by Marlie May
I crept over to my car, remaining in the shadows as much as possible. No need to skyline myself. While it was doubtful anyone hovered in the woods with a gun, prepared to take potshots at me, I’d learned long ago to be careful.
My sneakers crunched on the fallen glass when I leaned forward to look inside the car. Shards covered the passenger seat but there was less on the driver’s side, indicating a blow had come from this angle, shattered the glass inward. I didn’t keep much inside the car worth stealing, nothing but the sweatshirt I’d tossed on the back seat. This had to be solely about revenge.
Since reassuring silence reigned in the woods around me, I straightened and went around to the driver’s side of the vehicle to open the door.
A baseball dropped out.
Awesome. My heart rate dropped to normal in one beat. While I’d been gearing myself up to challenge Tom, the other man was probably sitting in a bar somewhere enjoying a beer, completely oblivious to what was going on out here at the campground.
Kids. Loved ’em, but they sure could get themselves into trouble.
I could picture it now. They’d been tossing a ball around in the parking lot. Someone threw it too hard, and the ball hit my window. Scared they’d get into trouble, they ran rather than reporting the damage.
Well, nothing I could do now but call the rental place. I couldn’t drive the vehicle without a passenger window. Good thing I’d bought expanded coverage when I picked it up.
I grabbed my sweatshirt off the back seat, shook off the glass, and leaned my hip against the vehicle’s back fender while dialing the rental company.
“Ace,” someone said.
I explained the situation.
“Tell you what,” the woman said. “We’ll send out a wrecker to get the vehicle and drop a new one off for you at the same time if you want.”
Decent of them, considering it was a weekend.
“We’re short-staffed tomorrow, so it’ll be easier to take care of this immediately. The wrecker can drop the vehicle in town at the garage where we have a repair contract. You should be fixed in a snap.”
“I appreciate it.” I needed a fully functional vehicle this week.
“No problem. We aim to please. It should take us…” She paused. “Give us half an hour or so, okay?”
Far better than I’d expected.
“Will you be with the vehicle when the wrecker arrives? He can offload the new one, give you the keys, and take the other when he leaves.”
I’d have to run down to the bathrooms and let Ginny know what was going on. She could either come back up here with me to wait or return to the campsite to enjoy the fire. She’d told me earlier she was looking forward to the fireworks, and I’d hate for her to miss them. “I can wait.”
“Thanks. You want a vehicle similar to what you have right now?”
Anything would do. “Sure.”
“We’ll be on it in a flash, then. Bye.”
I pocketed my phone.
Rustling in the woods above the lot drew my eye, and I squinted into the gloom. Clear-cut of all but brush during the past few years, the area was mostly overgrown with tiny new evergreens and a few spindly birch trees. I could see well enough, unlike inside the dense woods near where we’d panned for gold.
Nothing big moved. The sound could’ve been a squirrel or a chipmunk. Or a skunk, although I didn’t smell anything on the wind.
I checked my watch. Ten minutes had gone by. Ginny must be done by now. In fact, I’d—
A scream pealed through the night. The world—and my heart—stilled.
Fuck. I raced for the edge of the lot and barreled down the path. Legs pumping and my heartbeat flailing in my throat, I crossed the green, desperate to reach Ginny. Maybe the scream had been someone else. But with everything that had happened lately…
I stormed into the bathroom, interrupting a bunch of girls doing things to their hair.
“Sorry.”
A girl giggled while I backed out, my palms raised. No Ginny here.
Another scream. Outside?
I rushed out onto the decking and looked around frantically before loping around the side of the building, my feet rattling the pine boards. Where was she?
Whimpers to my left had me wrenching open the wooden door to a family room. Ginny fell out, into my arms. I clutched her to my chest, shaking with relief that she was alive and appeared unhurt. “Sweetheart, what’s happening?”
“A s…s…snake.”
“What?” I tried to peer around her but the door had smacked closed. I rocked her while she trembled. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I was locked inside. And there’s…there’s a snake inside the bathroom. A rattlesnake!”
