Abandon the Dark

by Marta Perry

  “I think I remember you,” she said as he knelt to attach the pump. “I’m Lainey Colton, Rebecca Stoltzfus’s great-niece. I remember you from the summer I spent here when I was ten.”

  Was she imagining it, or did his hands stop moving for a moment? His only response was a grunt that might mean anything.

  “You were a friend of Laura’s, I think. I happened to see her a day or two ago.”

  Still no response. Moose finished the front tire and hauled the pump over to the back one.

  Odd, wasn’t it? Surely it would be more natural for him to say something.

  She watched the tire inflate slowly. Moose had been one of Laura’s admirers, she realized, like the others in that picture. Moose finished the job, tightening the cap on the valve. She couldn’t tell anything about his reaction to her questions—not when all she could see was his back.

  “I have to admit that I had a crush on Aaron that summer. It was so tragic when he died. Wasn’t it?”

  The hubcap he held clattered to the ground. He stood, and suddenly he was looming over her, a jack handle still in his grip.

  “What’re you driving at with all these questions?” His broad face reddened alarmingly.

  Lainey took an involuntary step back and then wished she hadn’t. She didn’t want him thinking she was scared of him, but there was a kind of dumb malignance in his glare that was unsettling.

  “I wasn’t questioning you. Just making conversation, that’s all.”

  “Yeah? I don’t want to talk about it.” He fingered the jack handle. “It’s done with now. Aaron’s dead and Victor’s dead and that’s an end to it.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something painful.”

  “Nosy kids.” He glared at her. “That’s what you were. I remember. For all I know, you might’ve been the ones told the chief about me getting the beer for the parties.”

  “We didn’t. How could we know that?” And why on earth would that bother him after so many years? Maybe he was the sort who’d hold on to a grudge forever.

  “Lots of kids did that. I wasn’t the only one.”

  “I’m sure you weren’t.”

  “Anyway, it didn’t have anything to do with Aaron getting drowned.” He turned away, apparently satisfied he’d made his point, and tossed the jack handle into the truck, where it landed with a loud clang.

  Lainey couldn’t help venturing another question. “Did the police say it did? If Aaron had been drinking—”

  He swung back toward her, his big fists clenching. “If you want to stick around Deer Run, you better learn to keep quiet about stuff.”

  He tossed the rest of his gear in the pickup, climbed in, and backed out of the drive without, as far as she could tell, even a glance behind him. His truck was out of sight before she realized she hadn’t paid him.

  That had been an odd reaction. In fact, Deer Run seemed full of people who reacted oddly to talk of Aaron Mast’s death.

  * * *

  BY EVENING, LAINEY felt a sense of accomplishment. Aunt Rebecca’s situation was settling down, and plans had been made to transfer her to the rehab facility on Monday. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt so optimistic about Aunt Rebecca.

  Or, for that matter, so satisfied with her own actions. In the ordinary routine of her life, no one depended on her. She’d thought she liked it that way. Being responsible for Aunt Rebecca might be a bit scary at times, but it was also oddly fulfilling.

  As Lainey had expected, the hospital billing department had begun making noises about being paid. Given the amount Aunt Rebecca had in the bank, she could handle that as long as they deferred the property tax payment for the moment.

  She’d considered talking the matter over with some other member of the family, but who? Certainly not Zeb, and Lainey was reluctant to burden Katie with it, fearing she’d feel responsible. No, Aunt Rebecca had trusted her, and she’d begun to feel worthy of that trust.

  At least they’d seen some positive steps today. She and Katie were both convinced that Aunt Rebecca understood what was said to her, even though she did have some difficulty in expressing herself.

  That would improve. She’d assured her great-aunt of that, reading the frustration in Rebecca’s face plainly.

  The only unresolved issue at the moment was exactly how she was supposed to access the funds to pay the bills. Lainey had called Jake’s office somewhat reluctantly. Exposure to Jake had been risky to her emotional balance.

