by Jenna Ryan
His great-grandfather cackled. “The girl’s a regular Miss Marple.”
“You think I’m a nosy old woman? That’s some compliment, Rooney. In terms of the call, Lieutenant, sharpen your mental pencil. I had another chat with my stalker’s nasty side.”
Swearing inwardly, Eli looked toward the Hollow. “More of the same, or something new?”
“A little of both, actually.” She related the conversation and ended with a sound of frustration. “I’m sure he was going to say more, but one of the presses surged. The motor blew, the electrical panel overloaded and Jerk’s eyebrows got singed.”
He swore again. “Are you all right? Is he?”
“I’m fine, and you know Jerk. He’s already torn the bottom half of the press apart. He says no frigging fossil of a machine’s going to get the better of him. Now, before you to do a major burnout in my not-paid-for vehicle, let me add that Brick’s already here helping his brother, and I promised Ben Leamer I’d cover a grade-school tour of his corn maze. Personal favor,” she added before he could object. “Otherwise, I’d get one of my reporters to do it.”
An eager Rooney leaned forward. “Tell Ben I need...” Then he clamped his mouth shut and let a smile lift the corners. “Never mind. Stay safe, young Sadie.”
“That shouldn’t be difficult in a crowd of more than sixty.” Amusement marked her tone. “Kids love cops, Eli—if you find yourself getting bored in, oh, say, fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“I can think of better ways to deflect boredom than by herding a bunch of kids through a maze.”
“You were a child once yourself, Lieutenant Blume. That being said, I need to prep for a major headache.”
“So basically, you just called to scare the crap out of me.”
She laughed. “You said to let you know if anything unusual happened. I think my afternoon qualifies. Oh, and, Rooney? It’s as dangerous to ride a bike in the fog as it is during a thunderstorm.”
“How can you possibly—?” A sharp burst of static stopped Eli midquestion.
“Hollow Road’s not the only place phones tend to pack it in.” Rooney shrugged. “She’s right, of course, but I like my bike, it’s mostly downhill and someone or other’s usually driving by if I find myself getting winded.” He pointed east. “You heard the lady. Cove’s that way, and as you can clearly see, fog’s rolling in.”
Fine. Great. Sadie had a knack for weather forecasts and a soft spot for Ben Leamer. Eli knew he could live with that. But how much longer would Sadie live if he didn’t identify the monster who wanted her dead and bring the bastard down?
“You know,” Rooney philosophized, “it’d be better all around if you and Ty worked on this investigation together.”
“Still believe in miracles, huh?” Eli glanced in the rearview mirror. “Listen, how’d you like to have dinner with Brady instead of going into the Cove to Two Toes Joe’s?”
“I could probably be persuaded—long as he’s not neutering something or trying to make me drink that disgusting green liquid he calls tea.” Rooney wrinkled his nose. “Gets it from Molly. Supposed to clear the mind, but all it did was put me to sleep. A stiff shot of Ben’s...” He glanced sideways. “Let’s just say my special tonic does the job much better.” He thumped his cane. “Now, talk to me, grandson, about this man who’s haranguing our Sadie.”
“He’s not haranguing her.” Eli squinted at a truck several hundred yards ahead. “He’s trying to kill her. Or half of him is.”
“That’ll be the Ezekiel half.”
A wry smile formed. “You don’t miss much, do you?”
“Sure didn’t miss the expression on your face when you talked to Sadie.”
“Would that be the expression of abject fear or ball-crushing fury?”
“Some of both, I expect, mixed with what I’m betting was a night of mutual satisfaction and multiple org—”
Eli cut him off with a look. “Finish that thought, and I’ll strap you to the rack with your bike.”
His great-grandfather made a scoffing sound. “Does Sadie know you’re a prude when it comes to discussing sexual relations?”
“She’s a woman, Rooney. No conversation’s taboo. You’re welcome to have this one with her and leave me with the simpler task of keeping her alive.” He spaced out the last three words for effect and at the same time managed to get a clear enough look at the truck ahead that his adrenaline began to pump. “Oh, yeah. Time you and I had another chat, pal.”
