“Dr. Runous, the game warden from D.C. He’s on a trek with my brother Jethro at present in North Carolina. Should be back close to Christmas, I suspect.”
“And you’re looking after the place?”
Cletus gave a non-committal shrug and veered away from the porch into the darkness. “More like, I’m keeping an eye on the two people who are supposed to be looking after the place.”
I stumbled on something I couldn’t see, causing Cletus to halt and turn. He fit his hand in mine then used the contact to pass me a flashlight. “Here, I got my hands full with this stuff.” He let go of my hand and picked up the canvas bag he’d momentarily placed at his feet. “Maybe you could make yourself useful by shining the light ahead of us.”
I got the impression Cletus could see just fine without the flashlight, but was perhaps looking to give me an excuse to use it. I gave him a grateful smile and clicked it on, shining the light ahead, and was surprised when I saw a wooden boardwalk with a rail directly in front of us.
“Where does this go?”
“Down to the lake.” Cletus began walking again, his boots connecting with the wood of the boardwalk, making a distinct thudding sound. His movements were swift while mine were hesitant as I tried to see by the glow of the flashlight; therefore, he was soon twenty or more feet ahead of me. I realized we were approaching stairs that descended into a black nothing.
“Which lake?” I asked, hesitating again.
“Bandit Lake,” he threw over his shoulder just before falling out of sight.
I stopped, suddenly unable to move, and whispered to myself, “Bandit Lake…”
Beau and Duane were at Bandit Lake.
My heart rate skyrocketed and, despite the fact my legs were bare and I was in strappy high heels, I felt abruptly hot and anxious. I didn’t know what to do, so I stood stone still, my flashlight shining in the direction where Cletus had disappeared. I couldn’t go forward, so I lingered, feeling paralyzed and fretful for an indeterminate period of time.
I kept thinking, What if he’s there? But I didn’t know which he I meant.
Did I mean Beau?… Or did I mean Duane?
Forward likely led to the twins—one made me tongue-tied and the other…the other…
A rustling from behind caused me to jump, pulling me out of my musings and back to the present, a small squeak escaping my throat. I was still flushed, but I shivered, my heart now thundering in my chest. It might have been a bear. It might have been a possum. I tried to calm down. But then an owl hooted, and my squeak turned into a yelp.
Winston twins or not, anything was preferable to being stranded alone in the darkness on a moonless Halloween night in the middle of nowhere. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ventured forward and down the steps, pausing briefly to take off my shoes when I realized they were keeping me from moving at maximum speed.
I sprinted forward, a feeling of dread in my chest. Every few feet I thought I heard the sound of steps behind me. This only made me move recklessly faster. A lump formed in my throat when I realized I should have reached Cletus already, but the stairs were never ending. The light in front of me seemed to waver. My hands were shaking. I clenched my jaw, telling myself to relax.
But then I heard the steps again, and this time they were unmistakable. Someone—or something—was behind me, and it was moving faster than I was. Panic and dread and every tortuous emotion clawed at my lungs, which were now on fire, and I had only one thought. I needed to get away.
I descended another two full flights, the sound at my back growing louder, and a scream started building in my throat. But just before I released it, a hand closed around my mouth, and an arm wrapped around my middle, easily lifting me off my feet.
I thrashed against the strong hold, dropping both my shoes and the flashlight in my struggle. Blind fear took the place of sense, and I bit one of the fingers over my mouth with gusty violence.
“Ow! Dammit that hurt!” I felt the hard chest behind me vibrate as the hand was removed from my mouth. I recognized that the voice of my captor belonged to either Duane or Beau Winston.
Therefore I froze.
“Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing here, and why the hell did you bite me?”
I swallowed, tearing my lip through my teeth. My back was still to his front, my feet were still not touching the ground.
Tentatively, I asked, “Duane?”
He stilled, and I felt some of the tension leave his arms. Slowly, carefully, gently he set me down and turned me to face him. I could just make out a shadow of his features in the starlight.
“Jessica?” he asked, his hands on my shoulders. “Jessica James?”
“Yes. Yes, it’s me.” I swallowed my last word, my knees feeling weak as adrenaline left my body. I was so relieved. Despite our lengthy history of mutual dislike and his trickery earlier in the evening, my chest flooded with warmth at the sight of him. I couldn’t ever remember being so happy to see the outline of another person in my whole life.