by Chris Eboch
I sighed. That sounded practical, but I didn’t feel practical. I didn’t want to back away. How could he? I swallowed and forced myself to speak. “Are you backing off because of what happened to me?”
“You mean the attack? Partly. But that’s only one reason I want to take my time with you. You’re special, Kylie. This is special. We don’t need to rush.”
I looked up into his face, saw the way his eyes caressed me, the way his lips curved in a smile that left me weak with desire and strong with joy. I felt something shift in my heart as a lock I hadn’t even known was there broke open, and suddenly I had more room to let him in. But he was right—this was too important to rush. I smiled back at him. “So what are you doing tomorrow night?”
“I don’t care, so long as I can do it with you.”
I laughed and rose up onto my toes, squeezing him tight. “Then I guess I can let you go tonight.”
“I’ll drive you to the campground. Unless you’d rather sleep on the sofa in the office.”
I eased back from him. “No. The campground is fine, and I can walk. You go ahead and check on Jerry and get out of here before the road gets muddy.”
“I can walk over with you.”
I kissed the corner of his mouth. “And we both know that will delay you a lot longer than the time it takes to walk. We’d better say goodbye now, or I won’t want to say goodbye at all.”
He cupped my cheek in his hand, warming my chilled skin. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone. When he dropped his hand, I could still feel the heat. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “Come by for coffee?”
“Absolutely.” My body still yearned for him, straining forward without conscious thought, but I knew a step back was a good idea. We had time to get to know each other, to explore each other slowly. Maybe someday I’d want to make wild love on a truck tailgate with the rain pouring down—maybe my body wanted that now—but I knew that for this first time I needed to feel safe and comfortable. Danesh was right. We didn’t need to rush.
We kissed again, slowly, tenderly, full of promise. The sizzle of sexual desire eased to a languid comfort, my limbs and eyelids heavy, so I just wanted to snuggle up and go to sleep. His hand stroked my back, and I almost purred.
Finally we stepped back. He glanced at the path through the woods. “You’re sure—”
I laughed. “I’m a big girl, remember? And I’ll be insulted if you act like it’s safe for you and not for me. My eyes have adjusted to the dark. I think I’ll walk along the rim trail, though, where it’s more open. Then I’ll have the lights at the campground to show the way in.”
“All right. Be safe. Goodnight.”
I smiled and waved as I headed for the canyon rim. The breeze whipped my hair around and danced over my skin, raising goosebumps, but it wasn’t really that cold. A drop of rain hit my forehead and another hit my arm. Maybe I would have that chance to dance on the cliff top in a storm after all. Wouldn’t that be something to tell Danesh in the morning?
I stopped at the canyon rim. The wind murmured in the trees behind me and made a low whistle as it rushed past the walls of the nearest ruin. The sky was almost completely dark now, just the faintest hint of red on the horizon glowing against black clouds above. I could barely see the looming silhouette of the ruined walls, mysterious and slightly threatening.
I tossed my hair back out of my face and grinned into the breeze. I wanted to see this place at all times of year, in all weather. I wanted to explore its secrets.
I wanted to belong.
“I could be happy here,” I whispered. Danesh was part of that, part of the possibilities, but that wasn’t all. I had been drawn into this world, and I wanted to stay. I was glad I had trusted the instinct that had me exploring job possibilities before I even visited.
I walked slowly along the rim path, feeling part of something larger than myself. The air smelled spicy and alive. The trees rustled and shuddered on my left; the canyon dropped away on my right, a black pit. A jagged shape loomed up, a deeper black against the darkness. Another one of the ruins—Stronghold House, the one crouched atop a huge boulder just inside the canyon rim. As I walked closer, I remembered the crevasse that separated the boulder from the rim trail. I’d have to watch my step, not get fooled into thinking the trail went closer to the ruin.
