CHAPTER 48
THE KILLER ZIPPED open the duffle bag with a savage yank, his hands shaking, heart pumping. A sprawl of houses adorned the two short ends of the long, narrow lake and spread along its eastern flank, but the west side of the lake was mostly forest land. A paved trail ran its length, just wide enough to serve as a cart path for those who lived on the far side to access the golf course and a few narrow trails led off into a stand of trees beside the lake or up into the hills above Mountain Vista.
The killer was in that little knot of trees, pulling out the stones and strips of wood he’d gathered earlier. He laid the pieces out and began assembling them, laying the three types of wood with the stones in the prescribed manner. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming hi
