Return To Falcon Ridge. Rita Herron

Return To Falcon Ridge - Rita  Herron


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and fear warred with the need to hold her. His hand trembled. His pulse quickened. Sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his back.

      Suddenly, she jerked awake, eyes wide in the darkness, wild with confusion and fear. A shrill scream pierced the air when she saw him, and his instincts drove him forward. He pounced on the bed, covered her mouth with his hand, then shoved a pillow over her face. He desperately wanted to kill her. And he had to protect the secrets at Wildcat Manor.

      She squirmed and clawed at his hands, but he chuckled.

      No, killing her now would be too easy. She deserved to suffer.

      Yes, he’d draw it out, torment her, make her feel the pain for a while.

      Then he’d put an end to her….

      Chapter Three

      “Leave Wildcat Manor or die.”

      Panic pumped through Elsie. The man’s acrid breath brushed her ear, and he loosened his grip on the pillow slightly. “Let the dead rest in peace,” he murmured. “Or you’ll be one of them.”

      Icy fingers of fear tore up her spine, and she tried to wrench herself away. The years rolled back as if it had only been seconds since she’d run from Wildcat Manor.

      The devil was in the house and he’d come to get her. Unspeakable horrors awaited.

      He slid one hand down to her throat. His fingers dug into her skin, and Elsie summoned her fighter spirit. She’d found it the night she’d murdered Howard Hodges. And on the streets she’d practically become an animal.

      She had to act now. A second longer, and he would cut off her windpipe completely.

      Gathering her strength, she thrust her elbow up sharply, catching him in the ribs. He yelped and loosened his hold at the unexpected blow. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she spun around and stared at him, trying to see his face, but a long black cloak shrouded her view. He lurched forward, but she jabbed his eyes with her fingers, then rammed her fist into his belly. He bellowed in pain, grabbed her hair and yanked her head so hard pain rippled through her scalp. Then he flung her across the room. Like a beast, he shot toward her with a roar.

      She scrambled away, reached for the fire poker and swung it sideways at his legs. The metal end hit him in the groin, and he doubled over. She jumped to her feet and ran from the room, down the steps, nearly tripping in her haste.

      Outside, the wind howled and rain pounded the ground. She grabbed her purse and ran toward her car in her pajamas. Barefoot, the ice stung her feet, sharp pains knifing through her toes. Running as fast as she could, she jumped inside her car and locked the door. Her hands shook as she tried to insert the key. It jammed. Good grief, she had it upside down! She had to hurry!

      The roar from the porch bled through the haze of fear, and she glanced up to see the creature running toward her. She cried out and tried the key again, hands trembling. But this time she got it in and the engine sparked to life.

      He raced after her, his cloak billowing around him, but she gunned the engine and flew down the mountain.

      DEKE JERKED AWAKE with a start. Something was wrong. He sensed it.

      Rising quickly, he jerked on a pair of jeans, boots and a denim shirt, then grabbed his coat and headed into the wooded mountains. Were the birds of prey in danger? Were there werecats preying on others or was the old man senile?

      No, Elsie was in trouble.

      He’d felt an instant connection with her just as he did with some animals, as if his sixth sense told him they were now bonded.

      He considered driving straight to the orphanage, but decided he’d scare her to death if he appeared at her door this early. He could go in on foot, though, and watch the house. Wait for the sun to break through the clouds. Then pay her a visit.

      Snow and ice crunched beneath his feet as he hiked deep into the forest and climbed toward Wildcat Manor. Inhaling the fresh raw scent of pine and winter, he paused to check the area for any injured animals, but saw nothing. Yet he sensed the evil. The predators. That there might be wildcats hiding behind the trees, sneaking through the forest. Or hybrids—human animals…

      The uncanny feeling that Elsie was in danger here in Wildcat hit him again, this time so strong he began to jog.

      Nearby, animals scrounged for food in the bed of ice and dead leaves. The piercing eyes of a wild animal, maybe a bobcat or mountain lion, caused him to pause, and he searched the trees for predators. Was the old man at the motel right? Were there strange creatures in these woods? Was the devil really hiding behind the shadows of the caves and snow-laden trees?

      He came to a ridge that jutted out overlooking the valley, giving him a clear view of Wildcat Manor, which was only a quarter mile above him. He stepped onto the precipice, sensing the hollow emptiness below and the churning tide of tension in the area. Secrets. Evil. The town of the damned.

      He had to know what had happened here.

      He scanned the mountain property housing Wildcat Manor and glimpsed a swish of black feathers flying along the top of the house. Vultures. They squawked, falling into predator mode, circling and spiraling downward toward the chimney as if they had just found fresh fodder.

      His stomach clenched. Elsie. Years of honed instincts roared with the certainty that she was in trouble.

      Adrenaline kicking in, he sprinted up the hill. Veering between the massive trees and brush was second nature, expecting the worst a nightmare that dogged him daily. What if something had happened to Elsie last night? Or this morning?

      What if he’d misjudged her and she’d run again or someone had hurt her? What would he tell Deanna?

      He increased his pace, climbing higher, higher, ignoring the biting cold and brisk wind. He was one with the birds.

      The metallic taste of death sent a flood of bile to his throat. He had to hurry.

      PANIC ROLLED THROUGH Elsie in waves. Where could she go now? What should she do?

      The tremors intensified as she remembered the dark-cloaked attacker, but she quickly banished them. She was alive. She had fought him off.

      And she was going to survive. No one was going to scare her away.

      But she needed protection.

      She’d buy a gun today, install dead bolts on the doors and get the power connected so she wouldn’t have to live in the darkness.

      For now, she needed coffee to warm her and help her stop trembling. But she couldn’t go inside the town café wearing her pajamas. There was an all-night diner on the edge of town with a drive-through window. She headed toward it, slowing her pace as the rain intensified. Another car met her at the foot of the mountain, and she blinked, tensing as it approached. But the sedan flew by her, and veered onto another street that led to the river.

      Her breathing finally steadied as she approached the diner. The temptation to go inside where she would be safe taunted her. Yet no one in this town had helped her ten years ago. Why would she think they might now? And if she told the police…

      They might look into her story. Maybe her past. And she would go to jail for murder. Now that Hattie Mae had died, there was no one to verify that she was telling the truth. Admitting to killing Howard Hodges would be foolish.

      Shivering at the thought of that horrible night, she rolled down the window at the drive-through, wishing she had a coat to hide her predicament.

      A balding middle-aged man with a missing tooth narrowed his eyes at her momentarily, then grinned. “What can I do for you?”

      She shuddered, then realized he probably assumed she was picking up coffee for her and an overnight lover. Let him think what he wanted. She’d long ago lost a good-girl’s reputation. Survival was all that mattered.

      “A large coffee,” she said.

      “Breakfast


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