Deep Down (Sam Stone Book 1) (17 page)

BOOK: Deep Down (Sam Stone Book 1)
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Note from the author:

 

I hope you have enjoyed reading DEEP DOWN.  I certainly had a lot of fun writing it.   The idea for the book came from a visit to the real Strataca Museum, located in Hutchinson, KS.  My visit was a great adventure, unlike what Stone and Jenny experience on their visit to the fictional Strata Museum.  The Strata Museum in DEEP DOWN is a product of my imagination, and does not reflect, in any way, my visit to the Strataca Museum, which sparked the idea for the book. If you happen to have a chance to visit the real Strataca Museum, I suggest you take it. I promise that it will be a memorable experience. 

If you’ve enjoyed reading DEEP DOWN, please consider leaving a review on Amazon.  I’d love to hear what you thought of the book and if you’re interested in reading more about the adventures of Sam Stone.

If you’d like to be notified of upcoming releases, please visit my website at
www.janeanworth.com
and sign up for my newsletter.  

Happy reading,

Janean

Do you like Suspense novels? 

Keep reading to find an excerpt from GUARDING KAMI, a Christian Contemporary Suspense novel.

 

 

Chapter One

Gabe Mathews slouched down low in the seat of his car in front of the woman’s house, waiting to catch a glimpse of her stalker.  That is, if she even really had one. 

His back was already protesting his hunched over position as he recalled again the conversation that he’d had with Stan just the day before.  The conversation that had resulted in this uncomfortable stakeout.  Stan had approached him right after the church service was over, when everyone was filtering out of the building, and had taken him aside to ask about the woman’s problem.

“I’m telling you, Gabe, I think she’s in real danger,” Stan’s voice had shaken with emotion.

“Stan, true stalkers are not that common.   Are you sure your buddy at the police station has it right?” Gabe had asked, hoping that Stan was wrong.

“He said that she’d received a threatening note from someone who claimed to be watching her. He didn’t go into details, because he couldn’t share those, but he said he wished that the police could do more for her, other than just keep an eye on her house periodically.  She lives in that big house of hers all alone.  I’m worried about her.”

The woman that Stan was so worried about was Kami Walker, a member of the congregation.  Gabe had only met her a couple of times before, and at those times he’d gotten the feeling that she was quite a loner.  She didn’t mingle with the rest of the congregation much. She’d been polite to him when she’d talked to him, but her manner had been decidedly cool.

Still, despite her coolness, he’d felt obligated to at least check out what Stan had told him.  Not only was it his Christian duty to look into the matter, but Gabe couldn’t stomach the idea of a stalker harassing the woman.  He’d seen the worst that could happen when a stalker took an interest in an unmarried woman, and he’d vowed that, if he had anything to do about it, that would not happen to another woman he knew.

So, Gabe now sat in his car near Kami Walker’s house, in the middle of the night, feeling a bit like a stalker himself.

The shadows cast by the overhanging branches of the mature tree he’d parked under hid his plain blue sedan from view fairly well.  The glow of the streetlight couldn’t penetrate through the solid blackness of the thick shadows under the tree, and he was careful not to give his position away by using anything that would emit light.  He didn’t want her to see him and worry, and he didn’t want to be spotted by the stalker, if she truly had one. He was as comfortable as he could make himself, which wasn’t that comfortable, and he settled in for a long wait.

From his vantage point across the street, he could see her through the big bay window that faced out onto her massive front lawn.

In his opinion, the bay window afforded entirely too much easy access for viewing her.  He wondered why she didn’t realize that.  He wondered why Kami hadn’t put up curtains or planted a large bush in front of the window to hide her from the view of the street.

Of course, he knew that the purpose of having an enormous bay window was for the view, so it would have been odd if she’d covered it up, but she was just so vulnerable behind that glass.  So easily watched.  So easily spied upon.  So easily accessible to anyone who really, really wanted to get to her.

The thought of someone getting to her made him slightly angry.  He wasn’t surprised to realize that he felt protective of her already, even though he’d only been there a few hours and had only known her story for less than a day.  It was well known in the Private Investigator business that it wasn’t good to form a personal attachment to clients, but Gabe had always had a hard time with that rule.  Even though Kami Walker wasn’t a paying client, he’d already begun thinking of her as one of his responsibilities, and he always seemed to form a personal attachment to his clients in one way or another.  He’d stopped fighting it long ago and now he believed that it might even be an element of what made him so good at what he did.  The personal attachments drove him to success.  They made him excel.  Not for his own selfish benefit, but for theirs.  He was good at what he did, but he was good because they needed him to be good. 

