Night Prey (3 page)

Though he had been angry at the time, he took responsibility for the arrest that had happened later that night. Looking back, he was glad it had happened. It had been a wake-up call. When his legal entanglements had been addressed, he enlisted. By the time he was finished with boot camp, he had gotten help and sobered up.

But the way Jenna had abruptly and completely cut him out of her life was what he could not get past. She hadn't come to see him in jail and wouldn't come to the phone when he'd called to say goodbye, as if all five summers together were washed away by one month of bad choices. She didn't stick around long enough to see that he had changed.

The image of her turning her head to one side was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. Keith clenched his jaw. He squeezed out more blue paint on the palette. His brush made broad, intense strokes across the canvas.

If Jenna hadn't cut him out of her life, things would have been different. They would have stayed in touch. She would have known he'd gotten his act together shortly after that night.

Though the death of his friend had triggered his drinking, the emptiness of never having known his father had laid the foundation. If AA had taught him anything, he knew he couldn't blame Jenna for his life choices. But still, he had been vulnerable with her, revealed his true feelings. And he had been rejected. He would never put himself in a place where she could hurt him like that again.

He had dated other women in the twelve years since he'd left Hope Creek in disgrace. Some had broken up with him and he had ended other relationships, but nothing had hurt as much as her turning away from him that night.

He flexed his fingers to try to work out the ache in them. Even though he had stripped down to his T-shirt, the attic space was still hot. He collapsed in a chair and stared at the work he had done so far. It was an okay landscape, but nothing that threatened Charlie Russell's reputation.

Apparently sensing Keith's distress, Jet rose from the bed and padded over to his owner. He rested his head on Keith's leg, licked his chops and let out a sympathetic whine. Keith stroked Jet's smooth, soft head, the movement drawing his attention to his wrist.

He ran his fingers along the braided scar that started there and moved up the inside of his arm to the crook of his elbow. He had an identical scar on the other arm,
only not as far up. Scars on his chest, as well, showed where the power of the blast had embedded debris.

His life had changed in an instant by a roadside bomb. Both arms had been blown apart by the explosion. The speed at which they had moved him off the battlefield and a skillful surgeon had saved his life and his arms. He had lost some strength and dexterity and the scars would be there forever. But he thanked God every day that he was alive.

He didn't realize it at the time, but God had brought a father replacement into his life in the form of a caring drill sergeant, who helped him find his sobriety while still in boot camp. But it wasn't until his tour in Iraq and the accident that his understanding of God had changed. When he was in rehab staring at a hospital ceiling, he had found the faith that his grandparents had modeled summer after summer. Like his grandfather, he didn't talk much about his faith, though he felt it deeply.

Keith wiped the sweat from his brow and stared at the eagle soaring in the immense painted sky. Despite his attempts to forget, he did remember Jenna; and now every detail of their summers together came at him like a flood. He hadn't thought he would ever see her again. He had assumed she would leave for college and never come back. There was nothing to keep her in this dinky town. Her mom had died when she was two and though she'd been close to her father, the man had always encouraged her to follow her dreams.

He had come back to Hope Creek for two reasons: to make amends to his grandparents for the damage he had done when he was seventeen, and for the solitude. Iraq had been more than he had bargained for. He needed
time to sort through his life and find his bearings again. Jenna hadn't been on the agenda. How was it possible that with all that had happened, the dormant attraction could be revived just by seeing her?

Keith rose to his feet and picked up his brush. Maybe he should just paint over that eagle. He stood back to examine his work. No, the bird looked right flying up there in the huge sky. He dipped the tip of his brush in the blue and mixed it with white.

Someone rapped gently on the outside door. Who on earth would be knocking at this hour? Keith's chest tightened. Maybe there had been an emergency with Gramps or Grandma.

He grabbed his long-sleeved shirt and raced over to the door.

When the door swung open, Keith's jaw dropped, and he took a step back. “Jenna. What are you doing here?”

