by Lisa Jackson
She thought about how he’d pressed that blade against her cheek, how he’d threatened her with the razor-sharp edge, and she quivered inside. She would never let herself get into that position again. Never.
Her fingers ached, but she wouldn’t give up. “Come on, you miserable thing!” She hunched her shoulders, pulled back and felt the nail wiggle crazily.
“Come on!”
With one final tug the nail was free.
Dani nearly fell backwards.
Heart pounding, she stared at the long spike and curled her sock-clad fingers around the shaft. Yes! Freedom from the creep was within her grasp. She wanted to bolt out the door at this very minute but knew that would be suicide. She might run into him coming back. He’d already been gone for hours this time, and his hours in the cabin had become irregular.
Much as she wanted to race into the surrounding woods now, she didn’t dare leave. It was still daylight and she needed to leave at night, after he took off for whatever sick mission he was on.
The last few days she’d been watching him through the slit in the door. She knew where he kept an extra flashlight and his knife, which he usually took with him, but there were other objects she could carry with her, like the little torch he used to light his fire each night. That might come in handy. And the picture of her mother, damn it, she was taking it.
But she didn’t have a backpack any longer. He’d stolen that a few nights ago, so what she could carry would be limited. And she still had the creep’s cigarette butt, hidden deep in her pocket. If she took some other things from this place, they might have his fingerprints on them and the police would be able to nail his sorry hide to the wall.
She couldn’t wait.
But she was getting ahead of herself.
First she had to hide the spike and the best place to do that was to put it back in its hole. She’d reamed the old wood out well enough that now she could extract it again easily.
Smiling to herself she stared down at the long nail.
What she’d really like to do with it was ram it deep into the guy’s neck. Or using her tae kwon do skills she could drop the bastard to his knees. Oh, how she’d love to take him out! However, just like he had obviously underestimated her and didn’t know what she was capable of, she didn’t know anything about him, either. He, too, could have a black belt. He was muscular and strong. She’d seen enough of his body when he went through his nightly ritual to know that. As gross as the spectacle was she did learn some things. He was tough. And a lot bigger than she was. If he took a mind to, he could hurt her.
So she couldn’t push him.
But she couldn’t just sit around and wait for him to decide he didn’t need her any longer.
She stared down at the nail…It was nearly six inches, she guessed. Long enough for her purposes.
Soon he would return. Her guts squeezed at the thought of being near him again and the sick sensation in her stomach returned. If she knew she had the time she would take off now. But did she? Should she risk it?
Glancing up at the skylight, she realized that it was late in the afternoon, maybe early evening. Shadows were creeping across the sky so the sun had to be getting low in the western sky. Maybe he wasn’t coming back. Maybe she should leave now, while she had the chance. Maybe she wouldn’t get another one.
She palmed the nail.
The least she could do was explore the cabin…
She thought she heard a truck rumble in the distance.
Crap!
Fear sizzled through her body.
Don’t let him get to you. Don’t. You only have to put up with him a few more hours.
Quickly she slid her newfound tool into the hole in the closet floor and threw herself onto her bed. She had to wait. Had to deal with him one more night.
Her throat tightened in revulsion.
Tonight.
No matter what.
After he came back and checked on her, fed her, and went through his eerie fire ritual, he would leave. And when he did she’d have enough time to make good her escape.
Later tonight after he left, she would be outta here.
By the time Shannon got home and parked near the garage, her case of nerves had nearly disappeared. She’d spent the drive convincing herself that she was just tired and edgy. And maybe she’d imagined the man at the cabin. With all that had happened in the past few days her nerves were strung past the breaking point. That was it. She thought of a long bath, maybe a glass of wine, lit candles…and clearing her mind or, even better, letting her mind wander. Maybe if she had a few minutes alone she would be able to make sense of things, put them in order, push back her fears.
She couldn’t let the strain that had ruined her sense of well-being here spread into the dreams she had for her new home, her new beginning.
