Tired after the long drive from Seattle, Warner felt his apprehension rise as they passed the old hemlock. Scanning the primitive road ahead, he was unable to avoid what had become a secret recurring fear at each arrival to the property. What if the gate’s down again?
Reclining in the passenger seat, Kendra napped, despite Bella’s refusal to give his wife more room by joining Sylvia in the back seat. In her usual spot, the dog straddled the console and intently watched the outside scenery pass, as if it was her own private matinee. It’s not like she hasn’t seen that movie a hundred times….
The truck reached the driveway and Warner relaxed—the ‘PRIVATE PROPERTY’ sign still swung undisturbed from the center of the chain gate.
An hour later, the four were relaxing in the living room in front of a fire that popped and crackled in the stove. A mellow glow from a nearby wall sconce glinted off their empty wine glasses. While Warner shared the loveseat with Kendra, Sylvia reclined in the padded leather seat across from them, beside the stove. Bella lay at Sylvia’s feet. After their brief ‘end-of-drive’ chat, the small family became peacefully quiet.
“I’m turning in,” Sylvia said after a few moments, stiffly sitting forward.
“So soon?” Kendra asked.
“Well, my dear,” Sylvia said, “I’m not a spring chicken like you, and I don’t have the benefit of the lovely nap you enjoyed earlier. Besides, we have a lot of decorating to do before Troy arrives on Thursday.” She smiled to herself. “He’s going to be amazed by our old-time Christmas.” Sylvia pushed herself up from the chair and turned toward Kendra. “My only wish is that you could be here with us.”
“Me too. If things work out, this should be the last holiday I miss.”
Sensing her own bedtime, Bella roused from her rag-dog sprawl and arched her back in a stretch. The nub on her butt stood erect, as if she still had a tail.
Kendra looked at the dog and wrinkled her nose. “Bella smells awful. When was the last time that mutt had a bath?”
“I took her to the river last weekend. Is she that bad?” Warner asked, while rising to give his mother a goodnight hug.
“I can’t smell her,” Sylvia said.
“Well I can. You should give her a bath tomorrow,” Kendra said.
Everyone exchanged goodnights and Warner watched his mother amble down the hallway to her bedroom before dropping back onto the loveseat beside his wife. “Since when did you become so interested in Bella’s hygiene?” Warner asked, tilting his head with a puzzled expression.
-- : --
Leaning sideways, Kendra snuggled close to her husband. Should I tell him now? She pressed her face into his chest to hide her excitement. No… it’s too soon to be certain. And the last thing I want to do is to get his hopes up in case it’s a false alarm. Her smile wavered as her nausea returned—bringing with it the memory of her traumatic day last spring.
What are the chances that bastard is outside watching now? It’s been over nine months since the break-in—almost a year. We could have had a family by now. She tightened her arms around Warner’s sides and shivered.
“You cold?” Warner asked. “I can put more wood on the fire.”
“Just hold me for a while,” she said. I refuse putting our life off any longer. That’s like letting ‘him’ win. I’ll show the bastard how tough I am. Her fear retreated and the excited anticipation of sharing the news with her husband returned. Admit it—you can’t wait ‘til Christmas. I’ll retake the test in the morning and then tell Warner.
“It’s time for bed,” she said, giving him a tender kiss.
-- : --
A shadowy form crept along the side of the Renshaws’ cabin, keeping well within the darkness created by the overhanging eaves and the quarter moon. Easing to the corner, the silent intruder paused before slipping around to the rear. As if in slow motion, first the shadow and then the form crept onto the wooden deck. In tandem, they reached the edge of the large picture window outside Sylvia’s bedroom. Peering through the red sheer-curtains, the intruder watched the sleeping elderly woman within.
Good—she’s alone.
-- : --
Warner’s heart leapt to the ceiling as the muffled alarm coming from the motion detector’s receiver mounted inside the stair closet startled him awake. Kendra snored softly beside him before rolling onto her side and pulling the covers with her.
Bella imperceptibly lifted her head. And you were supposed to be a watch-dog. Yeah, right. You’re just lazy.
Through a fog of sleep, Warner checked his watch lying on the small bedside table. It was nearly midnight. He staggered out of bed, careful not to disturb Kendra, and grabbed the flashlight he always kept nearby.
