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  Marissa took a deep breath and felt as if the men outside the car were doing the same. She clasped her nearly numb hands but didn’t close her eyes. Eric might motion to her—she needed to see. Nevertheless, bitter wind stung her eyes shut for a few seconds when the men slowly, carefully opened her car doors, a move Marissa knew could change the car’s balance one fatal inch. Someone slipped a sturdy arm around her waist. “Don’t stiffen up, Marissa. Try to relax against me for a minute,” Eric murmured in her ear, and she felt better knowing he was the man holding her.

  The slender man leaned in the opposite open door and gripped the belt crossing Marissa’s lap. The burly man stood in front of the car, clearly watching for signs that it was sliding out of control.

  “Now,” Eric ordered. Instantly the men began to serrate the seat belt’s tough nylon—nylon that had saved her and now might cause her death. Wind blew and the spindly tree creaked. Marissa silently begged that the tree would hold for just a few more minutes.

  The men worked frantically for less than a minute before the tree cracked sharply, the sound seeming to echo through the frozen night. Eric roared, “Get away from the car!” His arm tightened around her and he pulled with tremendous force, completely cutting off her breath. They rocketed back from the car, landing on a soft bed of snow, Eric heaving for air beneath her, Marissa—too shocked to cry—lying motionless on top of him.

  Eric managed a raspy shout to the man who’d been on the opposite side of the car: “You okay over there?”

  “Yeah.” The man gasped as he scrambled through the snow, escaping the area of the vehicle. “But the car—”

  “There it goes!” the burly man yelled as Eric rose up on one elbow, still holding Marissa in a near-death grip as they watched the Mustang smash through small brush, rip frozen vines from the ground, fling snow from its tires and under-carriage, and finally roll almost gracefully into the icy water of the Orenda River.

  2

  Two hours later, Catherine, James, and Eric sat in the Grays’ large family room. The Emergency Services team and the backup police had arrived just minutes before Marissa’s car rolled into the river. Eric had ordered the deputies to take the truck driver’s statement, deliver him to a local motel, and offer to verify to the man’s company on the phone that the wreck was not the driver’s fault. The man’s hands still trembled and the semitruck cab sat askew, the cab half-buried in the earth and snow, but he’d still helped to save Marissa. Eric had wanted to help the driver all he could.

  Catherine had accompanied Marissa to the hospital in the ambulance while James and Eric took separate cars. An hour later, Marissa had calmly endured X-rays and a CT scan to check for a concussion and given blood to be tested for drugs or alcohol. Catherine looked as if she was going to faint with relief when doctors determined that miraculously Marissa had suffered only a battered but unbroken nose, and strained shoulder muscles and tendons.

  Upon hearing the news, Marissa had loudly demanded to go home. When the doctor told her that would be “inadvisable,” she burst into a deluge of tears. Finally, everyone had given in to her roller-coaster emotional state, she’d signed her forms to leave without medical consent, and James drove her and Catherine to the Gray house.

  The other deputies had told Eric that headquarters was a zoo on this icy night with all the drivers who had collided with telephone poles and mailboxes. Along with them were two competing sets of teenagers who’d decided to try their skills at breaking and entering on a night when so many people were at parties, which left their homes empty. Police had apprehended the amateur teams and now both the young burglars and their enraged parents faced the crimes with maturity and dignity by yelling at one another and at the cops. Given the chaos at headquarters, Eric announced he would accompany a still weak, panicky Marissa to take her statement about the wreck in the peace and familiarity of her home.

  Back in the safety of the lovely house where she’d lived most of her life, Marissa could hardly believe that less than two hours ago she’d been trapped in her Mustang and hanging on the bank of a river with someone jostling the car, trying to send it into the dark, frigid waters of the Orenda. Now she sat on a heavily padded couch in the warm family room of the Gray home, huddled in a floor-length heavy white velour robe. Catherine had insisted Marissa wear the pair of giant fuzzy white slippers with rabbit faces and floppy ears she knew were Marissa’s favorites. She’d also wrapped Marissa in a blinding neon red and yellow afghan made by their grandmother. Marissa could see herself in a mirror across the room, though, and in spite of all her colorful insulation, she still looked pinched and frozen.

