She could feel him looking at her, sense his sudden stillness. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “It just doesn’t feel the same tonight as it did last night.” She reached for the door of the clinic with relief. Even though the terror was gone, the woods still made her uncomfortable. “Maybe I was so scared because I was picking up on whatever or whoever was watching me. And maybe I’m not so scared tonight because they’re not in the woods.”
“Maybe.” He slanted her a glance as she turned on the light in the reception area. “And maybe he’s not in the woods because he’s here in the clinic with you.”
Her heart contracted with terror, then she realized he was referring to himself. Slowly she turned to him. “You already told me it wasn’t you,” she whispered. “Were you telling the truth?”
“What do you think?” His voice echoed off the walls of the deserted building.
As she stared at him, she realized she desperately wanted to believe it wasn’t Holt. But she didn’t really know him, didn’t understand the pain that sometimes looked out of his eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her words loud in the silent building. “Tell me, Holt. Tell me it wasn’t you.”
“Would it matter? Would you believe me, Tory?”
The silence stretched between them, slowly hardening into suspicion and doubt. Finally Holt moved away, his eyes flat and unreadable. “I’ll check the clinic. Wait here until I’m finished.”
He disappeared into her office. In a few moments he came back to the reception area. “Nothing’s been disturbed, as far as I can tell.”
She nodded, watching him. She wanted to tell him she didn’t think it was him in the woods, but the words wouldn’t come. A small, ugly kernel of doubt lingered in her mind, making the words stick in her throat. What did she know about this man, after all? He was a stranger to her.
“I’ll check on the animals, then.” She walked around him, passing close enough to feel the energy coiled in his muscles.
“I’ll wait here for you.” She shot him a surprised look, and something flashed in his eyes. “I told you I’d stay until you were finished, and I meant it. Unless you’d rather I didn’t stay?”
Flushing, she shook her head. “No. I’d like you to wait. It shouldn’t take me long.”
A few minutes later, satisfied that her patients would be all right overnight, she turned off the light in the kennel and walked into the waiting room. Holt stood at the window, staring at the woods that surrounded them. When the swinging door whooshed he turned around.
“All set?”
She nodded. “They’re all fine.”
She locked the door behind them and headed for the house. The chilly night air stirred, brushing across her face with icy fingers, and she shivered. Burrowing more deeply into her jacket, she forced herself to concentrate on the tea she would make when she got indoors rather than on the menace that emanated from the trees around her.
“I still think you should move into town.” He spoke abruptly and without looking at her.
Startled, Tory glanced at him. He stared at the woods surrounding them, his back ramrod straight and his hands clenched at his sides. Without looking at her, he added, “There are a couple of women who rent out rooms. I’ll bring you their names.”
They’d reached her front porch. She wrapped one arm around the post that framed the stairs, the cool, solid lumber steadying her. “Thank you, Holt, but I’m staying here. I told you yesterday that even if I wanted to move into town—which I don’t—I couldn’t afford it.”
When he turned to look at her, his eyes were dark and troubled. “That was before you saw someone watching you. Isn’t that enough to change your mind?”
She shook her head. “I can’t leave. This is my home now, and I won’t turn tail and run just because I’m scared.” She wouldn’t run away like she had thirteen years ago. She’d come back to regain control of her life, not surrender it to another bully.
Holt turned from her and scanned the surrounding forest. “Call me if you hear or see anything... anything at all.”
“I called last night, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t call me.” He looked at her, his eyes unfathomable.
“I called the police. Officer Williams was very prompt.”
He stared at her, then said softly, “Call Jack first if it makes you feel better. But then call me.”
Heat flared in her face. “I didn’t mean...”
“It doesn’t matter. Just call me.”
“All right.”
Her whispered words seemed to ease some of the tension in the air. Nodding toward the house, he said, “Do you want me to check the house again before I leave?”
“I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you, though.”
He nodded once more. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tory.”
Without another word he got into his Blazer and drove away. She watched the beam from his headlights bouncing through the pines until it disappeared, then went slowly up the stairs and into the house.
Locking the door behind her, she went into the kitchen and put on the kettle for some tea. As she waited for the water to boil, she looked out the window at the forest that stared back at her. She hadn’t felt this alone in a long time.
True to his word, Holt came out to her house the next night and the one after that. He showed up just as she was closing the clinic, walked her to her house and checked all the rooms before he left. He reappeared a couple of hours later to walk to the clinic with her in the darkness.
The suspicion she couldn’t quite banish from her mind hung over them like dark, ugly clouds. Holt was careful not to touch her or even come too close. He checked her house, walked her to the clinic, then left, leaving her alone with the trees and her own thoughts.
On the third night she was running late, sitting in the office writing up the records for the last patient she’d seen, when the front door opened. Without looking she knew it was Holt. She dropped her pen and walked to the waiting room. He stood looking out the window.
