A sudden chill raked up Erica's spine and she instinctively hugged herself to get warm. Her gaze was drawn to the center of the lake where a filmy mist seemed to be hovering just above the waterline.
All at once she had an overwhelming feeling of sadness bordering on melancholy. Tears sprang into her eyes as she watched the mist thicken, the cloud widen. Then, it swirled around even though there was no breeze.
When the aroma of jasmine rushed up her nostrils, she backed up and almost fell.
The words seemed to spring into her mind and she looked frantically around to see who had spoken, but there was only the gathering darkness. And, of course, the swirling mist.
Okay, this is spooky. I'm out of here. I'll give this another look in the morning.
"Do you know why they call it Spirit Lake?" spoke a deep, resonant voice from just behind her.
Gasping, Erica spun around, her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest.
The moment she saw him she felt her knees go weak and grabbed the back of the nearby bench for support. He was not quite six feet tall, with dark hair and bottomless eyes. She could see that he was well built under the tan shirt and blue jeans he wore. His features were rugged, his skin the same copper tone as Evelyn's.
"Where did you come from? Who are you?" she stammered, her heart racing faster as he moved closer.