“Hmmm.” Reed flattened his lips thoughtfully and gave the storekeeper the undivided attention of those intense green eyes. “We’re not sure. Some kind of bread or cake. It was very grainy and a little burned. These black feathers were stuck in there, too.”
Ellen ripped her gaze off Reed’s eyes and concentrated on the picture. “Crows and ravens are omens to modern Wiccans. Dark omens. To the ancient Celts, a crow or raven foreshadowed death.”
Reed’s face flickered with brief alarm. “What about the bread?”
“I imagine it’s oatcake, or bannock, a traditional celebratory dish. The torc, the cake, and the mistletoe all point toward a Christmas or winter solstice holiday celebration, likely Wicca or Druid. But the crow feathers. I don’t know how they fit in with the rest. Doesn’t make sense. The winter solstice is a time of rebirth, of coming from the darkest day into the light. Crows signify the opposite, darkness, misfortune, bad luck.” Ellen turned her palms up in logical defeat. “Who knows?”
“You don’t see a dark, sinister meaning behind all this?” Reed waved a hand over the photos.
“Look, paganism gets a lot of bad press, but all the term really means is one of the primitive non-Christian religions. There are many different religions within paganism, including Wicca, Druidism, Native American shamanism, and voodoo. Satanism is one very small sect within the large group. Wiccans and Druids are peaceful. Their gods are tied to the natural world. They worship water and forest deities. Celebrate the seasonal changes. It’s all very organic.”
“How about these engravings?” Jayne butted in. Reed shot her an annoyed look. Ellen didn’t spare her a glance, but Jayne insisted. “That looks like a pentagram.”
Ellen’s eyes stayed on Reed as she gave Jayne’s comment an indulgent head-shake-and-sigh combination. “The pentagram also gets a bad rap. It has nothing to do with evil spells. It’s a symbol of protection for Wiccans. The points represent the four natural elements plus one more spiritual one.” She paused. One blue-veined finger traced the repeated spiral pattern. “The spiral is a symbol for power and the natural cycle of the world, for life, death, and rebirth. Mother, maiden, and crone. All of these markings are common for the time. There’s nothing inherently evil about them.” Ellen hesitated. “But the crow feathers…They make me uncomfortable. Did you know that a group of crows is called a murder?”
Reed opened his laptop. “Great. There’s a wireless signal here.”
Jayne’s phone vibrated on the chrome-edged table. She pressed the OK button. Her eyes swept the display.
“Pat says he won’t be here until evening. A bridge washed out in New York State. Big detour.” Jayne set the cell down between their place settings.
Reed turned the computer to face her. He’d have her a few more hours. A heavy ache settled in his chest. He was torn at the prospect of Jayne’s leaving. On one hand, while she was in his sight he was positive she was OK. On the other, there was the strong likelihood she’d be safer in Philadelphia. No promises there, though. The bastard seemed determined to have her. What would keep him from following her back home?
Not a damned thing.
He had no way to keep her safe no matter where she lived. The pressure against the inside of his rib cage amplified. He reached into his pocket for a roll of Tums and popped three into his mouth. Despite his broken promises to his son, Reed wouldn’t, couldn’t stop until he found her tormentor. He doubted he’d sleep again until the guy was caught and Jayne was safe.
“Reed, you OK?”
His response dried up in his tight throat as he chewed the antacids. Ice water didn’t improve the nasty fake mint taste in his mouth. All he managed was a nod as he swallowed his fear along with the chalky wash.
“OK then.” Her eyes lit up like aquamarines in the sunlight. “I’m online. Thanks to our favorite old witch, at least we’ve confirmed my personal weirdo has a fixation on the ancient Celts or Druids or both and is probably planning some sort of ceremony.”
Reed peered over the screen as she two-finger-typed the words Celt, bannock, and mistletoe into a Google search and tapped the Enter key. “What came up?”
Her face creased into a studious frown. “A couple articles on winter solstice ceremonies and some links on bog bodies, whatever they are.”