She hadn’t made a sound, but he turned. Something flickered in his eyes as his gaze drifted over her disheveled lab coat, then his expression was carefully blank again. “Take your time. I’m off duty.”
He looked more remote and unreachable than ever. Tell me, a voice inside her wanted to whisper. Tell me it wasn’t you in the woods that night. But she knew he wouldn’t say anything.
“I’ll be finished in a minute. A couple of emergencies came in, but I’m almost done.”
“I’ll check the back while I’m waiting.”
Holt pushed through the swinging doors and disappeared. She looked at the doors for a moment, trying to banish the ball of regret that swelled in her throat. She’d learned the hard way not to trust people. And Holt especially represented everything she feared. Maybe it was better to have this wall between them.
By the time she finished her paperwork, he was back in the reception room. As she shrugged into her coat and turned off the lights, she realized that the sky outside, which had been blue and cloudless at noon, was an ominous steel gray.
When she stepped outside, a cold wind slashed at her coat, whipping it around her legs. The tops of the pine trees were bent over by the force of the wind, and a low moan seemed to rise from the surrounding woods.
“It looks like it’s going to rain,” she said, glancing at Holt. “Don’t worry about coming back tonight. No one would bother us in a storm.”
He looked at her for a moment, then at the trees. “I’ll be back.” His flat voice sounded final.
When they reached her front porch she paused before climbing the stairs, wondering what to say. “Thank you, Holt,” she finally murmured. “I appreciate your coming out here every day.”
He watched her for a moment, his eyes still unreadable. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” he said, turning and walking away.
Even though it wasn’t dark yet, he turned on his he
adlights as he drove out of her driveway. All they did was illuminate the gray gloom that had enveloped the forest, making shadows dart among the trees. Tory retreated into her house and pulled the curtains firmly closed. Holt was gone, and the trees were already calling her name. Maybe if she didn’t look at them, she could ignore their voices.
When the phone rang twenty minutes later she grabbed it with relief. Even dealing with an emergency would be better than sitting here, trying not to think about the forest.
“Hello?”
“Is this the vet?” The voice sounded disembodied, neither male nor female. One part of her brain registered that fact, and the rest went into her professional mode.
“Yes, this is Dr. Falcon. Can I help you?”
“There’s a dog lying by the side of the road about a mile north of your clinic. I think it was hit by a car. I couldn’t catch it.”
“Who is this?”
“It’s not my dog. I thought you would want to help.” The phone clicked in her ear as the receiver was replaced at the other end of the line.
Tory stared at the phone as she replaced it slowly in its cradle. No one lived on the road a mile north of the clinic, but it was possible that a dog from town had strayed out that far. As she wondered what to do, the wind whistled through an ill-fitting window in the kitchen with a lonely, mournful sound.
The sky outside had turned a glowering, gunmetal gray, and dark, heavy clouds scuttled across the sky. Tory knew she didn’t have a choice. It was going to storm, and soon. The thought of a dog lying injured and scared by the side of the road made her grab her coat and car keys. It would only take a few minutes to go out and pick him up.
She ran to the clinic, grabbed her emergency bag then jumped into her car. The sun wasn’t supposed to set for another hour yet, but the sky was already as dark as twilight. Turning on her headlights, she drove slowly down the road, peering into the gloom as she looked for the injured animal.
She drove two miles north, then stopped and turned around. There was no sign of a dog. Driving even more cautiously, she finally spotted what looked like a skid mark on the road and pulled onto the shoulder.
Nothing moved in the semidarkness except the trees, swaying in the wind. She rolled down her window and listened intently. Except for the sighing of the trees, she didn’t hear a thing. The smell of the approaching storm surrounded her, sharp and fresh, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before it began to rain.
After another look revealed nothing but forest, she eased out of the cab of her truck, clutching her keys in one hand. An injured animal would probably have tried to drag itself into the woods. She had to check the bushes that lined the road, then the clearing just beyond them.
The trees that encircled the small clearing seemed to know her as well as the ones around her house and clinic. For a moment she stood still, pressed against the side of the truck, and listened to them moan her name. Then, telling herself firmly not to be a fool, she pushed away from the reassuring bulk of her truck and stepped toward the bushes.
She had only forced herself to take a few steps when the glare of headlights stabbed through the deepening gloom. Without thinking, Tory scrambled into her truck and rolled up her window, then reached with a shaking hand to make sure both doors were locked. The approaching car slowed, then stopped in front of her.
Her hand trembled so badly that it took a moment to shove the key into the ignition. By then, the door of the vehicle in front of her had opened and Holt was striding toward her.
“What are you doing out here?”
Even though she hadn’t opened her window, she heard his voice. Rolling down the window just enough to answer him, she said, “I got a phone call that there was an injured dog out here. I’m trying to find him.”
“It’s going to storm any minute.”
“I know. That’s why I hurried out here. I wanted to find him before the storm hit.”
