by Clare Revell
“The North Fork.”
“I’ll be there in five.” He looked at Meredith. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“It’s fine. I apologize for falling asleep.”
He smiled, his knuckles grazing the side of her face. “Go back to sleep. You’ll be safe here. There are spare pillows and blankets in the tall cupboard in the bedroom.” He whistled for Bowie and headed to the door.
Grabbing the rifle and spare box of shells, Jeremiah headed out to the truck, Bowie by his heels. He didn’t bother with the lead. They were hunting. Bowie jumped into the front of the truck and Jeremiah climbed in after him.
He nodded to Meredith standing in the window, and flipped on the headlights. He drove down the path as fast as it was safe to do so, towards the North Fork. At least the rain had stopped and the wind had died down. The wet ground should make tracking easier. He pulled into the parking area to find Terry and four other rangers all armed and ready to go.
“Bowie, stay at heel,” he said, jumping out of the truck and heading over to the other men.
“Right,” Terry began not wasting any more time. “Ben and Ian take the left path. Mick and Arthur take the right. Jeremiah and I will stay on this one. Keep together; I don’t want anyone taking any stupid risks. Keep in contact and check in every few minutes.”
Jeremiah waited until the others had gone, then looked at Terry. “How bad?”
“Badly scratched and bitten. The ambo’s have taken her to the main road where she’ll be airlifted to Turningdale.”
“Not here?” he asked as they began to walk.
Terry shook his head. “No. Head Office doesn’t want the press getting wind of this just yet. The less chance of gossip the better.”
“I don’t think there is much chance of that,” Jeremiah muttered. “Matt Howell got admitted to the hospital here this afternoon. Badly bitten and needed surgery.” His torch lit the path in front of them, every so often flashing into the bushes.
Crashing came from the trees to their left. Both men turned and aimed torches towards the sound. Silvery-blue eyes glinted, followed by a snarl and a blur as the animal leaped from the bushes towards them, knocking Terry to the ground.
Jeremiah brought up his rifle and fired into the air. The beast leapt back into the woods.
Terry scrambled to his feet. “You missed.”
“I didn’t want to hit you.” Jeremiah set off in pursuit, Terry relaying their position as they ran. Bowie ran ahead and it wasn’t long before Jeremiah could hear the snapping and growling of animals fighting. Worry for Bowie’s safety spurred him forwards and into a small clearing. He fired again. “Bowie, heel!”
The creature spun around and sprang, sailing through the air towards him.
Jeremiah fired, point blank range, acting instinctively. The creature fell, landing at his feet.
“Well done,” Terry said. He crossed over to the creature. “It looks like a wolf, but I didn’t think they were native to England. Surely we’d know if the local zoo had lost an animal.”
The animal wasn’t dead and leapt up with a snarl, clawing Terry, trying to bring him down.
Jeremiah fired again, praying he wouldn’t miss, that the close quarters wouldn’t result in Terry also being hit. The beast finally went down, just as the other rangers ran into the clearing.
Jeremiah glanced up as he dropped to his knees beside Terry, clamping a hand over the wound. “Call an ambulance, and a vet. I want this thing caged, just in case. I also want to know what it is.” He looked back at his friend. “Lie still, mate. Help’s coming. You’ll be fine.”
6
Meredith woke with a crick in her neck, not sure where she was. Then she remembered. The cottage was quiet. Maybe Jeremiah was still asleep. She hadn’t heard him come in, but then she didn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well.
Her clothes lay folded on the coffee table, so she knew he’d come in at some point overnight.
Standing, she stretched, grabbed her clothes, and padded down the hallway to the bathroom. The bedroom door was ajar and she caught a glimpse of Jeremiah sitting on the bed, eyes wide and staring across at the wall. His Bible lay on his lap. She wondered if she should knock; make sure he was all right because he looked awful, as if he hadn’t slept at all. But he then slid off the bed onto his knees and closed his eyes.