A light flickered ahead. I stopped and shook my head, wondering if staring so hard had affected my vision. I squinted and saw nothing. Just my imagination? Or somebody else out on this wild night—someone smart enough to bring a flashlight?
Where had he or she gone, then? Maybe the person had stepped into the trees or was farther down the trail and had passed behind another ruin. I waited a moment but saw nothing.
I shrugged and walked forward. Why shouldn’t someone else be out enjoying the night, as I was? Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling a bit crazy.
Drops of rain splattered my skin in fours and fives now. Unless I really was going to dance in the rain, I should get back to my tent.
Voices whispered on the breeze. I paused, listening. Just the wind, surely—but such a human sound.
So what if it was human? Maybe two people had come out with a flashlight to see the canyon at night. I had no reason to worry. I tried to ignore the prickles along my skin, blaming them on the chill breeze. The voices came again, faint and ghostly. I wouldn’t have minded the whispers so much if I could see someone, but the vague sounds were unnerving. Like someone was hiding.
I shook my head. That was just my own paranoia. Rapists might choose secluded areas for their attacks, but not this secluded. You wouldn’t set up an ambush where you might not see anyone pass by all night. If people were out, they were probably ghost hunters or New Age spiritualists or storm lovers. I should find them and make sure they weren’t planning to go into the canyon.
I strained my ears but heard nothing but the wind. I took a few more steps, squinting into the darkness. Shapes were flat and blurred in the drizzle, without edges or depth. I shivered and wished I had a sweatshirt, or at least jeans and real shoes.
My backpack—I’d left it in Danesh’s truck. I paused, half turned back. I hadn’t heard his truck leave, though I might not with the wind. I could go back for my pack and mention that I thought someone was in or near the canyon. It was really his responsibility, not mine.
I imagined myself explaining. “I thought I saw a light and heard voices, but then I didn’t.” Would he think it was some ploy, playing the damsel in distress? Would it add an awkward epilogue to an evening that had ended so well? Would I get over there to find Danesh and Jerry gone and just have to walk back on my own again?
I stood on the path, hugging myself for warmth as the cold wind blew past my bare legs. Go forward, go back, run for my campsite? I took a deep breath and blew it out. Why had I gotten so indecisive?
Forget the question. I knew why. But if I didn’t want to be a victim, I had to stop acting like one. I couldn’t go running for help or hiding in my bed every time something freaked me out a little. I couldn’t give men all the power, the power to scare me and the power to protect me. Both made me weak.
It was just a tourist out at night, no monster or ghost or alien. No rapist lurking in the bushes in the off chance I’d wander by. I would investigate, deal with the situation should there be any need to do so, get help if I couldn’t handle it alone, and then go make myself a hot drink before bed. I refused to be scared away from a place I enjoyed, a place I wanted to work and tour.
“Pull up your big-girl panties and deal,” I muttered.
I walked forward. A sudden break in the clouds let the moon shine through. Falling House seemed to jump out of the darkness, a jagged silhouette of broken walls dark against ghostly clouds.
And then I saw something else—a wooden board, like a bridge, set across the gap between the canyon rim and the base of the ruins.
Chapter 19
I stared at the board, wondering why on earth somebody would put it there
. To get to the ruin, obviously, but why? Who would be out exploring the ruins on a night like this? Granted, they’d be less likely to be caught after hours, with the staff gone—
And then I remembered Jerry. Surely his unexpected presence and the board’s were too much to be coincidence. Maybe he’d received a last-minute report of some kind of damage. Maybe he’d gone home on time and then been called back here by some complaint from Robert. Or maybe someone had requested special permission to go out for sunset photos and Jerry had arranged it.
I put a hand over my mouth to cover a giggle. Or maybe Jerry and Maureen had come out here for some hanky panky in a romantic, if peculiar, new location.
And Danesh would be waiting at the visitors center and wondering what had happened to Jerry.
I hesitated again. Go tell Danesh what I suspected? He’d probably want to come see for himself. If it was Jerry and Maureen, we didn’t need to disturb them, but if it wasn’t... well, it would be better to be sure.
