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Glancing up, he spotted a signal buoy. He kicked to the surface.
    “Over here,” Walt shouted from a new position onshore.
    Josh pulled the regulator from his mouth. “What’s up?”
    “You wanted me to let you know if your cell phone rang.”
    His pulse jerked. Bec? “What’s the caller ID?”
    “Hunter Madison.”
    Josh’s heart settled back into a steady rhythm. “Okay, let it go to voice mail. I’ll call him when I’m finished.” Hunter probably just wanted to check on where to put the cameras.
    Josh dived back under and swept his light in widening arcs. The fish had gone into hiding. Hopefully, Bec’s prowler wouldn’t do the same. The last thing Bec needed was weeks of worrying if and when the intruder would show up again.
    He winged a prayer skyward that God would help him catch the guy quickly.
    The water was crystal clear, tinted a nice aquamarine, thanks to the limestone. Maybe he’d bring Bec here sometime with the dog. She might get a kick out of hunting for fossils in the rocks. It’d help take her mind off her troubles for a while. That and going out in her grandfather’s old Cadillac.
    Her eyes had lit up at the prospect, and he couldn’t deny he was more than happy to fulfill that particular wish.
    Overhead, the water grew choppy from the car breaking the surface.
    Josh waited for the tow truck to haul the car out onto the flat rock overlooking the mini-lake and then did a final sweep of the area, his thoughts already back at the farm.
    Finding nothing, he kicked to the surface and climbed out.
    Walt handed him a towel. “There’s nothing suspicious in the car. What do you make of it?”
    Josh yanked off his regulator and mask and dragged his mind back to the investigation. “There’s no body. Kids likely stole the car for a joyride, then ditched the evidence.” More likely kids in this case than the incident in Bec’s barn...unfortunately.
    “Kids don’t usually think to pull plates.”
    “True. Could’ve been used in a crime, then dumped.” Josh scrubbed his hair dry with the towel. “Get any hits with the car’s make and model?”
    “Nope, not within Niagara anyway. No unrecovered Plymouths of any model reported stolen in the last two years.”
    “So not insurance fraud.”
    Walt shrugged. “Could be from another region.”
    “That car hasn’t been down there more than a week.” Josh walked around the car and then, stepping back, studied the distinctive rear taillights.
    “You recognize something?” Walt asked.
    “Yeah.” Josh clenched the towel in his fist. “I think it’s the same car I saw pull out of a farmer’s field near my place last night...around the same time my new neighbor was attacked by a prowler.”
    * * *
    Becki headed to the car to grab the last of her boxes and froze. A stone’s throw away, a black SUV idled in Josh’s driveway. The dark-haired guy behind the wheel squinted at her, then turned off his engine.
    Her breath caught. Was he the prowler?
    She glanced around. Where was Tripod?
    The SUV’s door opened, and the guy’s enormous boots hit the gravel with a thud. Boots that could dispense with Josh’s three-legged dog in one swift kick.
    The guy peeled off a jacket and slapped a ball cap on his head, exposing tattooed, steely arms. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in two days. Army-olive fatigues completed the impression of a mercenary looking for action. The guy reached behind his seat.
    Josh’s words blasted through her mind. Some guys would just as soon shoot a witness as run away.
    Becki whirled on her heel and ran for the house.
    “Hey, hold up there. Are you Bec?”
    Bec? She stopped two yards from the door. Josh was the only one who called her that. This had to be the friend he’d called about borrowing the cameras. She turned slowly and backed up another couple of steps just to be safe. “Who wants to know?”
    A friendly grin—not in the least bit mercenary—dented his cheeks. “I’m Hunter.” He lifted his hand. A