“It’ll be worth it,” she told herself as she climbed out of the cab. Khan hopped to the dusty floor of the garage to bolt through the open door and relieve himself on a favorite fence post. All the dogs loved that old gnarled stake and Shannon spent the next ten minutes, in the dark, hosing it down.
“You can’t wash the smell away,” Nate said and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
The nozzle of the hose slipped in her hands, water spraying wildly as she readjusted her grip.
Suddenly her hair, arms and front of her shirt were drenched. “Damn it,” she said, but, in truth, the cold water felt good. Refreshing.
“Sorry.”
She caught the hint of a smile, the flash of white teeth against his tanned skin. “You miserable bastard, you do that on purpose, don’t you? You enjoy sneaking up on people.” He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a hand. “Think twice before you start off on some diatribe about it all being a part of your Native American heritage, okay?” She pointed the nozzle at his face. “I’m not unwilling to shoot you where it does the most good.” She lowered her aim, siting her new-found weapon at his crotch.
Nate’s hands flew up, palms outward. “All right, ma’am,” he drawled in a poor imitation of some ridiculous Hollywood cowboy twang, “I surrender.”
“Just the words I love to hear from a man,” she said, leaning down to twist off the spigot. She felt a sharp twinge, reminding her that her ribs were far from healed. “At least the post won’t reek so bad that every stray for a hundred miles will end up wandering down here to take a leak.”
“You’d love it if they did and you’d adopt every one of them.”
She chuckled and felt a faint twist of pain again. But he was right. She’d never found a stray she didn’t take in. “St. Francis of Assisi, I’m not,” she said, wiping her hands on the tail of her shirt.
“No?”
“Definitely not.”
“Then how about St. Shannon?”
“There is no St. Shannon.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Well…no.” She lifted a shoulder and whistled for Khan. “It’s been a while since I attended St. Theresa’s and studied catechism. But I think if someone named Shannon had been canonized, I would have heard.” She eyed him and rested one hand on her hip. “So where the hell have you been?”
“In and out. The truck’s giving me fits. It’s in the shop now. One of the mechanics gave me a lift back here.”
“You could have called.”
“I did. Your cell. You never called me back.”
“I tried, but your voice mail was full. Besides my cell’s been missing a while,” she said, still disturbed about its sudden reappearance.
“Okay, so I tried to get in touch with you.”
Not too hard, she thought, but let it slide.
“I heard about Mary Beth. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“The police think it was intentional, that someone killed her?”
She nodded and all of the warmth and humor they’d shared only moments before drizzled away with the cold truth.
“How’s Robert holding up?”
> “I haven’t seen him since it happened, but according to my other brothers and mother, not well.”
“And the kids?”
“I don’t know, but it’s got to be tough.” She leaned her arms over the top rail of the fence. “The police think whoever killed her is the same one who burned down the shed.”
Nate’s gaze moved from the shed to her face. “And attacked you.”
“And probably kidnapped Dani Settler.”
“Your daughter.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t remember telling you all my deep, dark secrets.”
With a shrug, he said, “Santa Lucia’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”
“Including you?”
“Only the people I care about,” he said, then, before she could reply, hitched his chin toward the paddock where the small herd of horses was grazing. “I’ve got something I want to show you.”
“What?”
“Just come on.” As if expecting her to argue, he added, “Humor me, this once. Believe me, Shannon, I think you’ll be interested in what I found out.”
Curious, she gestured broadly with one hand. “Lead away.” She followed him to the fence enclosing the paddock outside the horse barn. Inside the enclosure the horses were enjoying the last rays of evening sun. Several picked at the dry stubble that still existed in clumps within the paddock while the roan gelding was rolling in the dust, sending up great clouds that partially hid his body, so that his legs, pawing the air, were all that was visible. Still others stood, heads turned in their direction, dark eyes watching.