“Locked? A snake?” I blinked at the door. “Let me look.” I started to ease her to the side, but she clutched my arm, holding me back.
“It’s not safe in there.” Her face gleamed with sweat, and lines of stress created shadows on her face.
“I’ll be careful. I promise.” At her tight nod, I moved around her, keeping her to my back. She crept forward with me to the door. I cracked it open and peered inside. Nothing so far. Opening it wider, I tucked my head in and scanned the room. “There isn’t anything here.” Stepping forward, I started inside, but she grabbed my arm again.
“Don’t go in there. Let’s call the police.”
“I can’t call them unless…”
Her shoulders curled forward. “You don’t believe me.”
“I do.” She’d never make up something like this.
“I saw it. I did. And after that boater tried to run me down this morning—”
My mouth flashed dry. “Wait a minute. What are you talking about?” Shutting the door, I turned fully to face her. “What boater?”
“This morning, I went swimming. A boat came at me, almost hit me. If I hadn’t reached the dock in time…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We weren’t…well, talking.” The shuddering breath she took in only enhanced her shakes. “And the idea seemed so crazy. Why would anyone want to run me over? It couldn’t be anything more than an accident. A guy on the dock said the boater was probably drunk, but now I’m not sure.” Her gaze cut to the bathroom.
“I need to go inside and look around.”
She worried her elbows with her fingertips but nodded.
Turning, I creaked the door open again. A distinctive rattle echoed in the room. Over near the sink, where light from the bulb barely reached, a grayish, circular shadow lay on the floor.
Shit. I backed out and slammed the door shut. Nothing else I could do but pin it in place with my foot. A quick glance took in a two-by-four lying on the ground some distance into the green. I waved toward it. “Grab that for me, would you?”
Ginny brought me the board, and I wedged it underneath the knob. I pulled my phone and dialed.
“9-1-1, please state your emergency.”
It didn’t take long to explain.
“A rattlesnake you say. Not many of them in Maine.”
I grumbled. “I know what I heard.”
“Are you injured? Bitten? Do you need medical assistance?”
“No one has been bitten, but this is a bad situation waiting to happen.”
“Okay, sir. I don’t see why we can’t get someone over there to check it out. If it’s a rattlesnake, someone could be hurt.” She paused and the sound of papers shuffling trailed through the line. “This sounds like something for the game warden to handle, but I doubt I’ll reach her on a weekend. Will the sheriff do?”
Anyone would, at this point. “Of course.”
“He’s been hopping all weekend, chasing down everything from lost grandmothers to lost dogs to lost boats. It could take him some time to arrive. That okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll wait with the…snake?”
Waiting here would mean tag-teaming between the parking lot and the bathroom until the wrecker arrived with my
new vehicle, but Ginny could help. No way would I leave the bathroom untended. A kid could enter and be bitten. “I will.”
“All right, sir. Sheriff Moyer should be there soon.”
I gave the operator our location and then ended the call and pocketed my phone. “My car window is broken and the rental place is sending a new vehicle. They’ll take the old one when they leave.” Her eyes widened, and I explained about the baseball. “Which do you prefer? Snake patrol or parking lot duty?”
“A dark, gloomy parking lot surrounded by woods or sitting out here in the open, with lots of people around, guarding a locked-in snake?” The fact that she could chuckle loosened something in my chest and made me glad I’d helped her relieve some stress. “No choice.” She dropped to the deck and tucked her legs up to her chest.
“You going to be okay?”
The quiver in her lower lip betrayed her dismissive wave. “Go. You need to be there when they arrive. I’ll be all right.”
Two seconds longer wouldn’t make a speck of difference. I dropped to the deck and leaned against the building. Ginny didn’t need any encouragement to crawl into my arms. I held her while she shuddered. “What a day you’ve had.” The boater incident made me want to gnash my teeth and howl. Had it been an accident or something more sinister?
