Page 23 of Echoes in the Night

He kisses my forehead. “You’re gonna spoil me. Now, lock the door and set the alarm like I showed you. When I return, I’ll stand in front of the window and knock on it three times.

“No one is going to make it up here today, but if they did, DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR for anyone. Not even your best friend. It could be a trap. Hide in the safe room and know I’m on my way. If the cabin is breached it releases a high-pitched whine that I’ll hear, so know I’d be on my way immediately. So stay hidden.”

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“No just… just a feeling. We’ve been reasonably safe with the storm. Now that it’s stopped… I want us to be extra vigilant.”

He waits until I have everything locked up then he taps the window and gives me a thumbs up. I watch him cross to the tree line and then he just disappears.

Heading to the kitchen I dry wipe the eggs and put the card in the basket that tells us when we collected them. Going through his produce baskets I use the oldest looking items first and begin preparing dinner. I’m not comfortable with starting the wood stove on my own since I’ve only watched him. I’ll prep everything and when he gets back, I’ll have him watch as I do it myself this first time.

I glance out the window over the sink. The snow on the pines, with the blue sky background is calming. Being here brings a peace I’ve never felt other than in my own apartment or with my grandparents. No pressure. No demands. No expectations.

I never belonged with my snooty, society conscious parents. Or their friends. When I hit junior high, they tried to send me to a boarding school. I called my Grandpa, and he put a stop to that. They tried again in high school. I would have gone to a college closer to home, but So Cal had the program I wanted.

Studying the scene in front of me, I wonder if my dislike of hiking and the wilderness came from my mom and dad and a lack of knowledge. I’ve never even tried. This is so beautiful and peaceful.

This is Jax’s natural habitat. I wonder how hard it is for him to be in town. I have my job and my design business. I will need to be in town sometimes. Maybe there’s a way to get better connectivity up here. We’ll both have to compromise, but we will make this work.

Since I have no real idea how far up the mountain we are, or the commute to town. I guess that will be the starting point ofour conversations. We have a lot to discuss, but the one thing I’m sure of is I’m not giving him up.

Drying my hands on the towel, I pause and cover my womb with one palm. Could I be pregnant?

Damn, I haven’t paid attention for months. I mean there hasn’t been a reason. There are a few eligible and decent guys in town. Clay Harker, the Sheriff is one. But my one close friend and bestie at the coffee shop has had gaga eyes for him forever.

Everyone else in this town sees me as an extension of my parents. Even at the bank it took a while for coworkers and customers to accept me for me and not my demanding parents. Because of my parents I haven’t put myself out there to try and change everyone’s opinion. The town doesn’t really know me.

During tourist season the town is a little different. People are looser and more open because of the strangers and being business friendly. I had dreams of opening a vintage clothing shop this spring with reclaimed garments that I would tweak as well as offering some of my own designs. My grandparents were going to help with the startup. That dream is gone now. My parents would never help with the startup or let me do something so beneath their status.

Grabbing the coffee pot from the cast iron stove, I pour another cup. It’s lukewarm. Okay, I miss my microwave and my Keurig.

At the table, I run my fingers over the two sketch pads. The one Jax uses for his designs and the one he gave me to use.

He’s in there. The man who tried to kill me. My chest fills with rage. Why me? Was I a convenient mark? A lone woman in a remote location? It was cool that day and most of the coffee shop customers were inside. The ones outside didn’t stay long. But my seat was isolated, blocked from the wind and there was a heater nearby.

The designs were flowing. Mind filled with fashion images, my fingers flew across the pages. I think I did at least six. Dresses and outfits I would wear myself. I know they would sell to women like me who are constantly overlooked in commercial designs. I wasn’t paying attention to time or my surroundings.

I flip open the pad with my attacker. My gaze lands first on the beautiful hair clasps Jax drew for me. His kindness, thoughtfulness, and care give me strength.

Forcing my attention to the opposite page, I stare at the incomplete image of the man’s face. Has he done this to other unsuspecting women? Is he a serial killer? How many others have there been? My vision fixates on his face. His eyes need to be a little larger. They were beautiful eyes, disingenuous of the evil behind them.

His voice seemed warm at first, then I realized the timbre was warm, there was no emotion behind the words.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Just business.”

“Why me?”

“You were in someone’s way. The price was right. I needed fifty thousand for a down payment on a house. And I had free reign on how to dispose of you.”

“Please,” I begged as he turned his back on me.

“Most deaths are so boring and predictable. Gunshot here, stabbing there. Where’s the fun? I like the challenge of making it different. This one is especially innovative, because within hours of the end of the storm the local predators will dispose of the body for me.

“Consider yourself lucky, Maura. With this storm, you’ll freeze to death before the animals feed on you,” he calls over his shoulder as he disappears into the trees.

Chapter Fifteen

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