The Bones Will Speak (30 page)

“I can't, Mom,” she said through chattering teeth.

“Yes, you can. You're brave and resourceful, and you want to help me get Mattie home.”

Aynslee rolled to her knees. I clutched Mattie's arm and leg with my right hand so I wouldn't drop her, bent down, and grabbed Aynslee's arm, hoping I wouldn't collapse next to her. She sobbed as I hauled her to her feet. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do it,” I whispered.

Once upright, I looped my left arm around Aynslee's right to help her. Barefoot, we staggered ahead into the forest. The pinecones and deadfall sliced my feet; tree branches yanked my hair, slapped my face, grabbed at Mattie's limp body. Every gasp of air caused stabbing pain from my cracked rib.

The moonlight disappeared behind a cloud, pitching us into darkness. Aynslee moaned next to me. I slowed, then stopped. What if I got turned around? Was the house behind me? Reaching forward as far as my bent arm would allow, I touched a tree trunk.
What now?
I bit my lip, forcing silence.
The dogs.
They were behind us, moving downstream, southwest. If I could hear—

An excited yip. Behind and to my left. Home was straight ahead. I touched the tree again, then edged around it.
Straight ahead. Three steps.
Branches cracked against my face.
Slow.
This was too slow. I quickened my pace.

The downed log caught me just below the knee. I landed heavily, rolling Mattie off my shoulders. Aynslee tumbled beside me. My head spun and I fought to stay conscious, my breath wheezing.

“I can't go on,” Aynslee cried.

Excited barks erupted in the distance behind us. Had they found the coat? Would tearing it up keep them busy? What if he'd sprayed the inside of the coat? The scent would transfer easier. Had the water been enough to wash it off the girls? Were the dogs looking for them now?

I untangled my feet.
Snarls.
Not behind me, now to the left. Which way should I go? The stream ran perpendicular to the road, so if the dogs followed the coat, I should be . . . where?
Work it out; work it out. Start over. If the sound . . .
The moon cleared the cloud and briefly lit the woods. I searched for the game trail I'd followed before. There, on my right, the path marked by darker earth.

Pulling Aynslee to her feet, I propped her against the tree. Mattie lay on her back, breathing shallowly. I rolled her to her stomach, then squatting by her head, I hooked my elbows under her armpits. Lifting her to her feet, I braced my leg between hers and draped her arm over my shoulder. Squatting, I shifted her weight over my shoulder and adjusted it.

Now all I had to do was stand. My legs trembled and ribs screamed in protest. Bit by agonizing bit, I stood.

Home wasn't far. Less than a mile. We'd already covered part of it. We could do this! I tugged Aynslee more upright, then I listened for sounds of pursuit.

Frantic baying behind me. They
had
found the coat.

We lurched onward down the trail. My wet, muddy clothing held the chill of the stream, and my hands shook like quaking aspen in a strong wind.

My foot exploded in excruciating agony.

I cried out in spite of my best efforts and groped my leg. The
stick was embedded in the arch of my foot. Holding my breath, I jerked it out, then clamped my teeth over the scream.

“Mom?” Aynslee whispered.

“No time, go.” We pushed on. Good foot, bad foot, good foot. “ ‘Run with endurance,' ” I panted. “ ‘The race . . . the race set before you.' ” Good foot, bad foot.
Endure.
The words pounded in my head in rhythm with my hammering heart.

The trees thinned and a glint shown ahead.

“Our yard.” Aynslee gasped.

We tottered faster. I didn't care about the pain. We cleared the woods. Closer, closer.

Behind us came a crash, followed by an excited,
“Woof!”

We reached the back door. Locked. I'd made sure the house was secure before I left to find the girls. The house keys were in my car, parked at the top of the ridge. I stepped toward the hidden key.

“There's no key, Mom.”

That's right. The yaps became excited howls.

I turned.
Options? Options? Run to Wes's pickup? What if it was locked as well? Garage? Couldn't make secure
. Frantically, I stumbled to the side of the house.
One chance: the crawl space.