Out the small window, he saw taillights blinking near the gate before bright headlights dropped into the brushy road beyond the property. After the unknown car passed, the forest quiet returned along with the blue-tinged shadows from the moon. Friday night—could it be kids out drinking?
When the twin beams receded beyond a thick stand of Sitka willow and black cottonwood trees closer to the river, Warner set down the flashlight, climbed back into bed, and propped himself up against the wall to wait. How long will those kids stay down there?
Ten minutes later, Warner drifted off to sleep.
-- : --
The faint sound of a car engine wakened Warner from his upright slumber. Crawling out of bed once more, he retrieved the flashlight and groggily stumbled through the dark downstairs. Unable to shake the feeling that the light would attract the very attention he hoped to avoid, he waited to switch on the flashlight.
Climbing the stairs to the loft, he stopped in front of the large picture window that faced the road. A car drove up the slope from the river, its headlights lighting the top of the tall cedar trees near the gate.
Warner turned his head toward the sound of the muffled motion-alarm as the car passed the sensor and headed back up the road. Relief washed over him when the vehicle moved beyond the old hemlock—until it made a tight circle in the clearing before the property and stopped. The car’s high-beams flashed onto the dark cabin and Warner’s chest constricted.
Reversing, the car eased in beside a small stand of trees bordering the road and the headlights went dark. A moment later, a single penlight exited the driver’s side door.
This is so not good. There’s only one reason to park that car behind those trees—to hide.
The small light bobbed along the dark road and marked the trespasser’s progress. Warner’s body vibrated with a fight or flight response. The light—and the intruder—approached the gate.
The alarm sounded again and Warner stood even more alert. The distant light bounced as the one holding it jumped the chain gate. He’s heading for the workshop. Warner’s blood chilled as he watched from the dark loft. I have to stop the bastard before he gets near Kendra or Mom. Can I run him off without Kendra or Mom finding out?
Despite not wanting to take his eyes from the scene, Warner turned and raced down the stairs, two steps at a time. Dashing around the corner into the dark hallway beside the kitchen, he rushed through to his bedroom. Startling Bella, he motioned for the dog to stay, and then pulled on his house slippers and grabbed his hunting knife. He checked the lock on the outside door of their bedroom.
“What’s… what’s wrong?” Kendra’s voice was hoarse and sleepy.
“Nothing—there’s a bear at the workshop,” he lied. “Stay here while I run it off.”
Kendra bolted upright, wide-eyed. “Really?” She brushed the hair out of her face and then peered closer at her husband. “It’s not a bear—is it?” Panicked, she cried, “Oh God, he’s back!”
“Go in with Mom.” He smiled weakly and touched her cheek. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” I have to get out there before they reach the house.
Rushing into Sylvia’s room next door, he checked her outside door. Unlocked—thought I bolted that? After relocking the door, he hurried to his mother’s bedside.
“Mom!” he whispered loudly, shaking her shoulder. When she mumbled, he shook her shoulder with more force. “Wake up—someone’s here.”
“I’m… awake,” she whispered, shuffling up to lean against her thick pillows.
“Kendra will be here in a second. Stay inside—and stay quiet.”
Hurrying into the living room, he heard soft footsteps following him and whirled around with his fist pulled back. Bella plodded into the room to collapse on the rug with her head on her paws.
“Stay here, girl.” Glancing at the unobstructed view through the French doors without seeing movement, Warner slipped outside with the flashlight still dark. Better if I see him before he sees me.
Standing outside in the shadows against the cabin, Warner stared toward the dim outline of the workshop in the distance and expected to see a penlight approaching. The shop remained dark except for the faint blue-tint of moonlight.
Did he already bust into the workshop?
Riveted by the danger of his hunt, Warner listened intently, oblivious to the cold; all was silent except for the whisper of a breeze rustling the treetops. Every muscle in his body trembled in anticipation of the approaching confrontation. Stalking past the dark bulk of his truck, he reached the corner of his mother’s bedroom and scanned the darkness ahead.
Where’d the guy go?
Warner’s muscles felt strained, like a bent branch destined to whip forward or break. A flicker of light reflected off the corner in front of him.
The bastard’s at the cabin!
-- : --
Standing beside Sylvia, Kendra tightened the sash of her black satin robe. The pinch at her waist did nothing to distract her as she pressed back against the closet in borderline hysteria. He came back for me! I should have done what he told me to do… he said he’d know.