Inside the house, Kami was moving around, tidying up before going to bed.  An hour ago, she’d been gone from view for a while and had come back clothed in a simple black velour robe over a set of flannel pajamas covered in, if he was seeing it right from this distance, a giant yellow happy face print.  He had grinned when he’d been able to puzzle it out from a distance.  Happy face pajamas!  She was unusual, he’d give her that.

Kami had settled down on the sofa to read.  A small lamp beside her on an elegantly simple end table was the only light in the room.  The soft light enhanced her features, highlighting the soft curl of her hair as it fell over her brow and the gentle curve of her delicate jaw line.

He hadn’t noticed before how attractive she was, but now, staring at her through the window, her vulnerable beauty nudged at him like a gentle wave on a sunset beach.  

The minutes ticked by. To stay alert, he amused himself by counting the pages that she read as she turned them.  He took stock of her surroundings every few seconds, cataloging the entry and exit points until he had them memorized.  Soon, every single weakness exposed near the front of the house was cataloged into his memory until he had a mental blueprint of the area. 

He’d have to come back in the daylight hours to see the rest of the house and grounds.  If he left his vehicle now to go exploring what he couldn’t see from his vantage point, he was afraid that he’d miss the action, if it ever came, and since action was his sole purpose for skulking out in front of her house like the stalker he was trying to catch a glimpse of, viewing the back vulnerabilities of her house would have to wait.  He just hoped that the stalker would come at her from the front of the house.  He was pretty sure a stalker would do just that, since the big bay window all but framed her for easy viewing.

His eyes drifted back to her face as she turned another page.  She was finally looking sleepy.  Her head had slowly slipped to the side, until it rested against the sofa. 

She dropped the book in her lap and yawned, then closed her eyes.  Moments passed.  Time seemed to slow for him. 

When minutes passed with agonizing slowness and she didn’t stir, he knew she had fallen asleep.

NO!  He wanted to shout at her.  How could she expose herself like that?  How could she fall asleep in front of the window?

He wanted to shake her awake. 

She should know better, shouldn’t she?  She had, after all, received a letter from someone who claimed to be watching her. Could she really be that naïve?

He suddenly felt an almost overwhelming need to protect her. He allowed his eyes to scan the darkness once again for any signs of her stalker.

Nothing.  No movement. No whispers of sound. Nothing.

He struggled with the urge to leap from the car and charge up to her house and tell her that she should not be sleeping in front of the window.  If he knocked, surely she’d be startled awake, and stop looking so completely defenseless and exposed behind the crystal clear glass.

How could she make herself such an easy target?

The stalker could be anywhere. With a good set of binoculars, the stalker would be able to watch her while she slept. For as long as he liked. 

The thought drove Gabe crazy.  He didn’t want the stalker watching her while she slumbered, all innocent vulnerability in bright happy face pajamas. And if the stalker used binoculars and took advantage of the easy view, Gabe wouldn’t even know it.  He wouldn’t be able to get a glimpse of her stalker.

She looked so childlike and defenseless, with the soft light shining on her face and the velour robe wrapped around her middle for warmth.  He picked up his throwaway phone.  The one he saved for when he needed to be anonymous.  If he called her house, surely she’d wake up and then go off to bed? 

It would be a waste of a clean phone, because once he used a throwaway phone, he never used it again on a different case.  He didn’t leave messy digital footprints like that.  He knew better.

He tossed the phone back into the passenger seat.  Too risky.  The light from the phone would give him away if the stalker was near.

He fought down his protective emotions, realizing that, even for him, they were a little extreme.  He shouldn’t be feeling this way when he’d only just decided to look into her case yesterday. For pity’s sake, if she saw him out here, she really would think he was the stalker.

