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  Suddenly, I had an idea. "Let's do this," I said. "You go with Billie to dinner tonight. Tell the whole group that I've taken a turn for the worse, that I'm very disoriented and confused and that as my doctor, you've ordered complete bed rest until morning. Tell them we'll plan to hold a meeting with everyone tomorrow morning at breakfast, when I'm feeling better. Tell them I haven't told you what I know, but that you think I've identified the killer. Whatever you do, don't leave Billie's side. In fact, maybe you should plan to spend the night in her cabin. Just to be safe."

  "You think they'll come after you?"

  "It's worth a shot. God knows they did it once. If they think I'm planning to expose them in the morning, it's a good bet they'll try again, especially if they think I'm incapacitated."

  "It just might work," she said. "But I don't want to leave you alone. After dinner, I'm coming back. But I'll make sure everyone thinks I'm going to Billie's. We'll make a show of wanting to be alone. Now that everyone understands that the thing between you and me was for show, they won't think twice about Billie and me spending time together. As far as anyone's concerned, they'll think you're all alone and an easy target."

  "You sure you want to come back?" I asked.

  "Yeah, why?"

  "Well as long as you're coming, you think you could sneak me some food? I'm starving."

  "Has anyone ever checked you for tapeworms?" she asked, laughing. "I could do it now. I think I've got an endoscope somewhere in my bag. It only hurts for a while."

  I punched her on the arm and followed her to the door where Billie was still standing guard outside.

  "You better let us help you, in case anyone's watching. Try to look dazed and confused," Allison said.

  "That should be easy. I'll just pretend I'm you." I smiled sweetly, and Allison took my arm, pinching my biceps in the process. Billie took my other arm and the three of us made our way back to the cabin slowly. We hardly saw a soul, though. Apparently everyone was already in the lodge for dinner.

  While Allison and Billie were at dinner, I spent more time working on my notes, updating motives and opportunities for the five women I still suspected. The scratches on Reeva's face concerned me. She said she'd seen me slipping into the water and rescued me. Apparently I gouged her in the process. But wasn't that a convenient story? Why hadn't she been able to see who was pulling me down? The water had been muddy, but how long could a person stay under? She would've seen my attacker when she surfaced, unless she merely joined the rest of the women swimming over to help. Maybe when the others saw what was happening and came to investigate, Reeva had been forced to quit what she was really doing and pretend to pull me to safety. The situation was mind-boggling, and my head was hurting again.

  I was still at work when Allison returned bearing a tray laden with food. Billie was with her, grinning with mischief.

  "Sustenance," Billie said, pulling a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from under her bright red jacket. "I lifted it when no one was looking."

  "I thought you two were going to make people think you were going to Billie's place," I said, eyeing the food. The plate was piled high with meat loaf, steamed broccoli and mashed potatoes covered with gravy. There were three pieces of chocolate cream pie on the tray as well. Comfort food, I thought, digging in. A perfect choice. Billie poured the wine and came to sit at the little table across from me, helping herself to a piece of pie.

  "We told them we were bringing you a sick tray, but that you probably wouldn't be awake enough to eat," Billie said. "Then, when I was pretty sure everyone could hear me, I asked Allison if she wanted to come hot-tubbing tonight at my place. We gave each other a few long, meaningful glances that I'm sure no one could miss, and Allison nibbled my neck in the dessert line. Tonight was one of those buffet thingies."

  "You sure no one poisoned this?" I asked, holding my fork an inch from my mouth. It was too late anyway. I'd already eaten half the mashed potatoes.

  "If they did, there's gonna be a lot of sick people. We took it from the same dish as everyone else."

  "What did you tell them?" I asked Allison. She was nibbling at her pie, sipping the red wine thoughtfully.

  "Pretty much what you said. Lacy's very concerned about you and offered to come sit with you tonight. So did Fay. Believe it or not, Reeva seemed concerned too. Sabrina's ticked off about her underpants, I think. Which naturally Holly found hilarious. Karen was pretty quiet. When we left, she and Sabrina were dancing. All anyone can talk about is the football notes and what they mean."

