by D. K. Hood
She covered her head with the blankets and ignored her pets. This time of the year, when people’s minds turned to Halloween and all the spooky legends around it, everyone including animals were on edge as if waiting for something to happen. Her cat had arrived last Halloween splashed in blood, and the entire week had been consumed with death and destruction. This year the weather had gone bananas and was lighting up the sky with dry storms. She dozed on the edge of sleep, that lovely place where the body relaxes into the warm hug of tranquility, when a noise came from the direction of the porch. Duke shot out from under the bed. Pumpkin spat and hissed, walking sideways along the windowsill, her head turned and eyes slits in the moonlight.
“It’s just the wind.” Jenna patted the side of the bed. “Come here, boy. It’s probably just a branch hitting the steps is all.”
Duke’s growl was deep and menacing. Jenna pushed back the blankets and yawned. “Okay, you win. Come on then, I’ll show you everything is okay. No one can get in here, Duke, we’re safe.”
Thump.
What was that? Suddenly wide awake, Jenna sat up and shook her head. “Now I’m getting spooked.”
It’s just the wind. When Duke growled again and scratched at her door, she reached for the bedside lamp. “Okay, I’m coming.” She flicked on the switch. No pale glow flooded the room. She ground her teeth. Just her luck. The bulb needed replacing. Reluctantly climbing from her warm bed, she went to the door and hit the switch on the wall.
Nothing.
A flash of lightning followed by a roll of thunder shook the house, sending Duke running for cover. Jenna bit back a laugh. “It’s okay, the lights will be back on soon and we’ll check the house.”
As the house had a backup generator, if the storm had knocked out the power it would come right back on. She went back to her bed and sat waiting, counting for the few minutes it took to kick in. Time seemed to drag by and she reached for her cellphone. It lit up, fully charged, and she watched the clock; five minutes went by and the house remained in darkness. The last time the generator failed, someone had entered her home and tried to kill her. The cat yowled again. Its orange eyes fixated on something outside and the hairs prickled the back of Jenna’s neck, echoing Pumpkin’s warning. She’d never seen a bear on her property but it wasn’t beyond reason, or perhaps a bobcat had ventured inside her boundary. When Duke came out from under her bed, braving the storm to bare his teeth at her bedroom door, she had no doubt that someone was in her yard. Heart thundering, Jenna slid out of bed and took her Glock from the bedside drawer, checked the clip, and slid one into the chamber. She had the best security money could buy, but without power it was useless. But whoever was out there had underestimated her. She might be alone, but she’d fight back like a wildcat.
Three
The moon peeked through the dark clouds rushing through a stormy night. Glad the shadows had hidden him from view, he smiled to himself as he observed her, backlit in the windows. Out here with no one around she thought she was safe from prying eyes, and yet, he stood mere yards away from the famous Sheriff Jenna Alton. Her tough-guy bodyguard was conveniently away for the weekend. Now here she was, all alone with only a dog to protect her. Oh yeah, she had weapons, but he was smart. In the dark, she’d go for a chest shot and he wore a military-style vest to keep him safe.
The wind buffeted him as he moved closer to the house and threaded his gift onto a bolt and slotted it into his crossbow. He was an excellent shot and automatically made an adjustment for the wind. He aimed and hit the front post on the sheriff’s porch dead center. The sound of the metal piercing the wood seemed to vibrate the stillness for a split second before another crack of lightning lit up the sky. He heard a dog barking and could imagine the sheriff running around in the dark. Once he’d gained access to her ranch, he’d cut the phone lines and set up his wireless disrupter. Disabling the power had been a breeze, and it didn’t take a genius to find the backup generator. Just about every ranch around these parts had one, and with one single flip of a switch the sheriff would remain in the dark.
He wanted to scare her, make her aware she had a worthy opponent. The idea of her watching over her shoulder all the time for an unknown assassin excited him, but then she’d never had to deal with what would happen next. He’d offer her glimpses of him. He wanted to frighten her and be menacing from the get-go. Others had tried to disguise their murderous ways but he reveled in death. She’d be aware of him, sense him close by, and almost be able to touch him, but he’d always be one step ahead of her, waiting for the time to strike.