She didn’t know him very well. He doubted that she would even know who he was if he walked up to her door right now. And he didn’t know her at all, except for a few chance meetings in church.  Which was why he shouldn’t be feeling so protective.  Not yet.  Just because her vulnerability pulled at his protective instincts so strongly didn’t mean that she was like Jen.  He couldn’t help but draw the parallel between the two women, but he had to keep reminding himself that what had happened to Jen wasn’t going to happen to the woman behind the bay window.  He wouldn’t let it.  Not if it was humanly possible to prevent it.

He forced himself to remain still, slouched inside the blue sedan, muscles tensed in frustration, waiting for the stalker.  He said a quick silent prayer for God’s help in protecting Kami Walker, for His help in preventing another tragedy like what had happened to Jen.

Gabe felt torn, wishing both that the stalker would show up so that he could be observed, and that the stalker would stay away and not be able to watch Kami while she was so exposed.

His mind churned with the sheer flawed logic of her actions. Why, knowing that she had a stalker, had she so foolishly fallen asleep in front of the bay window?

It didn’t make any sense to him.

Stan had mentioned in their conversation that his buddy on with the police had said how scared Kami had been when she’d come into the police station.  Scared women, in his experience, did not fall asleep in front of a huge window with no curtains or concealment at midnight when they knew they had a stalker!

She should be hiding in her bed.

But the fact that she wasn’t suddenly intrigued him.  Maybe he had it wrong?  Maybe she wasn’t as naïve as she appeared?  Perhaps she had been trying to get a glimpse of the stalker, just like he was, but she’d fallen asleep before he’d arrived?

Still, Gabe couldn’t think of her actions as anything other than foolish.  What if the stalker took it as an invitation?

Gabe slouched down in the seat even further, trying to ease the tightness from his cramped back and legs.  He’d been sitting in the car watching her since darkness had fallen.  And that had been hours ago.  Earlier, he’d decided he wasn’t leaving until she went off to bed.  Now, he vowed to stay the rest of the night so he could watch over her.  He just couldn’t leave her there alone like that.  Not when she might end up needing protection so very badly.

Chapter Two

Kami lay very still, heart pounding hard in her chest, pretending to be asleep.  Was that him?  There in the blue sedan across the street?  Or was he somewhere else?

The blue sedan had shown up earlier in the evening.  She didn’t recognize it as belonging to the neighbor across the street, the neighbor whose house it had been parked in front of for hours now.

Through barely-open eyelids, struggling to keep her breathing even, she watched the car.   She couldn’t quite tell if the front seat was occupied, or if it was simply the headrest that made it appear as if there was someone behind the wheel.

Her neck was starting to ache from tension and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep up the pretense of restful slumber without screaming.

And what was she doing anyway?  She’d purposefully showcased herself in the lamplight on the sofa in front of the bay window.  Hoping to catch a glimpse of the stalker that she now knew she had.

It was dangerous, what she was doing.  It was foolhardy.  But, at least it was action!  The police had done nothing to help her when she’d gone to them last Thursday.  Nothing! And now it was Monday night, and she’d barely slept since she’d received the note.  The sleep deprivation was starting to make her doubt her own sanity and good judgment, which was probably why she’d thought it was a good idea to lie in front of the window, exposed like this in hopes of getting a look at the guy.

Tomorrow she was going to have to do something different. She couldn’t keep living like this, feeling so afraid all of the time.   But tonight she was going to do her best to be proactive and try to catch a glimpse of her stalker.  Even if her heart pounded with fear and her neck ached with tension.

The police had said they’d send a car by every now and then, and she supposed they had, since she’d seen a police car drive through her quiet neighborhood on Saturday morning.  But, the police had also said that they couldn’t really do more than that until they had some real evidence of who the stalker might be or evidence of something he’d actually done.  They’d kept the note that she had received from the stalker.  They’d needed it for evidence.  But the note was only a threat, and a threat didn’t call for a protective detail, only for an investigation.  As explicit as it had been, the police still hadn’t done much to make her feel safe. 

A chill raced up her spine, causing gooseflesh to raise up on her arms when she thought of the contents of the note.  The stalker had been very specific. He was going to hurt her, but he was going to have a little fun with her first, and he was going to enjoy it.  After he was done watching her, stalking her like an animal, then he planned to begin the real fun.

The thought made nausea rise up in her throat again.

She closed her eyes and prayed silently for protection and strength, feeling desperation tangle with the fear in her chest.

