by Jana DeLeon
She dried off her body then wrapped the towel around her head before stepping out of the tub to grab the shorts and T-shirt she’d draped across the vanity. A draft of chilly night air wafted through the bathroom and she quickly pulled the clothes on. The days were still warm and humid, but the temperatures dropped at night, especially in the swamp.
As she reached for her hairbrush, she heard the floor creak at the front of the cabin. Immediately, she froze, trying to lock in on the noise. Then it came again, the faintest creak of the floorboards.
Someone was in the cabin with her.
Mentally cursing herself for leaving her pistol in her purse, she scanned the bathroom for anything that made a viable weapon and grabbed the scissors from the vanity. She inched over to the bathroom door and eased it open, praying that the hinges didn’t squeak. When the door was open enough for her to edge through it, she peered down the hall toward the living room, but couldn’t see anything moving.
The sounds of the swamp were the only things that broke the still night air, and she wondered if the intruder had gone. Or maybe she’d been wrong and no one had ever been inside with her. Maybe the stress of her situation and her overworked imagination were getting the best of her.
She eased down the hall toward the living room, clutching the scissors and praying she’d blown the entire thing out of proportion. When she reached the opening to the living room, she scanned the room as much as possible without stepping into it, but nothing appeared out of place.
You’re an idiot.
Shaking her head, she stepped from the hallway into the living room, and that was when he sprang. In an instant, he grabbed her shoulder with one hand and wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling it so tightly she couldn’t breathe.
Before her mind could even process what was happening, instinct kicked in and she stabbed his arm with the scissors. He let out a roar and released her, shoving her into the hallway as he ran for the door.
She stumbled backward, barely managing not to fall, then rushed back into the living room as the intruder yanked open the front door. She lunged for the kitchen table and grabbed her purse, pulling her pistol from inside. Before she could get off a round, the intruder dashed out the front door.
She ran across the room and scanned the front of the cabin, but couldn’t see anything in the inky blackness. Still clutching her pistol, she slammed the door and locked it, then grabbed her cell phone and started to dial Carter when she remembered he was in New Orleans. Cursing, she punched in Zach’s number, praying that the connection was strong enough on both ends for the call to go through.
It was all she could do to keep from crying out in relief when he answered on the second ring.
“There was someone in my cabin,” she blurted out before he even finished his greeting. “I heard something when I got out of the shower and I thought I’d imagined it, but then he grabbed me and I stabbed him with my scissors. Then he ran and I grabbed my gun, but it was too late. He disappeared into the swamp before I could fire.”
Her breath came out in a giant whoosh and she realized she’d been holding it through the entire delivery.
“Are you all right?” Zach’s voice sounded as panicked as she felt. “I’m on my way. Lock the doors and don’t you dare put down that gun. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“Don’t hang up, okay?”
“I won’t.”
Danae hurried to the corner of the living room opposite the door and sank down into a squatting position next to the couch. This way, she had the advantage over anyone entering the room. A quick scan of the living room and kitchen revealed no broken glass, and she was certain she’d drawn the dead bolt on the front door as soon as she’d entered the cabin. Clearly he hadn’t entered that way, but it didn’t look as if he’d come through a window, either, so where had he gained access?
Part of her wanted to get up and look for the point of entry, but the other part wanted everything to do with self-preservation and nothing to do with things that could wait until Zach arrived.
“Are you still there?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m in my truck, but I’m going to have to put the phone down. I need both hands to negotiate the roads at high speed.”
“Okay,” she said and clutched the phone even tighter. She could hear Zach’s truck engine and silently willed it to move faster, but she knew speed was next to impossible on the winding, bumpy roads.
A second later, her phone beeped once then went silent.
“No!” She looked at the display, but service had dropped to nothing.
Surely he was almost there. It had been several minutes since she’d called, right? It felt like longer than that, so he had to be close.
Breathe.
Realizing that she was beginning to panic, she took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Never had she felt so vulnerable, so completely exposed, as she did right now, and it was a feeling she didn’t know how to handle.
The crunch of gravel had her springing up from her hiding place, and she ran to the window to peek outside. Relief flooded her when she saw Zach jump out of his truck and run for the door. She managed to get it open just as he arrived and he rushed inside, then clutched her shoulders, looking her up and down.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
The worry and care in his voice and expression were so clear that it made her heart ache. She shook her head, afraid to speak, and a single sob escaped. Instantly, he drew her into his arms and held her close to him, running his hand down her hair and whispering in her ear that she was safe.
She clutched him, her arms clenched around his strong back, and buried her head in his shoulder, crying openly and afraid she’d never be able to let him go.
Finally, the last tear ran down her cheek and her breathing began to return to normal. She pushed herself back enough to look at him.
“I’m sorry—” she began.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said. “Someone attacked you in your home. Anyone would have been terrified.”
“I was,” she said and looked down, almost embarrassed that she’d been so scared.
