Page 38 of Out of Time (Undaunted Courage #3)
TWENTY-ONE
NOTHING.
Nada.
Zip.
Reining in his frustration, Brad turned up the collar of his jacket. Gave the woods and path one more slow sweep from the concealed spot he’d staked out after he’d done a quiet, meticulous walk-through in the entire area visible from the guest cottage window.
No human movement then, no human movement now.
Whoever had been here must be long gone. Perhaps the person had passed through rather than lingered.
In any case, after more than two hours of silent, motionless surveillance in the bone-chilling wind, it was time to call it a night.
Brad pushed himself to his feet and shook out his stiff muscles.
He’d check in with Cara, let her know his reconnaissance had been a bust, and—
He froze.
Someone, or something, was on the move.
It could be a deer. A few had gone by earlier.
Except this didn’t sound like a deer.
It sounded more like a pair of boots clumping along, breaking sticks and scattering stones along the way. Human footwear made far more noise than the small hooves of a buck or doe.
Brad cocked his ear toward the noise.
It was coming from the path, not the woods, in the direction of the lake. Otherwise, the dead leaves would rattle as branches were pushed aside.
Whoever or whatever it was would be within ten feet of him when they passed.
Pulse accelerating, he crouched down.
Waited.
A light flickered through the trees in the distance.
Definitely human.
Brad pulled out his cell and texted Larry for backup.
Sixty seconds later, a figure in black appeared on the trail, flashlight aimed at the ground. The tall, bulky build suggested the interloper was a man.
Best plan? Stay on the guy’s tail until Larry arrived—and hope the man wasn’t armed. A shooting match wasn’t in his plans for this night, despite the pistol on his hip and all the hours he’d clocked at the range.
The intruder passed by, but his features would have been impossible to discern in the darkness even without the ski mask he wore.
Natalie’s trespasser wasn’t taking any chances on being recognized.
In light of his camouflage, the security cameras Natalie had rejected wouldn’t have helped identify him.
As the masked man passed by, Brad edged out from his hiding spot. Fell in behind him.
Once they reached the clearing by the house and cottage at the edge of the woods, he’d have to stay farther back and—
He came to an abrupt halt as two does barreled through the brush a handful of yards in front of him and bounded out of the woods.
The man swung around. Froze when he realized he was being followed. Took off down the path, toward the cottage and house.
Brad sprinted after him, identifying himself and demanding that he stop.
He didn’t.
Instead, he ran faster.
Brad surged forward too, but he didn’t intend to get too close. Not without backup.
Now that the man was on the run, however, it would be tougher to keep tabs on him until Larry got here.
All at once, the intruder veered into the woods.
Wonderful.
Pursuit through a dense thicket would complicate this chase exponentially.
Nevertheless, Brad followed him in, pushing aside branches, keeping him in sight for the first twenty yards—until mother nature, in the form of a tree root, intervened.
His foot caught and he went down.
Hard.
Biting back a word he never used, he pushed himself to his feet. Gritted his teeth as pain exploded in his ankle the instant he tried to put weight on it.
The word spilled out.
Nothing felt broken, but at the very least he had a bad sprain. Worst case, he’d torn a tendon or ligament.
Didn’t matter.
He was out of this race.
In the distance, the noise of someone hurtling headlong through the underbrush gradually receded.
The trespasser was history.
Expelling a breath, he gripped the tree beside him with one hand to prop himself up and called Larry.
“I’m ten minutes out.” His chief deputy’s tone was all business.
“Don’t bother. I tripped while in pursuit and he got away.”
A beat ticked by.
“You went after him without backup?”
Not the smartest choice in general, but he wanted this mystery solved. ASAP.
“Yeah. I intended to lay low and watch him until you got here, but two deer foiled that plan. I hoped he’d stop when I yelled at him.”
“Do they ever?”
Good point.
“Only if they aren’t guilty.”
“Bingo. You sure you don’t want me to come out there anyway?”
“There’s nothing we can do tonight. It’s dark as pitch in the woods. I’ll come back tomorrow at first light and look the area over in case he dropped anything while he was running away. If he did, it will still be there.”
“You’re the boss. Ten-four.”