“I still can’t believe it.” Looping her arms around my shoulders, she nuzzled my neck, seeking my warmth and comfort. Knowing she could find it in my arms made my chest swell ten times its normal size.
Did all these incidents add up to anything, or were they just isolated events? Taken on their own, they appeared benign. Even the snake could’ve been a fluke. It was hot out; the creature could’ve sought a cool place to sleep. Ginny was lucky she hadn’t been hurt.
I was damned grateful she was safe. Tightening my arms around her, I rested my chin on her head. “I’m going to do everything within my power to make sure no one harms you.”
She leaned back in my embrace and lifted a shaky smile. “I’ll do the same for you.”
Ten times? Forget that. My chest had swelled twenty times its normal size. What the hell had I done in life to deserve her?
I soon headed to the parking lot. The wrecker arrived and made the exchange. Keys to a fresh vehicle in hand, I jogged back to the bathrooms. I found Ginny sitting in the same place, nibbling on her fingernail but minus those heavy creases on her face.
“Any sounds inside?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Maybe the snake’s asleep.”
“Maybe.” I dropped to the decking beside her and checked the time on my phone. Eight-thirty. It felt like a lifetime had passed in a few minutes.
The crunch of tires in the lot announced a vehicle, and a man strolled down the path toward the bathrooms, a handgun strapped to his belt, keys or change jingling in his pocket. A woman dressed in a similar manner—khaki pants and a button-up shirt, a tan hat on her head—followed, scanning the area with narrowed eyes.
“Mr. Talon?” the man asked as he approached the bathrooms.
I stood and walked down to the grass, hand extended. “Cooper Talon. I placed the call.”
“Name’s Bill Moyer.” The sheriff’s solid gaze drilled into mine as if ferreting out hidden secrets. Since I had nothing to hide, I maintained the other man’s gaze until the sheriff’s dropped. He gestured to the woman, who nodded. “Deputy Franks.” He removed his hat and scratched his head. “Dispatcher said something about a rattlesnake?”
I explained.
“You do know that there haven’t been rattlesnakes in Maine for years. They’re extinct. If I had my guess, we’re dealing with a milk snake here.”
I hadn’t heard of a milk snake, but I’d seen my share of rattlers in other parts of the world. Their distinctive sound could never be forgotten.
Ginny came over to stand with us. “It rattled.”
“Ma’am.” Bill dipped his chin toward her. “Thing is, milk snakes shake their tails when they’re threatened. People confuse them with rattlesnakes all the time. But milk snakes are harmless.”
“I don’t know.” Ginny picked at her lower lip. “It sounded real to me. Terrifying.”
Bill tugged on his belt and stiffened his backbone. “Well, there’s no harm in taking a look, now is there?” He climbed the stairs and pulled the two-by-four away from the door, propping it on the outer wall. He opened the door and stomped inside, his boots creating hollow thuds on the floorboards. “Hmm. I don’t…” The door slammed shut behind him.
I started to follow, but the deputy snagged my tee, holding me back. She lifted her eyebrows and pressed for a smile. “Pretty scary if there’s a snake in there. But don’t worry. Not much scares Bill.”
Bill appeared at the door again, shaking his head. “Don’t see anything inside. Looked around good, too.” In no time, he’d wedged the board underneath the doorknob again.
Ginny clenched her hands to her chest. “There was a snake in there.”
“I heard it as well,” I said. “Saw something, too.”
“I believe you, folks.” Bill crossed to stand with us on the grass again. “Probably is a snake in there. But it could be hiding. Snakes are shy.” He glanced toward the deputy. “I’ve got a tool pouch in my trunk. Want to go grab my hammer and a few nails? We’ll nail ’er shut to keep anyone from going inside.” He faced us. “You weren’t hurt, were you Ma’am?”
“No,” Ginny said. “Just frightened.”
I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my side. Her trembling had stopped, thankfully. I’d never been more relieved than I was now, knowing she hadn’t been harmed.