Holt rested his fingers in the open crack of the window and leaned toward her. “Don’t you know better than to stop on a deserted road in the dark? Or have you forgotten what’s been going on around here?”
“I haven’t forgotten. I didn’t go more than five feet away from my car.”
His hands tightened on her window. She smelled the faint tang of the soap he used as his fingers blanched white only inches from her eyes. “You shouldn’t have gotten out of the car at all. God only knows who could be waiting for you in those woods.”
His words sent a chill swirling through her and made her stomach tighten. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered. “I’m only looking for a dog.”
“Who called you? Did they give you a name, or did you recognize the voice?”
“No,” she admitted. “I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, and when I asked who it was they hung up.”
“Damn it, Tory,” he exploded. “I thought you had more sense than this.”
“A lot of people don’t want to give their name when they report an injured animal,” she protested. “They think that if they do, we’ll assume it’s theirs and make them pay the bills.”
“I doubt whoever was on the phone was worried about being dunned for money.” His voice was grim. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come out here with you.”
“How do I know it wasn’t you on the phone?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and he let go of her window and straightened.
“You don’t. And if I were you I’d leave now, while you still can. I’ll look around and see if I can find any signs of a dog.” His hand hovered lightly on the butt of his gun. “But I don’t expect that I will.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. He towered over her, his uniform dark and menacing in the dim light, and for a moment she was back on a Chicago expressway with another policeman standing over her, his hand resting on his gun.
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to look at him. This was Holt, and she was in Eagle Ridge, Michigan. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean—”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” he cut her off. “Go home. Get away from here. Lock yourself into your house and call Jack Williams to come and sit in front of it until I get there.”
She wanted to tell him she didn’t need Jack Williams, that she didn’t think Holt was the one who’d called her, but the words wouldn’t come out. Every time she tried to say them, the sight of his uniform silenced her.
“Roll up your window, Tory, and drive like hell.” His harsh voice stabbed into her, pricking her with pain. “Go on—”
Suddenly he snapped his head up. When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up his hand for silence. Staring into the darkness that had seeped into the forest, he stood motionless and tense, listening.
“Roll up your windows, lock your doors and start your engine,” he finally whispered. “If you see anything or anyone but me come out of the woods, hit the gas and don’t stop until you’re at the police station in Eagle Ridge. Tell Jack Williams where I am, then wait there. Do not go back to your house.”
Without another word he moved into the woods. After a few steps he disappeared, swallowed by the trees and the darkness.
Chapter 6
Tory clutched the steering wheel of her truck and stared into the woods. The approaching storm had sucked all the light out of the forest, leaving nothing but an impenetrable wall of blackness.
Her hands tightened on the hard vinyl. Holt was in there somewhere, and the gun that hung by his side was a pitiful weapon against the menace that rolled off the trees like a thick fog.
The truck rocked gently in the wind, as if swayed by a giant, invisible hand. The tips of the pines bent closer to the ground, their boughs waving like arms beckoning for her. The familiar edginess that she associated with the trees sliced through her. The forest was a giant magnet, pulling her relentlessly into its heart. Her hand shifted to the door handle before she pulled it back in horror.
What was the matter with her? What was out
there, in the darkness of the forest, that seemed to be able to creep into her mind? She closed her eyes, as if by shutting out the sight of the trees she could take away their power. The truck shifted subtly again, as if someone had bumped it, and her eyes flew open.
There was no one out there in the gloom. No sign of Holt or a dog, no stranger standing next to her truck. She might have been the only living soul for hundreds of miles, alone except for the trees that called her name.
Her hand shaking, she reached for the radio. She needed company, and music would have to do. A rollicking honkytonk song by Joe Diffie blared out of the speakers, and she abruptly switched the radio off. More than company, she needed to be able to listen, to hear if anyone approached her truck.
Another blast of wind made the truck tremble, then two fat raindrops hit the windshield. The next moment the heavens opened and a wall of water crashed down on her. The rain poured out of the sky, so heavy she couldn’t see the front of her truck. She peered out the window, worried about Holt, wondering if anyone was approaching her truck in the driving rain.
A figure appeared suddenly at her door and she jumped, reaching for the gearshift. Before she could jam the truck into gear and drive away, she realized it was Holt. His arms were full of something gray and wet.
When she rolled down the window the rained streamed in, soaking her jacket and face. “What’s that?” she shouted over the wind.
“Your dog.” She could hear the grimness in his voice even over the noise of the storm.
“Is it alive?”
“Barely. I’ll put him in my truck and follow you to the clinic. Don’t get out of your truck until I get there.”
Without another word he disappeared into the darkness. When Tory heard his Blazer start, she eased her truck into gear and pulled onto the road. She strained to see through the gloom and the rain. Why had Holt told her not to get out of her truck until he got to the clinic? Surely the fact that he’d found the dog meant the phone call was legitimate and not a trap to lure her into the woods.
The Dark Side Of The Moon Page 8