Boomer Ward. Jeff King’s best friend. What a coincidence that he was returning to Indigo Valley at the same time she was. Her fire-and-brimstone-spouting father would probably call it divine intervention or something equally silly.

She struggled with her memory. Did she ever know that Boomer’s name was Maxwell? She didn’t think so. She wondered what they called him now that he was an adult? Probably Max or perhaps Mac. Did it even matter?

Cady looked down at her plate. The waffles had gone cold. She scraped them onto Atlas’s dish. The shepherd ignored them.

Had Boomer been at the pond that awful day? The newspaper articles she’d read last night hadn’t mentioned him. That was strange because Jeff and Boomer had always been together. How awful he must have felt when Jeff died. Boomer had never been as mean spirited as Jeff. And now he was going to be the town’s new police chief. Was it an omen of some kind?

She reached for her coffee cup, relieved to see that her hand was now steady. Would she undergo these same strange, fearful feelings when she met up with Pete Danson and the Hollister twins for the first time?

Time for a shower and maybe an hour or two of sleep. She needed to be fresh and alert when Lola did her interview with the local paper. She hated the idea of being put on display.

But, if Lola wanted her to do it, she would.

“Let’s go, Atlas,” she said, heading upstairs.

The shepherd uncurled himself and was on his feet the moment Cady spoke. He walked ahead of her and up the back staircase to the second floor.

At the top of the stairs, Atlas turned to look at his mistress as though unsure where he should go. “It’s okay. Go see Lola. I’m going to take a shower and lie down.” The shepherd obediently trotted down the hall to Lola’s room.

When she closed her eyes, she promised herself not to fall asleep. All she needed was ten minutes of quiet to give the aspirin time to work. She snuggled her head into the pillow and found the most comfortable spot. There was nothing like the feel of a silk pillow-case next to your cheek. The scent of freshly mowed grass wafted in through the French doors. Her last thought before she slipped away was that this was what heaven must be like.

The dream when it came was more frightening than ever before. The fear was choking off her air supply as she struggled to find a hiding place and still not make a sound. How was that going to be possible, she wondered as she gasped to take in air?

She saw them creeping up like brush rats to spy on her friends. She hugged the ground, her hand clamped over her mouth as she prayed she wouldn’t have to sneeze or cough. “Don’t let them see me, please don’t let them see me,” she prayed, making no sound as she mouthed the words.