Preying Game (Decorah Security Series, Book #15): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel

by Rebecca York

“Did he look like a slave?”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t see him clearly. I felt the temperature in the room change and saw flickering.”

  He made a dismissive sound. “I think you’re putting me on.”

  “How could I?”

  “By pretending something’s going on that isn’t.”

  “I’m not pretending anything,” she protested. “And you’re the one who came charging in here because you said you heard me with someone.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t speak.

  A few feet away, she saw Jonah move again. He drew back his foot and kicked out, striking at Hayward’s legs.

  The kidnapper made a squeaking sound. “What was that?”

  “What?”

  He took a step back, torn between anger and fear. “You did something.”

  She spread her hands. “No. How could I?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think this calls for an evaluation of the whole situation.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think we’re going to have to move things along a little faster.”

  “What?”

  “You’re causing problems, and I’m tired of dealing with you.”

  She stared at him in shock as he backed out of the room. The door slammed, and she was alone with the supposed ghost.

  What did he mean by that? Jonah asked.

  Her mouth was so dry she could barely answer. Luckily she didn’t have to speak to say, I guess he means we’re going to have the hunt—soon.

  Chapter 10

  Shit.

  Jonah stared from Alice to the closed door and back again. He’d known she was in serious trouble. He hadn’t realized the living hell of her situation until he’d seen her captor in action.

  Fury consumed him. He wanted to stride across the room to Alice and wrap his arms protectively around her. That would only be temporary comfort, but maybe the bastard had given him an opportunity.

  Be right back, he shouted in his mind as he pushed through the door, watching the man’s rigid back as he stomped down the hall.

  Jonah ran after him. When he caught up, he aimed a kick at the guy’s ass.

  Hayward cried out and whirled, looking wildly around. He seemed to focus on Jonah, and he gasped. For a charged moment, the two men might have been staring at each other. Then Hayward shook his head, and his gaze flicked away. Before the man could turn around, Jonah kicked him in the shin.

  “Jesus,” he howled.

  “You miserable coward,” Jonah shouted. “You’re afraid to pick on someone your own size, so you have to bully a girl.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” Hayward bellowed.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Had the man actually heard that? Jonah couldn’t be sure.

  Hayward pointed the gun at Jonah.

  “Go ahead.”

  For a moment Jonah thought he was going to shoot. Then he seemed to pull himself together. Turning, he walked down the hall, his shoulders rigid. When he reached the stairs, Jonah stayed close.

  Hayward unlocked the door and stepped through.

  A few minutes ago Jonah hadn’t been able to get out of the basement. To his relief, he could step through after the kidnapper. It seemed he had established a strong enough connection with the man to follow him. Unwilling to lose that advantage, Jonah stuck with the owner of the house as he walked to the floor above.

  Hoping against hope that this would give him the information he needed, Jonah kept pace, although he wasn’t sure why he could do it. They walked into a formal dining room furnished in an antique style. But instead of having one large table in the middle, it was divided into two separate areas by a mesh grill. Each side of the grill had a square table, one about the size of a card table and the other a little larger. It was the room Alice had described. Jonah saw that between the heavy drapes, the windows were covered with sheets of wood.

  The owner of the house stepped through a gate at the left side of the grill, then exited into a butler’s pantry which led to a large kitchen. It was mansion sized, but it looked like it hadn’t been remodeled since the fifties. The top of the white refrigerator was rounded. The stove was an outdated electric model, the countertop looked like marble laminate, and the cabinets were white metal.

  Hayward opened one and pulled out a bottle of vintage Scotch and a glass. He poured himself a generous draft of the amber liquid and downed it in a couple of swallows. Then he stood, breathing hard.

  Jonah studied the killer’s pinched expression. The guy was seriously spooked by his encounter with the ghost. Hopefully that was good. But now Jonah knew it was also very dangerous for Alice.

  Desperate for more information, Jonah looked around the kitchen. In one corner he saw a calendar tacked to the wall. He tried to get closer, but he couldn’t move far from Hayward.

  Squinting, he struggled to make out details. He could see the month, but not the year. Then his heart clunked when he read the words Carvertown Business Association.

  Carvertown. That was on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. Wasn’t Rouse College there?

  My God, could this be the location where Alice was being held?

  It was almost too good to be true. Yet why else would Alice’s captor have the calendar on his wall. Once again, Jonah tried to step away from the man so that he could go exploring on his own, but when he got more than a few feet, he felt his hold on the scene slipping as it had before.

  With a silent curse, he went back, hovering over Hayward. The bastard put the empty glass down with a thunk on the counter, then walked toward another door. Jonah shadowed him, praying he wasn’t going to evaporate before he found out what he needed to know.

  Gray light was coming through the window, and Jonah realized he’d been here all night.

  Hayward walked down a short hall and into a library with a comfortable leather sofa and chairs grouped around a fireplace and shelves of books on two sides of the room. On a stand by the desk was a rack with pipes.

  Behind the desk was a gun cabinet with a collection of hunting rifles.

