Lover Beware

river was deep enough to swim in, and surrounded by ferns and nikau palms, with the added bonus of a small waterfall plunging off a limestone shelf.
    As she swam, she gradually became aware that aside from the deliciously cool sound of water flowing, the bush had grown silent, as if the approaching storm had cloaked everything in a blanket of humidity, muffling sound. Tension skimmed the length of her spine as she climbed a small sloping rock face, retrieved her towel, and knotted it around her waist. Just minutes ago, Jess had been lying in the shade, happily panting; now she was nowhere to be seen.
    Jane swiveled around, searching the thick bush edge, which was choked with trailing vines of supplejack and thick, spiky coprosmas. Her instinct was to call out to Jess. The little dog was more than likely exploring, but Jane didn’t like the thought that she might have gotten stuck down a hole, or lost in one of the limestone caves. Here, the country was as unpredictable as it was strange, and every now and then, when a piece of limestone eroded enough, a hole simply opened up in the ground.
    Oddly loath to break the silence, Jane held her hands to her mouth and called. A rustling on the other side of the bank drew her gaze. She called again. When there was no response, she reluctantly dropped the towel and climbed back down the rock face and slid into the water. A few strokes took her across to the other side of the river. Grasping moss-covered rock, she hauled herself up the bank to the spot she’d seen the thick clump of ferns move. She parted the coarse leaves, half expecting to find an opening to one of the limestone caves. There was an opening, but it was little more than a shallow concavity in the rock.
    There was no sign of Jess, but the ground was trampled as if someone had hunkered down there, the vantage point high enough that whoever it was had been able to watch her swim.
    Her gaze probed the bush edge, all the fine hairs at her nape lifting as she backed away from the trampled ground, clambered down to the river, and swam across to the other side. The little hidey-hole could have been made by kids coming here to swim and build huts, but the property was isolated. Apart from the Jackson family, who lived a couple of miles away, there were no children who were likely to come and spend time here.
    Snagging her towel, she cinched it around her waist and headed back to the house, calling Jess as she went.
    It wasn’t inconceivable that a feral goat or pig had taken up residence on her land, although that scenario wasn’t likely, because with the threat of tuberculosis from wild animals, most of the surrounding farmers were hot on animal control.
    Maybe she was overreacting, but, whatever—or whoever—had been hunkered down there in the ferns above the swimming hole, she wasn’t taking any chances.
     
    TUCKER’S OFFICE WAS small, cluttered, and smotheringly hot, despite the fact that he had a window open to catch the breeze.
    Jane sat down in the chair adjacent to his desk and set her purse on the floor. “There was someone watching me swim.”
    Tucker’s face was weary. “Join the club. Martha Holbrook said someone was watching her take a bath last night, and Anna Wheeler claims she saw a face at her window while she got undressed, but her husband said it was probably the next-door neighbour’s cat trying to get in the window. You sure it wasn’t kids?”
    “I don’t know who, or what, it was. It could have been kids, I just…”
    “Have a feeling. I know.” He rubbed a hand over his balding head. “The whole town’s having ‘feelings.’ I’ll send Zane out to look around. Is your house secure and alarmed?”
    “It’s secure, but not alarmed. I tried to buy an alarm in Winslow yesterday. They were sold out.”
    Tucker grunted. “Figures. I’ll get Zane to do a check on your locks. Have you considered going to stay with someone until we catch this guy?”
    Jane picked up her purse and got to her feet. She hadn’t expected Tucker to jump through any hoops for her, but all the same, it didn’t make her happy that he was treating the matter so casually. “I’ve got Jess and the hens to feed, and the sheep to keep an eye on. Leaving’s a great idea, but it’s not practical.”
    “What about getting someone to come and stay with you?”
    “I’ll see.”
    The problem was she didn’t really have anyone who was close enough for her to ask that kind of favour. One of the results of