I turned toward the visitors center and then swore. Why did I have this instinctive reaction to turn to a man for help? Danesh would probably like it, but that wasn’t a pattern I wanted to start. I was a perfectly capable, grown woman. I was tired of living in fear and letting men control my actions, one way or another. I could quietly take a look on my own. I wouldn’t try to tackle a gang of rock thieves single-handedly, but I could at least look before panicking and running for help.
I put a foot cautiously on the board. I’d just sneak across and listen long enough to confirm my suspicions. I really did not want to hear, let alone see, anything explicit between Jerry and Maureen, but I didn’t see a better answer.
The board seemed sturdy enough, and obviously if it had held Jerry’s weight, it would hold mine. I took another cautious step out. Just a few more to go.
The moonlight vanished like a light going out. I froze, my arms out to the sides. With no visual frame of reference, I had a sudden sense of vertigo and swayed. I bit my lip and concentrated on the feel of the board beneath my feet. I was almost thankful for the thin sandals that let me feel the board’s slight curve from my weight.
I knew two or three more steps would get me across. It didn’t make sense to stand here balanced over this chasm and wait for the moonlight to come back. Turning around or backing up would be even more dangerous. I had to keep going forward.
My back foot rasped against the wood as I slid it forward. When I had it firmly planted in front of me, I moved my other foot. Three more steps and I felt my foot slide over the end of the board so my toes touched rocky ground. I edged forward, resisting the urge to hurry—I didn’t want to knock the board out of place by jumping off it.
A fine layer of grit crunched under my sandals as I stepped onto the boulder. I held my hands out in front of me, and finally my fingers touched the rock wall. I blew out a breath as my heart pounded. This evening was certainly having its ups and downs.
As my nerves settled, I realized I could hear voices. A man’s voice, I thought, and then—another man? I couldn’t catch the words, but one voice sounded vaguely familiar. Not Jerry and Maureen, then, but maybe Jerry here with someone else?
I hesitated again, afraid to interrupt when I didn’t know what was happening. But I still needed to confirm that Jerry was here and nothing was wrong. I’d come too far to turn back now. It would be easy enough to hide in the dark, so I wouldn’t let them see me until I knew for sure who it was.
I’d never been inside these ruins, but I knew Falling House had been an apartment building with many rooms. The men must not be in the first room, or I’d be able to hear them better. I brushed my hand lightly along the wall.
I remembered how low the doorways were and dropped my hand lower on the wall. When I found empty space, I crouched at the doorway, peeked through, and saw absolutely nothing.
I slipped into the room, probing with each foot so I didn’t kick fallen blocks. The ruins had no roof, and the walls had crumbled in various states of decay. If someone shone a light from another room, they might be able to see me. But the night stayed black.
I found another opening and gently felt to make sure it was a doorway and not just a spot where the wall had crumbled. When I was sure, I crouched and shuffled through, wishing again I had jeans, so I could kneel. Light flashed and I jerked back. Fortunately the wind covered my quick intake of breath. The light came from the room next to this one. Someone had a penlight, and as they moved slightly, it spilled through a wide crack between the two rooms.
I edged closer, confident that if I stayed to the side they wouldn’t be able to see me even if they turned the light in my direction. When I got close enough I peered through the crack.
The penlight shone at the ground, but the light spilled enough to show the bodies of two men hovering over it. No, three men—one crouched and holding the light, one leaning against the wall, and one standing, speaking and gesturing with his hands. Even in the dark I recognized his voice and the way he moved.
Not Jerry. Sean.
“Can we go now?” Sean said. “I’ve got business to finish.”
The man by the wall said, “I know, we were late, you’ve told us. It’s not easy crossing the desert and then finding your hiding spot, and we lost that stupid map stumbling around in the dark the other night. If you want my opinion, you’re trying to be too clever. You get a kick out of meeting here because it’s weird. We’d be better off at some random spot in the middle of nowhere, or even in a crowded city where no one would pay attention to strangers. You’re not impressing anyone.”
