“We don’t want to get breakfast in town anymore, do we?” Clayton asked.
“Of course we should, maybe Jack will be there,” Jo dipped back into her tent and began to stuff her sleeping bag into its handy drawstring tote.
“So what is our plan?” Jo turned from the car window back to Clayton.
“Plan?”
“I mean, I know he killed my friend and the police barely seem to believe me,” Jo adjusted her seatbelt. She was coming close to tears again and didn’t want to cry anymore. “We can’t just let this guy go free.”
“We can’t?” Clayton turned to look at her and Jo looked out the window to give her eyes time to clear. “We can do whatever we want and I am of the personal opinion that we should leave well enough alone.”
“And let a murderer go loose?” Jo pointed the road she wanted Clayton to turn down. “Is this because of the scandal it would cause for your company?”
Clayton’s jaw went hard and Jo watched in silence as his body began to tense.
“Or maybe you did give some sort of directive? Not murder perhaps but an order to do whatever it takes? Something that might have been taken the wrong way?” Jo’s breathing was going short.
“I am not interested in protecting myself but I am interested in protecting you. Do you have experience in crime? Have you ever been a member of the police force? Military?” He paused but Jo refused to give into his questioning. “No, I didn’t think so,” he continued, “so leave it to the professionals.”
Jo exhaled loudly. This wasn’t going to disappear by itself and the longer they waited to act the less likely it would be for them to find anything. She needed to look through Jack’s work camp, a place that Clayton would be welcome, a place that he would have a reason to visit. But Clayton wasn’t going to be any help, she could see that now.
If she did nothing then this man would kill again, he would very likely kill her.
“This place?” Clayton parked the car in the tiny parking lot. Martha’s was a tiny mom and pop diner that had the marked distinction of being the only breakfast place in town.
“They don’t call it a greasy spoon for nothing,” Jo perked up at the prospect of running into one of the men she’d seen at Clayton’s house the other day.
Clayton, it turned out, was a bit of a food snob. He turned his nose up at grits, bacon, and the scrambled eggs that were set in front of him and opted to pick at his toast instead.
This did not bother Jo in the least, she had wanted to ask for extra bacon anyway but didn’t want to order it.
There was no sign of Jack or any of the men she’d seen arriving with him at Clayton’s house. She could tell that Clayton had the same idea as he was actively keeping guard all through their meal.
When they’d finished eating and there was still no sign of Jack or his men, Jo decided that she would need to take things into her own hands.
Excusing herself to go to the ladies room, Jo slipped through the exit conveniently located at Clayton’s back.
Jo, who had easily been able to snag Clayton’s vintage Range Rover keys, hopped into the car, grinding gears as she peeled away.
The men’s work camp was not far from the camp Rick had set up for the protestors and Jo could think of no other plan but to go there and look through Jack’s things while he was, hopefully, busy on the job.
She parked just out of camp on the side of the road.
What would Clayton do when he realized she'd run away with his car? She didn't want to think about the anger that might brew under the surface of such a man. The thought of him casting her out was almost enough to make her stop, but the image of Rick—the gun pointing right at him—was too much.
If she was going to have a life, a future, then she needed to at least cast serious suspicion on this guy.
Jo went through the trees instead of along the road that led into camp. The men went off scouting for various naturally occurring resources in the area, as Jack had said to Clayton at his house. During the protests the men had gone in shifts but now that the protestors were all gone Jo assumed that the workers had probably gone back to their normal hours.
She stood in the trees watching the tents, much more formal and well thought out than the ones the protestors had pitched, and looked for some sign of life.
No one walked through the tents. There were no sounds of someone whistling or moving things around at all.
Jo steadied her breath. Now that she was here she realized the possible futility of her mission. How would she even know which tent belonged to Jack? Even if she were able to find his tent then why in the world would he stash incriminating evidence in it?
“Ok, buck up,” Jo whispered to herself. She hit her legs with her fists in a hackneyed warrior display that didn’t seem to do anything to bolster her spirits. It was now or never.
Jo ran to the first and closest tent. It was military clean. Two cots one on each side, a duffle bag on one and a hard shell rolling bag on the other. There was very little that hinted at a personal life at all. Jo looked at a leftover airline tag on the suitcase.
Not Jack.
Guessing that he was a boss or one of the bosses Jo decided that she was probably looking for a tent with only one bed inside.
This insight proved helpful. Almost all of the tents housed two cots, and two large tents housed three and four. She was surprised at the number of beds. The workers had done a lot to hide the number of men actually on the job and in the camp. Jo had seen only a small fraction of the men actually out here.
There were three more tents that Jo hadn’t been in when she got to the first single cot tent. It was on the far side of camp and, where the other tents had all been drawn back and open to the breeze, this one was closed up.
Jo opened the flap and peered in before sliding her body inside the flap.
She could hear her own breath puffing inside the quiet of the space. It was clean like the others but this one had the added luxury of a small generator in the corner and a mini fridge. She opened the fridge. A few small bottles of alcohol, a six-pack of beer, a half-eaten sandwich. She closed it again and turned toward a little table with a stack of papers and next to those stacks of clothing.