“Wait here,” Nate instructed as he grabbed a leather lead from a hook on the side of the building, then slipped through the gate and approached the small herd standing beneath the bows of a madrona tree. The animals lifted their heads to watch him approach. He walked surely, his voice steady, his movements deliberate and smooth.
Molly, the buckskin who had balked at being freed during the fire, was still skittish. While the other horses went back to plucking at dry blades of grass, she appeared ready to bolt. Her nostrils were flared, her eyes wide, her flesh quivering beneath her tawny coat.
Nate singled her out, stepping closer, and she snorted anxiously, but allowed him to snap the lead to her halter. He patted her shoulder gently, then led her back to the fence.
“She’s still nervous,” Shannon observed and swatted at a horsefly that hovered near her head.
“I would be, too.” Nate was suddenly grave, his dark eyes angry. “Look at her chin and around her mouth,” he said.
Shannon’s eyes were drawn to the mare’s face. Dark eyes regarded her suspiciously. Molly tried to throw back her head as Shannon reached over the fence to pet her, but Nate held the buckskin’s head steady. “I don’t see anything,” Shannon said. “What is it I’m looking for?…Oh.” Noticing the dark stubble around Molly’s mouth, she said, “Wait a minute. Her chin hairs and muzzle hairs are missing.”
“Not just missing, but I think they were singed off.”
“Singed?” she repeated, spying a few blackened hairs. “In the fire?”
“Before the fire.”
“What?” She stared at him, cold dread seeping through her.
“By the guy who attacked you.”
“But why?” She asked the question but already her mind was racing to the only reason that made any sense. “Oh, no…”
“To freak her out,” Nate said flatly. “To make Molly impossible to handle. To force you inside her stall and ensure that you would be trapped with a frenzied, wild, crazy animal.” A muscle worked in his jaw as he added, “Whoever did this planned it carefully. Molly wasn’t just being stubborn or balking because of the fire. She was reacting to being tortured. See here,” he pointed to a bit of darkened skin near the corner of the mare’s mouth, an obvious burn mark.
“No.” Shannon stared at the horse’s muzzle and saw the evidence, so plain to her now. Sudden nausea roiled in her stomach. “What kind of sicko would do this?”
“Someone determined, someone lethal, someone who has one helluva grudge against you. Used some kind of torch or lighter or held up a burning stick.”
“Damn it!” She wanted to scream at the blatant cruelty to the mare. She replayed the scene that Nate had mapped out: She’d tried to touch Molly, to pet her, but the horse had reacted by tossing back her head. “Have you told the police?”
“Not yet,” he said and Shannon understood his aversion to the authorities. Nate, like she, had been falsely accused of murder in the past. He’d spent eighteen months of his life in prison before DNA evidence had cleared him of the crime. He didn’t trust the law. “I figured you might want to tell them yourself.”
“I will,” she said, anger boiling anew through her blood. What kind of horrible maniac would harm an innocent animal, use the creature’s pain to get back at her? Who? And why? She automatically reached into her pocket for her cell before remembering that it was in the house recharging.
Hell! She let her gaze move from Nate’s concerned face to the rest of the little herd. “Were any of the other animals harmed?”
“Not that I can see.”
“You checked the dogs, too?”
“Yep.”
“Good.” Though she was pissed as hell about Molly, she felt a bit of relief that there were no other examples of the hideous torture.
“It might be time to get a security system installed, for your house, the stable and kennel.”
He unsnapped the lead and let Molly free. Snorting, the mare quickly trotted over to the other horses where she stood, black tail swishing, ears flicking nervously.
“I’ll put one in up at the new place. It’s going to be renovated anyway. And Alexi Demitri stopped by today. He told me he has a company that will do the installation.”
“I don’t like him,” Nate said without inflection.
“So you’ve said.”
His lips flattened as he stepped through the gate. “You might rethink your plan. You’re not moving for a while, and, apparently the danger is now. You might want to do something here as well.”