Filled with spiders.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

THE MOON OFFERED JUST ENOUGH LIGHT TO
distinguish vague shapes and outlines. My breath misted in front of my mouth as I released Aynslee, then slipped Mattie from my shoulders and eased her to the ground. I knelt beside her. My cooling sweat joined with my heat-leaching clothing. Hand shaking, I reached for the latch. I could barely feel my fingers.

The latch clattered loose when I touched it. Pulling the door open, the gaping black hole faced me.
You have no options.

I listened for the dogs, but heard nothing above the light breeze swishing through the pines.
Why have the dogs stopped baying?

As if reading my mind, both dogs let out an eerie cry that reverberated off the mountains.

They were close.

They could get to the house before I dragged both girls to safety. But which girl should I pull in first? Mattie could hardly move. Aynslee was my only child.

I froze, my mind blank.

“Mom?”

Another howl. Closer still.

Jerking to action, I edged to my feet. “Aynslee, I'll help you lie down, then I'm going to pull Mattie inside.” I tried to keep my voice from shaking. “I'll drag her to the trapdoor. You have to follow the best you can. As soon as she's inside, I'll help you. Do you understand?”

She answered with a soft sob.

Wrapping my arm around Mattie, I propelled myself through the opening. The darkness enveloped me. Ahead, a square of pale earth outlined the pantry hatch above
. It's not that far.

Lying on my side, I hitched forward, dragging Mattie slowly through the talcum-fine dust. A gossamer web draped my face. Delicate legs skittered across my mouth.

I clamped my lips tight, desperately battling the desire to open my mouth and scream. Black widow spiders loved dark places.
Oh, dear Lord! Endurance. With endurance.
Creeping faster, something snaked up my pants. Reaching back, I swatted hard, smashing it against my leg.

A large timber blocked my view of the light. The floor joists seem to crush downward, snagging my shirt.
Trapped!
I scrabbled to my left.
There!
The trapdoor beckoned. I clawed forward. Mattie struggled against me, slowing me down further. “Mattie, it's me. Be still.” The girl stopped resisting. More webs draped around the insulated pipes. A strange moaning accompanied my movements.
Endure. Endure.

Reaching the square of light, I let go of the girl and crouched, then slowly straightened my legs, bringing my shoulders to the hatch. I pushed, trembling at the weight. The trapdoor raised,
allowing more light below. I pushed harder, willing the door to open.

An excited howl seemed just outside.

Adrenaline fueled my efforts. I shoved one final time. The door flew back and landed with a crash. I reached down and dragged Mattie to a sitting position, then lifted her. She muttered a protest against me as I thrust her through the opening.

Shoving her away from the open hatch, I turned back toward my daughter. Still outside. With the dogs.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

THE CRAWL SPACE WAS A BLACK HOLE. GAUZY
spiderwebs waved with the airflow around me.

A hot flash shot up my neck and onto my face, leaving me breathless for a moment. I closed my eyes and dropped to my knees. For a moment I couldn't see anything. Orienting myself to the outside opening, I slithered forward, searching for the beam that I'd earlier crawled around.

The beam was straight ahead.

So was a scratching noise.

Clambering faster, I reached the beam, then snaked around it. I collided with Aynslee. She'd somehow pushed herself almost halfway to the trapdoor.

Both of us gasped, but there was no time to lose. I could hear the dogs panting and sniffing nearby. They'd find the opening at any moment.

I grabbed Aynslee's arm and tugged her backward. It had to have hurt her terribly with both hands tied behind her back, but she didn't say a word. She weighed more than Mattie, but she used her legs to push.

We made it to the opening.

Crouching beside her, I grabbed her under the armpits and, ignoring the scorpion-like stab from my rib, I stood and thrust her through.

The river rock next to the house crunched under the dog's paws. A screech, and one dog yelped with excitement. They'd found the door to the crawl space.

I clawed for something to grab.
Doorjamb.

Muffled scrabbling behind me.

Heave forward.
I flung myself on the kitchen floor, rolling as I scraped the web from my face.

The dogs bayed in response.

With dirt-blackened hands, I slammed the trapdoor shut and thrust the latch, my hands fumbling before slamming it home.

Thud!
Something—I hoped it was a dog's head—crashed against the floor.

Aynslee whimpered.

“'S okay, sweetheart.” I pushed my body next to the wall and used my legs to inch the small chest freezer over the trapdoor.

