Lydia found the unlock button and hit it, a punching sound released inside the car. As she ended the call, she looked over.

Daniel squeezed himself into the passenger seat. Shut his door while he brushed his rain-wet hair back. And then he looked over casually, as if they’d done nothing more strenuous or unusual than drop those invitations at the post office: No bizarre investigation of Peter Wynne’s mysteriously empty and waterlogged house. No spying on the reporter and the cameraman. No strange soldier stalking under that deer stand and Daniel—

“Hi,” he said. In a very chill, how’s-your-day-going tone of voice.

The trembling came over her in a wave, her body vibrating in the seat so badly, she hung on to the wheel. “We have to go back to the deer stand. Eastwind—the sheriff—is meeting us there.”

“Okay, good. You all right to drive?”

“No, I’m not.”

The rain was lashing now, the wipers not keeping up with the deluge. And as they slapped back and forth, she stared out the windshield.

“One step at a time,” he said quietly. “Cut the impossible into pieces.”

“How are you so calm?”

“Just turn us around.”

As a truck came toward them and then passed by, she screwed the twelve thousandth k-turn, and just threw them into reverse. Twisting around and grabbing on to his headrest, she piloted them backward to Farlan’s Lane.

The little cut into the forest came quicker than she expected, and as she took them off onto the twin dirt tracks into the trees, she glanced up at the yellow-and-brown road sign. So official for what her grandfather would have called a goat path.

“What are you going to say when he asks why you didn’t call him at Peter’s?” Daniel asked. “You should be prepared.”

Looking over, she asked a question she feared the answer to. “Have you been in jail?”

“You’ve seen my background check.”

“That’s not a no.”

“I can’t forge my record.” He drummed his fingers on the console like he was frustrated, but she wasn’t sure whether it was with her or himself. “When I was young, I had some issues. Just petty shit. Juvenile detention. Nothing as an adult.”

She nodded and bumped them along. “You just seem like you’ve done this before. With the law, I mean.”

And breaking into a house.

And flattening some guy to the ground.

“Don’t mistake detachment for familiarity.”

They fell silent as she went farther and farther into the property. Overhead, the bare tree branches and spindly pine boughs did little to cut the rainfall so she kept her wipers on. Some distance in, she stopped about where she thought they’d halted the first time. Turning the car off, she popped the hood and got out. As she leaned over the warm engine, Daniel joined her on the other side.

“We need to—”

“If you want to make it look as if we stalled,” he murmured, extending his arm down, “we’ll just do this.”

He pulled out a set of tubing.

“You read my mind,” she muttered as a big set of headlights bumped up and down toward them. “Here he comes. I think I’ll leave the hood up.”

As Daniel just nodded, she pushed her damp hair back. “I’m not used to any of this. And I hate lying.”

“I know you do,” he said.

The Walters Township sheriff’s SUV had front beams that were the new, icy kind, and in the forest, on a cloudy day, they were blinding. Eastwind killed the sting as he cut his engine, and he put his hat on as he got out. The thing had a plastic covering in place, like a shower cap, but the rest of him got as wet as Lydia and Daniel were becoming.

“Hi, Sheriff.” Lydia lifted a hand as she shivered. “Thanks for meeting us.”

The sheriff touched the brim of his waterproofed hat and dipped his head. “So what’s this about? Looks like you need a tow truck more than me.”

“It’s not about the car.” Lydia rushed through her words. “Someone’s been following me. They were on my property Saturday night.” She motioned toward Daniel. “He and I were going to the post office when I noticed this suspicious car behind me. I pulled ahead and came down here because I figured I’d lose them. When my car died on me, Daniel and I took into the trees. We found a deer stand and decided to hide up there while we called for help—and that’s how we knew you were at Peter’s. We could see the barn from the stand and it was obvious something was wrong.”

“And no one came down here after you?”

“Actually, they did.” She glanced at Daniel. “Somehow the man followed me. Us. On foot to the deer stand.”

Eastwind focused on Daniel, his brown eyes shrewd. “And you are?”

“Daniel Joseph,” came the reply. “The Wolf Study Project’s new groundskeeper. I was just helping her with some invitations because the boxes were so heavy.”

“Can either of you describe this man?”

Lydia spoke up. “He was like a soldier. Dressed in all black. He looked … professional.”

“And where is he now?”

Lydia stared at Daniel. “He’s back in the woods. Where Daniel … handled him.”

“I wanted to protect her.” Daniel shrugged. “I disarmed him and subdued him so she could get away. Then I left myself and ran for the county road.”

“When I got back to the car,” Lydia said, “I tried to figure out what I could do to fix it. But I don’t know anything about cars. I was so scared. That’s when I called you.”

So many holes. Her story felt like a hot mess, held together not with truths or facts, but a sloppy knit of bullshit. But what else could she do? She didn’t trust Eastwind, either.

“Let’s go back to him.” She nodded at the woods. “I’ll take you to him.”

“By all means,” Eastwind murmured. “Show me everything.”

 

“He was here … we left him, here.”

Lydia frowned and kneeled down where the leaves and pine needles had been roughed up. In the midst of the otherwise undisturbed ground cover, the struggle between Daniel and that man in the black uniform had left obvious marks, raw dirt exposed and gouged by the heels and toes of both their sets of boots as well as the soldier’s body.

But the other half of that fight was nowhere to be seen.

Oh, God, she thought. He was out there. Somewhere.

And given that she had rushed over to try to stop what she’d thought was a murder—the man had seen her and he knew she had seen his face.

She pointed in the direction of the deer stand. “We were way over there, but this was where Daniel jumped him.”

Eastwind glanced around. Then focused on Daniel. “And you say you disarmed him?”

“I did. I didn’t take the weapons, though.” Daniel opened his leather jacket, flashing his pockets, the waistband of his jeans. “I wish I had, though.”

“What was he carrying?”

“An autoloader. A knife. Bullets.”

“And how badly did you hurt him?” the sheriff asked.

“I just choked him out.” He looked at Lydia. “I only wanted her to be able to get away so as soon as he was unconscious, I stopped. When I figured she was far enough ahead, I zip-tied him with his own stuff and ran for the county road.”