  Tonight, the big room with its calming cream, cinnamon, and soft dusky blue color scheme looked like the scene of a party. Lighted Christmas wreaths hung at every window, and tinsel and lighted candles decorated the mantle of the large cherrywood hearth in which a cheerful fire burned. In what usually was a corner now towered a huge pine tree glittering with countless miniature lights and the lovely, fragile ornaments and decorations Annemarie Gray had collected throughout the years. As Catherine bent to light two large candles on the coffee table, James said, “Catherine, the room looks beautiful, but I’m afraid we’re going to have a fire hazard if you light another candle.”

  Catherine glanced around her. “Oh. Well, maybe I am overdoing it, but it was so cold and dark on that bank and it seemed we were there for hours. I can imagine how poor Marissa feels.”

  “I’m still cold, but I don’t think I’ll thaw out until around daylight no matter how many candles we light.” Marissa tried to smile at everyone, embarrassed by her less-than-poised crying jag at the hospital. “I would certainly like to have a drink, though.” She looked at Eric. “It’s all right for me to have alcohol now that my blood has already been drawn for testing, isn’t it?”

  “It would be if you weren’t taking pain pills,” Eric said mildly. “Alcohol and pain pills don’t mix.”

  Marissa glared at him and James added loudly, “Marissa isn’t the only one who’d like a drink. I’d love to have a Scotch and soda or a bourbon and Coke or…well, anything!”

  “Of course. I’m so used to Mom taking control, although I’m glad she’s not here tonight….” Tears rose in Catherine’s eyes and she nervously fluttered off toward the kitchen, yelling back, “I think we have booze of every kind. Oh! What a thing to say with the chief deputy sitting right here! I sound like we’re running a roadhouse. It’s just that we bought extra liquor for guests and people give bottles as gifts.” She paused. “I didn’t even ask what everyone wanted. Marissa, where are the cocktail glasses? I thought Mom kept them…damn!” A kitchen cabinet door slammed.

  “I think our hostess needs some help.” James stood up. “Marissa, what would you like?”

  “A Coke,” she said glumly.

  James smiled warmly. “Fine. Eric?”

  “I’m still on duty. I’m afraid it will have to be coffee,” Eric said politely. “Instant will be fine.”

  Marissa and Eric were old news in the romance department. Four and a half years ago, she’d worn an engagement ring given to her by Eric. Most of Marissa’s life, her closest friend had been Eric’s younger sister, Gretchen—a sweet, quiet blonde who lived for music. Her talents had begun emerging when she was barely more than a toddler. She played the violin and the piano and sang. Gretchen had already begun her concert career when at age twenty-one she died from a fall in the church on Gray’s Island—a fall Eric and Marissa had both witnessed.

  Immediately after Gretchen’s death, Eric’s lighthearted buoyancy, his irresistible charm, had vanished. He’d been on the fast track in Philadelphia law enforcement but came back to Aurora Falls to be near his shattered parents and join the Aurora city police in a much less prestigious position than he’d held in Philadelphia.

  And he’d broken off his engagement to Marissa.

  At first, Marissa had felt numb after what had been a crushing blow. For years, everyone had expected Marissa Gray to mar
ry Eric Montgomery. Marissa’s mother had begged her to give him time to straighten out his emotions, to not close the door on their romance, but Marissa knew Eric too well to believe a few months or even a year would set things right. So she’d applied for a newspaper job in Chicago. The hours had been long and the pay had been bad, but she hadn’t cared. All she’d thought about was that with Eric back in Aurora Falls she must leave.

  After two years, she’d told herself she’d completely recovered. She came home only at Christmas and for a week each summer. Her father had died of a heart attack during her second Christmas visit. Eric attended the funeral with his parents, but he and Marissa hadn’t spoken and had even avoided each other’s gazes. When she’d realized she couldn’t even look at him without feeling as if a fist were squeezing her heart, she knew she hadn’t gotten over him at all.

  Still, Marissa wondered if the Eric Montgomery she’d loved existed anymore. Over the years, she had gotten calls from friends in Aurora Falls and she knew Eric never attended parties, hung out with old friends, played tennis with his father, or took his mother on the motorcycle rides that used to set her screaming and laughing with fearful joy. If he dated, no one in town knew about it.

