Page 36 of Preying Game

Chapter 13

Jonah had dressed in dark jeans, shirt, jacket and running shoes. His Sig was in a shoulder holster under his jacket. He probably couldn’t shoot Hayward, but having the weapon made him feel better.

He arrived in Carvertown around 5:00pm wishing it weren’t still full daylight as he headed toward the Hayward estate in the bright turquoise boat of a Chevy that stuck out among all the modern cars. He passed the entrance, a weed-choked lane that had probably once been paved, and drove farther down the road, looking for a good place to park. He didn’t have to go far to find a small wooded area. Pulling the car under the trees, he cut the engine and sat for a minute with his hands clenching the steering wheel.

Frank had told him to focus on his emotions, and that wasn’t going to be a problem. All his hopes and fears for the evening churned inside him like an interior hurricane.

He reached for the knob on the radio, then pulled his hand back. Alice might be busy getting ready, and he didn’t want to break her concentration as she prepared for her ordeal.

Tension buzzed through him, partly because he had no idea whether he could actually get back to Alice. Finding out that she was living in an era before he was born had been a horrible shock. Had the shock been so great that it would keep him from traveling there again?

It was hard to stay in the car. He wanted to get up and do something—if only it was to pace through the woods. But because he knew it was better to stay out of sight, he forced himself to sit still for another twenty minutes.

Then his nerves simply wouldn’t let him remain idle. What if he waited too long and it was too late?

When he couldn’t stand the tension any longer, he got out and stretched before heading across the fields toward the burned-out ruin of the mansion, his eyes alert for any sign of the cop who had questioned him and Grant that morning.

He’d spent the afternoon looking at the aerial photos he’d taken of the estate. He was pretty sure he knew the layout of the place. And probably it hadn’t changed much, thanks to the family dispute that kept the property from being developed. The grounds were overgrown. Doubtless the exterior had been better taken care of in Hayward’s time. But he kept his eye out for places where Alice could hide if she needed to.

It was getting dark when he found some cover in a small stand of saplings. Still he waited with his eyes closed, praying he could get back to Alice. It might be harder now because he understood the distance between them. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

Instead, he pictured her and did what Frank had advised. He let his emotions bloom, let his longing to be with Alice guide him to her—past all the years between them.

At first it didn’t work, and he felt panic start to swallow him whole. Then he ordered himself to calm down.

“Steady,” he muttered. “Steady. You’ve done this before. You can do it again. You did it when you didn’t know the time difference. You can still do it.”

Yet he understood it didn’t matter what he told himself. Learning how far away she really was had given him a bad shock.

oOo

Arthur Hayward sat in his comfortable library drumming his fingers on the desktop. He was impatient for the hunt. Yet he couldn’t start until dark, lest a passing boater on the river could see what was going on at the estate.

He stood up, poured a finger of Scotch and downed it in one swallow. His nerves were so raw that he had to force himself not to ring the gong that signaled the start of the game. He’d had Alice Davenport under strict control—like the other women he’d taken. Now the bitch was ruining his pleasure. Something had happened, something he couldn’t understand, and all he wanted to do was get rid of the little cunt.

Previously, he’d drawn out the hunt. He’d let his prey think she had a chance to get away, and he’d watched her circle around the grounds, trying to find a way out. Not this time. He’d let Alice onto the playing field and let her have a few minutes to worry about escaping. Then he’d finish her off with a surprise strike and start looking for his next victim.

oOo

The dramatic ringing of a loud gong startled Alice awake. She sat up and looked around, instantly in a state of high alert.

Hayward’s voice blasted out of the loudspeaker like an announcer at a boxing match. “Time for the game to begin. You will go upstairs and take the door to the outside that you will find open. Step out and close the door behind you. I will give you twenty minutes to get as far away as you can.”

She got up, did some stretches, and went to the bathroom. After using the facilities, she splashed water on her face and took a drink.

Although she wanted to reach into her pocket to feel the matches, she kept her hands at her sides as she walked down the hall and up the steps. The whole scene had feeling of unreality, like she was an actor in a play. But this scene was all too immediate.

“Keep your head, and keep your nerve,” she told herself, knowing her only chance was to stay cool. Had the other women thought they could escape? Had they been paralyzed by fear and given up too easily? She certainly wasn’t going to do that. If the bastard was going to finish her off, she wouldn’t make it easy for him.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she saw the open door and stepped out. Instead of closing the door completely, she pulled it almost shut. Turning, she drew in a deep breath as she got her first taste of the outside since she’d arrived here. The sky was dark, but the moon was close to full, brightening the scene. The air was just a little chilly, and she was glad her shirt had long sleeves. Although it felt safer to linger in the doorway, she stepped away from the building, heading across a stretch of lawn. The grass felt dry and brittle under her feet, and she had the feeling that the rest of the summer had been dry.

The trees looked like they were beginning to turn. The idea of climbing one crossed her mind, but then she’d be trapped. Instead she headed to the other side of several old boxwoods and pressed backward into the small-leafed branches, enveloped by the bush’s pungent aroma. When she had partially concealed herself, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the matchbook. Flipping open the cover, she found that only about half the matches were still in the pack. Well, that was better than nothing.

Hayward had told her he’d give her twenty minutes to get away, which made her think that sticking around the house was a better idea.

Listening hard, she tried to detect any evidence of the man moving around the grounds, but she heard nothing.

Jonah, are you here Jonah? she called out.

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