Reed paused. A memory flickered. “Why does that sound familiar?” He turned the laptop sideways for a better view.
“You’re familiar with bog bodies?” Jayne’s eyes widened.
“I think I saw a documentary on bodies found in peat bogs in Great Britain.” Reed scrolled down the list for a site that looked legit. He glanced up at Jayne’s amused expression. “What? The winter is long and cold up here.”
“If you say so.”
“Aha. I knew it. I saw this on TV.” Reed gave himself a mental head smack. “I guess I just verified my geek status.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Jayne’s hand landed on his shoulder.
Contact with her palm felt solid and right, as if she was what he’d been missing all his life. Reed’s hand moved toward hers, automatically wanting to confirm the physical connection. He stopped the movement halfway. His fingers curled and he lowered his fist to the table. Wrong time. Wrong place. Wrong everything. It wasn’t meant to be.
Hurt flashed in Jayne’s eyes, dropping another brick onto the load on Reed’s chest. But separation was necessary. She needed to get away from Huntsville, at least until this guy was caught. Her safety had to be the top priority. But the pain in her gaze nearly shattered his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and keep her there forever.
He tore his gaze away and turned back to the computer. The screen blurred. Reed squeezed his lids tight for a second to clear his vision, then clicked the link. The computer chugged for a few more seconds before the window opened.
He scanned the article, the details of the TV special flooding back. “There it is. Every once in a while, an ancient body turns up in a peat bog in England or Ireland. The most famous recent one is Lindow Man. Scientists found mistletoe pollen and charred bread in his stomach. Some historians think he was a nobleman sacrificed to ward off the Roman invasion.”
When he looked up at Jayne, sadness had been replaced with stoic determination. Her eyes shifted over his shoulder as the waitress set down their order. Reed’s ham and Swiss on rye didn’t look as appealing as it had sounded five minutes ago.
She turned the laptop around to get a better view of the screen. “Ewww. His skull was crushed, he was strangled, and his throat was cut. Overkill, I think.”
“Apparently, the Celts thought they’d get the favor of three gods if they killed him three times,” Reed said.
“Interesting logic.”
“Efficient anyway. I guess they didn’t want to knock off all the noblemen.”
“What do you think it means?” Jayne yanked the toothpicks out of her club sandwich. “To my kidnapper, I mean.”
“I don’t know. Mrs. Dean said mistletoe and bannock were used in a lot of ceremonies. Could be something as simple as a gift to the object of his obsession.”
“Well that creeps me out just as much.” Jayne picked at her potato chips.
“Me too.”
Reed’s phone buzzed and skittered across the speckled Formica. He flipped it open. The digital readout told him that school was just letting out. “Just Scott reminding me to pick him up at the Youth Center tonight at six. He’s finishing his community service for his college applications.” Reed texted back. R the apps done?
Scott’s answer came back in the blink of an eye. Yeah :)
“They need to get mailed out this week.” Reed crossed mental fingers and set the phone on the table. He tried a bite of the sandwich. Being empty wasn’t going make his stomach feel any better. “I don’t understand why he waits until the last minute for everything.”
Jayne laughed. “At least he’s doin’ it.”
“Good point.” Scott’s college applications w
ere the least of his worries at the moment. A killer was loose in Huntsville. At least his son was safe with the crowd that would be at the Youth Center today. But the ham and rye bread still landed in Reed’s stomach like a cannonball. “Any e-mails from your photo-magical friend?”
Jayne clicked the e-mail icon. “No. Not yet.”
Reed reached up and scratched the tingle riding up the back of his neck. Jayne was with him. She was fine. So why the impending-doom itch? Whatever the reason, he was too twitchy to sit still.
Jayne’s plate was nearly clean.
Reed signaled for the waitress. “Let’s head back.”
The bad feeling stuck with him, and it wasn’t just all this strange Celtic stuff Jayne’s assailant was apparently into. Reed’s gut had been very reliable during his years on the force. No matter how he rearranged the clues in his head, the puzzle wouldn’t take shape. Something was missing. Something vital. Something that meant the difference between life and death.