Jo leaned over the paperwork.
Land permits made out in the name of the company, nothing with a personal name, signature, or address.
If he’d bloodied his clothing then would he have discarded the garments or been too cocky and decided just to wash and keep them?
She couldn’t remember what he’d worn anyway.
Jo went back to the edge of the tent just as the flaps flew open and Jack walked through.
“What the fuck...” he looked at Jo then looked around his tent. “All by yourself, prowling around a stranger’s personal belongings?”
Jo caught her breath and looked in her immediate vicinity for something she could use as a weapon.
“But then,” Jack moved closer, beginning to smile, “we’re not really strangers, are we?”
“I’m not by myself, Clayton Porter is looking through one of the other tents right now,” Jo lied. He wouldn’t really kill her, not now when she’d been the one to point the finger at him killing Rick. Wouldn’t that be a bit too risky?
Of course, the man had made Rick disappear.
“Oh, you brought your boyfriend to visit?” Jack cocked his head as if he were listening. “No, I don’t think you did.”
“Back up,” Jo picked up Jack’s Maglite flashlight, wielding the heavy end like a weapon.
"Don't bring a flashlight to a gun show," Jack began to reach for his cot and Jo panicked. She jumped toward Jack striking at him hard. She made contact and the unexpected hit threw Jack off balance but he was able to right himself and continue going anyway.
Jo screamed as she saw the hard black metal of the gun. He was turning it on her just as her scream was overwhelmed by a much more powerful sound.
Jack instinctively turned toward the sound and suddenly there
was a rip of light. The tent had been torn away in the swiftest of movements and behind the tan canvas stood a massive grizzly bear, standing on hind legs, roaring like someone had just killed its only cub.
Jack turned the gun on the grizzly but the bear was too fast. He swatted at Jack like he was a pesky fly and Jack went tumbling through the air, past where the side of the tent had stood a few moments earlier.
The bear moved its body between Jo and Jack then pounced down on all fours, his body hovering over Jack's body.
Jo moved away from both of them, she backed up as she saw the bear turn its head. Its eyes met her eyes and Jo felt like she’d been the one thrown four feet away. There was no doubting, this was the same grizzly she’d run into in the forest near Clayton’s house. She recognized the same brown eyes, the largeness of the animal, its sound, and smell.
The grizzly looked at her then looked back to Jack who lay underneath of him. Was it possible? Was the bear…protecting her?
Jo backed up again, still moving slowly. She wasn’t supposed to run from a grizzly. The bear turned its head once more, one big paw holding Jack down, it leaned its head back and let out a giant roar. Jo felt like the bear was telling her, go...turn and run.
The feeling of the communication was so overpowering that Jo turned and she ran. She ran down the street, out to the car, she was shaking when her hands put the car key in the ignition.
Jo stalled out on her first move forward, she restarted the car and pealed away from the side of the road. She drove straight back to the restaurant where she'd left Clayton. Her body was vibrating from the adrenaline and she felt as if she was moving at a snail's pace.
She hopped out of the car and ran into the restaurant.
All six people inside turned to look at her.
“Can I help you darling?” the woman who owned the restaurant asked from across the diner.
“No,” Jo looked again. “No. Thank you.”
Chapter Six
Clayton spotted Jo just before she got back in the Range Rover.
“Jo,” Clayton touched her shoulder and Jo screamed as she spun around toward him.
“Oh my god, you scared me,” she was breathing hard and put a hand to her chest before bending over.
“Are you ok?” Clayton knelt down so he was face to face with her. He pushed the hair back from her face and rubbed his thumbs across her forehead and over her temples. “Shh,” he whispered in her ear.
Jo looked up at him, her breath beginning to finally slow and calm.
She paused and a question ran across her face.
“What is it?” Clayton pushed both of his hands back again, moving the hair away from her eyes.
“You…your eyes,” Jo stared into his eyes. “I think I need to sit down.”
“Why don’t you sit in the car,” Clayton lifted Jo from her elbow, “let’s get out of here.”
Jo obeyed without protest. She let him help her into the car, watched his body as he snapped her seatbelt into place, then watched him start the car and easily shift as they moved away along the streets that would lead them back to his house.
“Are you ok?” Clayton turned to Jo halfway through their ride. There had been something in her expression, something that made him think… but that was impossible.
Jo nodded but said nothing in response. His worry was overwhelming all of his other senses and Clayton felt he needed to test the waters and see just what it was his intuition was picking up on.
“Where did you go?” Clayton asked without turning to her. He watched the trees melt into one long green blur. Suddenly he felt that he needed fresh air, they both probably needed fresh air. He rolled down the top of his window.
“Where did I go? I went to the same place you went,” Jo said ignoring his second question.
Clayton felt his palms grow clammy, “I don’t think I understand.”
“Oh no, it’s me that doesn’t understand.” He could hear the hint of something unexpected in her voice and he wondered at it. If she really did know then shouldn’t she be running for her life? Shouldn’t she be screaming and running—jumping out of his car?
“But I am grateful,” her voice came low in almost sacred tones. “You saved my life.”