  "You think they bought the setup?" I asked.

  "Hard to tell. I guess the only way we'll know for sure is if someone comes after you."

  "I think we should all just go to my cabin," Billie said. "It's stupid to lie around waiting for someone to come kill you. They can't keep missing forever."

  "This may be their last chance," I said. "At any rate, they may think it is. Besides, I've got my gun."

  "A lot of good it did you today," Billie pointed out.

  I reached over and poured myself more wine. "It'll be right beside me tonight."

  "And I'll be right next door. In fact, I think we should change the camera so that it shoots into your room," Allison said.

  "Camera?" Billie asked. Allison explained about my video cam.

  "Let's just keep it how it is," I said. "Don't forget, Allie, they may be coming after me now, but you're still the primary target. My guess is, if they do try something tonight, it may involve both of us."

  "God, this is so stupid!" Billie exploded. "You two are sitting around here talking as if you're discussing a tea party while some sicko is plotting your death. Can't we at least stand guard outside?"

  "If they see someone outside, they won't come. The whole point is to set a trap. If we don't find out who it is now, we may never know. Which means they'll be free to try again and again. This is our best chance right now."

  Billie heaved a huge sigh and helped herself to the rest of Allison's pie. Allison poured them both more wine.

  "So I'm supposed to do what? Lie awake and worry? I hate this!"

  Allison put her arm around Billie's shoulder and drew her toward her. She kissed her on the forehead. "Cass knows what she's doing, Billie. If everything goes right, this whole damn mess will be over."

  I only hoped she was right. If not, I was afraid I was running out of trump cards. And I didn't have any aces up my sleeve. My only protection was the thirty-eight under my waistband, already witnessed by everyone involved. Not the way I would have planned it, but then, so far, nothing had really gone according to plan. I hadn't even gotten a chance to use my binocular-strength sunglasses, and with no phones, my portable recorder was useless. So much for high-tech surveillance, I thought. But who knew? Maybe things were about to change for the better.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was dark. The clouds had slunk back over the mountain and lay like a blanket overhead, blocking out the moon and stars. My room was still. I'd been lying in wait, listening hard for hours. My muscles were rigid and tense. When the bathroom door creaked open, I grabbed for the gun beneath my pillow.

  "It's just me, Cass. I couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?"

  I fell back down, burying my head in the pillow.

  My heart was pounding. Allison came and sat on the edge of the bed.

  "I don't think they're coming," she said.

  "What time is it?"

  "About three. They'd have come by now, don't you think?"

  "Probably. Why don't you get some sleep. I'm awake anyway," I said.

  "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to. I heard you tossing around in here a while ago. Why don't you let me stay awake, and you try to get some sleep. Here, just try to relax." Her hands slid across my shoulders, her fingers probing gently into the muscles, finding the aches beneath the surface. "Does that hurt?" she asked, positioning herself above my back.

  "A little," I admitted. I had exhausted every muscle in my body trying to pull her up the cliff the d
ay before. She dug her fingers into the sore spots, manipulating them until I began to relax. I realized I'd been holding my breath and clenching my fists, and I forced myself to let go.

  "That's better," she said, moving down to knead the tense back muscles. She slid her hands under my T-shirt. Her fingers deftly found the tender areas, and although she was gentle, there was a ruthlessness in her touch. When I gasped, she eased up and concentrated on another, equally tender area. I gave up resisting and let myself enjoy the exquisite pain. Until she'd started to work on me, I hadn't realized just how sore I'd been. For the first time in days, I felt my body start to relax.

  As she moved to my hips. I wished I'd worn more than just my underwear and T-shirt to bed. It was more than I usually wore, but I'd been expecting trouble. Still, with Allison's hands kneading my buttocks, I was suddenly self-conscious. Before I could resist, she moved downward and I let out an involuntary moan.

  "Tender?" she asked, probing my thigh.