  People said his breezy handsomeness had disappeared. He still had the strong, classic facial features, of course, but most of the time he looked thin lipped and solemn; on bad days he appeared almost forbiddingly grim, his face rigid, a permanent furrow between his eyebrows. She wondered if his devilish smile and killer dimples still existed. He’d lost the mischievous, almost rakish glint in his dark brown eyes. He still wore his wavy blond hair a couple of inches longer than most men his age would have, but the Eric she’d known seemed to have disappeared. Even when he was staring right at you, you felt as if the essential Eric Montgomery was lost somewhere in the mists of time with Gretchen.

  Now, in the smothery, overly decorated room, Marissa floundered for the kind of thing she would say to someone she’d known so long, but she felt as if a pane of thick glass separated her from Eric. He saved her embarrassment by not looking directly at her. He was withdrawing a pen and small notebook from his jacket when fifty pounds of blond love, warmth, and happiness bounded into the room carrying a small stuffed teddy bear. The dog jumped up on the couch beside Marissa, who hugged her and rubbed her ears.

  Eric looked up from his notebook and allowed himself a small smile. “You’re still a dog lover, I see.”

  “This is Lindsay.” Marissa giggled as the dog dropped her teddy bear long enough to give Marissa a sloppy lick on the chin and carefully sniff the gauze and tape paramedics had applied to Marissa’s bruised but no longer bleeding nose. “I got her at an animal shelter in Chicago about two years ago and named her for Lindsay Wagner, who used to play the Bionic Woman on television. She’s exuberant and has a passion for stuffed animals, as you can see.” Marissa smiled as Lindsay the dog snatched up her teddy bear again and gave it a good shaking. “This house is full of her toys.”

  “She looks like a good dog.” Eric sounded stiff although he still wore that small, tight smile. “I’m sure she’s a lot of company when Catherine isn’t here.”

  “When I came home this summer, Mom fell in love with Lindsay.” Marissa could feel a wave of desolation at the thought of her lost mother and looked down at the golden dog cuddling next to her. “She is a smart, loving, very special girl.”

  Eric nodded slowly, then said lightly, “Oh, Marissa Gray, I’ll bet you say that to all the dogs.”

  After a jarring moment of surprise, Marissa glanced at Eric to see a hint of his old, familiar grin. Eric Montgomery, man of little humor, had actually been teasing her. Marissa felt as if the wall of glass between them had just developed hairline cracks. She was so startled she simply looked at him and blessed Catherine, who came chattering into the room carrying a tray of drinks and snacks.

  “This isn’t the usual way we take statements,” Eric said seriously a few minutes later, his eyebrows drawing down toward the line between his eyes, the charming smile vanishing, “but considering your insistence on getting home, Marissa, it will have to do for now.”

  Marissa caught his disapproving edge on the word insistence. People in Aurora Falls often talked about Eric’s demand for proper protocol. He lacked the casual authority of Sheriff Mitchell Farrell, so popular and admired he’d been elected sheriff time after time since Marissa’s childhood. Three months earlier, he’d turned over his duties to Chief Deputy Montgomery before going home to die of cancer. Although many citizens didn’t like Eric’s cool formality, Sheriff Farrell’s confidence in Eric’s abilities earned their confidence, if not their affection.

  “I’ll need you to come to headquarters on Monday morning for something more formal, Marissa,” Eric went on almost sternly, as if he thought she wouldn’t cooperate.

  “I’ll be there,” Marissa replied coolly.

  “Okay, start at the very beginning, when you were headed for the Addisons’ house.” Eric’s voice was courteous but businesslike. “Catherine said you were late and probably going to drive too fast.”

  Catherine flushed and looked at Marissa. “I didn’t say you would go too fast, just that you might because you were late.”

  Marissa felt a prickle of annoyance with Catherine but kept her expression pleasant. “She always worries that I drive too fast,” Marissa said to Eric. “The weather was bad, though, and I wasn’t going to take any chances just to reach Evelyn Addison’s house on time. I drove below the speed limit.”

  Eric nodded.