If only Reed could figure out what it was before it was too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jayne grabbed the armrest as the truck careened into a sharp turn on the outskirts of town. “Where’re we going?”
“We’re going to make a stop at Jed Garrett’s place on the way home.” Reed slowed the Yukon and stopped at a four-way intersection. “I want to show him where I picked you up. If anyone can tell us every landmark in the area, it’s Jed. I don’t know why I didn’t think of Jed before.”
Jayne’s gaze lingered on his chiseled profile. Probably he hadn’t thought to tap Jed as a resource because he’d been busy keeping her alive. And while Jed seemed to be the town’s go-to man for tracking game and other wildernessrelated stuff, no one would sculpt him out of bronze deep in thought.
The bisecting road was clear, but Reed didn’t depress the gas pedal. “Unless Jed was the one who kidnapped you. He lives alone. He’s single. Jed knows his way around the woods. He’s young and strong. But I’m not sure he has the gray matter or the malice to pull all this off.”
Jayne closed her eyes for two seconds, trying to summon up an image of her attacker’s eyes. Her glimpse had been so brief. With her adrenaline roaring like a raging river, she’d barely taken note of blazing blue tightly framed by the black knit of a balaclava. Not enough to ID anybody. Her assailant could be sitting right next to her and she’d never know it. “What color are his eyes?”
“Brown. Right, it wasn’t Jed.” His relief was tangible in the confines of the truck. “Good. I’d hate to think Jed would hurt anyone. And if Jed had taken a shot at you this morning, he wouldn’t have missed.”
That thought should’ve been more comforting than it was.
A mile down the rutted dirt road, Reed pulled off into a gravel parking area. Jed’s cabin sat in the center of a large clearing. Next to the house, half a dozen dogs barked and wagged feathered tails from the runs of their chain-link kennels.
Jed was standing on the porch in jeans and a wool sweater. A yellow Lab sat at his feet. The dog leaned on his legs.
“Hey, Reed. You looking for another dog?” Jed extended a hand.
Reed shook his hand. “No, but if I were, this is where I’d come.” He gave the dog a pat on the head. “Good morning, Honey.”
The dog shuffled forward to sit in front of Jayne with a paw raised. Her tail thumped on the porch floorboards. Jayne sank to her knees and stroked the pale head. Soft brown eyes gazed up at her as she dropped her hand to scratch Honey’s chest.
“I was wondering if you’d do me a big favor, Jed.” Reed’s voice drew her gaze to his face. He might have been talking to Jed, but his eyes were locked on Jayne as her fingers threaded through the dog’s soft fur. Concern shone in his gaze, and warmth settled deep in Jayne’s belly.
“What is it?” Jed’s question broke the spell.
Reed blinked away. “I’d like to show you where I found Jayne and see if you can figure out where she was held.”
“Sure. I got maps inside.” Heavy boots clomped across the porch to the door. He held the door open for them. “Coffee?”
“No, thanks.” Reed stepped aside to let Jayne through first. Their arms brushed, and an empty ache throbbed through her chest. She wanted to lose herself in his arms again, which was a shame, because in a few hours she’d be with her brothers. Tomorrow she’d be back home.
Her time with Reed would be just a memory. Her old life felt as if it belonged to someone else. How could she have changed so much in only a few days?
“I’m good.” Jayne swallowed the emotion thick in her throat as she crossed the threshold. In the middle of Jed’s log cabin’s decor sat a computer desk and a heap of modern electronics. Surprisingly quiet in his thick-soled boots, Jed moved across the wide-planked floor to a filing cabinet and opened a drawer. He selected a map and spread it out on the thick oak kitchen table.
Reed measured the mile markers and tapped a forefinger on the approximate location. “Right about here. What’s within two or three miles?”
Jed rattled off a couple of names Jayne didn’t recognize. “And Aaron McCree’s place is over here.”
Surprise flashed across Reed’s face. “Really?”
Jayne stopped in front of the glass-fronted fireplace. “Who’s Aaron McCree?”
