His Garden of Bones

by Vickie McKeehan

  Melina got down two familiar cups from the cabinet and brought one over filled with steaming coffee. Before Skye could pick up the mug, Melina grabbed her in a hug. “We’ll take good care of it, I promise. I love it here. It’s a fantastic place. I know it holds sentimental value for you.”

  It seemed silly not to admit it. “Am I that obvious?”

  “Kind of. But it’s sweet. Your first apartment in the city is always special. I should know, I remember mine.”

  To change the subject and get out of the emotional box she found herself in, Skye asked, “Have you and Hank been married long?”

  “Two years. We were doing fine until he lost his job, then we lost the apartment, and things began to slide downhill. Now, for the first time in a long time, things are looking up. If I have to, I’ll get a job to stay here.”

  “Will it come to that? What would you do with Alec?”

  “There’s Hank’s mom. Since I’m no longer breastfeeding, I could drop him off at the day care center she works at in Renton.”

  Skye laid her hand over Melina’s. “Hank has a good job. Josh says he’s a good worker. The motel project will likely be around through June. So why don’t you relax until after the holidays and reassess your financial needs then. By the way, we’re having a Christmas party on the twenty-fourth. Josh and I want you guys to come.”

  “A night out? That sounds wonderful. I’ll need to get Hank’s mom to sit with Alec.”

  “No need. Bring the baby with you. I’m sure other kids will be there.”

  That night, after spending nine hours cooped up inside an office, Skye dragged Josh out into Seattle’s streets. Four hours into the venture they hadn’t stumbled across anything that looked the least bit sinister so they packed it in early. The ferry got them back to the island in time for bed a little before midnight, a rare occurrence.

  But then, Josh hadn’t been feeling well all day. Several times he’d mentioned he might be coming down with the flu.

  After turning in, he’d conked out next to her. But Skye hadn’t been able to settle down. For something to do, she decided to get up, fix a cup of chamomile tea to help her sleep, maybe play a round or two of Princess Kilda to rid herself of the pent-up frustration she felt.

  Now was a great time to get her first look at the new game Josh had downloaded to her iPad. She’d played the beta version several times on her phone before, but now that it had been released to millions of gamers, her curiosity had taken over. She wanted to see Princess Kilda, the final product, in action.

  The minute her feet hit the floor, Atka was right there next to the bedside table, tail wagging, tongue drooping, wanting her head scratched. Skye obliged but held one finger to her lips for quiet before the dog woke up Josh. The puppy had finally grown into her feet but still had a tendency to knock things aside with her tail.

  With the dog trailing her, she tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen where she grabbed her iPad and a bottle of water. Flopping onto the living room sofa, she waited for the game to load while Atka stretched out, covering her feet like cozy slippers.

  “You go back to sleep,” Skye murmured to the pooch as she keyed in her password for log in.

  Once she got her first look at the main menu, there was no mistaking the similarity to Kilda’s eyes, the deep violet, or the other traits she shared with the heroine—head bobs, style of movement when fighting, instincts and interaction with the bad guys—they were all things Skye recognized in herself. Josh and his team hadn’t missed a trick.

  Skye grinned at his creativity and began to try her hand at the first level. After a series of aimless hunts through trails and forests, she suffered a few defeats before finally getting the hang of all the upgrades Josh’s team had put in before releasing it to the masses.

  Changing weapons to a long broad sword, she faced a string of formidable opponents. Then out of nowhere, three different challengers appeared at once, all trying to blindside her. Surrounded, she managed to dodge and engage the trio of warriors and ninjas in blade to blade combat. Numerous times Skye took Kilda to the edge in each battle before ending the skirmish by annihilating all of Kilda’s enemies as well as their well-defended bases.

  Pleased with her progress, Skye fell into the real-life 3D graphics, an enchanted land that brought out the best of both survival and escape. After an hour or so of taking on higher level enemies, she got more adept at brandishing the magic lasers, and did a better job searching, then uncovering the hidden gems stashed away in the little golden boxes available for more power.

  While the clock ticked toward two a.m. and she became more deeply engrossed in the game, she didn’t notice when Kiya appeared. But Atka did. As soon as the dog detected the wolf’s presence, the malamute stood to attention. It wasn’t until the pup moved next to Kiya at the living room window that Skye glanced up. By this time Kiya was all but getting ready to leap through the plate glass.

  Skye heard the floorboards squeak overhead right before Josh bounded down the stairs two at a time.

  “Someone’s outside,” Josh announced from the entryway, still looking half asleep. “Why didn’t the security system go off?”

  Setting her iPad aside, she met him at the front door as he peered through the peephole. While the canines took up guard next to them, she took her turn after Josh, looking through the little hole onto the porch and to the darkness beyond. “Maybe whoever it is didn’t reach the perimeter yet. Should we flick on the lights and let him know we know that he’s out there snooping around?”

