Night Prey

by Sharon Dunn

  She pressed the accelerator. Craig would have a phone she could use.

  She’d have to risk a possible car accident if she was going to get there before Eddie. The front wheels hit a patch of gravel which acted like a bucket of marbles sending her car into a swerve. Her heart raced even faster as she muscled it back onto the road.

  How much time did she have? If she couldn’t beat the red SUV to the ranch, she would just have to block the road with her car and hope she could reach the sheriff and get him out here before Eddie left. A much riskier solution.

  She turned onto the road that led to Craig’s ranch. No sign of the red vehicle in front of her and nothing in the rearview mirror, either. Strange.

  Concerned, she slowed her car. At the very least, she should see a dust cloud created by his SUV. She checked her phone again—still no service.

  The water tower on Craig Smith’s ranch came into view. She increased her speed until a flash of red in a ravine caused her to slow down. She pulled the Subaru over to a shoulder and braked. Jenna pushed open the door and trotted down the road. She shaded her eyes from the noonday sun and stared into the ravine.

  Nestled in the junipers and boulders was the red car with its tail end pointed uphill. The car had left ruts where it had swerved off the road. She couldn’t see Eddie anywhere. Fearing that he may be hurt and unable to move, she made her way down the hill, moving as fast as the steep incline allowed.

  She slowed. What if this was some kind of trap Eddie had set for her? Maybe he had seen her car. She assessed the area all around her. Except for the boulders and junipers at the bottom of the ravine, the landscape didn’t provide very many hiding places.

  She walked faster again. She’d have to take that chance. She couldn’t leave a hurt man alone in a car regardless of what he had done.

  She trailed a hand along the side of the SUV. The front end of it had smashed against a rock, crumpling the hood. She drew her gaze to the driver’s-side window. Eddie’s head rested against it. He must be unconscious. She tried the door. It had been smashed in such a way that it wouldn’t open.

  Jenna raced around to the passenger side door. It was bent, as well. She darted to the back of the SUV, opened the hatch and crawled through. She scrambled toward the driver’s seat, leary of what she might find.

  “Eddie.” He didn’t stir. She leaned over the front seat. Fresh blood had stained the fabric. A pile of twenty dollar bills had spilled from an envelope and scattered. A coffee cup with the initials E.H. on it surrounded by a strange symbol sat broken on the floor of the car.

  Eddie still didn’t respond. Her fingers shook as she lifted them to his neck. No pulse. Paralysis set in as Jenna struggled for breath, encased in her own rapid heartbeat.

  Eddie was dead.

  She shook her head, fighting not to give in to the inertia that the panic caused.

  She pulled Eddie’s body away from the window. His shirt was soaked in blood. What could he have hit in a car crash that would make him bleed like that?

  Her eye wandered to the smashed windshield. Uneven concentric circles of crushed glass radiated out from a bullet-sized center.

  Jenna backed out of the car as fear spread through her. Eddie had been shot. A million questions raged through her head, but it was hard to think clearly when she realized she had blood on her sleeves.

  The breaking of branches and the crushing of undergrowth sent a new charge of terror through her. She stepped away from the car, her heart racing. The noise grew closer, louder. She was a sitting duck here.

  Jenna leaped behind a boulder just as a cow emerged from the brush. The heifer wandered past her and back into the trees. Jenna whooshed out a breath and bent over.

  She scrambled up the hill, falling twice and scraping her knee. Her shorts were ripped and she had blood on her leg. Her sleeves were stained with Eddie’s blood. Unable to get a deep breath, she leaned against her car.

  She pulled her phone out. Still no signal. She’d have to drive to Craig’s place and call from there. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She lifted her head, staring at the high mountain and buttes that surrounded her. Maybe the shooter hadn’t been close at all. What if Eddie had been shot with a long-range rifle from a high place just like the eagle? The thought that the killer might have been farther away gave her no comfort—with a rifle that powerful, she was still an easy target.