He’d play with her for a while, make her believe she could win, and then he’d draw his trump card. He couldn’t wait to be there at the end, watching her as she took her last breath and knowing that evil always triumphs. He’d left a message, a small clue on her porch, and a gift for her in the forest unless the wildlife had spread the remains but he didn’t think so. He’d taken steps to keep the scavengers at bay. His attention remained fixed on the house, and excitement gripped him when the drapes moved a fraction. He chuckled and stepped out of the shadows in full view but just far enough away to make her question if it was really a man standing in her yard or an apparition. At this time of year, when people’s minds filled with stories of ghosts and ghouls, she’d never really be certain. The drapes shivered again, opening just enough for him to make out a pale face at the window. He grinned. She couldn’t hear him but he’d sure gained her attention. “Your move, Sheriff—or should I call you Jenna?”
Four
The house creaked and moaned through another blast of wind. Unsure if someone had broken through her security, Jenna ducked down and crawled across the floor to grab her phone. The cool night seeped through her PJs. If she planned to face an intruder, she’d need a few things for protection, and shucking her light-colored nightclothes was one of them. Dressing fast in jeans and a black sweater, she pulled on socks and boots. Another thwack hit the front porch and convinced her that someone was outside. If they used a suppressor on their weapon, it would sound similar, but why would some idiot be shooting up her house? She added a spare clip to the pocket of her jeans and edged toward the window. Apart from the intermittent rays of moonlight threading through the clouds rushing across the sky, darkness engulfed her yard. Only the groans of the old wooden house and Duke’s low growl disturbed the peace, and yet something had made the noise.
Jenna touched Duke’s head. “Hush now, lie down and stay. I need to listen.”
A bear or a bobcat would have sent the horses crazy, and yet not a sound came from the direction of the barn. The pony in her barn belonging to Anna, the daughter of Dr. Shane Wolfe, the local ME, and a close friend, was well known for squealing, even if a rat entered its stall, so she discounted the chance that wildlife had run onto her property. That left only one conclusion. Someone was outside. Anyone entering a Montanan’s property in the middle of the night was either a fool or had an agenda. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled across the sky, and Jenna’s heart missed a beat. The millisecond of light had picked out a man. He resembled an old-style western gunslinger from the movies. His long black slicker flapped in the wind like bat’s wings and his cowboy hat sat low over his eyes.
Unnerved, she swallowed hard, glad of the warm handle of the Glock against her palm. She hadn’t seen a weapon, but then she’d had the blink of an eye to examine the stranger. Lightning flashed again and the man had vanished. Disconcerted, Jenna closed her eyes. The sudden flash of light had sent red spots dancing across her vision. Had she imagined the man? Was her mind playing tricks on her? She snatched up her phone, and pushing it inside her back pocket, headed across her bedroom and into the hallway. From here she had a direct line of vision to the front door, and the windows on either side gave a clear view of the driveway. Nobody lurked on her porch and the glint of the metal on her cruiser was the only thing visible in the dark.
Lightning bolted across the sky and the hairs on Jenna’s body stood at attention as
the figure of the gunslinger turned to face her before darkness descended again. This time she hadn’t missed the crossbow aimed at her or the strange green glow of his eyes. Pushing down a surge of panic, she ducked under cover and headed down the hallway. Thwack.
With her back to the wall, she edged to her office. The room held screens for video surveillance. It also held her gun safe. This room always had the shutters closed. After the last psychopath had gotten through her security, Kane had replaced the door with one reinforced with steel on the off-chance Jenna couldn’t make it to the safe room hidden beneath the barn. She chewed on her bottom lip and swirled the combination on the safe. Inside she had an arsenal of weapons but chose a hunting rifle, loaded it, and slung it over one shoulder. It was one man, taking potshots at the house to scare her, but she had a team not twenty minutes away. She placed her Glock in the back waistband of her jeans, pulled out her phone to call Rowley, and then stared at the screen in disbelief at the no service message. “What is going on here?”
