She fell and clawed at the muddy drive.
Grasping her ankle with both hands, he dragged her toward the bushes. She thrashed and kicked her other leg.
His grip eased ever so slightly.
She kicked again. He groaned.
Again, she kicked. And again.
He tumbled backward.
Scrambling to her feet, she lunged for her car, opened the door and fell into the driver’s seat. He reached for her and she slammed the door, catching the tips of his fingers. He screamed in pain and pounded his fist against the window.
She started the engine and floored the accelerator. The car fishtailed out of the drive. Yanking on the wheel, she turned onto the main road, heading toward Mountain Loft.
Her heart pounded nearly out of her chest. She had to get away. She glanced in the rearview mirror, her stomach rolling. Headlights followed after her onto the country road.
Her secondhand Honda wasn’t built for speed. The man in black would overtake her before she got to town.
On the opposite side of the road, the Lavys’ neighboring farm sat dark in the night. A narrow path behind the house led from the road to a stand of trees and a pond where her brother and William Lavy had played when they were young. If she could turn off the main road and hide near the pond, she might elude the attacker. She switched off her headlights, eased into the turn and bounced along the muddy path. The pond appeared ahead.
She stopped behind a cluster of pines, grabbed her phone and jumped from the car into a quagmire of mud. Pulling free, she stumbled toward the house and glanced at the main road just as a car raced by. All she saw was a flash of white.
Knowing he would turn around and come back to find her, she rounded the farmhouse, climbed the steps to the porch and pounded on the door.
“Mr. Lavy! Will! It’s Julianne Graber. I need help.”
She thought back five years to the morning she had fled in shock from her own house. William had been working in his barnyard. She had run toward him, tears streaming from her eyes.
“What’s wrong, Julie?” he’d asked. “Tell me! What happened?”
“Datt... Bennie...” She’d gasped. “They’re both dead.”
Shoving aside the memory, she pounded on the door again.
Another sound came. She dropped her hand and listened. A car engine. Her pulse raced and her throat went dry. The man in the bandana was coming back.
She dashed around the side of the house as the white car pulled into the Lavys’ drive. A lump filled her throat, but she fisted her hands, unwilling to cry. Ducking behind a large hedge, she held her breath. Her heart thumped so hard she was sure he could hear her.
His car door opened. He stepped to the drive. Through the branches of the shrubbery, she could see his pant legs and mud-caked boots.
A beam of light flickered from a flashlight. He turned it first to the porch and then toward the barn and outbuildings. Angling her gaze, she saw his black jacket and trousers. The bandana still covered his face. He hesitated for a long moment and then climbed into his car, backed onto the road and turned toward town. Driving slowly, he aimed the flashlight along the side of the road.
As he neared the path to the pond, she held her breath, fearing he would see tread marks in the mud. “Please,” she whispered. “Keep driving.”
The car eased to a stop. Light flickered over the path. Her heart nearly crashed through her chest. After what seemed like an eternity, he drove on.
Letting out the breath she was holding, she tapped 911 into her phone. Nothing. She checked her screen. No bars. Her stomach churned. She raced to her car and wanted to scream when she tried her cell again with the same result.
She needed to alert the sheriff’s office. If her phone wouldn’t work, she’d go there in person. Hunkered down in her car, she waited thirty minutes, giving the man in black time to arrive at his destination and be off the road. She turned the key in the ignition, relieved when the engine hummed to life, and stepped on the gas. A whirring sound filled the air as the tires spun in the soft mud.
With an audible moan, she got out, rounded to the rear of the car, placed her hands on the trunk and pushed with all her might. The car wouldn’t budge, and all she succeeded in doing was sinking deeper into the mud. Her only option was to wait until morning.
She shivered, not only from the cold, but also from being attacked and having her car stuck. Her side ached, and her head felt like it would explode from stress. So much for a happy homecoming.
Something rustled in a nearby stand of trees.
After climbing quickly into her car, she hit the door lock button, scooted lower in the seat and narrowed her gaze, trying to discern what was roaming in the darkness. A fox or coyote perhaps? Brown bears were not uncommon in the mountains.
She blinked to bring the form into focus, but it disappeared from sight. Or had she imagined the movement altogether? One thing was certain—she would stay locked in the car until the first light of dawn.
Yanking a heavy lap blanket from the rear seat, she wrapped it around her shoulders and rested her head back. As the minutes passed, her eyes grew heavy. She snuggled into the blanket and closed her eyes.
The man with the red bandana who wanted to do her harm was the last thing she thought of before falling asleep, but it was William’s face that filled her dream. She was at the lake so long ago. The moonlight broke through the trees and illuminated his searching eyes as he lowered his lips to hers.
Tap, tap, tap. The sound startled her and pulled her from her slumber. She opened her eyes to a glare of sunlight and blinked a blurred form into view.
A