  As it happened, he hadn’t been in, so she’d left a message with his secretary explaining what she needed and requesting the woman call back with the information.

  Lainey double-checked her phone to be sure she hadn’t missed a call and then returned to sorting the papers she’d spread out on the dining room table. One good thing—living as simply as she did, Aunt Rebecca had few bills. Lainey jotted down the figures, not wanting to miss anything. It had grown dark outside while she worked, and the overhead fixture glowed gently. The house was quiet.

  Too quiet, it seemed to her. Did it bother Aunt Rebecca to be alone here? Probably not, since she was used to it. Still, even with the best of outcomes from her stroke, could Rebecca really go back to living on her own?

  The cell phone sounded loud in the stillness. Lainey checked the caller ID with a caution that had become almost automatic. It was Jake.

  She paused for a moment and then picked up the call.

  “Jake. You could have just had your secretary get back to me.”

  “True enough.” His deep voice seemed to hit an answering chord in her. “But I thought you might want the information before Monday.”

  “I do get the feeling the hospital would like to see some payment before they sign off on Aunt Rebecca for the move to rehab. But I don’t suppose they’d hold her hostage.”

  His low chuckle disarmed her. “It never does to take anything for granted where billing offices are concerned. In any event, it’s very simple. All you have to do is stop at the bank with the copies I gave you of the power of attorney information. They’ll need a sample of your signature, and that’s about it.”

  “Good.” She put her great-aunt’s bankbook on top of the folder so she wouldn’t forget it. “I’m glad one thing is simple.”

  “You sound relieved. You haven’t had any more trouble with vandalism, have you?” His tone sharpened.

  “Nothing but two flat tires,” she said.

  “When? Did you call the police?”

  “This morning. And no, I didn’t, because they weren’t damaged. Someone had just let the air out of them.”

  “I still think you should—”

  “Wait a second.” Lainey held the phone away from her ear, focusing on a sound from the rear of the house.

  A familiar meow could be heard even through the door, and Lainey smiled. Cat was persistent.

  “What’s wrong?” Alarm threaded Jake’s tone.

  “Nothing. It’s just the cat.” She headed for the back door, still talking. “I probably should try to find the owners. They might not like my adopting him.”

  It was a good thing she’d left the gaslight on in the kitchen. Fumbling for it in the dark wasn’t her favorite thing. The plaintive meow sounded again, and then turned abruptly to an earsplitting shriek. Something thudded on the porch. The cat gave a yowl that made the hair on her nape lift. Something was wrong.

  Dropping the phone, she raced to the door, fragments of news stories about animal cruelty flashing through her mind. The black cat, Halloween—the possibilities repelled her. She flung the door open. The cat streaked inside, fur ruffled, tail standing on end, and took refuge under the table.

  Fury coursed through Lainey, swamping caution. Grabbing a cast-iron skillet from the rack above the counter, she charged outside. If some kid thought he could get away with terrorizing a defenseless animal, he’d soon learn otherwise.

  She plunged down the porch steps, scanning the yard. Too dark to see much—surely he or they couldn’
t have gotten away that quickly.

  A faint rustle had her swinging toward the overgrown bush at the corner of the porch. Something made the branches move.

  Holding the skillet like a weapon, she approached. “Get out of there,” she ordered. “Now!”

  Nothing. She prodded the edge of the shrub. “You’d better come out. I’ve already called the police,” she lied.

  The night was silent, save for a faint sound that was probably Jake, shouting into the phone. Branches moved. Suddenly a figure exploded from the bush, barreled into her, knocking her flat. It loomed over her, black and menacing.

  The cat leaped to the railing, hissing and spitting. Lainey drew breath to scream. The figure turned and bolted into the shadows, disappearing in an instant.

  Lainey let out a shaky breath, then another. She was still in one piece, and the ground was harder than one might think. Rolling to her side, she got to her feet and stumbled up the steps.