He placed his finger under her chin and tilted her head back up until she met his gaze. “But you fought back and got away,” he said. “You’re a strong, brave woman.”
Her heart pounded in her throat, and more than anything, she wanted him to kiss her. No matter how hard she’d tried to resist her attraction to Zach, her body always betrayed her. It came alive when he was close to her, in a way she’d never felt before. Her heart beat stronger, her skin was more sensitive and her head felt as if she were walking on the moon.
She felt her body lean forward, anticipating the kiss, but instead, he released her and scanned the cabin.
“How did he get in?” he asked.
Her mind leaped back to reality and she realized they could be at risk standing here.
“I don’t know,” she said, her fear returning. “I started to look around after I called you but then I thought it was smarter to remain stationary with a clear view of all entry points.”
He smiled. “Definitely smarter. Most people wouldn’t have thought of it. Let’s check the cabin.”
She nodded. “There’s not much to it, so that’s an advantage. I drew the dead bolt on the front door as soon as I walked inside, so he didn’t get in that way.”
He scanned the floors in the kitchen and living room. “I don’t see any glass, but let’s check the windows. I’m sure you keep them locked, right?”
“You know it,” she said as she moved to check the window on the far wall as Zach checked the front living-room window.
“All locked tight,” he said and moved into the kitchen to check the small window over the sink. “This one, too.”
They walked down the hall and checked the two bedroom windows but they were locked tight.
“I don’t understand,” Danae said. “The bathroom window is no more than a vent slot. Only a very small child could fi
t through there and they’d have to have a ladder to reach it. So how did he get in?”
Zach frowned. “My guess is through the front door.”
She sucked in a breath. “He was already inside when I got home. I literally locked him inside with me. How many keys to LeBeau property are walking around this town?”
She dropped down onto the edge of the bed, her mind racing with all the possibilities of what could have happened. “But that makes no sense. When I got home, I headed straight for the shower. He could have attacked me then and there’s no way I could have defended myself.”
“I know, which leaves us with two possibilities—either he was trying to scare you or you aren’t what he was here for.”
“But what else is there? This cabin doesn’t hold the collectibles that the main house does. Every stitch of furniture and decor in this place probably wouldn’t bring a hundred dollars at a garage sale.”
“Maybe he thinks you have something valuable.”
“A café waitress? Not likely.”
“An heiress,” he corrected. “Far more likely.”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Everyone in town knows we haven’t inherited yet. There’s no reason for them to expect I have anything of more value than I came to town with, and I haven’t had any trouble until now.”
“Maybe he thinks you took something of value from the house.”
She frowned. “I suppose that’s possible, but all I took was paperwork. The paperwork!”
She jumped up from the bed and ran into the kitchen, but the box of paperwork still sat next to the dining table.
“Is it all there?” Zach asked.
She reached into the box and pulled out a stack of paper. “It looks like it, but I thought I put those notebooks you took from Purcell’s bedroom on top. Now they’re wedged below some other papers.”
“Maybe he was going through the paperwork while you were in the shower and wasn’t able to find what he was looking for before you finished. When you came down the hall, he couldn’t get out in time, so he attacked you instead.”
Her heart began to pound in her temples. “He was inside the main house today. That’s the only way he could know I took the paperwork home with me.”
Zach nodded. “That’s what Carter and I believe.”
“We’re going to have to watch everything we say—whisper or go into our cars to talk—but I refuse to stop my investigation. I must be onto something if he’s willing to risk coming inside my cabin. If I’d been able to get my pistol in time, I would have shot him without hesitation.”
“I know you would have. It’s one of the things I like best about you.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, the unexpected comment made her smile. “So what now? Carter won’t be back until tomorrow, and I don’t see the point in calling this in. He was wearing gloves, and I haven’t found the scissors, so I have to assume he took them with him. He didn’t even stick around long enough to leave a speck of blood.”
“We’ll tell Carter tomorrow when he gets back. In the meantime, pack up some clothes. You can stay with me in the caretaker’s cabin.”
“No.” Her reaction was instant. “Surely he’s not stupid enough to come back here tonight.”
“I’m not going to bet on it. The caretaker’s cabin is basically one big room and a bathroom. It’s even easier to secure than this place, plus I have some spare locks that I can use to change the ones on your place and the house tomorrow.”
“You carry around spare locks?”
“Contractor, remember? I do a lot of rehab work. The last thing I want is equipment walking away in the middle of the night because I was foolish enough to leave the old locks in place.”
Tired, frustrated and knowing she didn’t have a good argument to the contrary, she rose from the bed and pulled a backpack out of the tiny closet.
“Give me a minute to pack,” she said. “And I want to bring the paperwork with us. If that’s what he’s after, then the last thing I want to do is make it easy on him.”
Chapter Fifteen
Zach pushed open the door to the caretaker’s cabin with one hand and clutched his shotgun with the other. It only took him a minute to ensure the cabin was empty, then he hurried back to his truck to open the door for Danae.
“Go ahead inside,” he said. “I’ll grab the box.”
