Save Me (A Katie Winter FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 1)

CHAPTER ONE The gray-haired man scrambled to his feet, his knees protesting his 60 years, staring curiously at the object fluttering across the lake’s frozen surface. He squinted, struggling to focus so that he could determine what it was. But the breeze tugged it in the other direction, sending it skittering away across the ice as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. Was it a bracelet? Or something else? Yesterday he’d picked up a fishing lure that had fallen off during one of his previous attempts. Finding the lure had encouraged him to continue, to brave the cold a little longer. Today was not going well. He had been having a bad streak, and he had a feeling it was about to get worse. So far, the only thing he had to show for his efforts was a purple lump on his forehead from where he’d slipped on the ice. And the wind was picking up. Perhaps he should go back to his cabin, he thought, and try again tomorrow. He returned his attention to his fishing pole, but then, glancing up, he saw it again, this time a little closer. “What could it be?” he whispered to himself. It was small and every time the wind blew, it would move a couple of feet. Treading carefully over the ice, he made his way closer. When he bent to pick it up, he saw it was a glimmering, sequined hair tie. A scrunchie, as his granddaughter called them. His heart pounded as he saw this one was covered in blood. He stared around in concern. This object must have come from somewhere. But where? As he surveyed the lake again, this time, he saw it, camouflaged by a drift of snow. A c***k in the ice. No, not a c***k. This dark shape looked like something different. Was it a rock? He forced his legs to move, stumbling closer. As he neared it, he started to fear the worst. This didn’t look like a rock. He gasped as he realized what he was seeing, trapped in a solidifying layer of ice. It was a body. A woman. Frozen in the water, her matted blonde hair partially covering her face. Her eyes were wide open, and in horror, he realized the ice had frozen them in place. “No,” he whispered. Shaking with the effort and cold, he leaned carefully forward and touched her outstretched arm. Her body was stiff and unresponsive. He reached into his pocket, groping for his phone to call 911. But he fumbled, and his phone slipped out of his trembling hands and smashed down onto the ice, its screen cracking. The man stood there, utterly alone with her, feeling as helpless as he had ever been, just he and this woman, alone out here. Sinking to his knees, he wept.