  She couldn’t think straight. She struggled to link one thought to the next one. It felt like her whole body was trembling from shock. Jenna took in a deep, prayer-filled breath and washed the images from her mind. All she had to do was think of the next thing she needed to do and then the next thing after that. She could do that.

  She needed to calm down, so she could get in the car and drive to Craig’s place and call the sheriff. She slipped into her vehicle and flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. She still felt like she was being shaken from the inside. She had just straightened her back when she glanced in the rearview mirror where a cloud of dust was visible. Someone was coming up the road.

  Keith’s breath caught in his throat when he saw Jenna’s blue Subaru pulled off the road. He sped up the truck and turned off onto the first available shoulder. He jumped out and ran the short distance to her car.

  The driver’s-side door opened and Jenna stepped out. There was a look of wildness in her eyes. She was in shock.

  She pointed down the mountain. “Eddie…Eddie’s been shot.”

  That didn’t make any sense. They’d been operating on the assumption that Eddie was the one behind all of this. “Are you sure?”

  “There is a bullet hole through the windshield.” Her voice trembled with distress as she pulled away from him and ran a hand through her long hair.

  First things first. He needed to keep Jenna from descending any further into shock. “Let’s get you lying down.” Gramps had already brought the truck closer.

  Norman King met them halfway. “Jenna, what has happened?”

  “She’s going into shock,” Keith said. “Can you grab that blanket out of the cab, Gramps? She can lie down in the truck bed.”

  The older man ran ahead, grabbed the blanket and brought the tailgate down.

  When they got to the back of the truck, Jenna pulled away. “I don’t need to lie down.”

  Keith cupped her face in his hands. “Listen to me—you are in shock. We need to get blood back to your vital organs. Okay?”

  “You’re the medic.” A little bit of resistance colored her tone.

  He led her to the rear of the truck and helped her crawl in. She lay back; the look of trust in her eyes floored him. Something deeper than friendship was growing between them, a bond that could weather a struggle. He pushed a toolbox across the metal of the bed. “I’m going to elevate your feet.” He hooked his hands under her ankles. He touched the bloody knee. “Got a boo-boo there, huh?”

  “Is that medical jargon?” She laughed. “I did that one.” She glanced again at the blood on her sleeve, which made her shake her head and close her eyes. “But that isn’t my blood.”

  His hand brushed over her temple, pushing her hair away from her face. “Don’t think about it, Jenna.”

  She turned her head to the side.

  “I found this in her car.” Norman handed him a coat. Keith took the coat and laid it over Jenna. It tore him apart to see her so emotionally distraught. If only he had gotten here sooner. “Take some deep breaths.”

  Jenna locked onto Keith’s gaze and breathed in and out.

  She visibly calmed. He spoke to his grandfather who was resting his elbows on the side of the truck bed. “Keep an eye on her. I’ll be right back.”

  Keith glanced up and down the road. A man on a tractor was coming from the direction of Craig’s ranch, but still no sign of the sheriff.

  Keith trotted back toward the accident site. He studied the damage to the windshield of Eddie’s vehicle. It did look like a bullet had gone through the glass. He peered inside the car. Eddie
was slumped against the steering wheel. The glove compartment had been thrown open in the crash. Maybe that was where that money had come from. A broken coffee cup with a strange symbol and the initials E.H. on it indicated that the car may have rolled or at least hit something with substantial impact before coming to rest against the rock.

  When Keith returned, Jenna was sitting in the truck talking to his grandfather. Craig had parked his tractor a ways down the road and was walking toward them. The tractor looked new. Hadn’t Craig said he was strapped for cash?

  Keith grabbed the first aid kit from his truck.

  Craig came beside the truck. “What’s going on here?”

  “Was a guy from out of town named Eddie coming to see you?”

  Craig’s expression darkened. “Why?”

  Keith sauntered toward Jenna and his grandfather. Craig followed, stopping when he saw the wrecked car at the bottom of the ravine. His mouth dropped open.