While she and Sylvia watched, a large dark shadow with a small light stole across the yard, heading toward the cabin.
“Where’s Warner?” Kendra whispered.
“He went out the front. I thought he was going to stop him at the workshop,” Sylvia replied.
“You don’t think something happened, do you?”
“Let’s hope not, dear.”
Through the sheer curtains, the two women watched the intruder step onto the wooden deck in front of the large bedroom window. When the man cupped his hand over his eyes to peer inside, Kendra gasped and raised her hand to her mouth.
“It’s him!” she cried with a renewed terror. What about our baby!?
-- : --
Bracing himself, Warner peered around the corner of the cabin and saw a large man with a wrestler’s build standing at his mother’s bedroom window. He wore a black jacket, with the word NASCAR across the back and a black ball cap. Is this the guy that broke into us before? The man leaned forward to shine a penlight into the room. At that moment, Warner charged around the building like a cornered bear defending its cub. Slamming his forearm into the startled man’s chest, Warner knocked him off balance.
“Get the hell away from my home!” Warner snarled.
The intruder stumbled backward off the deck, spluttering in surprise before catching himself like a predatory cat. Shifting into a seasoned fighting stance, the man’s left hand gripped the penlight while his right arm, cocked, was ready to strike.
Warner suddenly switched on his flashlight and spotlighted the man’s face, whose eyes squinted back with a stunned expression.
“You!” Warner yelled. Crap, it’s the redneck that whipped my ass two years ago.
A few inches taller and pounds heavier than Warner, the man rippled with power. With the advantage of surprise on Warner’s side, he positioned himself between the man and his mother’s room while tightening the grip on his knife. Then he noticed a dark object hanging from the man’s hip.
He’s got a gun!
-- : --
A shadowy form shifted further to the left of the small stand of young hemlock trees behind the cabin. From the better vantage, Lina watched Warner confront Luke at the rear of the cabin.
Finally! Luke’s gonna take our place back!
Too distant to distinguish the men’s words, she was able to catch the angry tones. Then, seeing the look of surprise on Luke’s face, her thrill subsided. As the standoff continued, she began to have doubts.
“Why don’t Luke do something?” Lina whined softly.
She felt a sudden tingle of excitement. Maybe he tried the trailer and then came looking for me, like he done before with mama? Now he don’t think I’s here.
-- : --
Holding his ground, Warner brandished his knife and prepared for the worst. Gun or no gun, you’re not getting to my family.
“How dare you set foot here again!” Warner stomped forward half a step and the intruder took a full step backward. “What the hell you want in the middle of the damn night?” he demanded.
“What… did she…,” the man stammered. “I… I broke down and was looking for help.” Squinting in the glaring light, he raised an arm to shade his eyes.
Uncertainty crept over Warner. Did this guy really break down? His momentary doubt passed. “The hell you say,” Warner yelled. “I watched you hide your damn car behind the trees.”
“Lighten up, man.”
Out of the corner of Warner’s eye, he saw his mother shine a flashlight out her window. When the thief looked toward Sylvia, Warner’s emotions fell into turmoil. I have to stop this now! We might not be so lucky next time. His anger surged and he clenched his jaw. I’m sick of this bastard scaring my family and robbing us without any consequence.
“You really need help? Then what’s your name?” Warner took another threatening step toward the man. He’s not leaving ‘til I find out who he is.
The thief took a step back and began retreating through the grass, heading toward the driveway and escape.
“Tell me your name!” Warner demanded, following close. Keeping the flashlight on the man, he readied his knife. He may be strong, but by damn I’ll take him down if I have to.
The man continued moving away, but seeing that Warner was not giving up he relented.
“Bruce,” the man said, looking over his shoulder with an odd twist to his mouth.
“Bruce what?”
“Bruce Glandon.”
Glaring at the thief—is that really his name?—Warner said the only thing he could think of, “Get the hell off my property before I kick your ass!”
“You think you’re something with that knife right now. Well, you ain’t a big shot. And you don’t belong here neither. I’ll be back—count on it.” Turning, the thief stepped onto the drive leading to the gate and quickened his pace. Warner was trailing ten paces behind the man when they reached the workshop and a large hulk separated itself from the shadows.
Oh, shit! There’s two of them!