“All right, all right,” Sean said. “Let’s not argue. You’re here, you got the money, now let’s go.”
The crouching man said, “Fine. This run has taken far too long.”
I stretched up enough to see that his penlight was shining down into a briefcase filled with stacks of cash. If anyone had looked my way then, they probably would have seen the whites of my eyes as I stared. It was like flipping through TV channels and coming across an old gangster film right in the middle. My mind scrambled to make sense of it all.
“I had to make sure the stuff was good,” Sean said. “Last time your boss tried to cheat me.”
“Whatever.” The crouching man stood. “Let’s get out of here. Next time keep it simple. No games, or we’re through.”
He turned and the light turned with him. I jerked back, tremors skittering over my skin. I still wasn’t sure what I’d stumbled across, but I knew I shouldn’t let them find me here.
No way could I get back through the first room and out of sight in time. Already I could hear them muttering in the next room, slowed only by the challenge of getting three people through safely with one small light.
My instincts screamed danger, and this time I listened. I dropped to the ground in the corner and curled in a ball, trying to hide my bare arms and legs under my body. I shook my head so my hair fell over my face and neck and I squeezed my eyes shut tight, as if that would matter with my face buried. At least my dress was black and my hair dark brown.
Pebbles pressed into my bare skin, and the damp earth felt cold and sticky. A fallen block jabbed my rib cage. I tried not to breathe as faint footsteps and the rustle of clothes moved past me. I thought I heard a tap of footsteps on wood. A scraping sound. Then nothing but silence.
I started to breathe again, slow, controlled breaths that still sounded too loud to my ears.
I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I had this horrible feeling that somebody was standing over me, waiting. Logically I knew that if someone had spotted me, hiding wouldn’t make him go away now, but still I had to force myself to lift my head and open my eyes.
I saw only darkness.
I sighed, and the trembling started. I still hadn’t quite processed what was happening, but whatever those men were up to, they wanted to keep it a secret. I huddled, hugging my legs, and tried to put the pieces together. Sean was trading money for something else. I remembered the plane flying ove
r and the news report of a possible drug drop. Could I really have stumbled into that? And Sean was involved up to his eyeballs.
I remembered his questions about where I’d be working and his warnings about staying away from the canyon at night. Now I knew why he hadn’t come back to me in an hour. The whole plan had been to get me away from the canyon that evening. He knew I was keeping an eye on things, and he wanted to get me out of the way. The old saying was true—just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t out to get you.
What an idiot I’d been not to see it sooner. Though really, who would expect to get drawn into such a thing? Here, of all places? Maybe I had decided that Sean was odd, but a drug runner? That hadn’t occurred to me. Maybe because I was too wrapped up in myself to guess that his manipulations really weren’t about me at all. Or maybe just because “Things like that don’t happen to people like me.”
Well, it had happened now, and I had to get out of there and notify the police. I was still trembling, but I forced myself to move. I had to get to the visitors center and hope Danesh hadn’t left yet. If he had, I needed to get into the building so I could use the phone—wait, was the key in my backpack? Damn. I might have to drive somewhere where I could get cell reception.
I made my way through the next room and outside. It was still too dark to see, so I crawled forward and felt with my hands for the board.
It was gone.
Chapter 20
Of course the board was gone. They wouldn’t leave it behind. They should have taken it with them when they went inside the ruins, so no passersby would notice it, but they’d sounded impatient, and of course they hadn’t been expecting passersby at night in the rain.
A large raindrop hit the tip of my nose. I hadn’t been paying attention to the slight drizzle, but now my predicament sank in. I was stuck on this boulder in the dark, wearing a dress and sandals, with cold wind blowing and rain falling. I might survive the night like this, but I certainly wouldn’t enjoy it.