  “Is that his car?”

  “He had…an accident.” Keith elected not to tell Craig all the details.

  “Is he—” Craig was visibly shaken.

  Keith nodded. “At this point, the road leads directly to your ranch. There is no place to turn off and go anywhere else. Was he coming to see you?”

  “I have never met the guy.” Craig’s tone was clouded with defensiveness.

  Keith was pretty sure Craig was lying. He opened the first aid kit, pulling out disinfectant and a Band-Aid.

  Craig took a step back. “Look, I got work to do.”

  “Sheriff will be here in a minute. This happened on your land. He might want to talk to you.”

  Craig drew his mouth tight. “If he wants to talk to me, I will be waiting at my place.” Craig strode to his tractor.

  Keith shook his head. Something was up with Craig. Why would he bring the tractor out if he was just going to turn it around and take it back to his place…unless he wanted it to look like he had casually happened upon the accident?

  Keith held up the Band-Aid for Jenna to see. “For your boo-boo.” Once Craig was out of earshot, Keith said, “He said he never met Eddie, but I don’t know.”

  Jenna scooted to the edge of the tailgate. “He seemed nervous. I think I remember where I saw Eddie before. He was talking to Craig at the fundraiser.”

  “Really?” Keith squeezed out some disinfectant onto Jenna’s knee.

  “Yeah, they were having a heated discussion.”

  “Wonder what was going on?” Keith gently placed the bandage over her knee. “Better?”

  Her smile shot a burst of heat through him. “Much,” she said. She glanced toward the ravine. “It all feels…so surreal.”

  Combat hadn’t made him immune to the impact of death, but he was probably better equipped to handle it than the average person. He brushed Jenna’s soft cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s never easy.”

  She closed her eyes as if gathering strength from his touch.

  After opening her eyes, she jumped off the tailgate and grabbed her coat. “I thought finding Eddie would answer questions, not create more.”

  The sheriff’s car came into view.

  “We don’t know for sure if Eddie was shot. Let’s wait and see what the sheriff can find out.”

  Jenna crossed her arms. “Maybe we had it wrong. What if Eddie was just one of the hunters?” She stared up the road where Craig’s tractor was still visible. “Someone else must be organizing all of this.”

  It did make sense that a local, someone who knew the area, would be the one dropping the caches and setting things up. He was probably charging the hunters a lot of money. Maybe Keith had not allowed that thought into his awareness because somehow it made it easier if it was an outsider who was doing all this. He hadn’t wanted to believe that one of his neighbors was a criminal of this magnitude.

  Jenna placed her hands on her hips and stared down the ravine. “The sheriff is going to have to get a tow truck out here.”

  Jenna seemed to have recovered from the shock of finding the body. “Are you doing okay?”

  She rubbed her bare arm and let out a shaky sigh. “As much as I can be.” She shivered. “I’ll be all right. I just need a little time.”

  Keith wrapped a protective arm around Jenna. If Eddie had been shot these crimes had gone to a new and frightening level.

  The sheriff stopped his car and walked toward them.

  Jenna brought her car to a stop outside her father’s house. A flutter of anticipation zinged through her. She grabbed the stack of books she had already read that she thought her father might like. It was Sunday. The library was closed. She knew she would catch her father at home after she finished church.

  The events from yesterday still weighed heavily on her. The sheriff had confirmed that Eddie, whose last name was Helms, had been shot, but the shooter was still at large. Yet worship had left her feeling renewed and the thought of reconnecting with her father lightened her step.

  Jenna pushed open the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk. She rapped gently at the door. The windows were open, and she could hear birds chirping and music playing. She knocked again, a little louder. She hadn’t called ahead to let him know she was coming.

  Maybe he was writing with his headphones on and couldn’t hear her. She turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

  “Dad?”

