Thursday, December 29, 2011

Does Our Heroine Panic? Next Page: Waterlillies Over My Grave

Let us suppose, this is your first day on your new job, in a new town, thousands of miles away from home and a beautiful new office with a huge picture window. The phone rings.

And, there he is. Your ex--psychiatrist and psychopath, rolled into one. But, how did he FIND you? Nervous, you knock the vase full of flowers and water over yourself and onto the floor. Somehow, he knows. How do YOU know he knows that? He tells you EXACTLY what you just did and what you're wearing.


Annie concentrated on an oil painting, the focal point of
burgundy and gray walls. Water lilies her mother had painted for her
when she was a child. It went everywhere with her. Made her feel at
home and at peace no matter how hard life got. She wished she could
walk into that scene right now. Her eyes shifted to the stack of client
folders on her desk and back to reality.

She forced tensing muscles to relax. “Duncan, knock it off.”
Drumming her fingers against the desktop, fear rapidly turned to
resentment. “Look, I’m no longer in New York. I’ve moved away.”
Apparently, not far enough.

“I know exactly where you are.” His tone held a stony edge.
Annie’s jaw stiffened. He’s fishing.


“My dear girl. I know that you are sitting in your new office
in a hospital in upper Wisconsin.”

Annie gasped. He knew where she was. Could he see into her
office? Her gaze swept out through the large picture window and
across the parking lot. Besides a drizzly day, she didn’t see anything
out of the ordinary. No movement of cars or people. Surreal. As
quiet as a black, white and gray painting.

Until the voice broke the silence. “Then, how could I know
that you’re wearing that gray suit with the mini-skirt that shows off
your lovely legs? How do I know that your hair is tied up in a knot
that reveals a neck as delicate as a swan?”

A moment’s frozen silence settled upon the room, until what
he’d said registered. Then her elbow knocked into a plastic vase of
tiger lilies. The water spilled over the edge of the desk, flooding the

Chuckle. “Don’t you think you ought to wipe that up before
it gets all over your client’s charts?”

Her muscles tightened and, in spite of herself, her voice
shook. “How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess.”

“You heard the noise through the phone.” Time for some
bravado. “Look, I’m not afraid of you.”

Again, that chuckle. She couldn’t put a finger on the sound
he was making. Some hybrid of humor?

“Oh, but you should be afraid my dear. Very afraid. You’ll
never be rid of me. And, you’ll never know where I am, or when I’ll
turn up. I could be behind the next corner, in the shadows, in a dark


“Or on the banks of Lake Nager.”

Copyright 2008 by LSPDigital Waterlilies Over My Grave can be purchased at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and other online bookstores, or ordered through a bookstore near you.

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