Midnight Exposure Page 21

  Reed’s eyes moved across the landscape. The yard was empty. Nothing moved in the trees. He approached the workshop from the rear. One glance down at the ground had him ducking behind the building.

  A trail of human footprints led from the rear of the outbuilding and disappeared into the forest. As Reed inspected the tracks, the high-pitched whine of a snowmobile engine cut through the night air and faded rapidly.

  Shit.

  Reed turned and stared back at the house. The ground was elevated slightly behind the shop. From his position, he had a clear view of the entire rear of the house. How long had the man been out here?

  The urge to go after Jayne’s stalker surged in Reed’s veins. The tracks would be easy to follow, but the guy had a whopping head start. Then there was the possibility that the man would double back and ambush Reed.

  Or return to the house.

  Jayne would be unprotected. She’d be alone, vulnerable. As Madeline had been. Drawing Reed away could be the plan if Jayne’s captor really wanted her back—which he obviously did.

  The man pursued her with terrifying determination.

  Reed’s gut clenched as a cold wind blew ice crystals off the workshop roof and dumped them onto his head. Cold water invaded the neck of his coat and slid down his spine. A shiver rode behind it. He circled the house but found no other signs of the trespasser. He listened. Nothing but the wind.

  Had he scared the man off for the night?

  Reed pivoted and surveyed the yard once more. The clouds shifted and a beam of moonlight fell across the yard. In the tree next to his workshop, something glittered.

  Reed backtracked. About six feet up on the tree trunk, something hung. It was circular and shiny. He ducked into his workshop for a flashlight. Hanging on a nail driven into the tree trunk, the object was twisted metal, about eight to ten inches in diameter and open on one end. Reed jogged back to the house. Jayne met him at the side door. The gun was in her hand, ready. He stomped his boots on the porch.

  “Well?” She slid the dead bolt home.

  “Somebody was out there.”

  “He knows where I am.” Jayne’s face went grim.

  “Everyone in town knows where you are.” Reed clumped into the living room and pulled his digital camera from his desk drawer. “There’s something outside, in the tree. I’m going to take a few pictures before I bring it in. Can you find a clean pillowcase in the linen closet and lay it on the kitchen table?”

  Jayne shot him a confused look but nodded. “Is he gone?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be right back.” On his way through the kitchen, he snagged the barbeque tongs from the drawer. Reed photographed the strange object before using the tongs to lift it from the tree. It was heavier than he’d expected.

  In the kitchen, he laid it carefully on the pillowcase. The gold shone dully against the chocolate-brown cotton. The metal had a lack of definition, a smoothness that suggested centuries of wear.

  Like the Celtic coin that had been found under the teenager’s remains.

  Reed stripped off his coat and tossed it over the nearest chair back. “What do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know. Looks like something that should be in a museum. Some kind of artifact. Necklace maybe?” Her nose wrinkled as she concentrated on the odd engravings that adorned the dull gold. Small spirals decorated the flattened ends. “These engravings look like those symbols that were all over the basement walls. The same ones he wrote on my car and on the door at the inn.”

  “What’s this?” Reed pointed to the vine wrapped around the metal. Clumps of white berries hung on the greenery. Tucked in the vine were three long black feathers and something that looked like burnt bread or cake. “Except for the feathers and food, it looks Christmasy.”

  “That’s because it’s mistletoe.” Jayne circled the table to look at the piece from another angle. “So what do we do with it?”

  Reed hated his answer before he gave it. “We call Doug Lang.” Unfortunately.

  Jayne’s eyes shifted from the metal to Reed. “No, really. What do we do? Doug doesn’t like you very much.”

  “I know. He’s afraid I want the chief’s job, but we don’t have much of a choice. It’s evidence. We have to call him. He’s the only cop around. He’ll at least dust it for prints and call the state police. They have a lot more resources than the small municipality of Huntsville.” Reed tilted his head and stared at the object. She was right. It looked as if it belonged in a museum. He glanced at Jayne, who was giving him a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look. “But first we take a whole bunch of pictures and measurements so we can find out what the hell this thing is in case Doug sits on it for any length of time.”