  Jonah drew in a quick breath. Maybe the guy practiced on deer, but he’d made it clear they wasn’t his prey this time.

  Hayward opened the cabinet, took out one of the weapons and examined it, testing the action. Then he put it back with a satisfied look on his face. Jonah wanted to smack him in the mouth, but thought it wouldn’t be a good idea now.

  Instead, he dragged his eyes away from the sick bastard and looked toward the windows.

  Unlike in the dining room, there was a view outside, and in the early morning light, Jonah saw a spacious green lawn and a formal garden with many paths and hedges. In one direction was a woods and in the other was a river. In the middle of the water was a rock formation that looked like an enormous upside down boot.

  “Bingo,” he muttered as he stared at it. There couldn’t be another boulder like that in the area, could there?

  He wanted to rush back downstairs and give Alice the good news that he thought he knew where to find her. But when he tried to move away from Hayward, he had the same problem as before. He was glued to the man.

  “Shit.”

  Alice. Alice, can you hear me? He tried to call to her, but there was no answer. He could only think that too much had happened for them to connect now. Again he cursed.

  He wanted to stay here until he could reach her. Maybe Hayward would even go downstairs again, and Jonah could follow. But he knew that hanging around would be dangerous. The hunt could be only hours away. He had to get back to Decorah, make sure he knew where this place was, and plan the rescue mission.

  Yet when he tried to send his mind back to where he lay in his bed, he couldn’t move.

  Clenching his fists, he put more effort into tearing himself away. Nothing changed.

  He wanted to scream in frustration. Instead he closed his eyes, blotting out the scene around him, imagining himself back in his bed. Every
fiber of his being clenched as he tried to break away. Eons passed, and he knew he hadn’t moved.

  “Come on, come on,” he railed, straining against the invisible bonds that held him here.

  He might have given up and relaxed for a few minutes, but getting back was too important. Finally, finally it worked, and he felt like he’d been caught in a strong wind.

  It swept him away, and he landed with a thump on his bed, gasping for breath.

  Sweat poured off his body. When he tried to get up, his head spun. Although he wanted to rush to the laptop sitting on his desk, he knew he had to give himself a few minutes.

  He pressed the back of his head into the pillow, struggling to control his breathing. When he couldn’t wait any longer, he pushed himself up and lurched across the room, grasping the back of the chair when he reached the desk.

  Still shaky he lowered himself to the seat. He wanted to stagger to the bathroom and get a drink of water, but this was more important.

  He got into Google and called up information on the Carver River. It had several unusual rock formations, and a famous one shaped like an upside down boot was at a bend of the river. The photographs were of the rock he’d seen. But the only Google Earth pictures were blurred satellite images. There were no “street scenes” along the river.

  He glanced at his watch. Although it was only 6:30 in the morning, this could be the day of the hunt, judging from what Hayward had said. Well, more likely the night of the hunt, when the bastard would have the cover of darkness.

  It would get dark around 6:30pm. That gave Jonah all day to organize a rescue operation and get down there.

  Knowing he’d be waking Grant, he called the other Decorah agent.

  “What’s up?” his friend asked, sounding remarkably alert.

  “I think I’ve pinpointed Alice’s location.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Carvertown. At a big estate on the Carver River.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I managed to get to the place—like you did when you got to Jenny. Then I was able to follow the guy named Hayward upstairs. First I saw a calendar from the Carvertown Business Association in the kitchen. Then I looked out the window and saw the river and a distinctive rock. When I Googled that, I could see where the estate was on the river. I tried to get back to Alice and tell her, but I couldn’t do it. And after that, I had a hell of a time even getting back here.” He stopped and took a breath before starting again.

  “I want to plan a rescue mission, but I also want to verify the location as soon as possible. Hayward, the guy who is holding her captive was pretty angry. I think he could be moving up his hunt to tonight.”

  “Okay, got it.”

  “How soon can you meet me at the helo pad?”

  “I can be there in half an hour. But won’t Hayward wonder why somebody’s flying over? Wouldn’t a drone be better?”

  “We’ll make it quick. I want to see it for myself.” He heard the urgency in his own voice.

  “You’re sure of the location?”

  “No. But I’m sure that rock will clue me in when we get to the river.” He wanted to shout at his friend to stop asking questions, but he knew they were legitimate.

  When Grant finally said, “Okay,” Jonah breathed out a sigh.

  Thankful that his friend hadn’t put up any objections, Jonah dressed in record time and was at the Decorah helipad ten minutes early.

  Both men were rated for flying the machine, but Jonah told Grant to climb in the pilot’s seat because he wanted to pay attention to the location.

  Jonah showed Grant a picture of the rock he’d downloaded. Then, using the GPS, they plotted a course.

  After they crossed the Chesapeake Bay, Jonah kept his gaze trained out the window.

  “There’s the river,” he told Grant as they approached Carvertown.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Follow it until we see the rock.”

  They flew along the river, with Jonah glued to the window. Finally he spotted the formation in the distance. Grant saw it too and headed straight for it.

  Jonah could see the estate along the left-hand bank. But something was wrong. He blinked as he studied the house.