K
eith's reaction to the sight of her was a lot calmer than she had expected, considering the hour. He seemed surprised, but not displeased to see her. Even though he was barefoot, it didn't look like he had been sleeping. Streaks of paint decorated the thighs of his faded jeans. His brow glistened with sweat, yet he wore a long-sleeved shirt.

“Someone broke into the center…and into my house. They left this note on the computer.” The trembling in her hands made the sheet waver.

Keith took the piece of paper she'd printed out.

“I know it's late, but I thought you should see that.” Jenna's legs were still wobbly, and her stomach had tied itself into knots. Right now, it didn't feel like she would ever eat again.

Keith read the note. His expression hardened. “Did you tell the sheriff?”

“Both him and his deputy are over there right now. They let me go after I answered their questions. They could see I was upset, and they asked me if there was anyone who…”

He reached out and brushed a hand over her cheek.
“You don't look so good. Do you want to come inside?”

Like breath on a window, the warmth of Keith's touch faded slowly. He was the first person she'd thought of when the fear over the vandalism had overwhelmed her. Even if the incident didn't involve the King Ranch, she would have craved his calming influence. As though a day hadn't passed, she had slipped into the old patterns of their relationship.

Though she was curious about where he lived, it was enough of an imposition to show up at this hour. “I don't need to come inside. Sorry to bother you this late. I just thought you should know, since it concerns your grandparents' place.”

He relaxed his posture and leaned against the door frame. “How did you know I was up here?”

“It was the only part of the house with lights on.” Her hand fluttered to her neck, where her pulse was racing. She hadn't calmed down even after the drive over. Whoever had broken into the raptor center and her house had succeeded in their attempt to scare her by threatening to harm the birds at the center. She was furious at the threat, but she was also scared. Very, very scared.

Keith ran his hands through his wavy brown hair, then slapped the note with his hand. “Don't tell my grandparents.” Strength returned to his voice, and he lifted his head. “Grandma and Gramps shouldn't have to deal with something like this.”

“Good thing you are here to help.” The protective stance he had taken toward his grandparents was admirable. She found herself wishing he had been at the
center earlier. He would have known what to do with the intruder. Maybe if Keith had stayed awhile to visit, there wouldn't have been a break-in at all. Though she tried not to, mental images of birds fluttering wildly and the note on her laptop made her legs wobbly all over again.

Keith stepped toward her. “You look kind of pale. Are you sure you don't want to come in and sit down?”

Jenna stepped across the threshold. “It's kinda hot in here.”

“Not much ventilation,” he said.

She moved back outside and turned on the tiny landing. “I think the cool night air would be the best thing for me.” She was surprised that after all these years, he was still keenly tuned in to her emotional state. Surprised and flattered.

They had learned to read each other while rock climbing the last summer they were together. As climbers, they had always gone out in a group, but Jenna had proved to be his best climbing partner. Keith had been mentored by an older climber the year before. The next summer, their last summer together, he had taught Jenna. Because their lives depended on it, they had become adept at knowing not only what their climbing partner would do physically while hanging from a cliff face, but how their emotional states affected them. She wondered what he was reading from her now. She felt so anxious and confused, she didn't know what to do. But his presence was making it better.

She stared up at the sky. Pulsating stars and wispy clouds accented the black dome above her. Strength returned to her limbs. She wasn't shaking anymore.

Keith rested his back against the railing, lacing his hands together over his lean stomach. He looked up. “It is peaceful out here, isn't it?”

“Always calms me down.” She took in a deep breath of fresh night air. “Better than therapy.” She bent her head, tracing the dark outline of the jagged mountains and flat buttes against the lighter shade of sky. Off in the distance, a light blipped and disappeared. She pushed herself off the railing. “What was that?”

Keith leaned toward her. “What?”