  I nodded into my pillow, trying to ignore the pain, let alone the other sensations I'd begun to feel as she rhythmically pressed me against the bed, her fingers pushing into my flesh. Kneading my calf, she then began working her way up my other leg. I found myself holding my breath again as she crept closer to what had become an increasingly urgent throbbing.

  "You're still tense," she said, cupping my thigh with both hands, using her thumbs to dig deeper. The back of her one hand brushed against the elastic of my underwear and she quickly moved away. I shuddered, my face burning. Again her fingers brushed against me, and this time I knew it hadn't been accidental.

  "Allison," I croaked. My voice was embarrassingly husky.

  "Shhh..." she murmured. Her own voice sounded as bad as mine. She had her hands on both thighs now, pushing, kneading, her thumbs just tracing the elastic of my underpants, back and forth, so softly while she pounded at my legs — well not my legs, really, and not just the elastic, but closer, her thumbs nearly touching each other and the damp heat beneath the thin cotton, until, heart pounding, every part of me throbbing, I cried out.

  "Please!" It was all I could manage. My voice shattered the quiet. Allison stopped moving. She pulled her hands away. Her breathing was as ragged as my own.

  When at last she spoke, her voice was almost a whisper. "Please don't stop? Or please leave me alone?" she finally asked. She sounded as if, either way, she might cry.

  "Please go back to your room, Allie. If you care about me at all, please do that right now."

  I felt her body brush against mine as she slid off the bed. Every fiber of my being pulsated. I knew she was standing above me, but I couldn't bring myself to look at her.

  "You must love her very much," she said at last. I nodded into my pillow. "I'm sorry," she said. "It won't happen again." At the door, she paused. "I hope she knows how lucky she is."

  I didn't breathe until I heard both doors close behind her.

  It was nearly light before I really let myself fall asleep, and when I did, the dreams haunted me. There was no evil thing dragging me underwater for once, but even so, my heart was pounding when I awoke. It had started with Maggie, her deep green eyes smiling down at me while she did things I can't describe. But the eyes turned turquoise and the black curls gave way to reddish gold waves. When I realized it was Allison I was making love with, my body jerked awake.

  It was later than I thought. The sun was stuck somewhere behind an ominous gathering of thunder-heads, and the sky was eerily dark. Trees rustled in the breeze, and I hugged my jacket around me as I stepped out onto the porch. I wasn't looking forward to seeing Allison and was relieved that she'd apparently already gone to breakfast. I peeked through her windows to verify her departure. Apparently, she hadn't been anxious to see me either.

  I knew they were all expecting me to meet with them this morning, supposedly to identify the would-be killer. But since I couldn't exactly do that, I went back inside and rummaged around in the small refrigerator until I found something to eat. A lot of people would have turned their nose up at cheese and salami for breakfast, but it was my guess they probably hadn't tried it.

  I sat down with my feast and a cup of coffee to try to hammer out a plan. My trap hadn't worked, and if I couldn't make my assailant come after me, I was going to have to go after her. Since I didn't know which one to go after, I'd have to go after them all. I wrote their names on a napkin and tore it into five squares. Holly, Fay, Karen, Reeva and Sabrina. I shuffled the squares, rearranging them in various orders, trying to decide.

  Whoever had stuck me with the needle, must have carried it with her into the water. Reeva and Karen had both been naked. Could Holly or Fay have hidden the needle in their swimsuits? I doubted that Sabrina could have concealed it in her silky underwear. We wouldn't have missed it. On the other hand, almost everyone had taken one of the rafts to float around on. The needle could have easily been concealed inside one of the little grooves, and no one would have noticed. And there were other possibilities, I realized, letting my mind roam.

  Karen had been wearing a pair of sunglasses. Maybe she'd hidden the needle inside her glasses case and carried it with her. I supposed, if someone had been really desperate, they could've encapsulated it and inserted it vaginally. God knows we'd all read enough prison stories to know that trick. Even so, I shuddered.