“Nathan’s uncle,” Reed said.
“Aaron has cancer. He’s living with Nathan while he gets chemo, so the place has been empty for a while.” Jed pulled a heavy coat off a wooden peg. “I’m gonna take a ride over and check it out. I’d like to let Nathan know if somebody is squatting in Aaron’s place.”
Reed nodded. “Good idea. We’ll ride along to see if Jayne recognizes the place.”
Unease skimmed up Jayne’s spine on the drive over. In the passenger seat, she picked at her bandages. Reed reached over and grasped her hand, stilling it. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
His palm was warm and solid, tempting her to latch on and never let go. But she didn’t. She lifted her gaze to his face. The fresh burns on his jaw reminded her that he’d already taken enough risks for her safety. She had to stand on her own two feet. No more relying on Reed’s strength to get her through. After tonight, she would likely never see him again. He pulled his hand away as if thinking the same thing.
“I know.” But, along with the skein of sadness, fear wormed its way into her belly. “But if this is the place, it’s going to be creepy to go back into it.”
If Jed’s truck hadn’t been in the lead, they would have missed the narrow private road. The entrance was tucked behind a thick stand of evergreens. The Yukon fishtailed with the turn. The road had been plowed but not scraped down to the base, indicating the road was dirt- or gravel-based.
“Who plowed the road?”
“Good question.” Reed straightened the SUV.
Without the haze of swirling snowflakes, the surrounding woods hardly resembled the nightmarish landscape of her desperate, panic-stricken flight. She scanned the ground ahead of the truck, but no footprints marred the snow’s smooth surface to indicate that she’d run down this road. The storm, and a plow, had erased all evidence of her escape.
The house appeared as they rounded a gentle bend. The square structure hunched against the winter wind in a large cleared area. Gooseflesh rippled up Jayne’s arms. She hugged her torso and waited for Reed to park the SUV next to Jed’s pickup.
Reed glanced down at the odometer in his truck. “You ran almost two miles in that storm.”
Jayne knew it wasn’t athletic conditioning or courage that had gotten her through. Sheer terror had carried her such an incredible distance.
“Does it look familiar?”
“Yeah.” Might as well get this over with. She reached for the door handle, her resolve collapsing like a Jenga tower.
Reed’s voice stopped her movement. “I’m right here with you. OK?”
Words wouldn’t form around the salty lump in her throat. All she could manage was a nod as she jumped
out of the SUV.
Jed walked ahead, scrutinizing the ground. “Somebody’s been here.”
Jayne sucked in a breath of bitter wind. The bite deep in her lungs grounded her. In the approaching dusk, the shadow of the house stretched toward her. Oh, this was the right place. Three stories of malevolence were ready to reach out and touch someone.
Her.
“You OK?” Reed stepped up beside her.
The movement jarred her back from her horrific sense of déjá vu. She shook it off. “I’m fine. Let’s get this done.”
Logically she knew nothing bad was going to happen, but her heart banged against her rib cage as if it wanted out of the crazy body it was trapped in. She approached the door to her prison, the place where she had almost died in a most awful and terrifying way. Her thighs quivered as she paused at the bottom of the porch steps and looked up. Above the porch roof, a large branch had fallen, breaking several windows and ripping away a portion of the gutter like a jagged wound.
Jed tried the door. “Locked. I’ll go round back.”
“Try not to touch anything,” Reed said.
“’Kay.” Jed waved over his shoulder.
Jayne stood back. Her feet were rooted to the shoveled walk. She would not be unhappy if the place was locked up tight. She wasn’t exactly excited to get back in.
Several minutes passed with no sound from Jed. Boots crunching, Reed started around the back of the building. “I’m going to check on Jed. I’ll be right back.”
Jayne had no intention of staying out front alone. Bad things happened to the chicks in horror films when they stayed behind while their boyfriends checked things out. She followed Reed, sticking her sneakers in the trench made by his boots. Moisture invaded, but cold feet were way better than having a masked guy with a machete jump out from behind a tree. “Wait up.”
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