Clayton felt his heart beating heavily in his chest. He'd never told anyone. His parents had known, of course, it had come to him from his father's father. He'd been told his whole life that this secret, this thing, could turn him into a pariah, or a science experiment.
His grandfather had been killed by a hunter, his father had killed the hunter and was killed himself in the process. Clayton’s mother had lost her mind shortly after then simply slipped away.
It had been all too clear a sign of things to come if he let someone else in on his secret. If he fell in love, had children, tried to live a normal life, then he was bound to ruin other lives as well as his own. He’d decided on his work instead. He would have a thriving work life. He would be good in business, he would read, let his books keep him company, and he would never love.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay with me anymore,” Clayton felt his knuckles go white around the steering wheel.
“You want me to leave?” Jo’s calm changed in an instant, “I’ll be killed. You are the only one I’m safe with now.”
Clayton felt something flip over inside of him. He should have killed Jack when he had a chance. Mauled by a grizzly, that would be one way for him to go.
“When this is over, when they arrest Jack, you’ll need to leave,” Clayton said the words slowly.
“What if this is never over, what if they never arrest Jack?” Jo’s voice was rising in pitch and he could practically feel the panic drifting off of her.
“I’ll make sure of it,” Clayton lifted a hand, hoping to keep Jo from losing all sense of her calm.
The two didn't talk the rest of the way back to the house. Clayton didn't unbuckle Jo's seatbelt or open her door, of course, Jo was more herself and didn't need him to anymore.
“I think you’d better take a nap, you haven’t had any proper sleep yet,” Clayton came into the house and put his keys down.
He turned when he didn’t hear Jo respond. She was nodding lightly and already moving toward the stairs.
“I’ll have dinner when you wake up, I can keep it hot if you need extra sleep,” Clayton called after her. She looked on the edge of collapse, ready to fall over, and he could hardly blame her.
Clayton listened from the bottom of the stairs to Jo as she walked up. He heard her footsteps in the hall above, past the library, past his own room. He heard her door open and close and then all was silent.
He stood listening to the silence for a long time before walking around the house checking locked windows, doors, the security system that he never used, and noting what items in each room might make for a good weapon.
Clayton had dinner ready at its usual hour but there was no sign of Jo. He waited and still there was no sign of her. He put it all on to warm and sent Lincoln to check on her but she was sound asleep and it seemed better to just let her keep on sleeping.
With all that she’d been through and the very small amount of sleep she’d had in the past two days, Clayton thought it likely that she would sleep straight through to morning.
Chapter Seven
She was in the woods running, running through trees, falling on rocks and branches. Her knees were bleeding and her heart was pumping so violently that the water from the lake was moving in time to her heartbeats.
Jo turned, it was cold and she was wearing a small scrap of a dress, behind her was Jack. He held a gun and he was laughing. He laughed as he lifted the gun and Jo screamed. The giant grizzly thudded out of the forest, as big as a rhino, his body shaking the ground. In three bounds he moved in front of the gun just as it went off. Jo screamed as the bear went down, as Clayton’s legs buckled beneath him.
“Jo.”
Jo sat up with a sudden jerk and gulp of air. It was
dark, only the light from the moon swept into the room.
“Jo,” the voice belonged to Clayton. Jo looked into the darkness and saw him in front of her, felt his hands on her arms. “It was only a dream.”
It was only a dream, Clayton wasn’t dead, Jack didn’t shoot him. Jo looked up at him as her jaw shook. Though her fingers felt cold, she’d been sweating and her hair was damp and matted.
“Have I been sleeping all this time?” Jo looked at Clayton. He was in the same clothes so it was possible that it wasn’t as late as she thought. “What time is it?”
“Three in the morning,” Clayton brushed her hair back and away with his hand just as he’d done earlier in the day. His eyes met her eyes.
He took his hand away from her face.
“No,” she reached for his hand and moved it back to her cheek. She held his hand in hers and suddenly, on an irrepressible whim she kissed his hand.
“Jo…” he said her name and she knew he was going to pull away, to retreat beyond the place where she could reach him.
Jo lifted her other hand and brought it to his face.
“Stay—please stay,” she looked at him, deep into his eyes. Then she moved closer to his face until their lips met.
Clayton’s lips were warm. His body felt tense and ready as she placed her hand on his chest.
He let Jo kiss him but he held back. Jo kissed him harder.
She pulled on his lower lip with her teeth, felt his skin next to her skin, rubbed her cheek against his stubble.
When she pulled back his face was focused on her and she could feel his energy, wild and untamed, ready to pour out of him. Clayton took her head in his hands and pulled her mouth to his.
He was more alive than anyone she’d ever met. Jo felt every move of his body, the tightening of every muscle. Her skin tingled as he exhaled near her neck and Jo felt every part of her body calling for Clayton.
She leaned her head back toward the moonlight as his lips trailed down her neck, to her breastbone, until he moved her shirt and took one tight nipple in his mouth. He teased her with his teeth and Jo gasped at the feel as a sensation shot straight through her, down to her core. She extended her spine and arched her back.
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