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No one in her family had visited there since the horrible day she’d been attacked, and the years were not kind to the boarded-up cabin. The paint was chipped and weathered, and wild brush had overtaken the surrounding area. The utilities had been turned off long ago, and rodents had overrun the place.
It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t stay for long. She’d spent the afternoon sweeping and preparing the cabin, and she was ready.
She pulled her jacket closer as the sun set behind the mountain in front of her. How strange it was to be back. She’d wondered what it would be like to return to this place after so long. For much of her life, this cabin and lake felt more like home than anyplace on earth.
Now, strangely, it felt that way again. She’d spent years preparing herself to punish the son of a bitch who’d taken so much from her, only to have all that effort come to naught when she thought he’d been captured.
Now, miraculously, she had a second chance. This is who she really was, who she had worked so hard to become. Not theSports Illustratedgolden girl, but an avenging angel who might bring some balance to her and her family’s world.
She checked her watch. It had been over four hours since herSan Diego Union-Tribuneinterview had been posted online. Surely Milo would take the bait.
She looked up at the ridge and two-lane road that extended for miles. It was the only way to reach the cabin, originally constructed to serve a now mined-out quarry in the next valley. From her vantage point, she could spot any approaching cars long before they’d see her.
She’d chosen the perfect place for her rematch with a monster.
***
Two hours later, he still hadn’t arrived.
Patience.
If not tonight, then tomorrow. Or the day after.
She’d waited all these years, she could wait a little while longer.
She stood and looked up at the full moon, which bathed the lake and surrounding area in a beautiful blue glow. Any other night, she’d be going for a swim.
But this wasn’t just any night.
She glanced back at the cabin, where a pair of burning oil lanterns were visible through the open door. It was the only opening in the boarded-up structure, meant as a signal to Milo that she was in residence. She’d parked her car in easy view from the mountain road, but now that night had fallen, she hoped that the flickering cabin lanterns would be enough to confirm that he’d find her there.
She’d be there, all right.
But not inside. Outside, just a few yards away, hidden in the brush just a few yards from the cabin. She’d wrap herself in a thermal blanket and wait all night if that’s what it took.
She picked up her binoculars and scanned the road. She hadn’t seen a vehicle for hours, and even then, it was just a Parks and Recreation jeep from the nearby town of Bishop. She swept her binoculars across the tall pines, knowing their deep shadows could easily hide any number of threats, both animal and human.
It didn’t matter. She was prepared. She felt her jacket pocket for the .38 automatic that the boyfriend of one of her teammates had loaned her. The gun was there along with two ammo cartridges. She hadn’t the time to practice with this particular weapon, but she’d trained with others like it.
She continued the sweep with her binoculars, tracing the road on its journey along the edge of the valley. She’d have to pay special attention there; if someone approached on foot, it might be difficult to see them in the shadowy area just above the cabin.
A chill went through her. What in the hell was she doing out here?
Only what needed to be done. No time for self-doubt.
She lowered the binoculars and listened. She’d forgotten how still and quiet it was out there, and it seemed even more so after having grown accustomed to the din of the city.
She walked back toward her car.
Craaack!
She froze. What was that?
She heard it again.
Just a rustling in the tree branches, she decided. Probably a bird or a squirrel.
She opened her car trunk and pulled out a blanket and a camping stool. Then she took out the Indonesian thumb blades she’d taken from her dorm room and carefully slipped them on her thumbs, avoiding the razor-sharp edges. They were low-key but effective if you knew what you were doing with the blades. She’d made certain she knew what she was doing and had taught herself not to make a mistake. Together with the gun and other weapons in the trunk she felt well equipped to face Milo. Then she took out a large thermos of coffee from the trunk. She shook the thermos. Only half full. That should be enough to—
