Runner's Moon Trilogy Megabook Series (48 page)

"A silver Eagle sedan."

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"A silver Eagle sedan," Hannah relayed. "Yeah. No, we don't have any idea when she'll be here. But I'm pretty sure she'll stop somewhere to ask for directions to our place. Once she hits town we can call her on our phone. Yeah. Okay.

Thanks so much, Wendy. 'Bye." She flipped the phone closed with a grin. "All right. Easy part's done. Now what?"

Simon smiled back. "Now we rest and hope Pycee orders his men back to the mill tonight."

"And hope they don't get away from us this time," Jebaral added.

"They won't," Simon assured him with a harder tone of voice. "They crossed the line last night. Now they have to answer for what they did to you."

Before the couple could respond, he left the bedroom for the living room, where he could lie on the couch and hopefully catch a few hours of sleep. It was rough enough dealing with what had almost happened to his brother. Now he had the extra problem of Sarah coming to town.

He could only hope one issue would be resolved before the other demanded a solution.

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It was a little after one in the morning when Sarah slowly drove past the WELCOME TO TUMBRIL HARBOR. THIS COULD

BE YOUR HOME, TOO! sign. Her head ached, her eyes burned, and a few times she had almost fallen asleep at the wheel.

She'd stopped only three times during the trip, twice for gas and a pit stop, and once to grab something to eat, which she'd consumed on the road.

That last stretch of road between Silveyton and Tumbril Harbor, a forty-eight-mile series of loop-de-loops that would rival any roller coaster, almost didn't end. It wasn't until she found the Route 101A sign that she breathed a sigh of relief.

Keeping well below the posted speed limit, she tried to spot someplace that was open this time of the night. Even a bar or a dance hall would be acceptable. But she held out little hope. Sarah admitted to herself that she would be lucky to find a motel where she could spend the night.

What she really wanted was to find a place with a pay phone or a phone book. Surely there was someone who knew Jeb or Hannah or Roni or—

The Sheriff's office.

Yeah, that's right! Simon had told her Thom worked for the Sheriff's department. And the Sheriff's office never shut down. Someone was on duty twenty-four-seven. Sarah congratulated herself on her revelation, despite the fact that her thinking had slowed to mush. Now all she had to do was 665

find out where the Sheriff's office was located. How big was Tumbril Harbor anyway?

As if a genie had answered her wish, she passed a city limits sign. TUMBRIL HARBOR, pop. 2133. The dense trees suddenly moved back. She passed a parking lot, another thick grove, and over to the right she spotted a motel consisting of several cute little cottages. There was a vacancy sign below the one that read Harvest Moon Motor Lodge. Unfortunately, the office was dark. Closed for the night.

However, on the next block, she spotted a phone booth.

Pulling up next to it, she crawled painfully out of her seat and hobbled over to the glass box. A weak light came on overhead when she closed the bifold door.

The phone book couldn't have been bigger than a TV

Guide. There was no listing for Jeb Morr, as she expected, but she found the address and phone number of the Russup County Sheriff's Office. Opening her cell phone, she paused one more time. She had tried five other times on the way up to reach Simon, always getting the same result—his voice mail box. Yet she knew deep in her heart he wasn't in any danger. How she knew, she had no unearthly idea. But it wouldn't hurt to try again, she told herself.

"—You have reached the—"

She ended the call and punched in the number to the sheriff's office.

"Russup County Sheriff's Department. How can I help you?"

The voice was female and all business. And live. After taking a deep breath, Sarah said, "Hello. My name is Sarah 666

Drumman. I just got into town, and I'm trying to find my ...

my fiancé." It was funny how the admission didn't bother her.

After all, hadn't Simon already informed his boss he was marrying her? They just were going about the whole process a little differently than usual. Hell. Sarah grinned. Their entire courtship was a new one for the books.

"Is there a reason why you're trying to find him?" the woman asked. In a town this small, Sarah figured the woman might also be working dispatch as well as manning the switchboard. At least it wouldn't surprise her if she was.

"Well, we're from Templeton. He got a call from his brother who lives here. He came in this morning because of some family emergency." She gave a weak laugh and pulled her fingers through her hair. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I have this feeling in my gut that something's wrong. I've tried calling his cell phone, but it always goes to voice mail."