The deputy returned with the hammer, and the sheriff secured the door.
“That’ll keep anyone for going in there,” Bill said. He nodded to us. “The game warden will come out and investigate this week. I’ll let you know what she discovers.”
“What if this was someone trying to hurt me?” Ginny asked.
“With a milk snake?”
She blinked. “You don’t think it was a rattler?”
His shrug shifted the star badge on his chest. “I can’t really say what you saw, Ma’am, but I doubt you’ll find a rattlesnake in Maine.”
“But Tom…”
I told the sheriff about Tom’s threat and how he’d wrecked our campsite, only leaving out my confrontation with Tom. Ginny also mentioned a phone call she’d just received in the bathroom.
A phone call, too? My hand tightened on hers.
“Tom Prescott?” Bill’s face tightened. “You sure about that? I worked with him before he left the force. He’s a reasonable guy. If you said you weren’t interested in him, Ma’am, I imagine he listened.”
“He was pretty persistent. He made threats, saying I’d regret turning him down,” Ginny said. “He…scared me.”
The sheriff scratched his head again then replaced my broad-brimmed hat. “Well, I believe you about that, Ma’am.” His gaze slid away. “You need to know that Tom’s had a tough time lately which could make him act a bit out of character. Tell you what. I’ll talk to him. Make it clear he’s to leave you alone.”
Talk to him. It was doubtful the sheriff would talk to Tom in the same manner I had. But at least law enforcement was involved. Maybe being questioned would make Tom back off, because this situation had gone on long enough.
“I appreciate it,” Ginny said. “Another thing. This morning while I was swimming, someone almost ran me over with their boat.” She explained further.
“Ah.” Bill held up his hand. “I know exactly what went on there.”
“You do?” I asked. This man had an answer for everything. How could he know what happened here today? But then, this day had been one surprise after another.
“We got a bunch of calls earlier about someone going like a bat out of hell on the lake,” Deputy Franks said, rocking back on her heels. “Caught the guy, too. Drunker than a skunk.”
“He’ll get a DUI for that.” Bill shifted his hips, thum
bs hooked on his belt. “You might’ve been the first he almost ran over, but you sure weren’t the last. Ass—jerk, that is, almost ran over a couple kids near the shore. I’ll add your name to the list of complaints if you want.”
“I appreciate it.” Ginny lifted a half smile my way, her face fully loosening. Just knowing she was less frightened relaxed my own joints. She linked her fingers through mine. “It looks like there’s a good explanation for everything.”
Maybe.
And maybe not.
17
Ginny
With the fire in front of us, I positioned our chairs to give us the best view of the upcoming fireworks display over the lake. We grabbed a couple of beers from the cooler to sip while we watched.
I’d contemplated packing up and leaving. Yet, everything that happened seemed to have been explained away. And what would I do if we went into town? Suggest Cooper stay at my place? I’d love to have him sleep over, but it might be pushing things too far. Our relationship was new. Fragile. My heart wasn’t ready to test it. Tomorrow would be soon enough for that. Greedy of me, but I wanted more time with Cooper in a neutral setting.
We could keep each other safe for one night.
Leaning forward, I tossed more wood onto the fire. Hissing white ribbons slithered along the damp branches and steam rose, feeding moisture to the clouds for the next storm.
“You said you did an electrical program with the military?” I asked Cooper.
“Yep.” He took a long drink of his beer then followed the beads of sweat running down the sides of the bottle with his finger.
“Does that mean you’re a master electrician?”
He shrugged. “The military doesn’t give out the same licensing as the public sector. Sure, I have hours I could use—will use, I guess—when I get out in eight years. But I’ll still need college classes and tests to get a master’s license.”
“You’re sticking it out for the full twenty years?”
“I’m over the hump. I’d be foolish to throw away the retirement I’ll get at twenty. At my paygrade, it’s substantial.”
Eight more years. Stationed in California, while I’d remain here in Maine.