Rooney snorted. “Chats with prudes bore me.”
“Not you and me.” Eli nodded forward. “Me and him. That’s Cal Kilgore’s truck.”
“Well, hell, in that case, put the pedal down, and we’ll head him off at the pass.”
“What pass?”
“Hang a left at the crippled oak, and I’ll show you.” He flapped a blue-veined hand. “Left, left.”
With curses rolling off his tongue, Eli made the turn. At Rooney’s urging, he bumped along a rough path, down a hill, through a river of mud and into a stand of trees that came within an inch of scraping the paint off both sides of Sadie’s vehicle.
“There, you see?” his great-grandfather crowed. “Road.”
But not before dip, crevice, pothole, pothole, pothole. Eli had a quick vision of himself as a lizard, then miraculously the pathway opened up and he was back on the main road. He saw Cal’s truck barreling toward them, swung into a hard one-eighty and, slamming on the brakes, successfully blocked both lanes.
There was no mistaking the blind panic on Cal’s face as he executed a squealing quarter turn. The maneuver put the two men door to door with less than eighteen inches of misty air between them. While Eli squeezed out, gun drawn, Cal scrambled across the passenger seat and into the gully.
There was nothing Eli relished more than a chase, and Kilgore was agile enough to give him a good one. If he had a weapon, he didn’t use it. Or he’d left it behind.
The minute he skidded into the hollow, Cal ditched the path and started to weave—through the trees, around a murky pond and over a pair of questionable bridges. With Eli gaining, he splashed through puddles, used logs as launching pads, and finally made the mistake of trying to cross Raven’s Creek on a scattering of crooked stones.
Tucking his gun, Eli bypassed the stones, took aim at his ankles and went for a low tackle.
A muffled “Oomph” preceded a sharp back kick and a twist that almost allowed Cal to kick him in the face. Eli just managed to get a forearm up to deflect the blow.
“Bastard,” Cal spat.
“Took the words,” Eli muttered, then rolled sideways as his quarry’s scrabbling fingers got hold of a stubby branch.
He swung it hard, but another roll took Eli out of range and probably sent pain singing up Cal’s arm when he struck a tree.
Eyes watchful, Eli redrew his gun. He didn’t aim, merely held it up and off to the side while he gauged Cal’s labored body language. His wet clothes appeared to be weighing him down to the point of exhaustion.
“Are we done?” he shouted.
On his hands and knees, Cal brought his head up. A snarl formed. He pounded the water with his fists.
“We’ll call that a no.”
When the other man flew toward him, Eli bounced to the right, used his elbow, his foot and his fist, in that order.
The guy had a granite jaw, but a poor stance in the stony creek bed. The punch he attempted to land resulted in a yelp as he lost his balance and flopped onto his stomach in the water.
“That works.” Stuffing his gun in his waistband, Eli planted a knee in Cal’s lower back, grabbed a handful of his hair and gave it a deliberate yank. “Talk,” he ordered, “or I’ll turn you over and make a eunuch out of you.”
Cal locked his good eye on Eli’s face. “You’re too well tra
ined to hurt a prisoner.”
“Don’t count on it. I’m in a pisser of a mood right now.”
A long glare preceded a hiss of breath. “I’d say bull, except there’s a woman involved, so you might just follow through. If this was about a guy...”
“It is about a guy.” Eli wrenched him none too gently onto his back and set a warning knee on his thigh. “It’s about a stalker with a homicidal id.”
Cal’s other eye circled wildly. “You’re not a shrink and I’m not a murderer. We went through all this when you showed up on my property unannounced.”
“We went through some of it,” Eli agreed. “Things have happened since. Why did you take off yesterday when Sadie noticed your truck?”
“You can’t guess?”
“You hate cops.”
“Damn straight. Every one I’ve known has tried to pin Laura’s death on me.”
