"Who'd she have to find?" Lucy said, watching Daisy vibrate. If she'd been shaking like this, it was easy to see why somebody had prescribed something for her.
"Somebody named Mole?" Daisy said, her voice shaking.
"Oh, God, no.' Lucy stood up, her heart in her throat. "The mole. She thinks it's in the woods."
Wilder was out the door before Lucy could say anything else, not moving particularly fast but moving just the same.
"The woods!" Daisy said, her voice rising.
"You stay here and search base camp," Lucy said, pushing past her. "Tell everybody to look for her. Look everywhere."
Then she ran to catch up with Wilder.
Tyler was about to crush the beer can when he heard something moving through the swamp to the east, between his position and the movie camp. He slipped the empty back into the ammunition pocket and stared at the open bag of Cheetos, knowing he couldn't touch it for fear of making too much noise. It was still half full. A damn waste.
He slid onto his belly and crawled, moving away from his hide site, staying in the thick undergrowth, slithering in the mud, and then paused as he heard rustling to his right. Without moving his body or the sniper rifle, he turned his head and peered across the swamp. Peering back was the one-eyed gator, less than twenty feet away in the water, its head raised, the body almost completely submerged, next to a mound about three feet high. As he watched, it opened its mouth, revealing teeth and fangs.
Looking past it, he could see several eggs near the top of the mound and realized the gator was not a buddy but a chick. Well, that puts a whole new light on the situation, Tyler thought. Mothers and their kids—bad news there. He remained still, staring, until the alligator finally lowered her head back into the water.
Won that one pretty easy, he thought.
The sound of a branch snapping echoed through the swamp. The gator shifted its attention to the latest visitor.
Tyler slid the sniper rifle up along his body into the ready position. He peered through the scope, getting only narrow snatches of clear vision through the leaves and branches. Something yellow, about three and a half feet above the ground.
Then through an opening in the leaves he saw the damn Kid from the movie set in her mom's straw hat, taking tentative steps through the swamp along the almost overgrown dirt road.
Nobody with you now, Kid, Tyler thought. Welcome to my world.
Tyler watched her for several seconds, and then smiled as he pulled a small-caliber silenced pistol out of his backpack.
Finally, something fun to do.
* * *
Chapter 8
Wilder was standing in the dark at the edge of the forest when Armstrong caught up to him, tripping on a root just as she reached him so that he had to catch her, the first time he'd ever touched her. "Slow down," he told her, keeping his mind on the mission.
"Slow down?" She grabbed on to him. "Moot's in there."
She was shaking under his hands, and he held on to her a moment too long, trying to make her calm. "I'm thinking." Trying to think like a five-year-old girl. "Moot's in the swamp, not the forest. As long as Pepper stays on dry ground, she'll be okay."
For the first time since he'd met her, Armstrong lost her cool, clutching him tighter. "We have to get in there, she could be in danger—"
"Wait."
"No."
"Stop it," he said, his voice sharp, and her head jerked up. "You're panicking."
"But…" She drew in a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. No panicking. What do we do?"
Wilder wanted to say, You go back to base camp and III go into the forest, but he knew that she wouldn't. "If you're coming with me, you're coming as part of the team, not as a crazy aunt, understand?"
"Yes," Armstrong said, meeting his eyes, and he saw raw fear there, barely under control, and tightened his grip on her.
"You stay behind me," he said quietly, trying to calm her down. "You watch my back, and if you see Pepper, you do not go rushing to her until I tell you to."
She swallowed and nodded. "All right. Yes."
Her voice was steadier, low again, and he let go of her and turned back to the road, figuring there was a fifty-fifty chance she'd follow orders.
Okay, Pepper was looking for a mole and she'd gone into the forest. Probably looking on the ground, in the bushes…
He walked into the woods, moving low, trying to see what she had seen, circling the base camp in a clockwise direction, searching in the dusky light for clues. He could feel Armstrong, silent behind him, staying close, and that was good. He came to an old dirt trail that headed deeper into the forest and paused. A kill zone—that's what a road like this would be taught as in Ranger School. But what would the pathway underneath the overhanging oak trees and the Spanish moss be to a five-year-old?