  Cat leaped from the railing to her arms, apparently confident she’d catch him. Holding him close, she went inside. Closed and locked the door. And realized she’d left Jake hanging on the phone.

  When she bent to pick it up, the cat scrambled out of her arms and began washing himself furiously, as if to wipe away every trace of the intruder. Lainey understood how he felt. The shock of the attack—

  She put the phone to her ear. “Jake?”

  No answer, but the call was still open. Frowning, she clicked off and began to hit the number again when she heard pounding on the front door.

  Lainey hurried to the door, pulling it open without bothering to look. It had to be Jake.

  He surged inside, grasping her arms. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  “I’m okay.” Her voice sounded shakier than it should. “How did you get here so fast?”

  “I was in the car when I called you, ready to head home. Tell me what happened.”

  “Someone out back. I heard the cat yowl as if in pain. I thought—well, I didn’t know what to think. Kids, maybe.” She took a breath, trying to calm herself. “When I opened the door the cat raced in, obviously terrified. It made me so angry I charged out without thinking.”

  “You should have locked the door and called the police. Or told me what was going on.”

  She tried to muster up annoyance at his tone. “Listen, there’s no point in telling me what I should have done. Do you want to hear this or not?”

  Jake’s lips quirked, his obvious rush of adrenaline ebbing. “I guess you are all right. Yes, please. Tell me what happened.”

  “Well, I grabbed a skillet, just—well, I wanted to have something in my hand. I couldn’t see anyone, but how could they have gotten away that fast? And then I saw something moving behind that big forsythia at the corner of the porch. I yelled at them to come out.”

  His eyes closed for a split second, as if in pain. “It didn’t occur to you...” He let that trail off with a warning glance.

  “Anyway, nothing moved, so I said I’d called the police. Then a figure burst out, running right into me and knocking me flat.”

  “A figure?” He frowned. “Man or woman?”

  “I couldn’t tell.” She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. “It wore black and had something over its face. Anyway, he or she seemed big, but maybe that’s because I was lying on the ground looking up at it.” She managed a shaky smile. “Among the worst ten seconds of my life. Then the cat jumped up on the railing, spitting and hissing, and he-she-or-it ran.”

  Jake was silent for a moment, frowning. He reached out to touch her arm in a tentative gesture. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” Lainey put as much confidence in her voice as she could produce. “Really.” Now it was her turn to frown. “But what was the point of it? What did he want?”

  “I wish I knew.” The cat stalked into the room and gave Jake a disdainful look. Jake stared back. “He looks for all the world as if he’s reminding me that he protected you and I didn’t.”

  Lainey’s heart gave a slight lurch. “It’s not your job to protect me.”

  Jake seemed to study her face, as if probing for meaning. “If you want me to apologize for kissing you, I will. It was unprofessional, to say the least. But even leaving that aside, I’m the one who brought you here. That gives me a reason to look out for you.”

  Lainey wasn’t sure how to react to that. Was he regretting the kiss? It was a bit late to deny that they were attracted to each other.

  “I don’t need an apology. As for looking out for me—well, I’ve been doing that myself for a long time.”

  Jake looked as if he thought that was a sad commentary on her life, but he didn’t say so.

  “Well, whatever is going on here, we’re in this together.” He glanced at the cat again. “Were they after that cat? Or did he just get in the way?”

  “I don’t know.” Lainey shoved her hair back away from her face. “At first I thought it was kids. You hear about cruelty to animals—cats especially—around Halloween.”

  Jake’s frown deepened. “I suppose, although the pranks have always been pretty benign around here. But it seems more likely that it would be a group of kids, not a lone individual. And why the attack on you?”

  She shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. “Just trying to get away, most likely. I was in the way.”

  “Could be,” he conceded. “But what if all this—the broken window, the witchcraft signs, what happened tonight—what if it’s really directed at you?”

  “If so, I’d think it has to be Zeb.” She spread her hands wide. “There isn’t anyone else who’d want to scare me.”