Without power the landline would be out as well, but she lifted the cordless receiver and checked. A wave of uncertainty washed over her at the silence. If she wanted backup, she’d need her satellite phone. They had three satellite phones at work and she issued them when the need arose. Dave had one in his truck and she had one in her cruiser, but that was parked out front and there was no way she’d risk going outside. She stared at her tracker ring. Same with her ring. No wireless network meant it was useless. She pushed her phone back inside her pocket and moved back into the hallway. Lightning flashed and the window beside the front door exploded inward, sending shards of glass spinning across the wooden floor. A zing went past her ear and a crossbow bolt hit the wall inches from her head. Rolling into cover, she pulled the Glock from her back, rose to her knees, aimed, and emptied the clip out the shattered window. Another bolt zipped past and stuck in the door behind her. A shudder went through her, and memories she’d have preferred to remain buried erupted to the surface. Controlling a wave of panic, she shut them down and slipped the new clip into her weapon. She readied herself for a fight, but she wouldn’t give him the advantage of remaining in the hallway with windows all around. If he wanted a fight, it would be on her terms.
Jenna peered back up the hallway and, keeping low, crawled to her bedroom door. Pumpkin had vanished, likely scampered to a safe place, but Duke was edging out the door on his belly. She grabbed his collar. “Come on, we’ll be safer in the other room.”
Once inside the office, she bolted the door and went to the gun safe. After swapping her rifle for one of the automatic weapons, she checked supplies. She had everything she needed to wait this guy out, including a bathroom. It would be light in a few hours and Kane would be on his way home, but if he was delayed, she already had a contingency plan set in place. If she didn’t show at work or answer her phone, Rowley would be hightailing it out to the ranch to check on her before nine. The closet held the latest in liquid Kevlar vests and pants, sets made for her and Kane courtesy of the government and via Shane Wolfe. With Shane’s finger on the pulse of new innovations for the elite military and Kane’s value to POTUS, no one was taking any chances.
Reluctantly, she laid down her weapons and suited up. Liquid Kevlar solidified if hit with a bullet or knife. The unique material wasn’t bulky like the old-style bulletproof vests and designed for combat so they didn’t restrict movement. As lightning bombarded the sky and the house shook with rolls of thunder, Jenna paced, constantly checking her phone. Perhaps lightning had struck the tower close to her ranch. If so, a crew would be out soon to put things right. A whine from Duke caught her attention. He’d been braver than usual during the storm, but the last rolls of thunder had sent him under the table. She bent to look at his big brown eyes as a tremble went through him. She made her voice as coaxing as possible. “It will be okay, boy, you’re safe in here and Dave will be back soon.”
Bolts hit the shutters with a constant barrage of thwacks, and a cold breeze followed the tinkle of breaking glass. Jenna ducked down and placed her back against a metal filing cabinet and faced the door. How did he know exactly where she was hiding? Was this someone who’d been to the ranch? Only her closest friends would know Kane was away for the weekend, and she could count on one hand the names of the people who knew about the special room. The realization that someone outside her circle of safety knew about her personal life made her heart race. She stared into the darkness. This was one situation she must face alone.
Dragging in deep breaths, she tried to swallow the rising panic and rationalize the situation. Losing control now would be the death of her. She’d trained for situations like this and needed to find that calm, logical place inside her mind and just deal with it. Think it through, Jenna.
Taking a firm grip on her nerves, she pictured the man outside, standing staring at her. His intimidating attitude designed to make her believe she was no threat to him. It was a typical domination technique used by psychopathic killers, wife beaters, and bullies in an attempt to scare. There was more to this attack than a thrill kill. Someone out there wanted her dead, or a notch in their belt for killing her. She’d be damned if she’d allow them to take her down with a darn crossbow. Her mind went to James Stone, a killer she’d taken down some years ago. A man hellbent on killing Kane and then her for no other reason than jealousy. His weapon of choice had been a crossbow before he mutilated the bodies of his victims. He’d blamed her for the reason he killed, but he was locked up for life. The memory of him sent shivers down her spine—he would have stopped at nothing to see her dead. Shaking her head to dispel the terrifying images of his victims from clouding her judgment, she ground her teeth. The man outside could not be Stone and whoever he was, she refused to play his game and would stand her ground. No one could get through the reinforced mesh on the windows and if they did, she’d be waiting for them.