  “That I can do.” Jayne took possession of Reed’s camera and adjusted the kitchen light. While Reed left a message for Doug, she walked around the table and snapped shots from every conceivable angle while Reed closed the blinds. “What do you think this thing means? Do you think he left it for me?” A quiver edged into Jayne’s voice. Her eyes looked wet for just a second; then she blinked.

  “Yeah. I do. I think this psycho left you a damned present.” He quickly told her about the ancient coin.

  “That’s. Just. Too. Freaky.” She sucked in air as if it were courage and pounded a fist against her thigh. “I wish we could figure out who he is. I can’t spend my life wondering if every person I meet is going to try to abduct me.”

  “I know. But ‘tall white guy with blue eyes’ isn’t much to go on.” Reed closed the blinds in the kitchen. “With all the Norwegian blood around here, he could be almost anybody.”

  “I should’ve ripped off his mask.”

  “And taken the chance that he’d get a nice, firm hold on you?”

  “No.” Jayne sighed. “But I wish I’d have gotten one good look at his face.”

  “Me, too. One thing, though. He’s a better woodsman than me, not that that’s any great feat. I sounded like a moose crashing through the trees. He didn’t make any noise.” Reed switched on the light. “I’m going to review Hugh’s file on that dead teenager again. Maybe something’ll pop out at me.”

  Jayne turned the lens on Reed and snapped a picture as he turned. He flinched at the click of the shutter.

  She lowered the camera. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s OK. I don’t like having my picture taken.”

  “Understandable.” She set the camera on the table. “I’m going to get dressed, then make coffee.”

  Reed wanted to follow her, to peel the robe from her body and forget all about the outside world for a few more hours. But it was too late. He needed to put some distance between himself and his lovely houseguest in order for his brain cells to reactivate.

  Jayne’s stalker had been right outside. Less than a hundred feet away while they slept inside—totally helpless. If Reed had been thinking with his brain instead of his hormones, he’d have been awake and standing guard all night instead of curled up with Jayne’s naked body. But he’d allowed his emotions and libido to make the call.

  That couldn’t happen again.

  Jayne set her toilet case on the vanity. Toothbrush. Deodorant. Hygiene basics had become luxury items. She set her makeup case aside and settled for a quick face wash, rinsing with cold water in the hope it would wake her up.

  She dug through her duffel bag for a change of clothes, inordinately thrilled to have her own things. Socks and underwear. Squee!

  She yanked a T-shirt and sweater over her head and wriggled into her jeans. Sticking her hand into her front pocket to smooth a bulge, she encountered a small rectangle.

  Oh my God. She drew it out and stared. Duh.

  Why hadn’t she remembered she’d shoved it in her pocket? Usually she stored memory cards in the zippered pouch of her camera case, but she’d been in a rush to change out of her wet jeans. She’d totally forgotten.

  She hurried out of the bathroom. “Reed?”

  “Yeah.” At the kitchen table, he raised his head from th
e file. He swept the photos he’d been studying back into the manila folder. What didn’t he want her to see?

  Jayne held up the digital memory card.

  He removed his reading glasses and set them on the table. Interest lit his eyes. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Uh-huh. It was in the pocket of my jeans. I totally forgot about changing them after I fell in that puddle.” Jayne froze, realization hitting home. “He killed Hugh for no reason. The camera Hugh took was empty.”

  Reed absorbed that information for a few seconds in silence. “Do you know what’s on it?”

  “All the pictures I took in town,” Jayne said. “I can’t imagine any of them being incriminating or scandalizing in any way. Most of them were just old buildings and scenery.”

  “Cross your fingers. This could be our first real break.” He retrieved the laptop from the living room and booted it up. Jayne stuck the memory card into the SD slot. The computer’s media viewer opened at Reed’s click. “If we’re right, Hugh was killed for something on this card.”

  Jayne’s eyes filled. She blinked hard to clear them. Hugh had died for no reason.

