaking from the direction of the Jones property and looked up in time to see a person dropping below the cover of the wood balcony rail. Anger quickly replaced his embarrassment at being spotted in his birthday suit. He was being spied on.

Clumsily, too.

It wasn’t Alfred Jones himself, of that much he was sure. He only came up on the weekends. Plus, he didn’t think Jones could move that fast. He’d been wheezing like an accordion the last time he’d seen him. Jake had almost been worried for the guy. Until Alfred had slapped the envelope into Jake’s hands.

“See you in court,”Jones had said as he lowered himself back into his Porsche. He’d driven off in a flash of expensive silver, leaving Jake standing stunned in his driveway.

“Hey!” Jake hollered. “I saw you!”

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