Amanda Stevens

Nighttime Guardian


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we don’t have to. We can talk about anything you like. Think of it as two old friends catching up. We haven’t seen each other in years, Shelby. There’s a lot I’d like to know about you.”

      One brow lifted slightly. “Such as?”

      “Have dinner with me and I’ll tell you.” Shelby had never been able to resist a challenge. It had been her downfall more than once. If Nathan hadn’t dared her, she never would have gone down to the river that night. “Come on. For old times’ sake.”

      She gave him an exasperated look. “You haven’t changed much, have you? You still don’t like taking no for an answer.”

      “Is that a yes, then?” he asked hopefully.

      “It’ll have to be an early dinner,” she finally conceded. “I don’t like driving home alone after dark.”

      “Deal,” he agreed, smiling. Feeling triumphant for no good reason. “But don’t worry. I wouldn’t dream of letting you drive home alone. I’ll follow you.”

      She said nothing to that, but her expression seemed to suggest that his words were hardly reassuring.

      SHELBY WAITED until the door closed behind Nathan before hurrying over to the window to watch him stride down the street. The sidewalk was empty this time of morning, but with his looks and bearing, he would have been noticed even in a crowd.

      Last night, under cover of darkness, Shelby had thought him attractive, but this morning, in broad daylight, with sunlight gleaming against his dark hair—

      She drew a sharp breath.

      He was more than attractive. Nathan Dallas had turned out to be a very handsome man. Drop-dead gorgeous, in fact. The single women in town were probably leaving tracks on each other’s backs in their haste to capture his attention.

      But Shelby wasn’t one of them.

      Watching him disappear around a corner, she rallied her resolve. She wouldn’t be going to dinner with Nathan Dallas tonight or any other night. She’d only agreed in order to quell his persistence. In an hour or so, she’d call the Argus and leave a message. She’d say something had come up. She couldn’t make it after all.

      But the thought of spending the evening alone was hardly tempting, either. Shelby hadn’t slept well last night. She wanted to believe the country quiet had kept her awake, but she knew better. The river was a spooky place, had been since that summer night when she’d seen something rise out of the water and start toward her.

      Realistically, she knew the Pearl River Monster didn’t exist. The vision had been conjured by her imagination and by all the talk that summer about the creature. She’d been just a kid back then, frightened and lonely. It might have been nothing more than shadows in the moonlight that had terrified her. Nothing more than an illusion caused by the darkness. But she had seen something.

      Over the years, Shelby had managed to look back on that night with an open mind and even with some humor. She’d created quite a stir in Arcadia that summer. The ridicule she’d taken after the Argus had declared her sighting a hoax had, in time, taken on comic overtones. The town had turned on her because the national media had made them all look like fools. Shelby accepted that now. She even speculated with some amusement that her monster sighting was what had compelled her to go into accounting instead of the arts, although she’d always had a creative flair. After that summer, she’d wanted to deal in the concrete, not the abstract.

      But after Michael had been killed and Albert Lunt had come after her, her logic had deserted her. Entering her darkened house that night, Shelby had sensed Lunt’s presence before she’d seen him, and the cold, black, mind-numbing terror of that long-ago summer had come rushing back.

      But somehow she’d managed to survive both river monsters and Albert Lunt.

      You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Shelby.

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