Determined and loaded for bear, Jenna gave Duke a pat on the head. “It’s going to be fine, boy. No one is coming through that door alive.” She swallowed her uncertainty, not able to voice her concern. She ground her teeth as glass exploded, pinging across the wooden floor.
He’s coming.
Five
It had been an interesting weekend, but Dave Kane woke as usual at five and stared at the ceiling in his hotel room. At this time of the morning, he’d usually be out tending the horses. He sure missed Jenna and being on the ranch, but he’d gained a lot of information over the weekend. The seminar had been engrossing and he wished he’d had Deputy Rio’s incredible recall to remember all the techniques used by the specialists in their field of psychopathy. He’d ordered the DVD and would be using it to refresh his memory. His mind went to Jenna. If he had his way, he’d have been on the first flight home after the seminar, but Jo wanted to dine with old friends and, although reluctantly, he’d joined her with Carter. He had little choice in the matter. They’d given him a ride in the FBI chopper and would be dropping him at the medical examiner’s office before heading home to Snakeskin Gully. With a helipad on top of the building, it made life so much easier. He’d left his truck, affectionately known as the Beast because of its high-performance engine and bulletproof capabilities, in the ME’s parking lot.
He rolled out of bed and, after stretching his tight muscles, he completed deep breathing exercises to expand his damaged lung. The pain still caught him unawares, and the specialist had forbidden him to resume his vigorous daily training schedule. He padded to the shower, taking ten minutes to shave, shower, and dress. His military training was part of who he was, and being ready in any situation was part of his life. He usually kept himself mentally and physically in shape for any contingencies. The injury had slowed him down some but he’d recover. One thing for sure, it hadn’t stopped him shooting the wings off a fly.
He’d surmised that Jenna had some military qualifications from the get-go. The way she’d trained Deputy Rowley came as close to a drill sergeant as she could get. The young man worked ou
t three nights a week at the local dojo and never missed his time on the gun range. He’d married Sandy, a local girl, last Christmas, and they had twins due late December. It would seem his circle of close friends was getting larger by the year.
He’d missed Jenna’s company over the weekend. They’d been working side by side for a few years now and had become more than friends, but Jenna was an independent woman, not to mention his boss, and they’d needed to remain professional on the job at all times. They’d agreed to keep their involvement secret from the rest of the team to maintain normality.
When a knock came on his door, he frowned. He’d ordered room service but wasn’t expecting it until five-thirty. It seemed being with an FBI delegation had its rewards. The kitchen had been open to them at all hours over the weekend. He opened the door, surprised to see Ty Carter pushing a breakfast cart, and grinned. “Morning. Are they having staff shortages?”
“Very funny.” Carter wheeled in the cart. “I know you eat early and I called down and told them to add my order to your cart. I offered the girl a twenty and she handed it right over. It’s just as well I wasn’t planning on slipping something into your food.” He pushed the cart to a table before the window. “I eat alone every day and having someone to talk to is an indulgence I don’t plan on missing out on.” He turned and looked at the Doberman who’d shadowed him inside the room. “Lie down, Zorro. We won’t be long.”
Kane took in the FBI special agent and ex-Navy Seal. They worked well together. Carter had his ghosts to deal with and had spent two years off the grid living in a cabin in the woods fighting his PTSD demons. Dressed in a clean shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots, his shaggy sun-bleached blond hair still hung to his collar even after their trip to the barber. One thing for sure. Carter didn’t resemble any FBI agent he’d worked with, but his persona suited him just fine now he was investigating crimes in the wild west.