Page 1 of Deadly Storms (Sunrise Lake #3)

Shabina Foster sighed as she shut down the Zoom meeting with her therapist and closed the lid of her laptop.

For one brief moment she rested her head on the top of the lid.

It was always more of the same. She knew exactly what Talia Warren, her therapist, was going to say to her, the same thing she said all the time.

She had PTSD. She should expect to have setbacks.

To have bad days. To have nightmares. Work through them.

Use the tools she’d been given over the years to cope.

Shabina turned her head to look at the three Doberman pinschers crowding around her.

Malik, Sharif and Morza were her constant companions and always knew when she was distressed.

“Great advice. Like I haven’t tried all those so-called tools.

Am I paranoid? Most likely the answer is yes.

Sometimes I think I really am going crazy. ”

Malik pushed up tight against her leg. Automatically she scratched the fur between his ears.

She didn’t know what she’d do without the dogs for comfort—or protection.

They were trained guard dogs. She worked with them every day to keep them sharp.

She needed to know she could stop them if they attacked, or if there were a threat, she could send them to attack.

She glanced out the window at the gathering darkness.

A shiver went down her spine in spite of her determination to be positive.

The ominous feeling she had was nothing but lack of sleep and paranoia.

It wasn’t real. No one was out there watching her.

If someone were in her gardens, the dogs would have alerted.

Squaring her shoulders, she forced a cheery voice.

“Tonight’s our night for entertaining, boys.

If we’re going to have everything ready for our guests, I’d better stop feeling sorry for myself and get moving.

I suppose you boys want your dinner. Who knew you liked to eat?

” She was in the habit of talking aloud to them and was convinced they understood everything she said. Affectionately she patted each of them.

Shabina was an avid bird-watcher. Not only that, but she documented and recorded their migrations.

She noted rare birds and located nesting sites.

She was acknowledged as one of the leading experts in the state.

The data she sent in was documented and kept for the records.

She had special permission to take her dogs on the trails with her when dogs weren’t allowed to go just anywhere in Yosemite.

She hiked alone in the early morning hours on little-known trails to find the birds, and the dogs were her protection unit.

They knew better than to chase anything off the trail.

The dogs were tuned to her every mood and realized she was still distressed as she got up to get them their food.

Two of the large Dobermans followed her closely.

Morza padded over to the bank of windows in the great room and peered out and then began to pace around the room, stopping every few feet to look outside.

She stood watching him, hand to her throat as he patrolled.

It was impossible to see into the house, yet they had an excellent view of the surrounding gardens.

Cameras were placed in strategic places throughout the area.

She should have felt safe. There was a high wall surrounding the house and immediate gardens, but for the last few days, she’d had this terrible darkness invading her mind.

She found herself looking over her shoulder everywhere she went.

She looked at everyone with suspicion, not a good thing when she owned a café.

Sometimes she could barely breathe. She tried to convince herself it was paranoia, that there was no one out there, but she didn’t believe it.

“I’m actually quite happy it’s our turn to have girls’ night here.

” She forced herself to sound cheerful. Sometimes she thought she might be going insane.

She’d been afraid to go to sleep for the last couple of nights.

Her therapist told her she had to sleep, and she had lied and said that wasn’t a problem yet.

It was a good thing her friends were coming over.

She could check in with them. Find out if they thought she was being totally paranoid.

Once every six weeks, Shabina’s five best friends did their best to get together. As a rule, she loved spending time with them and always looked forward to the one night they worked at setting their busy schedules aside so they could come together.

Shabina had a very large four-bedroom home that she’d done her best to make warm and welcoming for her friends.

She had an indoor pool that was very popular with them, and her kitchen was spectacular.

She loved her kitchen. She’d already done all the baking and set food in warmers.

She’d made dog treats because her friends were always welcome to bring their dogs with them and she believed in giving them good healthy treats as well.

The house often smelled of the various baked goods she whipped up.

She liked to try new recipes at home before she used them in her café.

Shabina owned the Sunrise Café. It was her pride and joy.

She had worked hard to get the café off the ground, designing every aspect of it from the building to the dishes to the daily menus.

She served breakfast and lunch only. The specials changed depending on her mood.

It had always been her dream to open her own little café.

She hadn’t wanted a big restaurant. She wanted a small boutique diner where she created the menu and could interact with her customers.

In the beginning, her business had mostly been a deli, with take-out sandwiches and a few special orders, but it had quickly grown and now was a full restaurant with seating outside on the patio and inside the large newly renovated building.

Her parents had paid for her education, but she had worked hard to earn the money for her business.

She did have a silent partner. It had been impossible to swing the amount of money she needed on her own, and she didn’t want to take any more from her parents.

Their loan would have come with conditions she didn’t want to meet.

Thankfully, her silent partner remained very silent and gave her no input whatsoever. Just start-up money.

It was Stella Harrison, the glue that held all the women together, who had truly been the miracle worker to make the Sunrise Café such a success.

“I have to remember she’s Stella Harrison-Rossi now, boys,” Shabina murmured aloud.

“She’s married to Sam. I keep forgetting that little detail.

It seems like Sam’s always been around and nothing has changed, so it’s hard to remember they actually got married. ”

Shabina, like most of the other business owners in the town of Knightly, attributed her success to Stella’s brilliant business plan.

Stella had turned two failing resorts into an extremely successful multimillion-dollar business.

She’d done it by including the smaller, faltering businesses of Knightly.

Knightly was a small town made famous for the boulders that climbers came from all over the world to ascend.

Stella had gone to many of the smaller places in town, such as the Brewery, a small pub owned by Bruce Akins, a great bear of a man who brewed fantastic beer.

She’d talked him into giving tours of his brewery to the high-end clientele at her resort.

They’d marketed his beer as being extremely rare and difficult to get.

Consequently, he’d been able to secure lucrative contracts with private clubs in Los Angeles, making his beer even more sought after.

Stella had approached Alek Donovan, owner of the local Grill, a floundering restaurant at the time, and talked him into including music at night and changing his entire menu.

Shabina had helped with the menu, and Alek had added recipes from his mother’s side of the family.

Raine had created brochures, and overnight the Grill had become a local hot spot and success with tourists and resort people.

Most important, Stella had made the Sunrise Café a huge destination for anyone coming to visit in Knightly.

She’d practically campaigned to put the café on the map.

Shabina was grateful for her friendship as well as the fact that Stella had so generously aided her in making the café such a success from the very start.

The dogs ate their food with relish. She gave them hearty meals, making certain what they ate was nutritious.

Shabina showed love with food. Each of her friends had their own dog—or in Vienna Mortenson’s case, a Persian cat very aptly named Princess.

The cat ruled Vienna’s household. Vienna was head of Search and Rescue, a brilliant surgical nurse, gorgeous and practical, but she was a complete pushover for her cat.

Despite the ominous feeling she couldn’t shake, just the thought of Vienna and her cat made Shabina smile.

Vienna had been certain her cat would become friends with the dogs.

None of the dogs were opposed to the friendship.

They didn’t chase cats. They didn’t look at them with great disdain, but Princess not only snubbed dogs, she attacked viciously if they came anywhere near her, using teeth and claws in a feral manner.

The dogs could have torn her to pieces, but instead they ran away and refused to go anywhere near the cat.