She jumped out of the truck, hesitating long enough to scan the swamp on each side of the cabin, then hustled inside. He grabbed the box from the backseat and followed close behind her.
She stood in the middle of the small room, clutching her backpack and looking extremely uneasy.
“There’s only the pullout sofa,” he said as he placed the box on the kitchen counter. “Amos gives minimalist living a whole new definition, but I can take the recliner. It appears to be the one thing the man splurged on.”
“I can’t ask you to give up your bed.”
“Who said you are? Make yourself comfortable...if that’s possible. Are you hungry?”
“No,” she said as she dropped her backpack on the floor and sank onto the couch “My stomach’s kind of in a knot.”
“A drink, then.” He grabbed a couple of glasses from the cabinet and poured them both half-full with scotch.
“A happy client gave this to me,” he said as he handed her the glass and took a seat beside her. “I’m normally a beer guy, but I have to admit, this is really smooth.”
She took a sip and nodded. “I’ve bartended long enough to know this is expensive. He must have been really happy.”
Zach took a sip and nodded. “Happy and loaded. I figured it wasn’t cheap as he took it out of his own collection, but I’ve been afraid to look it up. I figure I’ll never be able to afford another bottle.”
She took another drink and stared straight ahead, and for a moment, he wondered if she’d even heard a word he’d just said.
“She was an addict,” Danae said quietly. “Rose—the woman who took me in. It started with alcohol, but eventually, it wasn’t enough.”
He froze, wavering between being thrilled that Danae was finally talking to him and wanting to express outrage at what she’d just said.
“I’m sorry,” he said, deciding keeping it simple was best. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for you.”
“Awful, horrible, terrible... All those words put together aren’t enough to describe it. Living hell may be as close as I could come.”
She took a deep breath and blew it out. Wisely, he kept silent, afraid that if he asked a question, she would stop talking.
“We had a house at first,” she continued. “A shack, really, about this size, but it had four walls and a good roof, and we were happy there. Until we weren’t. With her issues, Rose didn’t hold jobs for very long, but she managed okay when it was just alcohol. When I hit junior high, she tried cocaine, and later, heroin.”
Her eyes grew misty and he slid closer to her, taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze.
“I wasn’t really surprised when we lost the house. The landlord had been more than understanding, but he had bills to pay, as well. We lived at a shelter for a while, but when they caught Rose using, they kicked us out. For a while we lived in her car. Then she met some guy at the truck stop she was waitressing at, and we moved in with him. I think she’d known him less than a week.”
“That’s so dangerous,” he said.
Danae nodded. “It was—is—but that didn’t stop Rose. The worst part is, I can’t even tell you his name. He was the first of many men that Rose used for shelter and money. The fix was really all she cared about.”
“Was she physically abusive?”
“Not often, but it happened. Usually, she wasn’t mean when she was high or drunk. She was just...I don’t know—checked out, I guess. I don’t think Rose’s childhood was all that great. I always figured she was hiding from her past with a bottle or a needle.”
“She should never have taken you in, kno
wing she had problems.”
“I’m sure she did it for the money. Twenty thousand dollars probably covered Rose’s meager expenses and alcohol for years. She never cared anything about having me around, except to wait on her and clean house, but she was only physically abusive a couple of times. The men were another story.”
Zach felt his back tighten. “Did they...?” He clenched his free hand into a fist, unable to even finish the question.
“No, nothing like that.”
Relief coursed through him so strong it made him dizzy. “Thank God.”
“But that’s the direction it was going. Once I turned thirteen and started to develop, I saw the way they looked at me. Even then, I understood what it meant and how wrong it was. I also knew that not only would Rose not be strong enough to defend me, but that for the right offer at the right time, she may even sell me. So I left when I was fifteen.”
“And went where?”
“A rent-by-the week motel far enough away from Rose that she wouldn’t find me. I’d been hustling on the street for a while. Nothing illegal—at least, not that I’m aware of. Mostly delivery for local businesses. I was cheaper than delivery services or gas and parking fees.”
Zach stared, trying to wrap his mind around a fifteen-year-old girl managing on her own. “What kind of motel rents a room to a minor?”
“Probably any in that area of town, but I had ID that said I was eighteen. That’s the only illegal thing I’ve ever done. There was a guy who lived down the block from one of Rose’s many shack-ups. He dealt in fake IDs, social security cards, that sort of thing.”
Suddenly, something that Zach had wondered about fell into place. “That’s how you were able to come here under an assumed name and not raise any questions. You had identification.”
She gave him a questioning look.
“Carter told me,” he explained. “Jack scowled at him a couple of times and I asked about it. He brought me up to speed on the local gossip.”
“Before I came to Calais, I wandered around from town to town, but nothing ever felt right. I met some nice people, but I didn’t get close to anyone. I couldn’t afford to when I was a minor. I was afraid I’d be put into the system. I’d met street kids who’d been in the system and it didn’t sound any better than living with Rose.”
