Delanie pulled her shorts on and slid a t-shirt over her bikini. There was something wonderful between her and Sam. She knew this guy was the one. Well, maybe not the one, but he had the potential to be the one.



A few more weeks of solitude on this lovely island would give them the time and the atmosphere to become a real couple. Maybe that was the way she needed to build a relationship.



Get the guy alone, spend loads of time with him and fall in love. Whoa there, don't even think of love girl.

She picked up her sandals and ran up the beach towards the house. Sam was staying on the sailboat to finish the repairs. One more hour and then he said it would be done.



Once she hit the path to the house she slipped on her shoes and walked the rest of the way. She envisioned a romantic dinner with candlelight by the pool. Maybe some fresh cut flowers. When she arrived she'd seen the floating candles, maybe this was the night to pull them out. The floating candleholders had been somewhere strange.



The laundry closet? No.



The sideboard in the dining room? No.



The pool house? Yes. Tonight was the night to pull those out. Now that she remembered where they were she could really make this evening special. Sam would appreciate the effort. The dinner would be great. They could get to know each other.



Delanie hopped into the shower, grateful for the time to get cleaned up. After dressing in a cute sundress she pulled the food out of the fridge.



She made her way out to the pool house to grab the candles but she saw some white flowers on her way. The flowers would make a beautiful arrangement for the centerpiece. She went back to the kitchen and grabbed the kitchen shears then went back out to cut the flowers.



After cutting three stems she realized that she didn't have any water for them. The pool house had a vase that would work perfect for this arrangement. She opened the door of the two-room pool bungalow, surprised that the place smelled a little stale.



She threw open the windows, letting the breeze take away the smell. It was almost like something had begun to decay.



The vase sat empty on the counter top above the candle storage cabinet. She pulled out the candles, the holders and some scented oil.



Even the putrid smell in the bungalow wouldn't get her down. There wasn't any problem she couldn't deal with. She and Sam would talk tonight, maybe even make some plans about their future. Her heart swelled and her body heated.



As she passed by the bathroom she heard a buzzing sound. She opened the bathroom door and flies swarmed out the door. The scream of terror from her lips scared her as much as the flies. She jumped back, closing the door but it didn't do any good. There still were flies in the room, getting in her hair and on her face. She ran out the front door, swatting at the bugs, trying to clear the air in front of her face.



She screamed again, twice more just to get rid of her frustration. What the hell had died in her bathroom? She opened the bungalow's door, afraid of what she would find.



The buzzing of the flies was now a defined sound, something she could identify. Before she'd thought it was the air conditioner, but now she knew it wasn't.



She crept to the bathroom, her heart beating wildly. Her hand stayed on the doorknob for a full minute before she had the courage to push it open.



With her free hand she covered her mouth and nose with a cloth napkin, hoping to keep the flies out.



After some of the flies had cleared she saw the cause of the mess. It was a cat. A black and white tom that looked similar to Mikey, the cat she'd been featured with two months ago in a spread for perfume.



"What the hell?"



Delanie backed out of the bathroom, still clutching the napkin over her mouth. She gagged once, then again.



The candles and the vase would have to wait. Sam could help her dispose of the cat. What the hell was she supposed to do with it? The owner hadn't said anything about a cat.



She hadn't seen any references to the cat in the literature nor had she heard anything about a pet on the island. She sat down on one of the lounge chairs, letting her breath grow even and her head to stop pounding.



If she stayed like this for too long she'd drift off to sleep. Sleep wouldn't help her get dinner made. Later, after dinner, and after a long talk she could sleep. Hopefully cuddled in Sam's arms.



She opened her eyes, surprised to find Sam already back from the boat. She could make out his movements inside the house. The sound of something crashing to the ground made her jump.



"What are you doing?" She called out but the words died on her lips as Sam came traipsing up the hill from the lagoon.



She jumped up from her chair and ran at Sam. She caught him and dragged him back behind a bush. The words wanted to spill out but fear had stolen her voice.



"What is it?"



"Someone, they're here. In the house."



"In the house?"



"Yeah, there's a dead cat and then there was someone in the house."



"Dead cat?"



"It doesn't matter now. There's a guy in the house, he's breaking things."



"Let me go look."



"No, what if he hurts you."



"Shh, sweetie, I'll be fine."



She watched in horror as Sam snuck up the pathway to the house. The suspense was killing her. She moved forward, unable to hang back.



By the time she had made it halfway to the house she'd already freaked herself out. Sweat poured down her face. Tears stung her eyes. Damn, there was no way she could help Sam if that guy had a gun. They should have made a run for it.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011