  “Three hundred pictures?”

  “That’s about right,” Jayne said. “No reason to limit myself with digital media.”

  Reed clicked the Download button. “I wouldn’t think there were three hundred things to photograph in town.”

  “If I like a subject I might take a few dozen pictures of it. Multiple angles, shutter speeds, apertures. There are filters and effects to play with. Light and shadow. Different types of focus.”

  While the computer chugged away, Reed poured her a cup of coffee. “Are you hungry?”

  “No, thanks.” Jayne’s stomach was doing somersaults. No way could she eat anything until she found out what was on that memory card. “Anything in the file?”

  “Not yet.” Reed moved back to the page he’d been reviewing when Jayne entered the kitchen. He froze, frowned, then flipped back a few pages. His finger tapped a photocopied report. “Wait a minute. That cannot be a coincidence.”

  Reed’s eyes darted back and forth between the folder and the gold circle laid out in the center of the table. “In addition to the two-thousand-year-old coin, crow feathers were found around and under the body. Normally that wouldn’t be unusual. Birds are scavengers. The body was found in the woods. Stranger things turn up at outdoor crime scenes. But…” They both looked at the odd metal circle, with its mistletoe and feather adornments. “There’s nothing normal about this case.”

  The computer emitted a soft chime.

  “The pictures are ready to view.” Jayne sank into a chair and opened the folder.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “I don’t see anything exciting.” Reed sighed and scrolled through another set of pictures. “Lots of old buildings. Trees. Maybe we’re on the wrong track. These pictures are as boring as the town. No offense.”

  “None taken.” Jayne reached for the laptop. “Let me have another go through.”

  “Wait.” Reed squinted at the screen. A small dark shape lingered in a stretch of woods. “What’s this?”

  Jayne leaned over his arm. Her hair brushed his face. “When I took it, I thought it was an animal. Let me blow it up.”

  Reed rubbed a soft tendril between his fingers. Intent on her photos, Jayne didn’t notice. A sexy furrow popped up between her eyebrows as she frowned at the image. She tapped the keyboard. “It’s a man, I think.”

  Reed reminded himself to back off and released her soft curl. He needed to focus on her case. He needed to put some space between them. But he wanted her to stay.

  Shit. This wasn’t going well.

  He blinked hard and concentrated on the image. Jayne’s life could be at stake. “Do you remember where you were when you took it?”

  “Yeah. I was pumping gas. These trees are across the field behind the station near the edge of town.” She clicked the mouse a few more times, zooming and centering. “OK. This is weird. He’s wearing an ankle-length hooded coat. Does that look like fur to you?”

  “It does. And he’s carrying something.” Reed stood and circled behind her. He rested his palm on her shoulder and leaned closer to the screen. Close enough to get a sweet whiff of the floral scent in her hair.

  He studied the strange man in the picture. Odd. It seemed he was wearing a robe rather than a coat. Reed pointed to the man’s head. “Can you lighten this part here? His face is shadowed by the hood.”

  “Not with this software. I had a more powerful program on my laptop.” Jayne went quiet and slouched in the chair. Her hand went to the back of her neck and she winced.

  Unable to resist, Reed rubbed her nape and shoulders with one hand. The muscles were knotted under his fingertips. Her laptop was likely a very expensive piece of melted plastic, but he had no doubt Jayne was thinking about Hugh, not her computer. “Can you download something that’ll do the trick?”

  “Probably.” She rolled her neck on her shoulders, switched to the browser window, and opened Google.

  Reed stepped away from the table—away from Jayne—and refilled his coffee cup. The first sip burned all the way down. His stomach was on fire from too much coffee, and not enough sleep or food. He chewed four Tums and washed them down with another swallow. Sleep wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Cooking would give his hands something to do besides touch Jayne. “I need breakfast. Eggs?”

  “Fine.” Jayne gave him an absent nod without taking her eyes off the screen. “This’ll take a few minutes to download.”

