“Do I do that?” she asked aloud. “Is that why I want to help Gabe so much even though I’m upset with him? I got away so the kidnapper is taking others?”
She heard something outside, and went to her bedroom window to see what caused the sudden noise. It didn’t quite sound like car tires crunching gravel in the driveway. She’d instantly hoped Gabe was driving in, but she saw no headlights or vehicle below.
The outside safety lights went off and it was pitch-black. Just as she gasped, she heard a pop and the interior house lights went dark too.
Tess fumbled her way to the side window to see if Gabe’s house lights were out. No, she could see light coming from his place.
Wanting to call Gabe, she shuffled to the back window and felt for her purse on the small dresser. It wasn’t there. She knew there was a flashlight downstairs, but she’d have to be careful on the stairs. What if this blackout was set up by someone? She needed that phone now, needed Gabe! Why had she ever been angry with him?
As she dropped to her knees to feel for her purse on the floor, she glanced out the window. She could see a light outside, moving through the rows of corn below, coming closer.
13
Tess stared at the single light flickering through the corn. It moved steadily along the back of her yard, maybe only a couple of rows in. She tried to concentrate on the dark form carrying it. The person was holding the light low, maybe thinking it was hidden or so it wouldn’t reveal a face. It was hard to tell the person’s height from this high up. She was so scared for a moment she just stared, mouth open.
Then she scrambled to action, fumbling for her purse. She found it and reached inside for her phone. Its dim light almost blinded her. She had to ransack her purse, looking for her billfold, where she’d tucked the paper with both of Gabe’s numbers written on it.
Her hand shook so much as she punched in Gabe’s home phone number she misdialed and had to do it again. He had to be there. He could get in his cruiser, scare away or catch whoever that was. Could it be someone related to the kidnappings, who wanted to chase her away? Or worse, to silence her?
Gabe’s number rang and rang. He told her if she dialed 911, his night dispatcher could reach him, so maybe she should do that. As his home phone was still ringing, she peeked out the window. The light in the corn was moving right through the area where she’d been snatched. She heard a voice.
“Gabe McCord.”
“Gabe, it’s Tess. Someone made all my lights go out, both inside and out. And someone’s out in the corn in back with a light, kind of moving around, out by where I was taken.”
“I’m looking out the window. Yeah, you’re pitch-dark. Stay put in the house, and I’ll be right there. I’m going to get a stun gun as well as my pistol and come through the cornfield between us on foot, see if I can surprise your visitor.”
“But I want him gone! Can’t you run the siren on the cruiser?”
“Tess, we want to catch this guy. I’ll be right there, sweetheart, so don’t be afraid.”
Sweetheart? That word both comforted and frightened her, just like his plan. She crawled from the back window to the side one and crouched under the window, staring through the darkness toward Gabe’s place.
She felt a sudden surge of anger. She couldn’t just cower here, had to do something to help. Rather than just watch for Gabe, she returned to the back window so she could look at the light and maybe signal with her phone or shout to Gabe which way it went.
She couldn’t let this monster control her. And she’d never forgive herself if something happened to Gabe.
* * *
Gabe strapped on his gun belt and grabbed the stun gun and a flashlight but didn’t take time to throw on a jacket. Thank heavens he was here, not in town, not in the shower or in bed. It was only a little after ten. He’d been exhausted, planning to hit the rack for a couple of hours, but now adrenaline surged through him.
He raced out the side door, cursed taking the time to lock it, but he didn’t want anyone to get inside to see what he had hidden in his spare bedroom. He tore past his parked cruiser into the field that stretched to Tess’s house. He pushed himself hard. Ears of corn bounced against his shoulders and hips. He told himself to keep his toes pointed in, concentrate on not tripping over roots. Surely Aaron was going to cut these fields soon, though they’d been planted later than most in the area. At least asking when they’d be cut would be an excuse to interview the man. He didn’t want someone being able to sneak up on Tess or him either like this.
Compared to when he used to run miles each day, he felt out of shape, sucking air. He slowed to avoid giving himself away with noise. It was so different from the way they’d handled problems in Iraq. They’d go in with a heavily armed convoy accompanying his blast-resistant Humvee with its four-hundred-pound doors. That let people know they were coming, that they could handle things, that the U.S. had power and might. But he’d also used remote-controlled cameras and robots to defuse danger. Here in Cold Creek it was hands-on and in-your-face.
As he neared the Lockwood edge of the field, he raised his flashlight and blinked it at the side of Tess’s house, once, twice, just to let her know he was here. He strained to listen a moment to see if he had spooked the intruder. If the guy ran, he’d hear him rustle the corn, wouldn’t he? Who among the suspects had the know-how to cut off the power to Tess’s place?
Gabe heard her open her window above him. Did she think his signal meant she must answer? If the guy had a gun, she was about to make herself a target.
He vaulted out from the corn to yell up at her, but she called down, “He’s moving away, toward Dane’s place! I think he’s almost halfway across, but I can’t see his light now. He was in a row about where the swing set used to be, but he could have doubled back. Be careful!”