Not wanting to disturb him, Meredith headed to the bathroom. Once dressed, she went to the kitchen and filled up the kettle with the water from the filter jug.
She took jug to the sink to refill it. Glancing out of the window, she caught a glimpse of silvery blue eyes watching her from the forest. She shivered. For once, she hadn’t dreamt about them, yet still they seemed to follow her. She looked again, but they’d gone.
A car pulled up outside. Two men in forestry uniforms climbed out and made their way around to the office at the side of the building. That was the only part of the cottage Jeremiah hadn’t shown her the previous evening, even though he’d pointed out the door.
The kettle boiled and she made tea for herself and a large carafe of coffee. She put it and three cups on a tray, along with milk and sugar and carried it to the office.
Jeremiah’s voice came from behind the door, his finger tapping on something. “Terry and I were here when we were attacked. I got back from the hospital about three this morning. He’s hurt, but the surgeon thinks he’ll make a full recovery. I’m still waiting on the vet’s report.”
“I have that here.” Paper thudded onto the desk.
“You have to get rid of her. If the press gets wind of this…with her here you know what will happen.” Another voice Meredith didn’t recognize chimed in.
Did he mean her?
“And send her where? I can’t exactly put her back on the next train to London. It’s Christmas.” Jeremiah asked. “Anyway, the danger is past now.”
Yes, they were talking about her.
“Don’t be so sure. The one you killed yesterday was a young male. The vet thinks it’s probably around four months old. That means the pack isn’t far away.”
Meredith knocked on the door, uncomfortable with what she was hearing.
Jeremiah pulled open the door a little bit. “Meredith…”
She smiled. “Morning. I made you some—” She broke off as the tray was taken from her hands. “—coffee,” she finished.
“Thank you. We have a, um, situation. I’ll be out in a bit.” He closed the door.
The voices continued, but now too low for her to overhear. She headed back to the lounge and tidied up. She could get back to the boarding house on her own. She couldn’t stay where she was unwelcome, no matter what was said the previous night. Christmas alone in a London hotel suddenly seemed very appealing.
She plumped down on the sofa and grabbed the A-Z of Paradise to check the maps for directions from the boarding house to the station. As she settled back to glance through, church bells began to ring urgently. Even though it wasn’t Sunday, and definitely not a call to worship, the sound penetrated into the forest.
Clang, clang, clang…
The sound gave her goose bumps and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Music echoed in the back of her mind.
Jeremiah rushed in. “I have to go.”
“What’s going on?”
“No time to explain. Stay here. I’ll lock up, but don’t open the door to anyone.” He caressed the side of her face and kissed her forehead.
“OK, but why?”
“Just promise me you’ll stay here where it’s safe.”
“OK.” She leaned back as Jeremiah ran from the room.
The men ran from the building and jumped into Jeremiah’s truck with the dog. All of them were armed.
Meredith headed down the corridor to the office. She tried the handle. The door swung open. Maps covered the walls, radios and lots of electrical equipment cluttered the desk. A computer hummed quietly, with a chair in front of it, Jeremiah’s cardigan slung over the ba
ck.
One of the maps was surrounded by photos, pins, and red string. She crossed over to it, recognizing some of the photos. Her grandparents’ house, the ranger station, and another cottage that looked vaguely familiar. It had flowers covering a trellis arch over the door. Maybe she passed it whilst walking.
Sitting in the computer chair, she began to read the newspaper clippings in an open file on the desk. Some of the cuttings were just local news, town shows. There were sporadic reports of animal attacks, rumors of a beast in the woods. She turned a page, swinging the chair away from the desk. There was a photo of that cottage again.
Voices echoed in her mind. She closed her eyes. She could see the cottage and a small child playing outside as if she were there. Laughter, long hair flying, flowers in a meadow or garden. A bell ringing…
Something clattered to her left and her eyes sprang open.
Wolfe stood in front of her.
