Jenna Night - High Desert Hideaway

Except for one branch that remained still. Something about it didn’t look right.

Lily stared into the darkness for a moment. Slowly she realized she was looking at the outline of a man. Her breath caught in her throat. The man wasn’t outside the window. He was in the house. In the living room. Standing right there in the corner.

Her first attempt to scream came out as a ragged exhalation. Terrified, she felt as if she was caught in a nightmare, unable to make a sound. The man took a step out of the shadows, toward her, and she could see he was one of the men from the Starlight Mart. The one in the hoodie.

He was pointing a pistol at her. He glanced upstairs toward the blare of the TV, then turned back to her. “Don’t make a sound.”

“What do you want?” she asked, finally finding her voice.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

He motioned with his gun toward the back of the house, where the door in the utility room led outside. That was probably how he got in. Lily and her mom often left a window open in that room when they ran the dryer. And they were both bad about remembering to close it.

“Move!” Hoodie shoved her.

“I didn’t hear anything that could get you in trouble,” Lily said, taking a couple of stumbling steps while her heart hammered in her chest. “I just heard voices. Nothing specific.”

“Get moving or we’ll take your mother along, too.”

He wanted to get her outside and into a car. Lily couldn’t let that happen. It would be the end of everything.

He shoved her again. Edging toward panic, she reached for a potted plant on a shelf. If she flung something heavy against the wall and made a loud noise, maybe the dogs would hear it and start barking. Her mom would hear the racket and call the police.

Hoodie twisted her arm, hard, and she dropped the potted plant with a dull thud. So much for that plan.

They reached the utility room and she saw the open window. She also saw a mop propped against the wall. Hoodie loosened his grip slightly as he reached for the handle on the door leading outside. Lily took her chance. She kicked his knee. While he was off balance she grabbed the mop, whirled around and smacked him on the side of the head with it.

He dropped his gun. It clattered to the floor and they both reached for it. He jabbed an elbow toward her face, clipping her cheek, and she was knocked back. She dropped the mop. Then he got the gun.

Lily quickly crawled to a bucket of dry laundry detergent and grabbed a handful. Hoodie turned to her and she flung it into his face.

Cursing, he clawed at his eyes with one hand.

Afraid he might squeeze the trigger if she tried to grab his gun, Lily reached for the mop and struck him again. This time Hoodie slumped to the ground. He was out cold.

Footsteps pounded up the back porch steps. Nate must have been watching the house. Relief washing over her, Lily got to her feet and yanked open the door.

It wasn’t Nate standing there. It was the man who’d held a gun on her at the Starlight Mart. Lily’s heart sank. He had her again.

* * *

Nate crouched down low and crept alongside the house.

Lily’s mom had called 911. She’d reported strange noises in her house and that her dogs were growling. She was afraid someone had come after her daughter.

Nate was afraid of that, too. Dispatch had let him know what was happening and that the responding deputies were a couple minutes out. Nate knew better than to rush in, but he couldn’t just wait in his truck.

Peering around the corner of the house, he saw the gunman from the gas station on the back steps. He was holding Lily by the upper arm and dragging her out of the house. The terrified expression on her face struck Nate like a punch to his chest. Enough. Lily Doyle had been through enough. And that idiot holding her was not going to get away with what he’d done.

Nate had the advantage and he intended to make the most of it. The gunman wasn’t looking around. He probably thought he was home free. He did, however, have that gun. Trying to take a shot at him was too risky. Nate could miss and hit Lily. Or the gunman could shoot her.

Calm, cool, steady. That’s how Nate had to handle this.

At ease working in the shadows, he pressed into the side of the house and took one quiet step and then another. He covered the final short distance in a burst of speed. The gunman turned in surprise just as Nate grabbed his gun hand and landed a cross punch to the side of his head. The gunman dropped like a sack of wet sand.

Eyes wide and filled with fear, Lily swung her fists wildly. Nate had to duck a couple of times before she realized he wasn’t another attacker.

“Are you all right?” Nate asked when she finally stopped swinging. He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length while scanning her body for injuries.

“Someone’s in the house,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Utility room.”

Nate hesitated, reluctant to turn his back on the man he’d just knocked unconscious.

“My mom’s in the house, too,” Lily said, sounding panicky and tugging on his arm. “Hurry!”

Inside the house he found the man in the hoodie lying unconscious on the utility room floor.

“I hit him with the mop,” Lily said.

Nate felt the corners of his lips tug upward in an admiring grin. “Good work.” He picked up the man’s gun and tucked it into his back pocket. Lily got some twine out of a storage cabinet and Nate tied the man’s hands behind his back.

Two little dogs not much bigger than mosquitoes ran into the utility room from the living room. A uniformed deputy followed them. A woman wrapped in an afghan walked in behind the deputy.

“Honey, are you okay?” the woman asked Lily after a racking coughing fit.

“I’m okay, Mom.” Lily hugged her mom and then introduced her to Nate.

“Thank you for saving my daughter’s life,” Kate Doyle said. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but I’m fighting bronchitis.”

“I think your daughter saved her own life.” He turned to the deputy. “There’s another bad guy out back.”

“No, there isn’t.” A second deputy walked into the utility room through the back door. “Sorry, Nate. If you had somebody out there, he’s long gone. Probably jumped into the ravine and took off. We’ll start looking for him.” He walked off, speaking into his collar mic.

The man who’d held the gun on her at the store had gotten away. Again. Disgusted with himself, Nate shook his head.

One of the little mosquito dogs, the one with a tiny white blaze in the center of her chest, stepped up to sniff the hem of Nate’s jeans. Her bone-shaped metallic tag said her name was Abby. Nate reached down to give her a scratch on the head. When she rolled up her eyes to look at him, he was pretty sure she was disappointed in what she saw. Nate didn’t blame her.

The man in the hoodie started to stir. The uniformed deputy took off the twine and cuffed him, then patted him down. He found a folded switchblade in his back pocket and a keychain in the front pocket. That was it. No wallet. No ID. Not even a phone. He started to regain consciousness. Nate and the deputy pulled him to a sitting position.

“What’s your name?” Nate asked.

The deputy had already tugged back the man’s hood, revealing short curly brown hair, thick eyebrows and a soda can–sized bruise across the side of his face. He was maybe in his early thirties. Powdery white laundry detergent streaked his face and the front of his shirt. He squinted his red, watery eyes and frowned at Nate. “Who are you?” His gaze shifted nervously back and forth between Nate and the deputy. “You’re that guy who hit me with soda cans in the store.”

“Do you recognize this guy from anywhere?” Nate asked Lily. “Maybe you’ve seen him someplace other than work?” He turned to her and she shook her head. When he turned back to the thug, he saw him staring at Lily. The man’s confused scowl had morphed into a bold, predatory stare.