  No one was in the living room. She followed the sound of the music into the kitchen. The laptop was open on the counter. Jenna felt a little twinge of panic. What if her father had had a heart attack? She would never forgive herself for the year of silence if it ended like that.

  She stepped onto the sun porch and breathed a sigh of relief. Her father, with his back to her, was staring out the window. “Dad?”

  He didn’t turn around. She took a few steps toward him.

  He spoke to the window. “I heard from that editor. They don’t want my book.”

  “Oh, Dad, I’m so sorry. There will be other publishers.”

  He turned slowly. Shame clouded his expression. He held a glass in his hand. She recognized the amber liquid.

  Jenna shook her head. Reality hit her like an icy gust of wind. This time was supposed to be different. Why had she let herself become hopeful? Her throat constricted, and her eyes warmed with tears. It was all a lie. People can’t change.

  Jenna turned and ran through the kitchen, out through the living room and back to her car. She fumbled with her keys, wiped her eyes and started the engine. She glanced at the door, thinking that maybe her father would come after her. She gritted her teeth. Why couldn’t she let go of the idea that she could have a relationship with him?

  She peeled out onto the street. Jenna drove for miles on country roads, losing track of where and when she turned. Thoughts charged at her from all directions. Anger and pain mixed together.

  So what if some publisher didn’t want his book? He was just looking for an excuse to drink. He probably wasn’t even being honest about how long he had been sober. Lies, it was all lies.

  She drove back to the center. She rested her head against the back of the car seat. She had no more tears left and no strength. She gripped the wheel. Why had she opened her heart to Keith? He was just like her father. It was probably just a matter of time before he drank again, too.

  She closed her eyes and let her hands rest at her side. Every time she saw her father on the street, she would feel the pain all over again. Only now it would hurt even more. Keith had made things worse, not better.

  Keith had been pleased to see Jenna’s car pull into the center just ahead of him, but he was surprised when she didn’t get out of the car. Stepping around to the driver’s-side door, he tapped on her window.

  Something about Jenna seemed off to Keith as she rolled down the window. There was a tightness to her features as if she were trying to hide something.

  “What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded hoarse.

  “I was just out driving and thinking after I went t
o early service at church,” he said.

  “What were you thinking about?” He caught a flash of anger in her voice.

  Keith stepped back from her car. Something was definitely bothering her. “I was thinking about Eddie.”

  She opened her car door. He ambled back to his truck which now had a door a different color from the rest of the truck. He grabbed the piece of paper where he’d drawn the symbol he’d seen on Eddie’s coffee cup. The sheriff had taken note of it but didn’t think it was important. Keith hadn’t stopped thinking about the symbol since he had seen it.

  “This has to be a corporate logo or something.”

  She jabbed her finger at the piece of paper. “Didn’t the sheriff say that Eddie’s last name was Helms? The coffee cup has his initials on it—E.H.” Her words were clipped, communicating impatience.

  “Yeah, but what is with the weird symbol?”

  “The sheriff will figure it out.” Jenna pulled the keys for the center out of her purse. “I still have to do rounds with the birds. We don’t have any volunteers come in on Sunday.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  Her posture stiffened. “I can handle it, thanks.”

  Her coldness was confusing. Had he said or done something to upset her? “I want to help.”

  “Suit yourself.” She shoved the key in the lock and twisted. The door swung open. “I just need to make sure there is no drama taking place with any of the birds and that they all have food and water. Everything else is paperwork I have to do on my own.”

  “We start here?” Keith asked, pointing to the birds next to the office.

  She nodded. “Then the flight barn, then the education birds. Pretty simple.” They both reached for the doorknob at the same time. Keith’s hand brushed over hers. She pulled away and offered him an icy stare.

  “Jenna, what is going on?”

  “Nothing is going on. I’m tired and I need to get this work done.” He detected a subtext of hurt beneath her words. No amount of probing on his part would get him a straight answer. Asking her directly just made her more bent out of shape. He wasn’t a mind reader. Whatever was going on, it was her responsibility to tell him.