  The phone rang as Reed poured a half-dozen beaten eggs into the frying pan. He glanced at the caller ID display. “Doug.”

  “Blech.”

  “I know he’s a jerk but we need his help.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t the one who royally pissed him off in Doc’s office.” Jayne crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in the chair. “And thanks for that, by the way.”

  “Sorry. I was a little strung out,” Reed said. “But you weren’t exactly Miss Congeniality.”

  Jayne huffed. “I tried, but he is a serious button-pusher. It’s a shame because the whole victim process is easier if the cops don’t hate you.”

  Reed’s heart squeezed at the reminder of her past. No matter how many times karma knocked her down, Jayne got to her feet and forged ahead.

  Reed punched the Talk key and gave Doug the rundown on what they’d found. To his surprise, Doug responded, “Fine. I’ll pick it up in ten minutes.” The phone went dead in Reed’s ear.

  “Doug’s on his way.” Reed whipped a few more eggs and added them to the pan. Then he slapped four pieces of bread in the toaster and threw some bacon in the microwave. By the time Sheba announced the cop’s arrival, breakfast was ready. Maybe a meal would make Doug more amenable. Reed had been a cop long enough to know that as much as Doug wanted to be chief, this wasn’t what he’d planned. Doug’s personality made it difficult to pity him, but the cop’s life was going to suck for quite some time.

  Reed swung the door open. Doug stood on the step. His snug uniform was wrinkled. Dark circles underscored his eyes. The smudges on his face and the smoky scent that wafted off him indicated he’d likely been at the scene all night and hadn’t been home since the fire.

  “OK, Reed. Let’s see it. I don’t have all day.”

  Reed breathed and bit off a response. He couldn’t expect Doug to be in a good mood, not after the last twenty-four hours. Still, this was going to be harder than he’d thought. “Come on in.”

  Doug stepped through the doorway.

  Reed led him back into the kitchen. “Hungry?”

  Surprise, then suspicion, crossed Doug’s face. “Uh. Sure. Thanks. I was just on my way home to shower and grab some clean clothes. Been at the scene and on the phone with the state and county police most of the night.”

  “Good.” Reed poured coffee and set a plate of food on the kitchen table across from Jayne. “Don’t be afraid to ask them for
help.”

  “Thanks, but I know what I’m doing.” Doug gave Jayne a cool nod. “Miss Sullivan.”

  “Officer Lang.” Jayne’s response was polite but chilly enough to frost a beer mug. She returned to her software download, leaving Reed to make nice.

  Doug pulled out the chair and sank into it. He two-handed the mug and Reed nearly felt sorry for him.

  Be careful what you wish for…

  Reed set a glass of orange juice in front of the cop.

  “Thanks.” Doug forked eggs into his mouth with an appreciative grunt. Reed waited the entire three minutes it took Doug to clean his plate, then Reed refilled the cop’s coffee cup.

  “Is that it?” At Reed’s nod, the cop leaned forward to study the metal object. “Any idea what it is?”

  “None,” Reed said. “Looks like it belongs in a museum to me.”

  Doug used his fork to point to the engravings on the flattened end pieces. “What are those symbols?”

  “No idea. That looks like a spiral.”

  “How about this one?” Doug indicated a spot nearly worn smooth. The shape was barely visible.

  “I didn’t see that one.” Reed squinted at the faint mark and reached for his reading glasses. He glanced over at Jayne. She was focused on the computer screen, her chin rested in her hand. “Jayne, what do you think?”

  She looked up from the laptop. Her eyes darted to Reed, then Doug. “What?”

  “Take a look at this symbol,” Reed prodded. “What do you think it is?”

  Jayne adjusted the light over the table. Dull gold gleamed. “Could it be a pentagram?”

  Doug’s brow wrinkled. “And it had the mistletoe wrapped around it with the feathers and cake when you found it in your tree?”

  “Yeah. I have pictures.” Reed braced himself for the criticism.

  “You shouldn’t have moved it.” And there it was.

  “I didn’t know what it was.”

  “You knew it didn’t belong there.”