by Kathi Macias
There it was again—that feeling that someone was watching her every move, dogging her every step. For months now it had plagued her, intensifying with each passing day. And yet there was nothing—nothing at all to explain her growing paranoia. Nothing that she could call by name, anyway. Only a vague, creeping sense of foreboding, hovering just overhead.
Kate shivered in spite of the hot, dry wind that blew through the small town of Cedar City, Utah, tossing her short blond curls as she walked out of the bank where she worked and turned toward her lawyer’s office five blocks away. Kate didn’t mind the summer heat that had simmered over southwestern Utah for the last few weeks. What she hated were the long, cold, confining winters when the snow lay white and glistening over the entire town. Everything was frozen during the winter, and cold weather depressed her, reminding her of all she had lost.