The thumps became fainter as I jammed the freezer into place. I leaned against the wall for a moment.
Safe. They can't get in.
Pain from my rib and foot throbbed with the beat of my heart.

The dogs barked frantically under my feet.

Both girls still lay on the kitchen floor where I'd shoved them. I crossed to the wall and turned off the kitchen light.

“Mom?” Aynslee's voice was high and shrill.

“It's okay. I just don't want to be silhouetted against the curtains.” Waiting a moment for my eyes to adjust, I opened the kitchen junk drawer and rummaged around until I felt a pair of scissors. Turning, I carefully moved to my daughter, then knelt
beside her. “I'm going to cut the zip ties off your wrists. It won't feel good for a few minutes, but that will pass.”

She let out a moan of pain as I snipped the hard plastic.

The dogs banged the floorboards under our feet.

Mattie mumbled and tossed from side to side on the floor, her breathing shallow.

I touched her skin. Icy cold.

Leaving both girls briefly, I hobbled to the bathroom. The nightlight barely illuminated the small room. I turned on the hot water in the bathtub, shut the door, and returned to the kitchen.

The dogs growled and scratched below me.

Lifting Mattie, I dragged her to the steam-filled room where I lay her on a bath mat. Aynslee was already trying to stand, and I helped her up. I could see her face faintly. Her nose was swollen and turning purple, as were her eyes. I touched her face. “Oh, sweetheart—”

She grinned. “You should see the other guy.”

Supporting her under the arms, she soon joined Mattie in the steamy bathroom. “Mom, I think I know his target. Not the University. The Jewish Community Center in Missoula. Tomorrow. Eleven a.m.”

Crash!

I jumped and covered my mouth. Someone, or something, shattered a window somewhere in the house.

Don't worry. You're safe.
A person, or a big dog, wouldn't be able to fit through the security bars I'd had installed six months ago. I hoped.

Crash!

Another window. Leaving the girls to breathe the warm steam, I crept down the dark hall. The dogs followed my footsteps,
thumping the floor hard enough to make the wood vibrate. I opened the door to Aynslee's room. A rock lay on the right, and a chill breeze tossed the drapes. Glass shards would be on the floor, and I was still barefoot.

I reached over, grabbed the blankets off her bed, and raced back to the bathroom.

Bam!
Aynslee screamed. The rock smashed the tiny window over the toilet. I turned off the shower and wrapped both girls in the blankets.

Another window shattered. It sounded like the noise came from my studio.

A piercing whistle came from outside.

The dogs grew silent.

I hobbled to my room, carefully avoiding the glass on the floor, and crept to the unbroken window. Ever so slowly, I caught one side and drew open the curtain. The moon, finally freed of clouds, cast a steady gleam on a pickup with a veterinary mobile unit mounted in the truck bed.

The killer.

Dr. Hawkins.

I sucked in a quick breath. My fingers clenched the curtains.

The two dogs sat on either side of him, watching the house. “Hello, Gwen. I'm surprised at your resourcefulness.” His attention was to my left. He hadn't seen the curtain move.

“You figured out the coat held the scent. Too bad you didn't get it all off of you. A dog's nose can pick up even the faintest of odors.”

My teeth were locked together. His plan was now so clear. Dr. Hawkins had been the one to spread the rumor about the wolves. He'd been the only one to have seen them.

Hawkins leaned against his truck.

“I know you can hear me,” he said.

Don't talk to him. Let him wonder what's going on.

“Do you think you're safe in there?” He rubbed his arm. “Behind all those barred windows and doors? You don't even have a gun.” He lifted my rifle and pivoted it so I could clearly see the stock. “Not that a pink rifle is much of a gun.”

I made an effort to relax my fingers. Dave would get here soon. Or Dre.

“They'll never catch me, you know, Gwen. I'm now just poor Dr. Hawkins, moving on because the animal hospital burned down.”

His excuse for leaving town: starting over with another practice. I didn't want to listen to him gloat. Gliding away from the window, I stopped dead.

Hawkins blew up the practice. He'd set bombs in Spokane. What if he were throwing rocks through my windows not to cause destruction, but to make sure a bomb could fit inside?