As Brad stowed his phone, he listened again.
Nothing but the hoo-h ’HOO-hoo-hoo of a great horned owl broke the stillness.
The trespasser was gone.
Holding on to trees for support, he limped back to the trail and continued toward the cottage, wincing with every step.
At the door, he took a steadying breath and gave a soft knock.
No response.
He tried again.
The curtain on the window beside the door fluttered, and he moved in front of it so Cara could see him.
Seconds later a bolt slid and the door opened. “Come in.” She stepped back to give him access.
He moved inside. “Were you asleep?”
“Yes, believe it or not. I laid down to wait for you and drifted off.”
“I’m not surprised. It’s almost one.”
“Did you see anything?”
“Oh yeah.” He motioned to the café table and chairs against the wall. “Do you mind if I sit?” Maybe that would ease the throbbing in his ankle.
“Sure. Can I turn on a light?”
“No problem. The guy’s long gone.” He limped over to the chair and gingerly lowered himself to it, trying not to grimace.
A soft glow filled the room after Cara flicked a switch, and as she joined him, her eyebrows pinched together. “What happened to your leg?”
“Ankle.” He gave her the short version. “It’ll be fine.
” Even if his boot was getting uncomfortably tight.
“The most important thing is that I did see a guy in the woods. I had him under surveillance and backup was on the way when two deer decided to wreak havoc with my plans. He took off, and while in pursuit I had my unfortunate encounter with the tree root. I’ll come back in daylight to see if he may have dropped anything in his rush to get away. ”
“What happens if he didn’t?”
“I wish I had the answer to that. It’s possible I scared him and he’ll never show again.
If he does come back, though, you can bet he’ll be extra cautious.
” He forked his fingers through his hair.
“I’m going to talk to Natalie again tomorrow about cameras.
With the guy concealing his face, we won’t get a read on his identity, but at least we’ll be alerted if he’s on the premises and can try to get over here before he leaves.
That shouldn’t be hard, given the gap between your sighting and when he left. ”
“Which makes me wonder why he was on the property for so long and what he was doing while he was here.”
“I had the same thought. What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I plan to be on the road by six. Is there any reason I should cancel my meeting?”
“No. The next steps with this are up to me and the deputies.” He pushed himself to his feet, flinching as he tested his weight on the injured ankle. “I’ll let you get back to sleep.”
“Easier said than done after all this excitement.”
“I hear you.” He limped over to the door. “Lock up behind me.”
“Trust me, that’s my plan. Do you need a shoulder to lean on to get back to your car?”
A pair of crutches would be better, considering how far away he was parked, but he shook his head. “You’d have to walk back alone, and I’d rather know you’re safe here. I’ll call you with any news.”
“You should get your ankle checked out.”
“I’ll think about it tomorrow.” After a search of the woods. He leaned down and claimed a quick kiss. “Be careful driving.”
“Always.” She reached out and took his hand. Squeezed. “You be careful too. I don’t have good feelings about whatever is going on here.”
Neither did he.
“I always watch my back. Talk to you soon.”
He exited, waited until he heard the bolt slide into place, then hobbled down the path toward the driveway.
The long walk back to his patrol car wasn’t going to be fun.
Worse yet, he had little to show for his injury.
The ideal outcome tonight would have been to get the guy in custody, grill him to see if he knew anything about Micah’s death, and find out what he was doing on the property for hours at a stretch.
But if nothing else, their suspicions about clandestine activity had been validated.
The challenge now was to figure out how to identify the nocturnal visitor who’d disrupted the peaceful ambiance of Natalie’s place and determine whether his crimes were far more serious than mere trespassing .
STEVEN CLOSED HIS BATHROOM DOOR, yanked off his ski mask, and muttered a string of obscenities that would shock his dear cousin.
Tonight had been a disaster.
An utter, absolute, complete disaster.
And Cara was to blame, if the light that had come on in her cottage after the chase was any indication.
She must have seen his flashlight and alerted the sheriff to his presence. It couldn’t have been Natalie. She’d gone to bed at nine thirty. And as she’d always told him, most nights she slept like a log as soon as her head hit the pillow—leaving her none the wiser about his late-night forays.