The Lord was her only defense.  She couldn’t defend herself against he stalker at this very moment, because she didn’t know who he was or where he was at, she could only pray that God would help her as she battled her fear.

She swallowed the dry lump in her throat and stared out into the darkness. 

She couldn’t see anything.

She sighed, suddenly tired of feeling like a china doll on display in a shop window.  She’d had enough.

Reaching over, she switched off the light, got to her feet, stretched her sore neck and then strode through the heavy cloak of darkness to her bedroom.  She may not be able to sleep, but she didn’t have to make it easy for him to see her anymore.  She could only take so much of that.

Maybe tomorrow she’d buy a dog.  A nice, big, trained German Shepherd that would help her keep an eye out for the stalker.  A big dog would be a good addition to the other security measures she’d been collecting since last Thursday.    It was a good thing that money was no object, because in only four days, she’d had a security system installed, purchased a variety of small protection devices that she’d stashed at various locations around the house, and enrolled in a self-defense class.   All of which had been very expensive.  But she didn’t feel bad about the money she’d spent. The money was part of the reason that she had acquired a stalker to begin with.  At least she thought so anyway. Maybe it would be better if she went back to being dirt poor again, not rolling in money that she had never expected to have.

A woman could probably only have her picture in national newspapers, announcing her inherited wealth, so many times until she caught the eye of someone unsavory.  And she’d shared headlines in many papers in the last year.

She sighed at the thought of all of the publicity. She’d really hated it all.  She still wasn’t sure why her grandfather had thought it was a good idea to make her the sole heiress to his wealth.  She understood his reasoning, but it didn’t change the fact that her aunt and uncle were both a closer relation to him than she was.  They were his children, and she was only his grandchild. But, she supposed that since both her aunt and uncle had been estranged from her grandfather for more years than she could remember, and since she’d done her best to care for him in his last years, he’d thought it fitting to leave her his entire fortune. 

If only he’d thought of the scandal that would ensue when he did so.  If only he’d known how she’d be hounded by the press, and browbeaten by her aunt and uncle for months after his death, perhaps he’d have written his will differently.

She hadn’t taken over his care for the money anyway.  She’d done it because it was the right thing to do.  The Christian thing to do.  She’d done it to mend the rift he had created with his children so many years ago.  The rift that had not been repaired before Kami’s mother had died.  Her mother had never spoken to her father again after their estrangement from one another, and he had not come to her funeral. 

She sighed again in the darkness, silently willing herself not to think of her mother, her grandfather and his money, or the reason that she had a stalker now.  Trying to shake off the sleep that clouded her mind, and unwilling to turn on the light in case the stalker was out there somewhere with binoculars trained on her bedroom window, she tiptoed through the room. 

Her feet sank into the thick, luxurious carpeting, making her steps silent in the big house. 

Removing her robe, she tossed it over the antique French chair that had once belonged to her grandmother, but now sat next to her bed.  Before climbing between her creamy white, vanilla-scented satin sheets, she carefully made her way to the nightstand and withdrew the small Taser that she’d stashed there.

Holding it in her hand like a safety line, she then went back to bed and snuggling down under the cream-colored sheets and the fluffy mound of her Egyptian cotton comforter. She almost felt safe with the Taser in her hand and the sheets pulled up to her chin.  Almost.

It was at times like this when she believed her grandfather had been right about her lack of a husband.  Grandfather had been opinionated and hardheaded and he’d insisted upon multiple occasions that a girl like her needed a husband to take care of her.  She didn’t particularly believe that was true at the time, but she hadn’t argued with him, or taken the time to explain why she wasn’t married.  Revealing her inner pain over the betrayal of her former fiancé to her grandfather wouldn’t have made her feel better anyway.  The lonely hole in her heart had grown larger after her grandfather had gone to be with the Lord.   She’d come to love the old codger dearly, and she missed him deeply.

A shudder coursed through her, and she could feel the tears coming.  Feeling so weak and helpless, alone in the dark, she let them come, knowing her grandfather had been right.  If she’d had a husband, she wouldn’t be facing this alone.  And if she weren’t an heiress, a millionaire three times over, then she wouldn’t have a stalker at all.  Being rich was as much of a curse as being poor.  Even more so sometimes.

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