An invitation to a mole hunt.
Wilder went to his knees and crawled out onto the road, searching as much with his hands as his eyes in the dim reflected light from the camp. He felt Pepper's track, the faintest imprint. He lightly ran the tip of his forefinger along the dirt, getting the impression. Then he felt another. She had been heading down the road, away from the camp.
Wilder got to his feet. "She went this way."
"I'll get a flashlight," Armstrong said.
"No. Ruins your night vision. I know this road. I parked my Jeep down there, off to the left away from the swamp. If we're lucky, that's where she went, to the left, into the forest."
"Why—" Lucy started to say, but then she stopped. "You're sleep-ins out here instead of the hotel."
Wilder nodded and began to move down the trail, eyes shifting left and right, trying to see it there was a point at which the little girl had left the trail, which he sincerely hoped she had not since there was swamp—and Moot-like creatures—to the right. Left would be better. Forest. Safer.
Mole hunting, jeez. Wilder guessed that kids Pepper's age took things literally, something he'd have to take into account in the future.
"Let me call for her," Armstrong whispered from behind him. "She'll come if I call."
"No. I'm listening. Sound is more important at night than seeing." And you don't know what else is out there.
He moved forward once more, taking short steps, eyes shifting, looking off-center of his pupils where the night vision was better. A small Hash of orange caught his eye and he stepped closer to it. A Fritos wrapper hung on a palmetto branch. On the right side of the trail, of course. "What was that fairy tale where someone left a trail of bread crumbs?"
"Hansel and Gretel."
Wilder pointed at the wrapper. "I assume Pepper knows it."
Armstrong reached out for the wrapper, but Wilder grabbed her hand, stopping her. "Best leave it if Pepper put it there."
Wilder shifted his focus to what was ahead. He pushed into the undergrowth and then he heard a soft popping sound, wrong for the forest, wrong for the swamp. "Stay ten yards behind me," he whispered to Armstrong and moved ahead, and as soon as he was clear of her vision, he drew the Glock. The ground went down ever so slightly and soon he was in a mixture of trees and swamp—bell, swamp— decorated every few yards with a Fritos or Cheetos bag. He kept the Clock extended in front of him with his gun hand and placed his off arm, bent at the elbow, in front of his face to protect his eyes from branches and leaves. It was getting dark. Damn dark, Wilder thought. But the popping sound had not come again. Was that good?
He thought of Pepper alone in this place. What the hell had she been thinking? Did five-year-olds think? Wilder was in uncharted territory as far as the nature of his mission objective. He moved his feet carefully, stepping over the soggy ground without making a noise, in hunter mode.
He heard another popping sound and then something large and heavy splashed through the water for several seconds before silence ruled once again.
The damn gator.
But not Pepper. No way the gator got her. She would have screamed. But he still felt the adrenaline pumping and something
else—fear. Not for himself, but for Pepper, and it was a disturbing feeling because he had never experienced fear for another person.
Damn kid.
He took another cautious step and saw Moot, the upper half of her body out of the swamp, resting on a spit of dry land, her head going back and forth as if looking for something. Wilder took a step closer and stumbled on something soft, hitting the ground and rolling to avoid falling on Pepper.
Moot swung her head in their direction and Wilder froze. If she went for them, would the Glock stop her? He was aiming it when something hit the water in the swamp and Moot swung her head around, back in the direction he'd come from. Something else splashed, and then Wilder saw a good-sized rock bounce off Moot's back. He followed the trajectory and saw a shadowy figure about fifteen feet away and realized what was going on.
Lucy was distracting the gator from him and Pepper. She was risking her fool neck, but by God, she had his back. She had a damn good arm, too, he saw as she pitched another rock at Moot.
Hell of a woman, he thought, and crawled back to Pepper, keeping an eye on Moot and his hand on his Glock in case the gator decided to head for Lucy. When Moot stayed where she was, he put his hand gently on Pepper's back, on top of her Wonder Woman cape. "Hey. P.L., you okay?" he whispered.