“And you think running’s going to change that?”
“I didn’t run until you and your tight-ass cousin came after me.”
Shifting his knee, Eli pressed a little harder on Cal’s thigh. “People who run usually have something to hide. What’re you hiding, Kilgore?”
“Not a secret yen for your lady, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He sucked air through his teeth when Eli shifted his knee again. “You hurt me, Blume, and I’ll sue. I’ve got rights.”
“What you’ve got,” Eli corrected, “is about five seconds to start talking.”
“You’re out of your jurisdiction.”
“Two seconds.”
Cal uttered a single rude word. “All right, you win, upper hand. I came to get some pills for my uncle.”
“Figured that much. Why take off yesterday?”
Cal swung his good eye to the side, gave a mirthless laugh and closed both. “You won’t believe me.”
“Stalling’s not your best bet here.”
“I’m not stalling. The brown truck gave me heebies.”
“Brown truck,” Eli repeated. “Brady’s truck?”
“I saw him get into it maybe an hour before Sadie spotted me in town. Only this wasn’t your average man in the woods. This guy was wearing a long black cloak with a big, floppy hood. So floppy you couldn’t see his face.”
“Go on,” Eli said when he paused.
“He was moving fast. He opened the door of the truck, tossed a mother of a gun inside and took off. I didn’t know if he’d seen me or not, so I stayed put until I was sure he was gone.”
“Where were you, Cal? Exactly.”
“Partway up the hill that leads to Bellam Manor.”
“Yeah? Why is that?”
“I was waiting for someone. Look, d’you want this or not?”
Did he? Slick knots twisted in Eli’s stomach, but he loosened his grip and sat back. “Go on, finish it.”
“From the look on your face, I don’t have to.” Cal regarded him half-lidded. “My eyes only act wonky, Lieutenant. They see fine. The guy pushed his hood back when he drove off. Then he turned his head just far enough that I got a real good look at his face.”
Something like dread slithered into Eli’s chest, but his gaze didn’t falter. “I said finish it.”
“It was your cousin in that truck. Your cousin, wearing a big black cloak and carrying a badass gun. That’s why I ran. He was standing next to that brown truck when I stopped at the intersection in town. He looked up when he saw me, looked right straight at me, and I’m telling you, my guts turned to water. I’ll tell you something else, too. Thinking back like I have been since that happened, I realize yesterday’s not the first time I’ve looked at his eyes and felt that way.”
Because no part of him wanted to hear this, Eli snagged another handful of Cal’s jacket and yanked him up. “Are you telling me my cousin Brady shot at Sadie and me in the woods near Bellam Manor?”
Cal’s eyeball swam in its loose socket. “I’m saying I saw a guy in a cloak get into a brown truck. But yeah, it could be I’m saying he used that gun on you, because I heard shots a few minutes before he came crashing out of the old tunnel.”
The last two words only registered on the fringe of Eli’s mind. Right then, all he could see was Sadie’s face. And behind it, like an evil black cloud, his cousin Brady’s.
Brady, who’d taken the time to text her as he drove away. Brady, who’d told her he hadn’t been shooting at her. Because Brady was only obsessed with her.
It was the monster that wanted her dead.
Chapter Twenty
Sadie planned to leave the newspaper immediately after talking to Eli. Unfortunately, as she was pulling on her leather coat, another printing press decided to go down—and take two-thirds of the Chronicle’s power with it.
When she reached the basement, Jerk muttered something about never having eyebrows again. Then he bared his teeth, stripped off his shirt and dived headfirst into the wires.
It was closing in on six when she finally jogged across the parking lot to the ancient Bronco her copy editor had—maybe kindly, maybe not—offered to lend her.
She called Ben as she went, half hoping he’d tell her not to come, but it seemed the school buses hadn’t arrived on time, either, so everyone was running late.
The Bronco was so old and worn she couldn’t even use her rusty standard-shift driving skills as an excuse to cancel. The engine ground a bit but slid obligingly from gear to gear whether she engaged the clutch properly or not.