She jumped in fright, the file falling to the floor, spilling its contents everywhere.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you. “ He bent to help her pick up the pieces of paper. ”I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I heard the bells as I passed through the forest.”
“I’m fine,” she managed, her heart rate slowing. She shoved the papers into the folder, hoping the order didn’t matter too much. “How…how did you get in?”
“The side door was unlocked. A little careless of Jeremiah, I must admit.” His blue eyes with silvery flecks glinted, mesmerizing her.
“He said he’d lock up on his way out.”
Wolfe tilted his head. “Well, that’s Jeremiah for you; says one thing, does another.” He studied one of the photos before handing her a pile of papers. “That’s all of them.”
“Thank you.” She narrowed her eyes, getting to her feet, the file clasped tightly in her hand. “How did you know I was here?”
“I know the forest,” he said, the smile unnerving her. “Besides with the travel ban last night there was no way anyone could go anywhere.”
Meredith stood, anxious to get rid of the man. “Well, as you can see, I’m fine. Thank you for stopping by. I don’t want to keep you.”
He turned to go, and then stopped. He lifted a battered violin case. “I play, like you. Your father used to play the violin, do you remember?”
“Did you know my parents?”
“I did.” Wolfe’s smile grew. “Your father was almost as good as you. Of course, he never played professionally. What did the LSO want? Did they write to ask you back?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to…” She broke off, music playing in her head. She could see a fire, a tree, a tall, blond man playing carols in the darkened, candlelit room.
“You should play professionally again. Talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted.”
“I haven’t played in a while.” She wrapped her arms around her middle.
“Play for me.” He offered her the case.
She shook her head. “No, I’d like you to leave. I appreciate you stopping by to check on me, but Jeremiah should be back soon, and I have things to do.”
“Where will you be staying for Christmas? Here or with your grandparents?” His eyes flickered as the light caught them, undisguised interest amidst the blue and silver.
Meredith did a double take. This man knew way too much about her. “I don’t want to be rude, but that’s none of your business. You came to see how I was. You’ve done that. I’d like you to leave now. Please, don’t make me ask again.”
Wolfe nodded. “I’ll leave my violin. I want you to play it, Meredith.” He inclined his head. “Until we meet again.”
Meredith followed him through the office, to the side door and bolted it top and bottom behind him. She shoved a chair in front of it, and then locked the internal door just to be on the safe side. She blocked that with a chair as well, before checking the other doors. Satisfied she was now locked in, she returned to the lounge taking the file of clippings with her.
Footsteps crunched outside and she jumped and glanced at the window. Only when the retreating figure vanished from sight did she let go of the breath she was holding.
She opened the file again. A newspaper cutting lay on the top. The photo of a family, the cottage, and the huge title Mutilated and murdered in their own home filled her vision.
Meredith gasped, shock striking her with the force of a thunderbolt. That was her, staring out of the photo. She’d have been about seven. But she wasn’t dead, nor was Annabelle. They were both very much alive.
Her fingers traced the faces in the black and white photo. Though she hadn’t seen her parents in years she recognized them. “Mum, Dad, me, Annabelle, Baby Gretchen.”
Her finger paused over the face of the fourth child—a tall boy, with dark, shaggy hair. Who was he and why didn’t she remember him?
7
Jeremiah arrived back at the ranger station, exhausted. It had been a wild goose chase, or to put it more aptly, a wild beast chase, with nothing to show for it. The town was still on lock down, and would be until the rest of the search teams returned.
Bowie flopped down onto the verandah and sighed contently. Jeremiah knelt beside him, checking him over. Aside from a scratch or two the husky seemed unharmed. Jeremiah reached for the first aid kit and gently swabbed them with antiseptic wipes. “Good boy, you did well out there.”
Bowie licked his hands.