“Stay in there!” he shouted. He turned on his flashlight and, holding the stun gun, ran across the small backyard and crashed back into the rows of corn. Marva had said Dane, John and Sam were out in the hills tonight, but were they really? If there were three of them, he could be running right into a trap where he was outnumbered.
He switched off his light and went around to another row far from the area Tess had indicated. If this was a ploy to lure him away from Tess, to make sure he was out of the way so someone could not just scare her but hurt her, he wouldn’t allow it.
Moving out of the field onto the side road, he headed back toward her house. Close to her property, he saw why her lights had gone out. A vehicle had hit the pole that carried those wires, and the whole thing was atilt. It was no accident, he’d bet, as there was no vehicle in sight. He’d have to notify gas stations and body shops in the area to watch for dents in fenders or crumpled hoods. Maybe Mike could get paint scrapings off the pole.
He cut across Tess’s backyard, playing his light on the ground before him. Two eyes gleamed at him from the picnic table. He jumped back, transferred the stun gun to his left hand and went for his pistol.
But the thing—a dog—didn’t move. Glassy-eyed. Dead. Mounted. Again, memories of Iraq haunted him. There had always been dead dogs in the streets, but what did this one mean? The scarecrow, now this. Either someone was leaving him clues, or this was meant to scare Tess away.
He shone the light on the dog. The shadows made it look even more frightening. This could be John Hillman’s taxidermy work. But he’d never be so stupid as to leave it here, like a calling card, a come-haul-me-in-for-questioning sign. So who had left it here?
Through the back door, Gabe told Tess to stay inside, then he slumped on the picnic table seat. He called Vic.
Vic was staying in a motel out on Route 23 almost to Chillicothe. Gabe updated him. Vic said Mike had gone to BCI headquarters, but he’d get him back to look at the taxidermy work on the dog. Mike would also check for paint on the telephone pole. He said he’d see him first t
hing in the morning at the sheriff’s office.
Gabe called Jace and asked him to call body shops in a wide area to ask that they be notified if someone came in with a staved-in or even dented fender. Then Gabe called the emergency line at the power company to get Tess’s power restored.
“Can I come out now?” she called from the back door.
“No, I’ll come in.”
He didn’t want her to see the dog. It was a pit bull, snarling and looking ready to leap, which was how he felt. As soon as he was done with the staff meeting in the morning, he was going to question John Hillman, Dane Thompson, even Sam Jeffers. They’d better have brought that stag back dead or alive to prove they weren’t around Tess’s place during the night. Could all three guys—loners and eccentrics, though the woods was full of them around here—have colluded on abductions over the years? Hillman was divorced, Sam a longtime widower and Dane a bachelor, so there were no mates or children in their lives.
“Oh! Gabe, what’s that?” Tess cried, coming up behind him.
“I told you to stay inside.”
“A stuffed dog! One that looks like it wants to attack. Obviously a warning to me.”
“I called to get your lights back on, but it may not happen until early morning,” he told her, getting up and facing her to put himself between her and the back cornfield. He snared her wrist with one hand to pull her away from staring at that dog. “Tess, please go in your house, grab a couple of things to spend the night at my place. You got any big plastic trash bags in there? Damn, I’m tired of hauling weird stuff around to show people.”
“I saw you showing the scarecrow to Wanda Kurtz and wondered why. Yes, I have a trash bag. But can’t you stay here instead?”
“We’d be sitting ducks in the dark. We’re going to my place. I’ve got an extra room, a spare bed. You’ll be safer there.”
“We’re going through the cornfield? What if that’s his plan?”
“I think he—or they—only wanted to give you a good scare or warning. Just do as I say, okay?”
“All right, but you haven’t confided in me, and not only about Wanda Kurtz. I hear you’ve been to the Hear Ye Commune, but then I guess I didn’t tell you something too. I heard a woman or girl scream at the compound, but I kind of checked it out and got a reasonable explanation—if reason is any part of that place.”
“What are you, my other deputy? Here, take my flashlight, go in the house, get your things now, or I swear, I’ll arrest you for something and put you in the detention cell in town for safekeeping. I checked out Amanda’s possibly being held at the compound. Brice Monson’s weird, but he’s got too many people around to be hiding Amanda, Jill or Sandy there. Now, do what I say!”
Obviously as frustrated with him as he was her, Tess grabbed the flashlight from him, went in, slammed both doors, came out, threw a trash bag at him and banged inside the house again. That all infuriated him too, but for one thing. She was not whimpering in a corner. It was kind of the spunky, younger Teresa again, animated, defiant, a fearless tomboy before trauma had crushed her.
Trying to keep his temper in check—it riled him especially that he wanted to put his hands all over her even when she was defying him—he worked the dog into the bag so he could carry it upright.
Tess came out with a full paper sack and her purse and thrust the flashlight back at him. “See, you’ve turned me into a bag lady,” she said. “Like one you’re taking off the streets because she can’t care for herself. But I wasn’t going through that field with my suitcase.”
“Let’s go. We’ll set a timer and argue for an hour, then hit the rack, or since you’re a bag lady, hit the sack. We’re both exhausted, and I can’t believe you’d even consider staying here alone tonight after this.”
