loaded up the feed trailer at the silo, and made a more efficient trip up to the herd. Normally he let them graze the pasture, but he needed them away from the fence line, so he deposited the feed well away from the sagging sections of fence. Tomorrow he’d move them to the northern pasture, which should give him a breather for a couple of days.
* * *
They thought he’d killed her.
He’d have found the idea of murdering Skye Colton amusing if it didn’t irritate him. Why hadn’t he thought of that himself? He could have. There had been plenty of opportunity, given his proximity to the friendliest and most outgoing of the Colton offspring.
Reason overruled him. Killing Sabrina Gilford had brought enough attention. Attention that included the FBI, and they were nobody’s fool. Better to play it safe. Stick to the plan. Remain where he was, in plain sight, watching every move the Coltons and Gilfords made.
Every day he listened to the worry, felt the barely retrained fear over Skye’s disappearance, the dead women he’d all but laid at their door. It fed him. Nourished him. Emboldened him. The tension gave him a particular kind of jolt, and wasn’t nearly as satisfying as squeezing the life out of those women. One after another after another.
Maybe...maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was time to strike harder, deeper, rip their hearts right out of their chests by eliminating their precious Skye. Maybe...
Tight lips stretched into a thin smile as he allowed himself to daydream watching the life drain out of those lively brown eyes. Pleasure shot through him like an intoxicant as his mind raced, settled. Planned.
Perhaps, he told himself as he offered a pleasant smile to the group of guests who passed by him on their way to The Chateau. Perhaps it was time he joined in the search for Skye Colton.
* * *
It was after noon before Leo wrapped the last coil of barbed wire hard and tight around the metal post. Wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, he tipped his hat back and surveyed the cattle in the distance. He hadn’t been far off base thinking they’d be up for testing the fence line, but for now, all was secure on the Slattery Ranch. As far as he knew, anyway.
He gathered his tools and the last of the wire, slung it all into the bed of his truck before drinking the last of the water in the cooler he kept. Even as he considered what should be done next, he rethought his to-do list. It had been a few days since he’d done a fence check on the west end of the property, but he had something more important in mind.
Which was why, after dropping off the feed trailer, he didn’t stop at the house. He kept driving. Right out the gate, off the property and onto the fifty mile road that would take him into town.
* * *
By the time the kitchen timer beeped for the fourth time, Jane gave up any hope of sleep.
“Probably part of his evil plan from the start.” She tossed off the quilt with a growl loud enough to startle Ollie, who did a quick spin and check to see if he’d missed an intruder.
“Just me, boy. Ready to strangle your owner.”
The German shepherd made an odd noise in the back of his throat. Jane froze halfway off the sofa, wondering just how much the dog actually understood. “What got your attention? My growl or the word owner?”
Ollie barked. Jane swore the animal grinned.
“At least one of us is having a good day.” She climbed off the sofa and trudged into the kitchen, pushing the button to silence the DEFCON 1 blaring that cut through her head like a knife. Maybe Leo was right. Maybe she should have her head checked out.
Or maybe she should just take another painkiller. She shook out a pill and downed it with a full glass of water. The view out the kitchen window was enough to take her breath away. The distant mountains provided the perfect country backdrop to the lush acreage and land stretching before her. With the barn and stable on the other side of the house, she could see far and wide, and memorized every curve, every hill, every...shadow.
Jane gasped and dropped to the floor. Ollie came over immediately and pushed his head against her chest as her heart pounded. She squeezed her eyes shut as fear roiled through her. The buzzing in her ears returned, blocking out rational thought as she tried to filter through what she’d seen in a glimpse. A man on horseback, along the top ridge of the property. Leo had taken his truck, hadn’t he? He hadn’t come back without telling her, right? Was she wrong? Was she imagining things?
Skin clammy, hands shaking, she gripped the edge of the sink and pulled herself up, peeking over the edge of the window ledge. Her gaze froze on the solitary figure on horseback turning one way, then the other. He was so far away that logically she knew he couldn’t see her. But she could see him. Who was it? Did Leo have someone on the ranch he hadn’t told her about?
She should have asked him. Stupid, stupid! She should have gotten all the information she could before urging him to leave. Not that she couldn’t protect herself.
Heart hammering in her throat, she pushed herself up, watching the figure as she blindly reached for the knife block on the counter.
She wrapped her hand around the thickest handle and pulled the carving knife free before ripping the curtain closed. She crouched on the floor again, knife clutched in her hands, close to her chest.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Jane whispered to herself, but the fear wouldn’t dissipate. Behind closed eyes, the flashing lights returned. Red. Blue. Bright. Blinding. The ghostly sound of heavy boots approaching had her crying out and darting to the other side of the kitchen, still crouched into as tight a ball as she could manage. She took long, deep breaths, coaxing herself to pry her eyes open, and when she finally did, she found she was alone. Other than Ollie, there was no one in the kitchen—just shadows and her own terror.
“No one knows you’re here. No one could.” But even as the words seeped out of her mouth, she knew she couldn’t believe it. She didn’t even know her own name let alone what anyone outside this house would or wouldn’t do.
She couldn’t take any chances. Here, alone, with no one to trust, she needed to feel safe. She kept low, moving along the edge of the cabinets until she reached the living room. Before she could talk herself out of it, she darted to the windows and pulled the drapes shut. Then she raced through the house and did the same in every room.
The Slattery house went dark and dormant. Ollie abandoned his stance by the door and followed her from room to room, a low concerned whine issuing from his throat. If dogs could speak, she had no doubt he was telling her to calm down. To try to relax and not worry that every person outside the house was the one responsible for hurting her and stashing her in that shed.
But she couldn’t stop. Not until she found the darkness again. The last room had no curtains. The bookshelf-lined study was both practical and elegant, with a heavy desk and an outdated desktop computer situated on top. She bypassed the array of files and papers, the opened mail and the stack of unattended envelopes in favor of the corner, where she dropped down and huddled. She struggled to breathe around the feeling that her lungs were going to explode, all the while hearing the intermittent pounding of footsteps and wailing sirens. Dim sunlight streamed in through the western-facing window.
Ollie inched toward her, lifting his paws onto her updrawn knees.
Her arms ached. Her fingers had gone numb around the hilt of the knife. But she wasn’t letting go. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Ollie blinked big, concerned eyes at her.
“It’s okay, boy,” Jane lied. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.” But she couldn’t do anything more than close her eyes and rest the back of her head against the array of books behind her. “He’ll be back soon. Leo will be back.” Leo. She forced the image of the ruggedly handsome cowboy into her mind, shoving away the darkness, the fear, and focused only on him. “Leo will be back.”
She wasn’t safe. Not here. Not inside. Not outside.
Whoever