  I realized, dejected, that any one of them could have carried the needle with them. I took out my notes, studying them for something I'd missed.

  Holly, as Women On Top's financial advisor, had the best motive, I thought. She alone knew of Allison's fortune and, presumably, her will. The way she always seemed to be watching and waiting, reminded me of a cat toying with a mouse.

  For that matter, Fay Daniels always seemed to be watching, too, but as the newest member of the group, and one who might be unsure of her sexual orientation, maybe this was to be expected, but for some reason it bothered me that she and Allison were born in the same town. I kept forgetting to ask Allison about it and made myself another note to do so.

  Karen, I now realized, was smitten with Sabrina, who in turn fawned over Allison. From Karen's dark looks and remarks, I sensed real hostility toward Allison. In fact, from the moment she thought Allison and I were lovers, her demeanor toward me had changed from friendly to downright ugly. Was jealousy enough of a motive? I already knew she had the means and opportunity.

  Reeva, the organization's vice president, had her own motive: she envied Allison's popularity and position of power. She was also the one most adamant about the officers being paid more. With Allison out of the picture, and with the money willed to WOT, there was a good chance Reeva could get everything she wanted. I kept flashing back to the moment when I realized it was Reeva cradling me in her arms. Was she my protector? Or a clever psychopath?

  Finally, there was Sabrina, the group's grant writer who was obviously love-sick over Allison. Her mood swings, past history of arson, and use of meds all pointed to emotional instability, to say the least. She came off as timid, but watching the way she played football, I knew she could be a relentless adversary. Of all of them, Sabrina's personality fit best with the profile of a stalker.

  I sighed. Anyone of them could be trying to kill Allison. Suddenly, my joke about them all being in on it together, didn't seem so funny. I was getting desperate. It was already Thursday and I wasn't that much closer to knowing the truth. And I had a nagging feeling that if I didn't find out soon, the would-be killer would eventually succeed.

  I may have managed to kick Allison out of my room last night, but she had definitely wormed her way into my heart. She wasn't just a client anymore. It had gotten personal. Even if the attacker hadn't come after me, I knew I'd be going after her with more than a professional detachment. Which could be dangerous.

  I tossed the little squares of paper in the air and snatched one before they could land. I smiled. Holly McIntyre’s name lay crumpled in my palm.

  Chapter Nineteen

  "We missed you at
breakfast," Holly said, blocking the doorway to her cabin. She was dressed in navy velour sweats and Reeboks, her blond hair tied back with a matching navy scarf. She looked ready for a jog along Hollywood Boulevard.

  "May I come in?" I asked.

  There was a brief hesitation, then she shrugged and stepped aside. "You seem to be feeling better. It's amazing what the powers of love can accomplish. Or is it true that you and Allison have just been playacting at this little love-game?" She was leaning nonchalantly against her dresser, her legs crossed at the ankles. She stifled a yawn.

  I ignored the question, went to her bed, reached behind her pillow and pulled out her journal.

  "Hey!" she shouted, rushing to grab it. I held it out of her reach and pushed my other hand against her chest, keeping her at arm's length. She swatted angrily at my arm, and her face darkened.

  "Sit down," I said calmly.

  "You have no right!"

  "I'll tell you what I've got," I said. "I've got a pretty good idea why you'd like to see Allison Crane dead. And I've got reason to believe you not only have the motive, but you've had the means and opportunity to kill her. And," I said, waving the book in the air, "I've got your journal. Now sit down."

  She slumped onto the bed, her brown eyes fuming. "You were in my cabin," she accused. "You went through my things. I knew someone had moved my journal!"

  I began thumbing through it. "Tell me something, Holly. Do you hate everyone, or just the people you know?"

  "I don't hate." She paused, then met my eyes. "To hate, you need to feel. I don't allow myself to feel very often. Obviously you need to read a little more closely. I simply report what I see."

  "Jeez. I'd hate to see what you'd write if you did hate. No feelings, huh? Must be a pretty grim life, Holly. How do you get your kicks? Besides nice clothes, I mean."