''Shh," Pepper whispered, staring into the swamp. "M-moot."
"I see her." And she was too damn close, Wilder thought. Less than fifteen feet away, just some thick underbrush between her and their location, probably the same distance from Armstrong. Wilder felt Pepper shivering under his hand. He had to get them both out of there fast.
"She's protecting her nest." Pepper pointed, her finger shaking, her foil-and-duct-tape bracelets reflecting the little moonlight that filtered through the trees.
Wilder peered into the dark. Through the brush and palmetto bushes he saw a mound, about three feet high, about ten feet behind Moot.
''She's dangerous when she's protecting her eggs," Pepper whispered in a wavering voice.
Wilder put his hand once more on her back, taken off guard at how small and fragile she felt. "That's okay. I'm dangerous when I'm protecting you."
Pepper looked up at him. "Really?"
Ah shit, Wilder thought and then froze.
There was something else out there, moving just once, not natural, wrong, something bad, something worse than Moot. Nothing Wilder could pin down to confirm that feeling, but he was absolutely sure of it. Pepper's ghost, he thought. And if Pepper hadn't been lying next to him, he'd have gone and tracked down whoever or whatever it was. But she was right next to him, and she was scared. And that gator was too close and too on edge.
And Armstrong was out there alone.
"Let's go," Wilder said quietly. "Your aunt is worried."
He got to his feet and saw Armstrong standing ten feet away now, as ordered, absolutely still. He knew she must have wanted to run to Pepper, but she hadn't. Teamwork.
Pepper got up, and he shepherded her behind him as he backed away, blocking her from Moot. When they reached Armstrong, she snatched up Pepper, wrapping her arms around the little girl, and he pulled her close with one arm, keeping Pepper between them as he whispered in her ear. "Moot is right there. Take her. I'll be a little while."
"No," she whispered back. "I'm not leaving you alone in here."
"Get her out now," Wilder said, his voice flat, and Armstrong hesitated and then turned for the road.
Wilder shifted his attention back to the swamp as he heard the strange, light popping noise again. Another pop and then all hell broke loose as Moot surged out of the water in their direction. Wilder brought up the Glock, but then he heard a third pop, and Moot slammed to a halt, swinging around to look in the other direction.
Armstrong was moving for the road, Pepper in her arms. Wilder stayed, gun at the ready, watching Moot watch something behind her. Minutes passed and yet the sounds of the low-country night did not return to normal.
There was a sudden splash and Wilder saw Moot turn and dive into the water heading back to her nest.
Time to go.
He backtracked toward base camp, not sure what was going on in the swamp but damn sure he didn't like any of it, and even more sure that whatever it was, it was not going to touch Pepper or Lucy Armstrong.
Lucy walked down the center of the road as fast as she could, Pepper's foil bracelets scratching her neck and Wilder a silent, comforting presence behind them.
"I'm sorry," Pepper whispered into her neck.
"Not your fault," Lucy whispered back, not knowing if gators attacked people for talking and not wanting to find out. "It was my fault, I forgot your party."
"I just wanted everybody to be happy," Pepper said miserably. "Mom and you were fighting, and I thought a party would make you happy—"
"Oh, God, Pepper, we're so sorry." She held the little girl tighter. There was light ahead, the glow from the base-camp lights, and the green darkness of the swamp and woods ending, and Lucy picked up speed, almost running.
"—And I wanted more Wonder Woman stuff," Pepper said and sobbed once before she caught herself.
"I'll get you more," Lucy said, stricken with guilt. "I will fix everything."
Pepper sniffed. "Really?"
"Yes."
Pepper sniffed again. "That's what J.T. said."
"He did?" They reached the edge of the woods and Lucy glanced back at Wilder, who was watching the dark forest.
"He said he was dangerous when he was protecting me, just like Moot was dangerous when she was protecting her eggs."
"Does that make you J.T.'s egg?" Lucy said, and Pepper giggled and then sniffed. She's okay, Lucy thought. Thank you, thank you, she's okay.