  The hairs on the back of his neck prickled when he saw it was a blackened, burned-out hulk.

  Chapter 11

  “We’re too late,” Jonah gasped, feeling his heart turn over as he stared down. “He burned the place.”

  As he dug his nails into the edge of his seat, he saw Grant follow his gaze, then bank and circle. He came down for a landing near the house and a sign that said, “No Trespassing. Danger. Keep Out.” Jonah scrambled out and ran toward the ruined building.

  Grant cut the engine and followed.

  Jonah struggled to stop himself from howling as he stared at the burned structure. Examining the contours of the building, he could make out a wing below ground, where he saw a room big enough to be a gym. Leading to it must be the corridor with Alice’s cell. In the other direction was the stairway to the main part of the house. He thought he saw the dining room, then the kitchen.

  “My God, what happened?” he gasped out.

  “You’re sure this is the right place?” Grant asked.

  Jonah’s mouth was so parched he could hardly speak, but he managed to say, “It’s the layout.”

  Grant cleared his throat. “But this isn’t a new fire.”

  “What?”

  “You’re saying you left this morning. This place was burned a long time ago.”

  Jonah tried to drag air into his lungs as he struggled to digest what his friend was saying. “A long time ago,” he repeated.

  Grant gestured toward the faded sign. “That’s not new either.”

  “Jesus,” was all Jonah could say as he tried to cope with what he was seeing and what it meant.

  “Let’s go back to how Alice contacted you,” Grant said in a steady voice.

  “On the radio of the 1955 Chevy I was restoring.”

  “Yeah.” His friend let that hang in the air between them.

  “1955,” Jonah repeated, as other details leaped into his mind. The floor in the prison had been vinyl asbestos—a material that was no longer used. The kitchen had looked antique. And then there was the way he’d drawn a blank when he’d tried to find someone named Alice Davenport. It had seemed as if she hadn’t existed. “My God—is it possible—do you think I’ve been communicating with someone who’s in 1955?”

  “Yeah,” Grant answered. Probably only another Decorah agent would have agreed with Jonah’s assessment. But they’d all been through too many weird things to discount what would seem impossible to a layman. Plus, Grant had psychic powers that were similar to Jonah’s.

  The enormity of the realization rolled over him as though he’d been flattened by a steamroller. “Then it’s already too late,” he gasped out.

  “No.”

  “Hayward already hunted and killed her.”

  Grant clasped Jonah by the shoulders and shook him. “You’re not thinking straight,” he bellowed. “You talked to her. Then you told me you went back there. She was alive when you were there.”

  Jonah tried to grasp on to that like a drowning man who had snatched at a log floating by.

  “I’d better ask you—the time of day was the same, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You got there at night, when she was in her cell.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it’s the same time there now. If he’s going to hunt her tonight, you’ve got plenty of time to get there.”

  “I was going to bring a bunch of Decorah agents to screw up Hayward’s plans.”

  “I guess you’re gonna have to do it by yourself,” Grant said.

  “Christ. I wasn’t even there. Not the solid me, I mean. I was like a ghost.”

  “I started out like that when I first got to where Jenny was being held,” Grant said. “If I can do it, you can too.
”

  “Maybe,” Jonah conceded.

  “The first thing we’d better do is consult Frank and get organized.”

  “But you can’t come back with me.”

  “Maybe there’s something we can do.”

  The sound of an engine made them both turn to see a police car coming up the road.

  “Oh shit,” Jonah muttered as he remembered the “No Trespassing” sign.

  A middle-aged cop in a tan uniform got out and walked toward them. His body was going to fat, and he scowled as he looked from the two Decorah agents to the helicopter and back again.

  “This is private property.” His burnished name tag said “Cooper.”

  “Sorry officer.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for a kidnap victim,” Jonah said. “We’re agents with Decorah Security in Beltsville. We’ve both got creds. I’m going to reach into my pocket and get mine.”

  Cooper watched him produce his wallet and flip it open to his Decorah ID card, then nodded.

  “Jonah Ranger?”

  “Yes.”

  “And who are you?” he asked Grant, who also produced his ID

  When they’d verified their identities, the cop said. “We haven’t gotten any word of a kidnapping.”

  “The family is keeping it quiet,” Jonah answered, wondering how big a hole he was digging himself into.

  “Well, as you can see, nobody’s here,” he cop said.

  “Okay, I guess our tip didn’t pan out,” Grant said, then added, “When did this place burn down?”

  “1961.”

  The two Decorah agents exchanged glances.

  “Do you know how the fire started?”

  “No.” Cooper gave them a long look. “Why so many questions?”

  “Because from the tip we got, we expected to find someone living here,” Jonah answered.

  “Well, you got lousy information.”

  “Seems like it.” Jonah cleared his throat, then asked, “And the place had been a burned out shell all this time?”

  “There was some question whether Arthur Hayward died in the fire. Then the Hayward family sued the crap out of each other to get the property. It’s still in litigation.”

  “Anybody ever look for unmarked graves around the estate?” Jonah asked.