“Over there by those buttes. I think I saw a light.” She squinted and took a step toward the opposite railing, cupping her hands over the rough wood of the two-by-four. “I'm pretty sure I saw something. Do you have a pair of binoculars?”

“I can find some.” Keith stepped into the huge room, opened a couple of bureau drawers and lifted a coat and sweater as Jenna peered inside. Artificial light gave the space a warm glow. The place was free of clutter. Keith seemed to desire a bare bones existence. A black German shepherd settled in the corner.

She took a step inside. “I didn't know you had a dog.” The shepherd lifted his head but remained in the bed.

Keith opened a cupboard. A dorm-size refrigerator and double burner resting on counter space indicated that the area functioned as a mini kitchen. “That's my buddy, Jet.”

Jenna took another step inside. Two paintings, both landscapes, caught her eye. They were places she knew well, a river and a mountaintop no more than a few miles away. Was Keith aware that he was painting their childhood haunts?

“Found them.” Keith pulled a pair of binoculars from a lower cupboard.

She retreated to the balcony and turned her attention back to the area where she had spotted the light. Nothing caught her eye. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something or someone was out there.

Keith's bare feet padded lightly on the wood floor. Once outside, he handed her the binoculars.

She leaned toward him and pulled the binoculars up to her face. She adjusted focus and scanned the landscape filled with shadows. “I saw what looked like a glowing light.”

Keith surveyed the tiny landing and then looked up. “Maybe if we get higher.” He tested the railing by shaking it. “I'll climb first and then pull you up.”

He jumped on the railing and flipped himself on the roof with the deftness of an Olympic gymnast. He turned and stared down at her. “Your turn.”

Already, her heart was racing. As a young girl she had had a fear of heights. Keith had helped her overcome that, but she was out of practice. The old fears were back. She handed him the binoculars first and then crawled on the railing. “This brings back some memories.”

“We never climbed houses.” There was something guarded about the statement.

“Just rock cliffs, right?” Her life would have gone on a completely different trajectory if she hadn't met Keith when she was ten. Like her father, who was the town's librarian, she'd spent most of her time with her face buried in a book. She had always loved nature, but Keith's desire to teach her to kayak and climb had
awakened her sense of adventure. If it hadn't been for him, she probably would have ended up working in a lab somewhere instead of running the rescue center. And she definitely wouldn't be here, about to climb on the roof of a house, looking for answers to a mystery.

“You're going to have to stand on that railing,” he coaxed.

“I know.” Her hands were sweating.

Keith pushed himself to the edge of the roof. “My hand is right here.”

She eased to her feet, finding her balance by resting a hand on the wall. Whether showing her how to rock climb or build a campfire, he'd been a patient teacher. Jenna lifted her head and locked into Keith's gaze. She reached for him. He gripped her wrist. The warmth of his touch permeated her skin to the marrow. “I'm dizzy.”

“I'm right here. Other hand. Let go of the wall, Jenna,” he soothed.

He pulled her up and into his arms in one easy movement. She scooted toward him and away from the edge of the roof. Her hand rested on his chest. Beneath the softness of the cotton shirt, his heart pounded out a raging beat. She bent her head, out of breath. “I never did learn to like heights.” The truth was that when she was hanging from a mountain, if it had been anyone else beside Keith holding the rope, she probably wouldn't have been able to climb.

“You always did just fine.” His voice warmed.

His face was close enough for her to hear the soft intake and exhale of air. She could smell his soapy cleanness. She'd kept Keith Roland frozen in time. All
these years, he'd been the boy who was her summertime buddy. But he wasn't a boy anymore. His transition into manhood had been marked by such tragedy that she'd held on to the part of him that had been so wonderful, the boy part of him. Here in front of her, holding her, was the man she couldn't make heads or tails of.

He scooted away, and the coolness of the night enveloped her. “Let's see if we can spot anything from here,” he said, clearing his throat.

