Page 3 of In Dangerous Water

And I had for about two weeks.

The second blue envelope had been sent in the mail to my family’s house. Similar in style, this time they had used an old swimwear advertisement that I and my Olympic relay team had posed for. Beneath it was a message made from cut out letters—from what I guessed was other magazines—that spelled out:You don’t deserve any of it, you bitch!

The silver medal I’d been wearing had been poked through on the picture, and the hole had been scribbled around with red ink, making it appear as though I’d been stabbed.

I had taken the second letter straight to my sister Brynn’s new boyfriend, Austin Callahan, since he was the lead detective with the Alton police department. We’d had a serious talk about it; I passed along the first message I’d received, as well. He promised me he would look into it.

Tim, my wonderful boyfriend of the past few years, was very concerned. He went into a huddle with Austin, and the two of them gave me a big talk about my personal security. Tim already knew my schedule, and he began to keep tabs on me…which at first was endearing.

Then it had turned annoying.

My sisters had rallied around me. We added a few more doorbell cameras to the house and beefed up the security of our historic home. Kenna conjured up protective amulets, and Brynn created a pair of herbal sachets: one sachet for me to carry and the other to keep in my office to repel negativity. Skye worked protection spells too, and so had I. For a time, they’d seemed to be holding.

A week had passed and nothing else had happened. So, I had begun to relax.

Now a third blue envelope had been left on the windshield of my car.

They were growing bolder and not bothering to use the mail this time. Which meant they had walked right up to my car, and most likely had delivered the envelope themselves. Whoever had sent these knew where I worked, where I lived, and also what car I drove.

More angry than frightened, I decided to tap into my emotions and try a scrying. “Let’s see if I can pick up anything about whoever is doing this…”

I held the latest message in my hand, closed my eyes, and concentrated. Typically, I had good luck using psychometry—psychic touch—to read objects. Right now, I was hoping to gain an impression or an image of whoever had left the envelope on my windshield.

The vibrations coming off the paper and envelope were strong. Jealousy, envy and hatred swirled off the page and made theskin on my hand begin to feel hot and itchy. My stomach clenched against the onslaught of negativity, but I pushed past it.

“Give me more than their emotions,” I whispered, even as I acknowledged them. “Give me a picture, show mesomethingI can use.”

In my mind’s eye I saw a figure wearing an oversized, gray, hooded sweatshirt. The hood was pulled up and over their head, making it impossible to tell if they were male or female. They walked briskly up to my car and lifted the wiper with a gloved hand. Then this person tucked the envelope beneath and quickly strode away.

The vision faded and it left me with a dull headache and an upset stomach. I blew out a long breath and rested my head back against the driver’s seat headrest. My empathy had rolled into clairvoyance exactly as I’d hoped. I’d gotten a brief image of the person—stalker—for all the good that did me…but at least it wassomething.

With a shaking hand, I put the letter back in the envelope and tucked it carefully inside my swim bag. Checking my rearview, I backed out of my parking space.

Rain had begun to fall by the time I returned home. Pulling my blue Bug into our driveway, I hit the remote and the gate at the entrance slid closed behind me. The brick courtyard and patio at the rear of our Italianate Federal house looked moody and spooky in the rain, even though it was lit by a decorative lamp post. Solar lights lit the brick pathway to the back door, as well as around and down to my lower-level entry on the side of the house.

Although, that night I didn’t walk around to my private entrance. Instead I climbed from my car, managed two steps,and then staggered. Shaking my head to clear the dizziness, I blew out a breath.

I tipped my face up to the rain. “Element of water, wash away any negativity I may have absorbed from that hate-filled letter,” I whispered. Staying where I was, I drew in power from the rain. After a bit, I squared my shoulders and walked resolutely toward the back door on the main level of the house.

The boost I’d received from the element drained away in the short time it took me to make the entrance to the house. It had been a very long day, and I was feeling it. My stomach began to churn, and that dull headache from earlier slammed back to life. I had barely let myself inside when I came up short, discovering that my second eldest sister, Skye, was standing there waiting for me.

“It happened again, didn’t it?” she asked without preamble.

I sighed and let my swim bag drop to the floor. “Lovely to see you too, Skye.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I had the strongest psychic impression about ten minutes ago. Something about you doing a psychometry reading in your car.”

Instead of replying, I took off my jacket and hung it up to dry on the hooks by the back door.

“Cordelia,” she said firmly. “Answer me.”

Deliberately, I brushed at the raindrops that clung to my jacket. “I’m not a child, Skye.”

“No, you’re not,” she agreed quickly. “But I am worried. You are a well-known Olympic athlete—”

“Who’s retired from competitive swimming,” I reminded her.

“—and you’re a woman who has been having issues with a possible stalker,” Skye finished as if I’d never interrupted her.

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