Until Dark - Mariah Stewart [42]
Easing her canoe into the narrow waterway that would take her home, she tried to focus on the gentleness of the morning, the soft bird sounds, and the greening up of the undergrowth. Last night’s rain had left behind a slight mist that the morning sun had all but burned off, and the patches of sunlight and shadow on the water pleased her eye and soothed her spirit. In spite of her disappointment at finding so much activity in the Pines that morning, she felt refreshed. The muscles in her arms stung slightly from not having worked a paddle for close to a week, but other than that bit of discomfort, she was feeling refreshed by the time she approached her property line.
The first thing she’d do was to make that sign she’d promised herself.
She dragged the canoe onto the soft bank, stepping aside as Lola jumped past her and took off, returning reluctantly at Kendra’s command. The canoe resting against the side of the barn to dry, Kendra unlocked the back of the house. Insisting that Lola accompany her, she went inside, refilled the dog’s water dish and grabbed a bottle of chilled Deer Park from the fridge while on her way into the study.
She’d prefer a more permanent wooden sign, but for today, she’d have to be content with something makeshift. Temporarily, a message in black marker on a piece of cardboard nailed to the tree would do. She searched the closet and found a cardboard box from which she cut the lid. In block letters she printed NO TRESPASSING on the cardboard and held it up to admire. It would serve the purpose just fine.
She found a nail and hammer in the tool box she kept in the back entry, and tucking the sign under her arm, went back outside, Lola at her heels. The dog cast a wary eye at the barn, but stayed close by Kendra, even when Kendra waded into the shallow part of the stream to nail the sign to the section of tree trunk that would be most visible from the water.
“There,” she said to Lola. “I’d say that’s pretty clear, wouldn’t you?”
She waded back toward the narrow clearing when something fluttering in the light wind caught her eye. A scrap of fabric had been tied to a low branch of one of the shrubs that grew along the bank. Knowing that it was not uncommon for the canoers or kayakers to mark their way along the streams by tying something onto the trees or bushes so that they could find their way back, and harmless as the scrap was, she left it there, thinking that whoever had tied it there, could have picked a more noticeable color. That pale, slightly faded green would be difficult to spot. Had the wind not brought it to motion, Kendra wouldn’t have seen it at all.
She flipped on the small television in the kitchen while she made lunch, after which she discovered Lola had a fondness for green grapes. She was just tossing one into the air for the dog to catch when “News Week in Review” came on. The opening segment promised news about the Soccer Mom killer who was stalking women in eastern Pennsylvania. Kendra’s sketch was featured as part of the teaser.
She pulled a chair out from the table and sat down to watch as the reporter went through the killings that had dominated the news for the past week. An FBI spokesperson appeared to give an update, followed by film of the scene in the park where the last victim had been found.
“. . . and in spite of the fact that this latest victim did not fit