  “By the time I neared the place where I wrecked, the snow had increased and I slowed down to thirty-five miles an hour,” Marissa continued, her throat tightening. She looked at Lindsay, who was trying to tuck the teddy bear under the afghan. “That’s when I saw…something. It climbed across that icy guardrail so easily! Then it walked into my lane, stopped, and stared at me.” Marissa raised her eyes and looked at Eric with near defiance. “It seemed to be daring me to hit it.”

  Catherine, James, and Eric stared at her. Marissa thought even Lindsay, who’d successfully hidden her toy, was looking at her with especially probing dark brown eyes. “Well, it’s true!” Marissa burst out defensively.

  “Are you certain someone didn’t run in front of you and freeze?” Catherine asked Marissa, and then quickly turned to Eric, speaking as if she were explaining a child’s behavior. “The snow was obviously worse than Marissa had expected and she got frightened and confused and couldn’t see clearly. Someone must have just run out in front of her and froze.”

  “That is not what happened,” Marissa snapped.

  Everyone’s gaze fastened on Marissa again as Eric said, “But visibility was very poor. With all that snow and your headlights on low—I presume you know to turn your headlights on low so they won’t—”

  “Refract light on the snow and half-blind me. Yes, I know that, Eric, and my headlights were on low beam.”

  “But you still say you saw a person.”

  “It wasn’t just a person stupidly trying to cross the highway in a snowstorm. It was someone dressed up like a Halloween ghoul who climbed the guardrail and deliberately stood in front of me!”

  “I see,” Eric said in the careful voice one would use with a hysteric.

  Her own tension and the doubt she saw in three pairs of eyes suddenly made Marissa flashingly angry with everyone in the room. She glowered at James and Catherine, then fastened her gaze on Eric and burst out, “You’re all looking at me like I’m crazy, but I’m in full possession of all my faculties just as I was minutes before I had the wreck. That’s why I am certain, Mr. Chief Deputy, that someone walked onto the lane of a highway, then deliberately stopped in front of my car!”

  Before Eric could answer, Marissa drew a deep breath and continued, seething, “You also might remember, Eric, that I have twenty-fifteen vision.”

  Eric tilted his head slightly and said coldly, “I do remember that, Marissa. I remember very well that you have abov
e-average vision.”

  Oh God, Marissa thought. Her excellent vision—how she’d mentioned it to the police when Gretchen died, how little attention they’d paid, how she’d had no time to make them acknowledge its importance. Her throat tightened, and for a moment she didn’t think she could continue talking to Eric. Then she made a decision. She’d failed to convince everyone of what she’d seen then. She wouldn’t fail now.

  Marissa drew a deep breath. “I just had my eyes checked two months ago and my vision is still twenty-fifteen. That’s why I believe you can trust the accuracy of my description of this ‘person of interest,’ as you cops say, in spite of the bad weather.” She looked straight at Eric and spoke firmly. “The man—I assume it was a man—was tall. He wore a long, dark, coat—by long I mean down to the ankles—with the hood up. The coat was shiny—obviously made for wet weather. Very long, ragged dark and white hair hung to his chest from beneath the hood.

  “Inside the hood was a mask,” Marissa charged on, even though she could see Eric wanted to ask a question. “The mask was loose and rubbery, something that completely covered the head, not a little plastic thing held on by a string around the back. The eyes in the mask were huge, made to look like deep holes in the skull.” She paused. “Actually, the mask looked a lot like the one the killer wears in the movie Scream, but not exactly. I couldn’t see the person’s eyes at all at that time. I did see him walk into my lane and take a stance, legs slightly apart.” Her voice began to tremble. “It—he—made absolutely no move to evade the car. He just stood motionless, staring right at me.”

  Marissa ended with another glare at Eric, then turned her gaze to Lindsay and gave her ears such a vigorous rubbing the dog yelped. Marissa murmured, “I’m sorry, baby,” and laid her head on the dog’s neck so no one would see the tears flowing into her eyes.

  Another wave of uncomfortable silence washed through the room. All Marissa heard was the crackling of the flames in the fireplace, and humiliation filled her. Was she five instead of twenty-five? Temper and tears. Lord. She couldn’t raise her head and look at anyone.