He had a point. She still had a few weeks to live here and the thought that whoever had attacked her had been able to come and go at his will made goose bumps run up her arms. Worse yet, that same man probably killed Mary Beth and was holding Dani Settler hostage…if he hadn’t murdered the girl as well.
Panic and rage rippled through her. Though she had no evidence that he’d been in her house, she wasn’t certain and if he came back…Her stomach curdled. “I’ll call Alexi immediately,” she said.
“So why was he here?” As the sun set and shadows lengthened across the fields, Khan, tired of searching for squirrels in a woodpile, trotted over and whined for Nate’s attention. Out of habit, Nate reached down and scratched the dog behind his good ear. “What did Demitri want?”
“He dropped off keys to the woodshed at the new place.”
The corners of Nate’s lips pinched and the skin grew taut over his high cheekbones. “I thought maybe after what happened the other night, you might not want to move.”
“It might be safer up there.”
He snorted. “More isolated.”
“Look, we’ve been over this before. Alexi had another reason for dropping by.”
“Which was?”
“To offer condolences for Mary Beth. And he also brought me a gift.”
One black eyebrow raised as he straightened.
“A pup.” She hesitated. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to her.”
“He gave you a dog?” Skepticism laced his words.
“Mmm hmmm.” She’d already turned and was walking toward the back door. In three swift strides, Nate caught up to her and they crossed the porch together, old floorboards creaking under his boots.
As she reached for the door, he touched her arm, the first physical contact they’d had since the fire. “Wait a minute,” he said, his voice low. “How are you doing?” Fro
m his gaze she knew that he meant more than the surface stuff.
“I’m okay.” She flashed a smile she didn’t feel. “Didn’t you once say I was ‘tough as nails’?”
He glanced at the ground. “I could have been wrong.”
“Nah!”
She opened the door and he dropped his hand back to his side. The problem with Nate was that he wasn’t a surface guy; she knew that. His feelings, though often hidden, ran deep. Maybe too deep.
Once in the kitchen, she walked to the kennel where the puppy was already awake again. The little ball of fur was jumping and leaping at the confines of the cage. Carefully Shannon leaned over the wire mesh and scooped up the wriggling little dog. “Skatooli,” she said as the puppy licked her face wildly. “Here, meet Nate.” Shannon handed the pup to the tall man and, as with just about any animal, Skatooli calmed in Nate’s big, calloused, incredibly gentle hands. “Purebred Labrador retriever…without papers, of course.”
“My ass,” Nate said, his voice calm. “That’s like saying I’m full-blooded Cherokee or that Khan here is a prizewinning Aussie shepherd.” He glanced up, fingers still stroking the little dog, as Khan, hearing his name and forever wanting to be the center of attention, did circles around Nate’s boots. He whined expectantly before giving off a gruff bark. The tiny pup, startled, yipped.
“I know. But she’s sweet, and probably smart.”
“I already told you I don’t trust Demitri,” Nate said again. “That guy has ulterior motives for his ulterior motives.”
Shannon sighed. “I got that message loud and clear.”
“And you ignored it. As always.”
“Not ‘as always.’ I heed your advice when I think I should. Face it, Santana, it’s not just Demitri. You don’t trust anyone.”
He made a deprecating noise and she chuckled. They’d walked this ground before. “Besides, I like the new place.”
“I know. No reason to argue about it again,” Nate said. “It’s a done deal.” The lines around his mouth tightened a bit.
Shannon ignored his disapproval. There was no reason to explain why she wanted a place of her own, a place that held no memories, no ghosts from a past that wouldn’t disappear. A place where she didn’t wake up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, her body shaking, the nightmares still as vivid and real as they had been for three years. Looking up, she caught Nate staring at her with his guarded dark eyes. He had a way of looking straight to her soul, she sometimes thought, as if he was trying to read her mind.