"Have you tried phoning the brother?"

"I don't have his number," Sarah told her. "It's a cell number, too, and it's not listed."

"You said his brother lives here in Tumbril Harbor?"

"Yes. His brother's name is Jeb Morr. He works—"

"Oh, I know Jeb! Yeah, sure!" The woman's voice instantly changed tone. Gone was the brusque, all business voice.

Replacing it was a warm, neighborly quality that eased Sarah's mind. "You're whose fiancée again?"

"His brother, Simon Morr."

"Gee, I didn't know he had a brother. A sister, yes."

"That's their adopted sister. Tiron. They call her Roni,"

Sarah supplied.

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"Yeah. I know her, too. Her husband Thom DeGrassi is one of our deputy sheriffs. Hey, hold on a sec, would you?"

In the background Sarah could hear the woman relaying information through the dispatch. A moment later she overheard, "Base to Six. Base to Six. Hey, Thom, can you read? What's your twenty? Over." There was a pause. "Base to One. Base to One. Sheriff, do you read? Over."

There was a shuffling noise as the woman returned to the phone. "They went on stand-by a little while ago. I thought maybe they would be back online by now. Guess not."

"They're both working tonight?"

"Yeah. Taking the graveyard shift. Where are you right now?"

Sarah looked around. "I'm in a phone booth down the street from a motor lodge."

"The Harvest Moon. Okay, I know exactly where you are.

Look, I can't give you Jeb and Hannah's phone number. You understand, don't you? But I can give you directions to their place. Right now you're on the spur. Keep heading toward town, and you'll reach Main. Turn left. You can't miss it. It'll be the first light you come to."

Sarah glanced down the road. In the distance she could see a pinpoint of light. A red light. No, now a green light. It was the traffic signal on Main. "Okay. Then what?"

"After about six miles you'll come to Mill Road. Hang a right. About a quarter of a mile down Mill Road will be a little dirt cut-off to your left. Be careful or you'll miss it. It's not marked. That road goes straight to their cabin about another half-mile in. It should take you maybe ten minutes to get 668

there. If you miss the cut-off, you'll end up at the lumber mill.

I'll keep trying to reach Thom and Sheriff Klotsky to let them know you're here."

"Thank you. I really appreciate your help," Sarah said. One final burst of energy was seeping into her system. One final surge of strength to help her reach her destination. And then she could collapse, hopefully in Simon's arms, and spend the rest of the night sleeping to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

"If you have any trouble, just call me back, okay?"

"I got it, Miss..."

"Call me Summer. Good luck, Miss Drumman."

"Call me Sarah," she giggled.

"All right, Sarah. Drive safely." The woman hung up as Sarah ended the call.

No more than ten minutes, the woman had said. Sarah glanced at her watch. It was nearly one-thirty in the morning.

She couldn't remember the last time she had stayed up this late. Eleven was usually her bedtime, right after the evening news.

The stretch out of the car helped to revive her enough to clear her head. Her eyes still watered from the strain of driving such a long distance, but she was so close to her goal now that the aches and pains no longer mattered.

After sliding back under the steering wheel, she followed the road to the intersection and the signal light. Turning left, she began to keep an eye on her odometer, clocking off tenths of a mile. There hadn't been any traffic other than herself for the past hour. She had begun to feel like the only 669

person left alive on the planet until she spoke with Summer at the sheriff's office.

Just prior to the gauge reaching the third tenth of a mile, Sarah saw a green sign reading MILL ROAD, with an arrow pointing to the right. She turned onto the tarmac and began watching for a dirt path, hoping she would spot it with the headlights. It wasn't long before she realized she had missed the cut-off, and she cursed herself. It was late, she was exhausted, the night was pitch black out here in the middle of nowhere, and she had no idea how to get where she needed to go. Furthermore, there was no way she could turn around and go back, not on this one-lane road that had no shoulders.

No, she would just have to go to the mill and hope there was a place to turn around there.

She debated for a moment whether to call the sheriff's office again but decided to give herself one last chance. No sense making a total fool out of herself if she could help it.

The road was pitted in places. She tried to swerve and avoid the worst postholes. The edge of the road sloped sharply down into drainage ditches. If she was to meet a logging truck bearing a full load and going toward town, she had no doubt as to who would end up in the ditch.