So—plenty of time to think about Eli, the night they’d spent together and how the hell she was going to deal with the fact that her heart did a tap dance whenever his face popped into her head—which was every other minute at this point.
The big question had been rearing its head all day. Did she love him? To her dismay, the big answer scared her as much as it thrilled her.
How could a relationship between them work? Did he even want a relationship? Did she?
Love, she reminded herself, was supposed to make overcoming obstacles not only possible but also enjoyable. Of course, in their case she had to factor in a strong fear of commitment on both sides, a near tragedy on Eli’s and a massive failure on hers. All in all, their obstacles read more like mountains, and that was before she compounded them with the grisly fact that someone who had two distinct personalities appeared to want both of them dead.
It might be a formidable weapon, but even love couldn’t deflect bullets or arrows. Meaning, for the moment at least, she needed to set her feelings aside and focus on staying alive to pursue them.
She eased up on the gas as she drove past the police station. Maybe she should have told Jerk she was leaving. If nothing else, she’d have had peace of mind knowing he was tailing her.
But the presses had to be repaired, and no one except Jerk would be stubborn enough to make that happen.
As she drove past the police station, she noticed that Ty’s cruiser was gone, and both the veterinary clinic and the pharmacy had closed an hour ago.
No lights burned either in Brady’s apartment or in Orley’s. Or none that she could see through the layers of fog that were thickening as she drove.
Would Eli really attempt to track a monster in this stuff? Was it possible that he and Ty had joined forces?
Well, yeah, about as possible as the prospect of her stalker packing up and moving to Florida.
Pressing on a temple that had been threatening to throb all day, Sadie concentrated on the road. More correctly, she concentrated on the two feet of road she could see with her eyes and not her memory.
The passing minutes stretched into forever. Even with Van Halen and David Lee rocking it out, her hands were damp on the steering wheel. It wasn’t until she realized that her fingers were strangling it that exasperation took over and had her growling, “Enough!”
<
br /> One resolved breath in and out relaxed her shoulder muscles. For a moment. Then the tension knots doubled as something—no, someone—took shape directly ahead.
Clenching her teeth, Sadie braked hard and stared at the haloed person for three disbelieving seconds. Then her trance broke, the jagged edges of fear gave way to spikes of temper and she kicked the Bronco’s slightly dented door open.
“Are you insane?” she demanded, striding forward. “I could’ve killed you.”
Her cousin Orley scooped the fingers of both hands through her hair. “Start with me, Sadie, and that’s exactly what I’ll do to you. I picked up a nail—left rear tire. It’s the third puncture I’ve had in six months on this ridiculous excuse for a road.”
Still steaming, Sadie went toe-to-toe with her. “Why, unless you’re suicidal, are you standing in the middle of this ridiculous excuse for a road?”
“In a word? Favor. In a name? Ben Leamer.” She rapped the sides of her head. “You’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t you?”
“What? Not to do favors, or not to stand on foggy roads?”
“Both, apparently. And to carry a spare tire that doesn’t have a frigging hole in it.” When Sadie’s lips quirked, a warning finger came up. “Laugh and I’ll toss you into the hollow, take your—whatever that thing is you’re driving—and leave you stranded.” She gestured from herself to Sadie. “Black belt, no belt.”
“Been a lot of years since you earned that black belt, Orley.” Tipping her head from side to side, Sadie said, “If you want a ride, you’ll have to follow through and come to the farm with me. I don’t think my copy editor’s spare will work on your Jeep.”
“As we appear to be the only live humans on this godforsaken road, offer accepted. Here, take my flashlight. I’ll get the rest of my...” Trailing off, she peered past Sadie into the swirling fog. “Do you hear something?”
“Other than the receding sound of my heartbeat, no.” But she turned to listen.
“I know that engine. Do I know that engine?” Brow knit, Orley strained to see. “Whoever it is, he’s coming fast.”