Jenna pulled her knees up to her chest. Then she studied the outline of the mountains. Again, a light flickered and disappeared. She pointed and grabbed his arm. “Right about there.”

He lifted the binoculars, craning his neck slowly.

“See anything?”

He shook his head. “Maybe if we stand.”

“On the roof?”

He laughed, and there was something of the adventurous boy in the laughter. “Come on, you know I can talk you into almost anything.”

“That was when I was twelve. This is not a mountain. We don't have any ropes to catch our fall.
You
stand up.”

He nodded. “Suit yourself.” He handed her the binoculars and eased himself to his feet. His hand reached down, brushing the top of her head while he continued to look straight ahead. She grabbed his hand at the wrist and placed the binoculars in them.

He wobbled as he lifted them to his face but maintained his balance. Jenna held her breath. She tilted her head.

“I see them,” he said a moment later. “Lights…
moving.” After putting the strap around his neck, he let the binoculars fall against his chest.

“What could it be?”

“People on my grandfather's land.” His voice intensified. “It's hard to tell exactly where they are at this distance. Gramps and I used to ride all over the place on dirt bikes, but it's been a while since then. I don't know the trails as well as I used to.”

“I've gotten pretty good at reading the landscape from having to rescue birds in the weirdest places.”

“That would involve you having to stand up,” he teased.

She took in a breath. “I can do it.”

“That's my brave girl.”

Her heart lurched. That was what he used to say to her when she made the decision to do something, even if it scared her.

He extended a hand to her and she rose to her feet. She leaned against him to steady herself. She could see the front edge of the roof from here. Even before she straightened her legs, the night sky was spinning around her. She dug her fingers into his arm. He braced her by placing his arm around her waist.

“Steady,” he whispered in her ear.

His hair brushed against her cheek. “Ready now?” She nodded, and he brought the binoculars up to her eyes. The view through the lens was not spinning. Pulsating circles of light floated phantomlike across the landscape. She could discern another larger stationary glow. “Somebody is definitely out there.”

“But where are they exactly? Gramps's place is thousands of acres.”

She moved the binoculars across the view in front of her. The outline of the mountains revealed the shape of a wizard's hat and a formation that everyone called the Angel's Wings. “They have got to be close to Leveridge Canyon.”

“I remember that area. Should we call the sheriff, tell him where to go?”

Jenna shook her head. “The sheriff's still looking for fingerprints at my place. It would take him a while to get over here. We should go out there now before they leave. What if what is going on out there now is connected to the shooting and the note?”

He rubbed his hands on his jeans, angling his head away from her.

“Someone is trespassing on your grandfather's land. We can find out who is doing this and turn them in,” she persisted. If they caught whoever was doing this, they wouldn't be able to harm the birds at the center.

The thought of any kind of confrontation terrified her, though. She needed Keith's help. Why was he hesitating? The events of the afternoon showed that he could handle himself just fine, better than she could. “Please Keith, I can't do this alone.”

He crossed his arms and stared out at some unknown object as though he were mulling over options. He turned toward her. “I don't want you going out there by yourself. It could be dangerous.”

“Thank you.”

He shook his head and let his arms fall to his side. “I'll see if I can find a map that might help us pinpoint where they are. The dirt bikes are fueled and ready to go in the garage.”

In less than fifteen minutes, they had climbed down from the roof and run to the garage. Jenna placed the bike helmet on her head. She watched him buckle a gun belt around his waist. Considering what had happened this afternoon, the gun was a reasonable precaution. Still, her heartbeat quickened as she slipped on her bike gloves. What were they riding out to?

Jenna turned the petcock on the fuel tank, choked the engine, flipped out the kickstart.

Without a word, Keith sauntered over to her bike while she stepped aside. He jumped down on the kick start. The engine revved to life. She had never been able to get a bike started on the first try.

While Keith started his own bike, Jenna swung a leg over the worn seat. She twisted the throttle to a high idle.