“Let’s see, how to put this...” she said, her tone still sarcastic, as they walked toward the cornfield with him leading. “You can’t teach an old, scared and traumatized dog new tricks, so Tess is going to ruin things if she tries to think on her own to help you out. She was misled at first because you said you wanted her to help, so—”
“I wanted you to remember what happened to you when you were taken twenty years ago, not take over now! Did you lock up the house?”
“Of course. Did you lock yours in your rush?”
“You bet I did. Look, I know you’re upset and scared, but keep quiet right now. There’s another saying that I’ve seen on signs in yards around here for years—Beware of Dog—and I think that’s the message here.”
“From that stuffed, dead dog or from the top-dog sheriff?”
He turned back to face her. “Stop fighting me! Someone wants you to leave town or worse. Or if this dead dog is a message for me, I’m not sure what it means.”
“I was just...just trying to keep my courage up, I think.”
“Stick close, okay? Right behind me.”
As he turned away to head into the field, he heard her sniff back tears. He knew he shouldn’t have been so rough, but she really got to him. Maybe she was right on the edge of hysteria. Actually he knew the feeling. How many times had he beat down a screaming fit of fear when he’d had to dismantle a bomb by hand when the robot just wouldn’t work?
“Yes, I’m staying close,” she told him in a suddenly quiet voice that caught on a half-smothered sob as they headed into the tall, thick corn between their houses.
* * *
Tess drank the hot chocolate he fixed for them in his kitchen. She remembered how it had once looked, but it had all been updated, even to stainless-steel appliances. If she could recall what a kitchen looked like from two decades ago, why couldn’t she recall more important things? She looked around. It was neat, not even dishes in the sink or drain rack. He’d pulled down all the blinds so no one could see in. She felt safe from anything outside now, but sealed in with him, newly alert as they faced each other across the wooden kitchen table.
“I can’t take you to the early-morning meeting at the station with me,” he told her. “But since you’re so involved—and I didn’t mean to shut you out except to keep you safe—I’ll call you right after and tell you what the three of us have decided.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“But I want you to stay here until the power is restored at your place.”
She nodded. She was so exhausted her eyes almost crossed.
He went on, sounding nervous, “I’d better open up the extra bedroom for you so it heats up in there. I keep both extra rooms upstairs closed in the heating season. There’s just one bath upstairs—a half bath down here, but you’re welcome to take a shower or whatever. I’ll get some towels out.”
“Your mother would be proud of your hospitality and how great this place looks. She was always a good hostess.”
“Yeah. Still is in the trailer park where she lives in Florida. Too good a hostess at times, I guess.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but a bath and bed sounded so good. And to sleep at night in security, to feel safe, as she never quite had in the old house the three nights she’d been back, would be great—safe from everything except her feelings for Gabe.
She followed him upstairs as he opened the door to a plainly furnished bedroom. It was his boyhood one, she was sure of that, though it had been redone. It was a bit feminine, maybe in case his mother visited. So he must sleep in his parents’ larger one across the front of the house. But no, he tossed his windbreaker into the room at the back end of the hall.
“Don’t you sleep in front?” she asked, suddenly feeling awkward again as his eyes swept her. Oh, no, that over-the-waterfall sensation again. She’d been fighting it, but feelings flew between them like pounding spray.
“No, I keep that for my home office,” he said, but he didn’t open the door to give her a glimpse. “It’s bigger. I’m down the hall. I can use the bat
hroom downstairs, so you just go ahead.”
He got a set of towels and an extra blanket from a hall linen closet and piled them in her arms. “I’ll be getting up early,” he said. “Probably before six. If you want to join me for breakfast that’s fine. Otherwise just get what you want, and don’t go back to your house until you’re sure the power’s on,” he repeated. “Don’t answer the phone here either. Only use your cell.”
He was so close she could see how thick his eyelashes were. Little flecks of gold swam in the blue irises of his eyes. He had a slight scar on his chin—from the war?
“I can’t thank you enough,” she whispered.
“Maybe sometime,” he said. Then before she knew it was coming, he leaned forward to kiss her.
At first it was just closed lips, controlled, kind of sweet. But suddenly they crushed the stack of towels and the blanket between them, holding tight, clinging. When she clasped her arms around his neck, everything cascaded to the floor. They pressed together, chest to breasts, hips and thighs. His hands raced over her waist and back as they opened their mouths in a devouring kiss. He cupped her bottom with his hands, lifted her up against him, before setting her back, almost roughly. Both dazed and shaky, they stared wide-eyed at each other, standing a few feet apart.
“I don’t mean to take advantage of the situation,” he said, his voice raspy. “You have to be able to trust me. I made a big mistake once, mixing business with...with pleasure.”
She was breathless too, but she managed to speak. “Dating Ann or someone else?”
“Yes, Ann. I should have considered her hair-trigger-temper brothers, as well as the fact that I wasn’t that crazy about her. Besides, it hit me a few minutes ago that one of them—Jonas—raises pit bulls. I’ve been wanting to bust him for illegal dogfights. I think they have some sites in the woods, but I’ve never found the locations. And they’re very protective of Ann. I’ve been trying to back off, even before you came back, but they all think I should be full steam ahead—like just now—between us.”