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Hank climbs into his truck and throws the passenger door open. “Thing One and Thing Two, let’s go!”
A short time later, as they’re driving away, I ask Grady, “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the rodeo, too? Looks like a nice time to have fun with family.”
“I’m sure,” he says. “You remember what Faulk said the other day.”
Oh, right.
It’s my fault he’s stuck here with me.
Cue the nervous laughter.
Faulk made it clear that with everything going on, I should stay out of sight as much as possible, and always have someone around to protect me. Apparently, other messy situations that happened in Dallas always wound up with the damsel in distress coming too close for comfort to an ambush.
And though I’m no damsel—perish the thought—there’s no denying the distressed part.
“I’m glad Hank was able to take the girls, at least. They were really looking forward to it and they shouldn’t be cooped up here with us just because...you know.”
“They love it,” he rumbles. “You would, too, I’m sure.” Winking at me, he says, “We’ll go another time.”
I smile and nod, knowing there won’t be another time.
As much as I think I like it here, it’s not where I belong. I’m a zoologist. It’s what I’ve always wanted to be, and there isn’t a zoo here or any exotics besides Bruce for miles.
No place for my career.
I wish that wasn’t true, but I can’t just up and abandon everything I’ve ever wanted. And even if I wanted to, Grady wouldn’t let me give up on my dream.
There’s a buzzing noise. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, looks at the screen, and the canyon of a frown on his face sends a shiver up my spine.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
“The cameras at the airstrip. They’re picking up motion.”
“Another animal?” I ask.
That’s happened several times. Other than the night when Priscilla sold that poor lion cub, there hasn’t been any activity besides the occasional deer or a bloated raccoon skittering past.
“No, I don’t think so. Let’s get a better look on the screens downstairs.”
“It can’t be another exchange,” I whisper, following him into the house. “They always happen in the middle of the night.”
Head down, he’s still staring at his phone. “Looks like someone walking around. I’m not sure. It’s too small to tell on this screen.”
“A hiker?” I ask.
“We hope,” he growls, this protective snarl in his voice.
We head for the basement, and I try hard to keep my eyes off the futon. The girls never come down into his man cave, nor have they noticed the extra bedding I’m washing on a regular basis.
It feels odd, this secret love affair.
Not that I want them to know.
I don’t.
But a small part of me wishes we could kiss in the open. Foolish, selfish, and a thousand other bad things. I know.
“Do you recognize them?” he asks, pointing at the screen as the app syncs to cast the footage.
I take a good look, shaking my head to clear my thoughts.
“No, I don’t think—wait.” I lean closer to the screen. “Oh, crap. That’s Wayne Bordell, the scummy conservation officer. Looks like he’s back.”
“That’s what I thought,” Grady agrees. “And it looks like he’s found one of the cameras, snooping around the edges of the airstrip.”
“Great,” I whisper, trying to fight the icy chill sweeping my blood.
I plop down on the other chair and hold my breath as Bordell examines the camera up close, a sneer on his face. Then the feed from his camera goes black.
“Do you think he’ll find the rest?”
“Guess we’ll just have to watch and see.” He picks up his phone and stabs at the screen.
“Are you texting Faulk?”
“Damn straight. We need to know if the camera feeds are traceable.” His eyes meet mine, bearish and dark.
Oh, Jesus.
I hadn’t even thought about that.
My heart thuds with weighted fear. There’s so much about this insanity that keeps surprising me. So many ways to suffer, fall into ruin, or worse.
His phone pings almost instantly.
“Faulk says no. The feeds are blocked. Untraceable, no matter what kind of equipment that fuck has.”
“Um, he just found another camera,” I say, feeling thwarted, watching another screen go black.
“Let him. He can’t hurt you here, I promise, darlin’.”
Grady rests a hand on my knee, as if he knows just how to make me feel better.
Together, we watch as Bordell frantically searches the area, and finds all but one camera. He comes close to uncovering the last unit several times, but never touches it where it sits, half covered behind a few long stalks of grass.
After about ten minutes of no movement, Grady leans back in his chair, heaving a sigh.
“Looks like he left empty-handed. We’ve still got one set of eyes, even if this one isn’t the best quality,” he says.
“Did you see a vehicle?”
“Nope, but he must’ve had one. It’s not on the road, though—our last camera still shows part of the service road and nothing ever came by.”
