Exposure (35 page)

“You’re
killing
it tonight, Devers!” Hi tossed him a high five.

I shook my head in wonder. “Could Rex Gable really be that dumb?”

I didn’t think so, but it was surprising what silly mistakes people could make.

Maybe the man was simply computer illiterate, and forgot to cover this one track.

And we found it. But what to do now?

Suddenly, I was furious.

That bastard. His own family! And then grabbing Ella for no reason . . .

“Wait.”

I flattened my palms on the table. Thought hard.

The boys quieted.

“Rex Gable wouldn’t hold his own stepkids for ransom,” I said. “That makes no sense. There must be another motive.”

“I can think of a few,” Ben said quietly. “None of them good. Maybe Rex wanted Lucy and Peter out of his hair. Permanently.”

Ben’s statement was like a ten-foot icicle through my heart.

If Rex Gable was the kidnapper, and he didn’t want his stepkids found, then Ella . . .

“But why take
her
?” Louder than I’d intended.

“That part, I can’t even guess.” Hi sat back, face ashen. “What does Ella Francis have to do with the Gable twins? If a stranger snatched Lucy and Peter, then grabbed Ella later to up the stakes, why haven’t we seen a second ransom video?”

Hi was echoing my confusion from earlier. I was still just as puzzled.

“The police need to know,” Shelton said. “This email will make Rex Gable a suspect.”

“Screw those jokers.” Ben moved to the window bench. “I’m done talking to them. About anything.”

“Today’s meeting didn’t exactly go well,” Hi conceded. “That douchebag Corcoran would rather arrest
us
than anyone. If he finds out we’re conducting an investigation, breaking into other people’s emails . . .” He spread his hands. “I just don’t see how to do it.”

“Dealing with Corcoran is pointless,” I said. “He clearly isn’t interested in anything we have to say.”

“I haven’t even checked Gable’s inbox yet,” Shelton said. “If the dumbass left a copy of the ransom video in his trash folder, who knows what other mistakes he’s made?”

“First order of business.” I brought my hands together. “We review every single email.”

“Tomorrow.” Ben shrugged at my disappointed look. “Sorry, but my mother said I have to be home in an hour.”

“Same here.” Hi wadded up his cookie trash and stuffed it in the wastebasket. “With a kidnapper on the loose, I can’t believe my mother even let me outside. I had to convince her it’d be pretty tough to grab all four of us at once. But she’ll be waiting by the door already.”

I looked at Shelton.

“I’m free bright and early,” he offered.

“Okay.” I exhaled slowly. “I’ll do what I can tonight, then we’ll finish in the morning.”

“You’re staying out here?” Shelton asked. “Alone?”

“No big deal. I don’t want Kit seeing what I’m up to.”

“I don’t like it,” Ben said. Behind him, Hi looked uneasy.

“No one knows this place exists.” I pointed to the other room. “And there’s an eighty-five-pound predator in there that loves me. I’ll be fine.”

They relaxed. Coop might be a big sloppy puppy to us, but to the world at large, my pet was a dangerous-looking beast. A better bodyguard didn’t exist.

“You can leave my laptop here when you’re done,” Shelton said.

“Text me when you get home,” Ben requested. “Please don’t forget.”

I hid a smile. “Will do. Bye, guys. And
please
sleep. We’ve got a ton to do tomorrow.”

Hearing movement, Coop padded into the chamber. Watched the boys crawl outside. Satisfied that I had no intention of following, he curled into a ball at my feet, closed his eyes, and began snoring.

“My hero.”

I cracked a Diet Coke. Opened the first email.

“Watch your back, Rex,” I whispered. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”

“U
gh. Enough!”

I closed the laptop and shoved it aside.

Coop rose, stretched, and shook his muscles loose, the tags on his collar jangling loudly. He yipped once, then slipped through the exit.

“Right behind you.” I turned off the floor lamps and killed the power. Pulling on my windbreaker, I crawled from the bunker behind my canine escort.

Outside, the night air was heavy and wet, with traces of rain lingering on the ocean breeze. Heavy squalls had swept across the island during the two hours I’d worked alone, delving through Rex Gable’s Gmail, message by message.

I was well into the previous year’s emails, but had found nothing of interest. A few hundred remained, but I wasn’t optimistic.

The moon was three-quarters, waxing, reflecting enough light to see without a flashlight. The tall grasses bordering the overland trail would be soaked, so I elected to walk along the shore instead. A slightly longer route, but not much, and watching the crabs skitter and dance as we approached would entertain the mutt.

With Cooper trotting beside me, I split a stand of prickly pears, then ran-walked down the dunes to the beach. I paused a moment to bang sand from my shoes. Coop was already scampering for the tidal pools, snuffling everything in sight.

I love the ocean.

An odd thing to discover, having grown up in central Massachusetts. But I knew it now—wherever life took me, whatever career I might choose, ultimately I’d settle by the sea.

I scooped up a stick as we strolled, in no particular hurry. Catching Coop’s attention, I tossed it into the darkness ahead. He fetched it four consecutive times—a new record—before loping inland with the prize between his teeth.

Coop has the chasing part down cold. Bringing things back is always touch and go.

I took two more steps, then nearly stumbled.

The feeling had returned.

A now-familiar sensation swelled inside my brain, its accompanying sense of oneness arrowing outward in an expanding, spiraling circle. For a fleeting moment, I felt connected to all things around me.

My mind opened like a flower. Inviting. Welcoming. Searching?

Then the sensation vanished once again, leaving no trace.

I held my body still, hoping that, this time, maybe, some clue would reveal itself.

None did. After a few moments, I sighed, resumed my walk down the beach.

“Makes no sense,” I whispered to myself. “None.”

Shaking off the disorientation, I heard a rustling in the dunes directly to my right. Figured Coop had found a rabbit hole.