  Josh looked back at the animals. “The crowd’s all here on alert. Don’t let them bark or howl while I go out there and…”

  The piercing look she sent him said it all. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

  He slanted his head in response, sent her a measured stare of equal mulishness. He ticked off the points with one hand. “It’s better if you stay here and keep Atka quiet while Kiya and I track his scent. Atka still wants to chase off into the wild without staying on course. It’s a fact. Two, I have better night vision than you do.”

  At the first hint of annoyance he saw in her eyes he knew he’d hit a raw nerve. “Once again, that’s a fact. It’s not my doing either, it’s just there. And besides, this guy might be trying to draw both of us outside for a reason. We won’t let him do that. One of us needs to…”

  “Okay, okay, when you’re right, you don’t have to drone on about it. Take your phone. Text me with any updates.”

  “Good idea.”

  Before she could get another word out, Josh kissed her on the mouth, opened the front door, and let Kiya dash into the night ahead of the pack. Josh took off in pursuit, speeding into the darkness, running headlong as fast as the wolf. Light as air, with a sliver of moon for a guide, he flew over damp ground, bounded through the verdant hillside. Night sounds hit his ears—the hoot of an owl, a chorus of crickets, a squirrel scrambling up a tree. He got a whiff of ocean, but then skunk fumes mingled with the sweet smell of wild mint. Before he ever left the yard, he spotted a lizard scaling up the bark of a tree.

  He smelled man before he actually heard the rustle of footsteps running through fallen leaves.

  Their visitor was sprinting toward the road. Following the scent, he chased it into the thicket of woods, past down timber and fetid undergrowth.

  Josh heard the sound of a car door open then slam, heard the engine start up. He picked up speed, hustling through a field of scrub. By the time he reached the road all he saw in the misty fog of night were the taillights from a vehicle taking off toward town.

  “Damn. We don’t dare lose him, Kiya.” He should’ve known the wolf had no intentions of giving up at this spot. His link to Kiya kicked in. Man and wolf shared the same mindset, their interwoven, indomitable spirit urging them on. The wolf howled at the slice of moon and tore off in rapid strides into the night.

  It had been a long time since Josh had chased after a car, if ever. But his pack instincts had him doing so now, his feet bare
ly touching the pavement, Kiya in the lead.

  Left alone in the house, it didn’t take long for Skye to become impatient. She skirted each room on the bottom floor as well as upstairs, checking windows and locks with Atka shadowing her every step.

  On high alert, she and the dog stood watch near the door until she decided that wouldn’t do. She went to the study, unlocked the gun safe and took out the loaded Glock pistol Josh had insisted they keep at home. Circling back to the living room, she dug out her nightstick.

  Armed now, she felt better about taking up a position inside the entryway. It didn’t last long though before she got antsy. She wandered into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee but then decided against it.

  She waited, walked each room again listening for any sound outside or inside the old house. But nothing she did got her mind off Josh.

  He’d been gone for more than an hour when she heard footsteps on the front porch.

  Peeping outside, relief welled up when she saw that it was Josh. She opened the door to an out-of-breath runner.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, bent at the waist with his hands resting on his knees to better catch his breath. As soon as he could talk he whooshed out one long string in explanation. “With Kiya’s help I did a perimeter search. We couldn’t peg who was out there, but someone was definitely in the woods lurking around. We followed the scent all the way through town, thought for sure he’d end up at the ferry terminal, easy enough to corner there. Even though I hoped that would be his first mistake—not knowing the ferry doesn’t run this late at night. But no such luck. The trail ended south of town. Whoever it was had a boat stashed somewhere along the banks. That’s my guess, anyway. I’m certain it was our unsub though.”

  The vision he’d had in New York suddenly popped into his brain. The one that had brought him home early. The uneasiness of it had him snaking his arms around Skye. He nuzzled her throat. “I’m sorry I lost him.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t believe you ran all that way to the ferry. That’s gotta be two miles at least.”

  “More like two and a half.”

  “You’re sure he’s off island though, right?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Then let’s head to bed. You must be exhausted. You still look flushed.”

  “I feel like I ran a marathon.”

  They started up the stairs wrapped up in each other.

  “When I came downstairs tonight I saw you were in the middle of playing the game. So, how does it compare to the beta version you tried several weeks back?”

  “Five stars, easy. I understand now why the buzz on the Internet has been so positive. I was so wrapped up in Kilda’s character and capturing all the treasure I lost track of two hours.”

  “Music to a gamer’s ears.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The white wolf had almost caught up with him. He’d barely made it to his car and then on to the thirty footer he’d moored near a private dock in the southern part of the island.

  Dillard Barstow didn’t like close calls.

  Why was it taking so long for the curse to kick in? Was there a reason the spell hadn’t worked?

  Ander had pursued him at a fierce pace and didn’t appear to be weakening. He’d have to repeat the ceremonial ritual.

  It wasn’t easy to carve out the time.

  Five days a week Dillard toiled away at his day job. But the job paid pocket change when compared to what he generally made from his sex trade operation. Since he’d given up his side business—for the most part anyway—he could focus on his weekends. Weekends belonged to the hunt. He could always find time for the hunt.