Then they came out into the open, and Gloom yelled, "Lucy's got her!" and people began to converge on them, makeup and wardrobe and grips and camera people, Althea and Bryce, everybody crowding around under the lights.
"Wow," Pepper said, cheering up at all the attention.
Gloom took her out of Lucy's arms and hugged her, getting tangled in her blue cape in the process. "Don't you ever do that again, young lady."
"I won't," Pepper said, and then Estelle from wardrobe grabbed her and hugged her, too, as Daisy pushed through the crowd and saw Pepper and burst into tears.
"Okay," Lucy said, cheerfully. "Into the camper."
Estelle put Pepper into Daisy's arms while Lucy turned back to the crowd.
"We are so grateful for your help," she said, putting as much feeling as she could into her voice. ''It means so very much. Thank you very, very much."
"Is she okay?" Mary Vanity asked, her heavily outlined eyes avid, trying to see Pepper as Daisy carried her toward the camper, hugging her the whole time.
"She got a little scared," Lucy said. "There was a gator."
"Moot?" Althea said from behind Mary. "Oh, no." She looked after Pepper with real sympathy on her face. "She must have been terrified."
"She's a tough little kid," Lucy said. "Everything is fine now." Or it's going to be, she thought grimly and headed for the camper.
"Hey," Gloom said to her and she stopped. "Real story?"
Lucy spoke low. "She was scared because all the adults were acting like idiots so she wanted to make sure there was a party tomorrow night and everybody would be happy."
Gloom shook his head. "We have to get her out of here."
"Working on it," Lucy said.
"Can I assume Captain Wilder was a big help?"
"Captain Wilder is a fucking hero," Lucy said, looking over at the edge of the trees, where Wilder stood still as a shadow, looking back into the woods, still protecting them. Oh, God, she thought as her heart thumped, do not get suckered into another one of those guys. You learned your lesson with Connor.
Gloom nodded. "He sounds like Will Kane."
"Give it a rest," Lucy said and turned toward the camper, only to stop when Gloom grabbed her braid and tugged on it. "Ouch?"
"Tell the nice hero thank y
ou," Gloom said, and Lucy pulled her braid from his hand, took a deep breath, nodded, and went toward Wilder, determined to be grateful but businesslike.
"Thank you," she said when she reached Wilder, and he turned, looking surprised.
"Is she okay?"
"Yes, thank you very much." Lucy tried to say more and then realized she was shaking. "Look at me," she said, appalled. "I'm a mess."
"Delayed reaction," Wilder said. "You were tough when you needed to be. That was a good thing you did with the rocks."
His matter-of-factness undid her. Lucy held out her hands, trembling. "That alligator was right there."
"Shhhh," he said, moving closer, broad and solid in the darkness, and without meaning to she leaned against him, her forehead on his shoulder, her hands on his chest, so grateful he was there, she didn't care that she was shaking. He put his arms around her without hesitation, and she was grateful for that, too, more than grateful; it seemed like forever, maybe never, since anybody had held her and made her feel taken care of. He patted her awkwardly on the back, clumsy but sincere, and it felt so good that she sniffed into his collar.
"I'm sorry," she said, not really sorry at all as long as his arms were around her. "I'm not a wimp, I'm really not." But I could learn to be if it gets me this.
"No, you aren't," he said, "you were great in there," and she felt tears well up and relaxed against him until she remembered Pepper saying she'd just wanted them all to stop fighting.
She pulled away. "Don't be nice to me," she said, as he dropped his arms. "It's my fault she went in there. I was so caught up in all this movie mess that I didn't see her go—"
"None of us saw," Wilder said. "Jeez, lighten up."
Lucy started to laugh, blinking back tears. " 'Jeez'?"
"You did good in there," Wilder said, clearly ill at ease. "You backed me up, you were there when we needed you, you completed your mission."
"Oh." Lucy smeared tears away with her fingertips, hating that she was making him uncomfortable. "I'm a good soldier." Well, that was something.
Don't Look Down - Jennifer Crusie Page 13
