If she’d had a pair of binoculars, Daphne Peters probably could have seen inside the house she’d just escaped. It was on the other side of the lake—the touristy side. She felt safer here among the locals in Lakeland proper, but that might have been because it was late and the sidewalks had already been rolled up for the night. For the past few hours, she’d been hiding behind a hedge at the rear of The Edgar Warner Memorial Library, intermittently scoping out the lake house, sweating to death, and swatting mosquitoes the size of vultures.

Once, she’d seen a figure walk along the shoreline in front of the house and cut up into the yard. Her spine tingled and her throat closed up. She couldn’t definitively make out who it was, but she thought it was a man. Now that the sun had gone down, there was no point in keeping watch.

The three-story brick Victorian mansion that housed the library boasted a windowed cupola and a widow’s walk. A lacy wrought iron fence surrounded the entire property, including the prickly hedge that was currently giving Daphne an itch. Excessive heat warnings had been issued earlier in the day, urging people to check on their elderly or infirm neighbors, and suggesting that those without air conditioning seek refuge from the sizzling temperatures by visiting malls and grocery stores.

Sunset hadn’t brought any relief from the heat. In fact, the air had only grown more humid and stickier. Daphne desperately needed to hydrate. She was so thirsty that the constant drip of condensation from a second-floor window air conditioner in the mansion seemed tempting.

The library had closed hours ago. She’d listened to the last patrons chatting as they left, and heard the wrought iron gate swing shut behind them. According to the sign in the yard out front, the library wouldn’t reopen until nine a.m. Daphne’s knees were stiff from crouching. She took a chance and stood, stretching her legs and her aching back. Her skin was clammy and her cheeks were hot. She felt her pulse pounding in her neck and knew she was edging closer to heat stroke. Desperate for a drink, she snuck closer to the macadam parking pad at the rear of the library. She stayed close to the hedge, and kept her eye on the spotlight mounted at the corner of the back porch for fear it was motion-activated.

The wet spot under the air conditioner was the size of a VW bug—the unit must have been running all day, which meant it was cool inside the library. Cooler than it had been hiding in the hedge, anyway. Daphne wouldn’t risk breaking into the building, but she was hoping her eyes hadn’t been deceiving her when she’d spied several cases of bottled water stacked up next to the back door. She licked her lips and tasted salt. How she hoped the bottles weren’t a mirage.

Now that she’d edged closer, she realized what she’d thought was a spotlight was just an empty socket—the bulb had been removed from the fixture. She darted to the stacked-up cases on the porch, which were indeed water. Hallelujah! She stabbed her fingers through the tough plastic and dug out a squat little bottle.

She gulped one bottle down without breathing, then dug in the case for a second. It wasn’t stealing, she told herself, it was surviving. She came up for air after the second bottle, but she still felt thirsty. She was reaching for a third when the back door swung open and someone said “don’t move.”

Daphne couldn’t have run if she’d wanted to. Her legs were jelly and her head pounded. “I’m not breaking in, I swear,” she said, holding her hands up in the air. “I needed water, that’s all, and I can pay you for it.”

A woman stepped out onto the porch. She was Daphne’s age—thirty-something, but unlike Daphne, the woman was tall and sophisticated and dressed to the nines. She wore stiletto heels, and had glossy red lips. Her blonde hair was swept into an updo. The only thing that didn’t go with the look was the Louisville Slugger she held menacingly. “Put your hands down,” she said.

Daphne complied. “I’m really sorry. I’ll pay for the water.”

The woman looked her over. “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry.” Daphne started to slide past the woman. “I’m going.”

“Wait.” The woman blocked Daphne’s path with her bat. “I saw you out front earlier.”

Daphne nodded. “I was going to come in, but … I changed my mind.” She wasn’t afraid of the library patrons, but she hadn’t wanted to be trapped inside the building if Alex had shown up.

The woman held open the door. “Why don’t you come in now?”