-- : --
Hidden within the stand of young hemlock trees behind the cabin, Lina pressed close to the large cedar tree stump. The smell of decay from the reddish-brown wood filled the crisp air around her, while her high enhanced the excitement of the confrontation she was witnessing at the cabin. When the two men began a tense retreat toward the workshop without as much as a single blow, disappointment settled over her.
Glancing toward the cabin, she saw Sylvia’s outline standing in the center of the picture window beside the door. The older woman’s flashlight created a faint blood-red halo through the sheer curtains. Lina’s joy soured and she shivered, but not from the cold.
What’s Sylvia doing inside Luke’s bedroom? She trying to take my Luke like Holly done?
-- : --
Watching the second, larger man step out from the shadows beside the workshop, fear dowsed Warner’s fight reflex and rekindled a jittery desire to flee. I might have taken one man down, but I don’t stand a chance against two. The grip on his knife became clammy. What’s Kendra feeling right now? After her reaction to the break-in last spring, how will she ever get over this? A knot formed in his stomach and he knew the advantage had shifted. What would Dad do? Deciding to hold his ground, he spread his arms in preparation. If they try anything, I swear at least one of them won’t make it home—and the other won’t forget me. Bracing himself, Warner stepped forward, surprised when the two men retreated from the glint of his long hunting knife. Good, don’t let ‘em see you’re scared.
“Get out of here!” Warner shouted.
Appearing big and rowdy despite his pasty flushed complexion, the new man winced, having blended into the shadows in an olive-green jacket, over-sized blue jeans, and a Steelers’ black-and-silver stocking cap pulled down over his eyebrows. Is that hat some kind of stupid thief humor? Then Warner’s eyes widened. I’ve seen that hat before. It’s the boon-fricking-docks boy.
“Kolt?” Warner asked.
“Told you to stay in the goddamn car!” the other man said, shoving the larger boy into motion.
Hunching his shoulders, Kolt clutched something to his chest and guiltily eyed Warner, before falling into step beside his partner. Warner followed fifteen steps behind.
What’s the boy carrying, something from my workshop? No way to know without rushing them—and I’m not doing that now.
“Why are you doing this after we helped you?” Warner asked.
Kolt’s face twisted as he looked at the other man. Continuing their retreat, they picked up the pace with Kolt lumbering behind two steps. Trailing the two men, Warner kept them in the light’s beam and maintained enough distance to avoid a surprise rush. When they reached the curve in the drive, Warner’s frustration and anger returned. They’re going to get away with it—again! He glanced toward where they were heading. Unless I backtrack across the yard and beat them to their car. With their names and a license plate, the sheriff can put these jerks away.
He turned back to look at Kolt and felt sadness. How does a boy like him get caught up in something like this? And where’s his family?
Keeping the light on the two men, Warner fell back before cutting across the grass to stay between the thieves and the cabin—and my family. Passing the corner of his home, he heard a sudden commotion within, followed by loud barking. Now she starts yammering—at me! Worthless mutt!
When the two men reached the gate, they broke into a run, forcing Warner to race to the corner of the property. Dashing over the wild grass, he scuttled through the brush and snagged a slipper in the thicket. Without stopping to retrieve it, he reached the gravel road with one bare foot. He was too late. The thieves had closed the distance and were fast approaching behind. Side-by-side, they eyed Warner in suspicion as they closed within twenty feet of him.
Shining the flashlight full on ‘Bruce’s’ face, Warner tried to lock the man’s likeness in his memory. Kolt turned his head away. I already know who you are, pal. The boy pressed something out of view against his left leg. That’s not what he had clutched against his chest. A weapon? Must be a crow bar. After the two men rushed past, Warner stepped onto Wa-Wilkin Road to follow.
“Kolt,” Warner called, “don’t believe anything this jerk says.”
The other man glared over his shoulder at Warner.
“What would your family think about what you’re doing?” Warner added. The boy cringed. Bull’s eye.
The two thieves dashed across an open space, while Warner followed part way into the clearing. When the two men reached their car, Warner shined his flashlight on a black Plymouth Neon but was still too distant to discern the characters on the license plate.
Recalling the frightened look on his wife’s face, Warner’s desperation to have something solid to tell the sheriff increased. Stepping closer, he reached the center of the open space and stared warily at the Neon. Straining to make out the license plate, he heard the engine kick into life, followed by a roar as the gas was floored.
Too late, Warner realized his mistake and braced for impact as the car leapt forward, directly toward him.