  Other than her anonymous caller, of course. But he or she couldn’t be here.

  “Could it have been Zeb tonight?” His gaze sharpened on her face.

  Lainey tried to picture the image in her mind. “I don’t think so,” she said reluctantly. “The beard—the size—it’s all wrong.”

  “But if the mask or clothing covered the beard—” he began.

  She shook her head. “Come here.” She went quickly to the dining room table, pulled the pad she’d been using toward her, and sketched with rapid strokes, the image becoming clearer in her mind as she did.

  “See? It looked big looming over me, but that beard couldn’t have been hidden. This was a black or navy sweatshirt with a hood, I think. Can you imagine Zeb in something like that?”

  “No, I guess not.” He leaned over her, his hand planted on the table next to hers. “What’s this?” He pointed to a drawing farther up the page, next to the list she’d been making.

  “I was doodling while we talked on the phone, that’s all.” She didn’t even remember doing it, but she’d sketched a small picture of trees, arching together, reaching out in an oddly menacing way. There seemed to be an impression of a stream behind them.

  “It looks like Parson’s Dam.” Jake’s voice was flat. “Where Aaron died.”

  She shoved the pad away with a quick movement. “How could it be? I haven’t been back there since I returned. Anyway, what if it was?”

  “I don’t know.” The words came out slowly, and Jake’s expression was troubled. “But there have been a string of problems growing out of Aaron’s death, starting when Rachel came back to Deer Run. Rachel, Meredith, now you.” He shook his head. “It sounds stupid even to say it. But what if that’s not over?”

  She’d like to dismiss that idea, but she couldn’t, not entirely. Not when it still haunted her dreams.

  She clasped her hands in front of her on the table. “Are you saying I should leave?”

  “No.” Jake put his hand over hers, enveloping them in a firm grip. “I’m saying be careful.”

  Someone was trying to scare her away from Deer Run. Given all the times she’d packed up and moved on because of something relatively minor, one would think that was her automatic response to trouble.

  Maybe automatic responses could change. She wouldn’t leave. She was going to s
tay, do what she’d come here to do, and find out who was behind all this. She was done running.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JAKE HAD FINALLY talked Lainey into calling the police the previous evening. Now he was beginning to wonder whether that had been a mistake.

  He walked toward the fire hall grounds on Saturday morning. The young patrolman who’d come in answer to the call was now busy directing Apple Festival traffic into the parking area. That job was probably far more suited to his talents, Jake considered.

  Maybe he was being unfair. The kid probably wasn’t much more than eighteen or nineteen, with little experience.

  He’d been polite enough, listening gravely to Lainey’s story. He’d asked questions and carefully jotted down the answers in a small notebook.

  And in the end he’d ventured the opinion that it was most likely Halloween-inspired vandalism. Kids, he’d opined from the height of his eighteen or nineteen years, were copying things they ran across on social media, thinking it made them cool.

  Jake had had to bite his tongue to keep from spilling out the whole complicated story of who might want to hasten Lainey’s departure from Deer Run and why. Neither she nor Rebecca would thank him for involving family members with the police.

  Jake joined the stream of people moving onto the fire hall grounds. The Apple Festival was one of the highlights of life in Deer Run, and no one who called himself a resident would miss it.

  But he had an ulterior motive for his presence today. Lainey had mentioned she was coming with Meredith and Rachel. He wanted Lainey’s cooperation for a little experiment he planned to try, and at least if he spoke to her in the midst of a crowd, he wouldn’t be tempted to kiss her.

  His jaw clenched at the thought of how difficult it had been to keep his hands off her last night. He’d left so abruptly that she’d probably thought him rude.

  Stupid. He wasn’t a teenage boy, easy victim to raging hormones. He’d never found it difficult to maintain a respectful distance from a client before.

  Well, he’d have to figure out a way, because if she agreed to his suggestion, they’d be spending even more time together in the near future.