A man knelt next a heart-shaped marble tombstone, which
looked worse for wear. The top right corner had broken off.
He placed an armful of brightly colored silk flowers on the
ground and appeared to be talking to the headstone.
Oh, crap. Spying on someone in a graveyard was so wrong.
But I couldn't quite convince myself to walk away.
He wasn't exactly dressed for cold weather. He wore white
Nikes, jeans, and a thick, blue sweater. No coat, gloves,
or hat. He looked like a normal guy. Nice bod, but not one
made by Bowflex. Who knew? Maybe that sweater hid some rock-
hard abs.
He took out a spade and starting to dig around the edge of
the marble base.
The silence was ungodly. No chirping crickets, stir of
little mammals, or twitter of birds. In this odd quiet, the
spade rasped unpleasantly as the man thrust it into the
soil and piled it nearby.
Feeling more and more uncomfortable, I studied the rest of
the cemetery. Tombstones were tilted, broken, or fallen.
The place looked as if it had been ravaged by an
earthquake. It looked old, but not uncared-for. I idly
wondered what had happened to the place.
My gaze returned to the man. I really shouldn't get any
closer. About five feet away was a lone pine tree with
thickly covered branches. I shot out from my cover and
raced to the pine, ducking under its flagging limbs. The
needles poked at me, so I scrunched down. I was near enough
to see his determined expression. He had brown hair, cut
short. A nice, friendly face. Not drop-dead gorgeous, but
pleasant.
I crouched next to the tree and watched him dig a narrow
trench. Then he stuck the flowers in and arranged them. I
don't know why I stayed. Watching a man do this heart-
wrenching work wasn't exactly polite. I guess I just didn't
want to leave. I felt like someone needed to stand watch
with him, even if he was unaware of my presence. Stupid,
right?
The wind kicked up, slicing at my face like Ginsu knives. I
clamped my lips together to keep my teeth from chattering.
The man finished putting the flowers together, scooped the
dirt around 'em, and patted down the soil with the flat end
of the spade.
He stared at the grave and I stared at him. Something about
him niggled at me.
His face was a shade too pale. I couldn't fault a guy who
wasn't into baking his skin. No, it was his utter stillness
that freaked me out.
"You can come out now." He stood up, dusted off his jeans,
and turned his gaze directly to the pine tree. To me.
How had I given myself away? Even though moments earlier
I'd thought of him as my safety net, I knew better than
just to stroll out and introduce myself. I'd learned over
the years that not everything was as it seemed. He looked
nice and sounded nice, but hey, so did serial killersโright
until they stuck a knife to your throat.
"You are not afraid. You will come to me," he said. His
tone dropped an octave and went all seductive.
Yeah, right, Mr. Sexy Voice. I clutched the tree while my
mind raced. Oh, to hell with it. I ducked out from
underneath the unwieldy branches and raced toward the
forest.
I heard the growls two seconds before I saw the animals
issuing the threats. Two huge, pissed-off wolves raced
toward me.
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!
"Aaaaaaaaahhhh!" My scream echoed into the dense forest.
Heart thumping, stomach roiling, fear prickling, I made a U-
turn and ran back the other way. Their growls gave way to
fierce barking.
I shot past the pine tree. He was still there! My grave-
digging safety man! His puzzled expression switched to
alarm. His eyes went wide and he dropped the spade, which
was a good thing, because I launched myself at him.
He caught me, staggered backward, and then tried to let me
go.
"Pick me up! Pick me up!" I screeched. "Save me already!"
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