Chapter 18
Doug stepped out onto the deck, wearing sweatpants and socks, again wrapped in his Illinois blanket. He’d already resigned himself to stealing it and leaving enough cash to cover the replacement with the cottage’s owners.
Despite the mind-blowing past several hours—with an entirely sensible break for dinner delivery—he gasped at the unbelievable number of stars overhead. After so many years spent mostly under the orange-tinged skies of Atlanta, he’d forgotten the view miles away from any kind of city lights.
Even with the moon already set and unable to brighten up his surroundings, he could still see the deck and yard and trees. The lake had transformed itself into a glittering black blanket.
The aroma of his distant neighbors grilling and the sound of boats on the water wer