  Like tonight.

  He’d started his Saturday evening donning his usual disguise. He’d taken his clever use of camouflage and cruised along the dark streets that served the UDub campus, sticking to the neighborhoods he knew best, the ones that had served him so well in the past.

  This time of night—between the hours of nine and midnight—things were just beginning to pop.

  He parked his van a couple streets over using his permit at the same lot where he made regular deliveries to the school. Without fear of a ticket, he hit the pavement and headed to the area known as sorority row.

  If you were persistent enough you could easily snag a coed, drunk and disoriented, coming in from a night of partying and doing her best to find her way back to a dorm room—alone.

  His first choice was always a dahlia with black hair. He didn’t mind the occasional rose if he were in the mood for a redhead. But sometimes he couldn’t afford to be picky. When looking for a perfect flower, he knew he might have to settle for a daisy. As long as the girl had an All-American type body—no sleazy tattoos, no unusual piercings, or fake boobs or damage to skin—he could overlook most other imperfections.

  A gaggle of females passed him, tipsy and boisterous. As usual, he went unnoticed by the women. The snub caused him to toss his shoulders back and persevere. His grandmother had always preached that it took patience to be successful at the hunt. So like any good predator, he bided his time and waited for the best opportunity to strike.

  Surely among these targets he could find his next blossom ready to bloom. After years of perfecting his pursuit, he knew to avoid the girls who traveled in packs. Instead, he focused on lone females.

  But after three hours of tracking several prospects he turned up empty-handed. Unfulfilled, he headed back to the truck. Circling the U District again was the only option. It was on his sixth trip through the streets that he spotted a woman at a nearby supermarket, walking out the double doors to her car. Since the place wasn’t well lit, he shot a quick U-turn for a second look. Taking another pass through the deserted lot to get a better look at the redhead made him realize he might’ve hit the jackpot. A rose, with perfect stems, this young female carried her sacks of groceries out to a well-worn Taurus like a star athlete.

  Her hands laden with bags, she struggled to get the door open. Zeroing in on her every move, he began to think the night held a lot more promise than before.

  The security cameras covering the lot were a problem so he avoided them by staying close to the outer perimeter.

  He chortled with glee when the young woman had trouble starting the engine. Instead of offering to help and risking the capture of his image on surveillance, he drove out the side exit, pulled to the curb, and waited.

  By the time she finally got the old thing to turn over and threw the car into gear, his edginess began to creep in. He closed out the voices by fighting off the panic in his throat. He took several deep breaths to calm himself.

  While dealing with his anxiety, he realized he’d lost sight of the Ford. To catch up, he stepped on the gas. A few minutes later, he caught sight of the car’s exhaust. Heading north, he decided to keep his distance by remaining several car lengths behind.

  Excitement coursed through his veins as he followed the pretty thing to Mercer, a busy residential street smack-dab in the middle of a trendy neighborhood known as Capitol Hill.

  Dillard watched her make a turn onto a side street. When she pulled into a driveway in front of a colonial-style brick, he decided she was worth the investment. Ten or fifteen more minutes of his time wouldn’t matter in the larger picture.

  So he pulled to the curb and turned up the heat in the van. While the hot redhead dashed inside he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. A hundred thoughts flashed through his brain. Reason and logic warred with his urges. She’d be a perfect addition to his garden. He’d put her with his other roses. His pulse quickened thinking about it.

  Just as the anxiety started to ebb, something occurred to him. She hadn’t driven the vehicle into the garage as he’d expected. Which meant if she intended to stay here for any length of time why had she kept the old sedan running?

  Then it came to him. This house wasn’t her final destination. This was a quick stop to pick up something and head somewhere else. Since she’d had trouble
starting the car at the grocery store, she likely didn’t want a repeat of that happening here.

  No point in picking up another trail this late in the game when he already had the very fine rose in his sights. But he might have to alter his methods.

  The holding pattern had him continuing to tap the steering wheel keeping his fingers busy. While his mind raced with possibilities, a series of irrational messages flashed in his head. The voices grew louder. Despite the confusion, his predatory instincts ramped up. His determination spiked.

  Minutes went by before the front door opened again and the woman came out. This time she clutched a bundle to her chest wrapped in a blanket.

  A baby.

  He’d sensed something different about tonight but he’d never dreamed it would include a toddler—a child who could belong to him.

  Lost in that lofty goal, he lost track of time while the mother had strapped the child into a car seat. He completely missed the Taurus backing out of the drive and roaring off. Blinking out of his fugue state, he needed to catch up. He pushed down on the accelerator causing the van to screech down the street. Ahead, he spotted taillights at the stop sign on the corner.

  “Patience,” he muttered, slowing down to a crawl. “Let her get where she’s going. Don’t fuck this up.”

  When the Taurus took off, he stayed put, backing off to give her the necessary space. It wouldn’t do to have her think someone followed her or spot the tail. He kept the van at a slow twenty-five falling behind even farther as they wound their way through the neighborhood.