The distance seemed to go on forever. She was just about ready to stop and see if she couldn't swing around by taking tiny baby steps when several amber colored lights appeared up ahead. As she neared the mill she could see more lights.

There were also a couple of cars and pickups parked in a lot beside a giant building.

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"Oh, thank goodness the mill runs twenty-four hours a day!" Sarah breathed aloud. If a second or third pass failed to find the elusive side road to Jeb's place, surely someone who worked here could either give her better directions or maybe even lead her directly to the house.

The road also widened considerably, giving her ample room to turn around right in front of the tall gate. She drove the car a little ways past the gate where the tarmac had been expanded into what appeared to be a visitor's parking area.

Putting it into reverse, she pressed down on the accelerator to back up, when the car lurched and died.

"Crap. Now what?"

Shifting back into neutral and holding down the brake, she tried to restart the motor. The little engine light came on, and the car growled ominously.

Just. Great.

Throwing the gear into park, she turned off the motor and stared at the dark forest surrounding her. With the silence growing louder she could make out sounds nearby and in the distance that she couldn't identify. Worse still, if she allowed her imagination to run free, the tall pines seemed to draw closer and closer to the mill, like an advancing army of evergreens moving one millimeter at a time.

Wearily she got out of the car and turned to look at the lights shining from the other side of the gate. The tall, almost barricade-looking wall was too formidable for her to climb.

But where the entrance was she would have no trouble walking in.

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Grabbing her purse and cell phone, Sarah started for the lumber mill, hoping to find someone who could help at this ungodly hour of the night. She didn't care if it was the janitor.

Just as long as she could finally find the Morr cabin so she could cuddle up next to Simon for the rest of the night. She'd worry about apologies after the sun rose.

If the mill worked around the clock, Sarah couldn't see any sign of activity. Maybe everyone was inside where it was brighter. Surely lumberjacks, or whoever worked in places like this were called, surely they didn't chop wood or fell trees after dark. She easily managed to squeeze through the gate.

Obviously the tall chain mesh wall was there more to stop vehicles than pedestrians.

The closer she got to the larger building, the clearer she could see that the lights she had previously believed were on inside were actually outside flood lights. Every window was dark. The walkways and outer yard were empty.

A sudden flash out of the corner of her eye got her attention. To her left was a smaller building adjacent to the larger one she had been heading for. A large multi-pane window to the right of the doorway glowed with light.

Someone was inside, probably working late, which would explain at least one of the cars and trucks parked nearby.

She was halfway across the short gravel yard when a feeling of icy dread crept down her spine. Sarah halted, stunned by the sickly roiling in her stomach that accompanied the bone-chilling cold. What had brought that on? She held a hand to her forehead, but she didn't feel overly warm to the touch. There was no fever present. At least none that she 672

could tell. It had been a helluva day—and most of the night—

-and it wasn't over yet. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and gave a quick shake of her head. She would be worried if she weren't feeling queasy.

Apparently the sickly feeling wasn't going to go away anytime soon. The last thing she needed, though, was to barf all over the driveway in a strange place more than five hundred miles from home and at a time of the night when decent people were home in bed.

A glance in the window revealed computers, desks, and filing cabinets. It was an office of some sort, and that perked up her hopes considerably. An office contained information like phone numbers and addresses. If she couldn't get better directions on how to get to the Morr residence, they would definitely have a phone number where he could be reached.

And if the lights were on, it meant someone was inside.

Someone who was putting in some overtime or maybe worked graveyard who could help.

Security.

Of course! Places like this had to have guards posted after hours. Sarah gave herself a little mental slap across the temple. God, she was losing it. How stupid not to think about security. That's what this little office had to be. It had to be where the security guards kept their pot of coffee going while they did their rounds of the yard and mill.

She strode up to the door and pounded loudly on it with the side of her fist. "Hello! Hello! Is someone there who can help me? I need help! Hello?" She banged again on the door again, then paused to listen for any sound or movement 673

inside. Surely the guards weren't all out on patrol. "Hello! Can someone help me?"

She grabbed the latch handle and pushed. When the door wouldn't budge, she tried to pull. The door was locked.

Groaning softly, she walked over to the window and peered inside, cupping her hands around her eyes to see in more clearly. The lights might have been on, but there wasn't a soul inside.