Judy helped paddle the boat, and they rounded another curve. The trees made shadows on the lake, creepy ones like demons reaching out to snag them. She'd rather enjoyed the shadows during the sunlight. Mirror images had come to mind. Reflec...tions. She gasped. There'd be no time to reflect. A man in a pirogue glided toward them upon the still, night waters. He seemed to rise out of a mist like a ghost, and she shivered as she slapped another mosquito from her arm.
Mere hours ago, Dead Lake had rippled in the early-morning misty fog, and she'd agreed to go on this adventure with her husband, despite the prophetic feeling of doom that assaulted every nerve in her body. She frowned as the SUV pulled into Dead Lake Park and commented, "Isn't it something that a prisoner escaped less than a mile from our house last night? Gives me the creeps." Judy didn't want to go out in the boat. A deep sense of foreboding clutched her heart.
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