“Leave the bunnies alone!” I called.

But Cooper’s head poked from the cattails fifty feet ahead.

His canine eyes found mine—two golden disks gleaming in the darkness.

My steps slowed. “How’d you get way up there, boy?”

Vines crunched. A rush of air beside me.

Something black and heavy swooped toward my head.

I barely had time to react, diving to my left as an object hummed past my forehead.

Hitting the ground, I tucked and rolled sideways as a hulking shadow crashed onto the space I’d just vacated.

A muffled curse. The dark shape rose, turning this way and that.

Instinct took over. As I scuttled away on my butt, the wolf
forced
its way out.

SNAP.

Fire exploded inside my chest.

The flare unfolded without being called.

Raw energy flooded my system, pooling and spreading, like a nuclear reaction spiraling out of control. The adrenal jolt was too powerful to withstand. I collapsed on the wet sand, my body convulsing, every muscle cramping at once.

I glimpsed the shadow streaking toward me—a sinuous figure in black, wielding some sort of club—before my eyes simply blanked.

The power was too much.

I lay there, helpless, my senses shutting down one by one.

A gust of wind. A throaty growl. Then a tearing sound, followed by a strangled scream.

“Coop!?!”

The thump of metal on flesh, followed by a yelp of canine pain.

Heavy breathing. Another terrified shout. Then footsteps pounding away.

I tried to rise, but the inferno inside left me paralyzed. Exposed.

SNUP.

The power fled as quickly as it came. I don’t know if I consciously dispelled it, or if the flare simply withered and died.

Slowly, I came back to the world.

Legs standing over me. A rough tongue against my cheek.

As my vision refocused, I saw that Coop was straddling me, hackles raised, eyes fixed on the dunes.

“Good boy,” I rasped.

Coop’s gaze dropped for a moment. Another quick face lick.

Then he snapped back to attention, growling as he scanned for threats.

My brain slowly reassembled. I nudged the wolfdog aside and rose to my knees.

A deep breath as I worked the cobwebs out, then I stood.

Reality came crashing home.

Someone had attacked me. Here. On Morris Island.

Miles from anywhere a stranger should be.

Facts molded into conclusions.

I’d been targeted. There was no other reasonable explanation. Not for an attack on this deserted beach, at this late hour. Not out here in the middle of nowhere.

Coop nuzzled my side. I knelt, hugged him close.

“You saved me, dog face.” Kissing his snout. “My hero, for real.”

Coop took a step forward, then winced.

“You okay, pal?” I ran my hands along his sides, then down his legs. When I touched his left forepaw he yelped and stepped back.

I gripped his collar. “Let me see, boy.”

Gently, I examined the paw. Two nails were smashed, and there was some mild swelling. A small gash ran along one side, cutting into the pad beneath.

Coop whined as I probed, but I held firm.

“Nothing broken, but it looks painful as hell.” I glanced left, then right, assessing our position. It was another two hundred yards to the townhouses.

“We’ll take it slow.” Stroking Coop’s head with my hands.

I thought about the assailant returning. Recalled the ripping sound, and cries of pain.

Coop gave worse than he got. That bastard is probably still running.

We covered the next hundred yards at a glacial pace. Coop was favoring his leg, and with each passing step I worried he’d need a trip to Dr. Abendroth.

Get home. Get inside. Get safe.

Then Coop froze.

His body tensed as his head swung toward the dunes.

Eyes wide. Ears erect and forward. Coop bared his teeth and growled.

I crouched beside him. My eyes darted to the lights of my complex just ahead.

Should I scream? Would anyone hear me?

In the gloom of the island’s interior, six glowing circles appeared.

Red. Quarter-sized. Floating in close-set pairs.

As I watched two spheres vanished, then reappeared a dozen yards away.

I stood very still, spellbound.

The paired lights inched closer. I heard the slightest shifting of sand.

Abruptly it hit me.

Eyes.

Three pairs, spread out among the dunes.

The realization chilled my blood.

In all my life, I’d never seen red eyes like that. Not on any creature.

Coop lunged forward, barking wildly. Then he yelped as the injured paw took his weight.

The scarlet orbs stopped moving. Hovered in the blackness.

I stared. They stared back.

Coop went ballistic. On three legs, he began limping toward the dunes, howling and baying at the silent red circles. Ropes of saliva dripped from his jaws.

Floodlights flickered on at our complex. One. Then another. Then a third.

Each successive halogen dispelled more of the shadows.

As the illumination spread our way, the eyes vanished.

The beach felt suddenly empty. I counted to ten. Nothing reappeared.

Whatever had been watching was gone.

• • •

“Everything okay, honey?”

Kit was standing on our front stoop. “What’s gotten into Cooper?”

“He hurt his paw.”

My voice trembled. I hoped Kit would attribute its shakiness to concern for my pet.

“Poor guy.”

Kit stepped down and took a quick look. “Yikes. How’d you manage that one, fella?”

He was clubbed, protecting me from a masked attacker.

“Coop stumbled by the rocks.”

Kit eyed the stairs, then, squaring his shoulders, lifted the wolfdog and carried him up.

“
Oof.
What are we feeding you? Dinosaurs?”

Kit muscled Coop into the house and over to his doggie bed. Then he collapsed to the floor, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Note to self,” Kit panted. “This dog is too big for carrying.”

Cooper licked his face.

I stood by the stairs, unsure what to do. A part of me knew I was still in shock.

I’d been attacked.

My powers had nearly killed me.

And then strange . . .
something
had stalked me in the darkness.

Unless I’m hallucinating. Oh, crap, am I hallucinating?

“Kiddo?” Kit was watching me. “You okay? I don’t think his paw is broken. Rest and ice oughta do the trick.”