“Yes, I love you, too. I need you to stay out here,” Jeremiah told him. “Meredith isn’t comfortable around you right now. That may change, it may not, but we’re not going to inflame the situation.” He slid his key into the side entrance leading to the office and unlocked it, but the door wouldn’t budge. He shook it, but it must be bolted top and bottom. “Meredith?” he called.
There was no answer. What could have happened for her to bolt the door?
He ran around the side of the building to the other door and tried that one. That too was bolted. “Meredith,” he yelled. Still no answer. Fear spiked. Was someone in there with her? Running back to the side, he peered into the lounge window. Meredith sat on the couch, shaking, her head buried in her hands.
Breaking one of the small glass panels, he reached in and opened the window. He climbed inside. With three long strides he reached Meredith’s side. She held the file from the office in her hands.
She was sobbing.
“Meredith?” he asked rhetorically. He sat beside her
She clung to him, scrunching his jacket in her fingers. The paper clipping floated to the floor.
“I’ve got you.” He ran his hands over Meredith’s back, comforting her.
Finally, her sobs eased and she raised her tear stained face to him. “Why do you have this in your office and pictures of Grannie’s house on your wall?”
He handed her the box of tissues. “You were never meant to see it.”
“Why not?” She blew her nose and wiped the tears from her face. Pointing to the clipping he knew so well, Meredith stabbed at the photo. “That’s me, and that’s Annabelle, my parents and Gretchen. But Annabelle isn’t dead and neither am I.”
“What do you remember?” he asked gently.
She sucked in a deep breath. “I know my parents and Gretchen died. Grannie told me that, but I don’t know how. But him?” She pointed at the boy. “Him, I don’t remember.”
He prayed quickly for guidance as to what to say. If her memory returned, it had to be on its own. It couldn’t be forced as that would do more harm than good. “Sometimes our minds block out traumatic events, until a trigger happens, and the memories are unlocked. It could be a phrase, a smell, a piece of—”
“—music,” she whispered. She sat up, pulling from his arms. “Wolfe said my Dad played the violin. He left his here for me to play if I wanted to. I can remember someone playing carols by a Christmas tree and a fire, but…” She broke off, her face contorting.
“Hold on.” Confusion and worry filled him. “Go
back a minute. When did you see Wolfe?”
“He came by to check on me when he heard the bells. You know, we met him at the ball, and he was in the boarding house yesterday. He has really strange eyes, blue, almost silver. He seemed to be on first name terms with you.”
Fear flashed briefly before he controlled it. “I told you not to unlock the door for anyone.”
“I didn’t. I looked up and he was standing in the room. He said the door was left unlocked, and after the bells rang he came to check on me. I told him to leave, and he did. Eventually.”
“I did lock up. Every single door. Wolfe must have taken my spare keys.” Jeremiah snatched the radio. “Arthur?”
“You again?” Arthur chuckled. “Which part of go home, take a break, don’t you get, Jeremiah?”
“I need a locksmith and a glazier up here. We need every lock in the building replaced, with only two sets of keys this time.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks.” Jeremiah put the radio down and took Meredith’s hand. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No. He’s just a bit creepy, but he did leave when I asked.”
He tucked her hair behind her ears and brushed the last traces of tears away with his fingertips. “You’re beautiful.”
“And you’re changing the subject.”
He caressed her cheek. “Yes, I am for the moment. Because you need to calm down.” He kissed her gently. She resisted for a moment, then as he was about to pull back, melted into his arms, responding. Her hands slid up his back and through his hair, while his fingers learned the contours of her neck and hairline.
Finally he broke off and pressed his lips to her forehead. He moved to the Christmas tree and turned on the lights, needing the space for a moment. He could still feel her, taste her.
When he did turn, Meredith sat on the couch where he’d left her, her fingers pressed against her lips, her eyes wide, fixed on him.
This was so not in his job description. His was to watch and protect, not to fall in love. But he had. He had to get this conversation back on track and see what she remembered. If this house of cards was about to come tumbling down around her, he’d be there to pick up the pieces.
