Return To Falcon Ridge. Rita Herron
he’d find out exactly why she was on the run.
PANIC SEIZED ELSIE as she tore down the drive from Bodine’s. Deke Falcon was a P.I. Who did he work for? And why had he come looking for her?
Could he possibly know about the fire ten years ago? Or some of the things she’d done after she’d left Wildcat Manor?
Had her past finally caught up with her?
Dear God, no. She had done bad things, but she was trying to make amends. She wanted to help others now. Protect the troubled kids just as someone should have protected her.
The lush mountaintops surrounded her, the small side roads and valleys offering the possibility of a place to hide. She whipped her car onto a country road that led across the mountain, then cast a desperate glance over her shoulder to see if the man had followed her.
Deke Falcon? What did he want and who was he working for? It had been ten years since she’d set Howard Hodges on fire…since she’d left him to die. Why look for her now?
Hattie Mae’s death. Maybe the police had discovered something about his murder now that Hattie Mae was gone. But surely Hattie Mae wouldn’t have willed her the manor if she intended to call the police on her.
Maybe her guilt had gotten to her and she wanted to make her own amends before death.
The terrifying night she’d escaped with Torrie roared back, the horrid images replacing the majestic mountain view. She and Torrie had run for what had seemed like hours. Then she’d finally found a church and dropped off Torrie, hoping someone would save the girl and give her a better life. She’d been too afraid to stay herself, had figured the police would be on her tail.
Over the years, she’d wondered what had happened to Torrie. One reason she’d decided to go into social work.
A truck roared up, zooming close to her rear, and she sped up slightly, although the curve in the road veered deep to the right, and she crossed the center line. An oncoming car blasted its horn and Elsie overcompensated. Her tires screeched, wheels locking. She skidded on the icy pavement and said a silent prayer that her car wouldn’t nosedive over the barrier. The sludgy ice spewed from her tires, the gears grinding. But at the last moment, she regained control and eased it back between the lines.
Her heart racing, she glanced behind to see if the Falcon man trailed her, but once again didn’t spot him, so she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she’d lost him.
Only he didn’t look the type of man to give up. He was hard looking, tough, brusque, angry, a man who lived in the wilderness. His thick dark hair was overly long, and as untamed as a wild animal’s. Dark beard stubble roughened his bronzed skin, and his mouth was set tight, as if it had never seen a smile. And his hands…they were large, dark, callused…weapons he could use to force a woman to do whatever he wanted.
A shudder coursed up her spine.
If he hadn’t looked so intimidating, she would have called him handsome, but Elsie had learned long ago that men couldn’t be trusted. They took what they wanted, trampled on you, then sauntered away without a backward glance.
No, it was best she had run. But where should she go now?
Hattie Mae’s offer flirted with her subconscious. She’d been looking for a place to open a teen center when she’d come to Tennessee. But Wildcat Manor?
According to legends, Wildcat, Tennessee, had been dubbed the town of the damned for generations. Elsie had learned the hard way the reason for its name. The stories of ghosts and spirits that haunted the village. Of the wildcats who preyed on innocent girls, and the devil that lived in the woods. Some even gossiped that werecats roamed the area, hunting for prey.
The memory of the poor kids that she’d left behind rose to haunt her. The paper reported that all the children had survived. The orphanage had been disbanded after the fire, but she’d never been able to find out where the girls had gone.
If evil lived in the town, the people needed her to help expunge it. Maybe in doing so, she could absolve herself of the guilt that weighed on her conscience for leaving the other girls, for deserting Torrie, for her own sins….
A plan took shape in her mind. She would refurbish the place and offer hope to the young and troubled.
If she accomplished that miracle, maybe she could sleep peacefully without ghosts filling her dreams and the sounds of crying children echoing in her head, constantly torturing her. The clouds grew ominous, the wind whipping tree branches and dead leaves across the deserted mountain road as she headed toward Wildcat. Images of the monsters and overgrown wildcats popped in and out of her mind as if they were congregating in the woods to drive her away when she returned.
She clutched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip and perspiration dotted her face as she approached the town. Sleet slashed the windows, fogging the windshield and making the road slick with black ice. Whispers of danger floated through the air, and the daunting eyes of the devil as he waited for her return pierced the darkness.
Her nerves pinged as she parked at the deserted building. The stone structure looked even more macabre with weeds and vines climbing the sides. Burned and charred stone still covered the bottom floor wall, and the wildcat turrets flanking the massive front door practically growled into the wind. Icicles clung to the windows, hanging in jagged pointed tips that looked like swords.
Elsie’s throat closed. She had run from here once and had survived. If she stepped back inside, would she survive a second time?
Chapter Two
Deke had managed to stay behind Elsie without her noticing for the two-hour drive, but her frantic escape worried him. She obviously was terrified of him, or somebody. And she was in trouble….
Just what kind? Trouble with the law? With a man?
Either one would complicate his job.
Then again, maybe she’d confide in him once she learned his real reason for coming. But what if she didn’t want to see her mother? What had her father told her about Deanna?
Night had fallen as she’d turned into a mile-long driveway that climbed a curvy dirt road. Snow swirled in a blinding haze, fogging his windows and creating crystals of ice that clung to the glass. Not wanting Elsie to see him, he parked in the alcove of a cluster of pines, then walked the rest of the way up the drive. Wind clawed at his face and hands, the sound of a loud growl in the woods nearby alerting him that the forest could be dangerous to some. The birds of prey who were his friends. And others….
As he drew nearer the mansion, his skin crawled. That was no ordinary house. There had been tall metal gates at the entrance, although they’d been open, and an eight-foot electric fence surrounded the property as if it had once been a prison. The gray stone structure resembled a mausoleum with turrets and a spiked chimney. There were five of them actually. A smaller stone garage was attached, a gardener’s shed beside it connected by a path of overgrown weeds fighting through the snow and ice.
The sign, Wildcat Manor, indicated it had been an orphanage at one time. It had obviously been deserted for years. The boxwoods and shrubs were misshapen, weeds draped the porch and sides and a fire had burned the bottom floor caking the stone with black soot, worsened by decay and age.
What the hell was Elsie Timmons doing here?
The realization that this might have once been her home hit him in the gut. Geez, the place looked more like a funeral home than a loving place for children. Had her father kidnapped her, then left her here for some reason? Because he hadn’t wanted her, or had something happened to him?
Deanna’s anguished face flashed in his mind. If her husband had been alive and left Elsie here because he didn’t want her, Deanna Simmons had pined away for her daughter while the girl must have felt so alone…. And if he’d died, why hadn’t someone contacted Deanna? Why hadn’t Elsie tried to reach her mother over the years?
Elsie walked up the steps,