But what in blazes was Cara doing here, anyway? According to his cousin, she’d planned to leave early this week to go back to Cape. That’s why he’d come for a long weekend again. It gave him an extra night to search in the cave. And her car hadn’t been parked in front earlier.
So when had she come back? Why had she come back?
It didn’t matter at this point, though.
He’d been seen.
Luckily he’d had the foresight to start covering his features, just in case he stumbled across anyone.
Nevertheless, the ski mask hadn’t protected his face as he’d sprinted through the woods two hours ago, the sheriff in hot pursuit until he’d given up chase for unknown reasons.
Steven leaned closer to the mirror and examined the cut on his forehead, courtesy of a branch that had grazed his temple as he ran through the dense thicket.
How was he going to explain that to Natalie tomorrow? Or the sheriff, if he showed up?
No, not if. When.
He would show up, no question about it.
Brad pulled a clean washcloth from the stash under the vanity, dampened it, and dabbed at the ragged edges of the cut. As blood soaked into the cloth, his stomach began to churn.
No.
He was not going to lose his dinner.
Swallowing past the bile that rose in this throat, he forced himself to clean the cut as best he could without upchucking. It wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t going to heal overnight, either.
Once he’d washed the abrasion, he threw the blood-stained cloth into the tub, slapped on a bandage he found in the medicine cabinet, and left the bathroom.
He ought to try and get some sleep. It was three in the morning, after all.
Far later than he’d planned to be up. But returning to the house before the sheriff was gone would have been risky.
Even when he’d finally snuck back, staying in the shadows, he’d been on full alert in case the man was hiding somewhere, like he’d been earlier.
He’d made it back undetected, though.
What he needed now was rest, to clear his head.
But before he slept, he had to come up with a credible explanation for the cut on his forehead.
He began to pace.
Planning his next moves was also critical.
Like how to ramp up his efforts to get Natalie to leave and let him deal with the property.
If she and the professor were gone, he’d have free rein of the place.
He could stop worrying about someone finding out what he was up to, and he could search the cave during the day instead of into the wee hours of the night.
After the hellacious day he’d had dealing with creditors, a change like that couldn’t come soon enough. Because the more hours he could devote to the search, the faster he’d find the treasure and put an end to his desperate financial straits.
But he could work on those plans tomorrow. Coming up with an explanation for the cut was more—
The hum of running water echoed in the house, and he froze.
Natalie must have gotten up to use the bathroom.
He strode over to the lamp on the nightstand and turned it off. She didn’t tend to wander about at night, but if she did leave her room, she might notice the light shining under his door.
And he didn’t want to have to come up with an excuse for that too.
As he waited in the darkness for silence to once again descend, an explanation for the cut began to form in his mind.
Yeah. That would work.
Doing what was necessary to give it credibility wouldn’t help his queasy stomach, and he’d also have to time it well, but both were manageable.
The house grew quiet again, and Steven crossed to the bed. Shed his outerwear. Set his alarm.
It would be a short night, but he’d sleep in on Saturday.
Stretching out on the bed, he stared at the ceiling.
Of course the sheriff would tell Natalie what had happened tonight. First thing in the morning, if his take on the man was correct. And he’d no doubt try again to convince her to install security cameras. After listening to the man’s story, it was possible she’d agree.
That shouldn’t be a problem, however, as long as he knew where they were.
And he’d see that he did.
Filling his lungs, he forced his muscles to relax. To focus on the positive side of tonight’s events.
Now that the sheriff had proof there was danger lurking here, it might be easier to convince Natalie to move to St. Louis and let him sell the place for her.
He smiled.
Who knew? Maybe tonight would end up working in his favor.
Because once she vacated the premises, and once the sheriff gave up his efforts to pin Micah’s death on anything other than an accident, he should be home free.
He’d find the treasure, lock in the upscale lifestyle and image he’d created, and live the rest of his life on easy street—far away from the hand-to-mouth existence he’d endured growing up, thanks to his father’s ineptitude with money.
And he’d never again have to visit this godforsaken piece of land, devote his weekends to an old lady, or spend his Friday and Saturday nights prowling through the dark bowels of a cursed, haunted hill from which a long-ago relative had plunged to her death.