Page 32 of Ranger Belief
It was late, and Jonah knew he should leave, but now he was the one who wasn’t ready. “Watch the game with me?”
She gave a soft smile. “Sure.”
He leaned back against the couch, letting the weight of his exhaustion settle over him. And then suddenly he jerked awake. His eyes struggled to adjust to the dark and his mind didn’t know where he was. Jonah blinked. Laney’s cabin. He must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. A blanket covered his body, and the television was off. What time was it? A quick check of his watch confirmed it was almost five in the morning.
That’s when he heard it. The noise that must’ve woken him from a dead sleep.
Scout.
She stood in the kitchen doorway. Her body was tense in the dim glow from the nightlight in the small hall, gaze focused on the back door. She bared her teeth.
Her growl was low and threatening.
FIFTEEN
In a second, Jonah was on his feet. His hand flew to the weapon at his side, but the holster was empty. Panic tightened his chest until he spotted his gun sitting, magazine out, on the coffee table. Laney must’ve removed it while he was sleeping for safety. He scooped up the Glock and shoved the magazine home while taking three long strides across the small living room to Scout’s side.
She growled again, her hackles raised, entire body tense.
“What is it, girl?” He peered out the small window over the sink into the yard. The predawn light cast everything in a ghostly blue-gray hue. A light drizzle pattered against the roof. The pine trees swayed in the breeze, their needled branches creating shifting patterns against the gradually brightening sky. Between their trunks, darkness pooled.
Jonah edged past Scout and shifted next to the door for a better view of the yard. The lake was a dark blot, the water rippling with the rain. He scanned the treeline. Nothing shifted. Scout joined him, sitting on her haunches. Her dark brown eyes looked up at him questioningly.
He felt slightly stupid, but that didn’t stop him from whispering. “I don’t see anything. If you are causing all of this ruckus because of a raccoon, we’re gonna have words.”
Her brows dropped into a furrow, and Jonah shook his head. “Okay, okay. I believe you.” He scanned the yard again, focusing on the trees in the distance. Nothing stirred. Had the trespasser fled? Likely, since Scout had relaxed. He shifted to the window over the sink again. A flash of something caught his eye. Not in the yard. No, much closer.
Hanging from the corner of the porch was a small dead animal.
Anger, fast and sharp, burst through him. He moved back to the door and twisted the knob. Scout rose. He gently pushed her out of the way, blocking her ability to go outside. Jonah didn’t want the dog to get hurt on the off-chance the perpetrator was still lurking nearby.
Moist air coated his skin as he stepped outside, closing the door behind him. Cautiously, keeping to the shadow of the cabin, he edged along the porch. His gaze roamed the area beyond the yard. A brave squirrel bounced down an oak tree and jumped toward a pine. The rain picked up speed. Its steady drumbeat was in rapid tune with his heart. He approached the dead animal.
A rabbit. Likely a wild one, judging from its dark brown fur. Its head was twisted at an unnatural angle, its tongue stuck out. A strand of barbed wire wrapped around its neck. The other end was attached to a hook meant for plants on the roof of the porch. It took Jonah a moment to realize it wasn’t just rain darkening the poor animal’s fur. It was blood.
The wind gusted. The rabbit turned in slow motion as if touched by an invisible hand, revealing a note attached to its side. Jonah’s muscles tensed. He leaned in to read the typewritten message.
Be afraid, little bunny. Be very afraid.
A cold chill ran down his spine, and Jonah’s fingers tightened on his Glock. Whoever was behind this wasn’t simply trying to silence Laney, he wanted to terrorize her. The realization hit him like a physical blow. What kind of sick game was this? What did the killer want? It didn’t make sense.
Jonah went down the porch steps and into the yard. Rain damped his hair and his shirt, chilling his skin. Depressions in the grass indicated the path the perpetrator had taken.
A gasp came from behind him. He whirled to find Laney standing on the porch in her pajamas and a pair of ratty tennis shoes. In one hand, she held her service weapon. Her attention was locked on the rabbit. In a blink, her shock disappeared, replaced by a fiery rage he didn’t see very often.
The truth crystallized in an instant. The reason the killer had left the rabbit on the porch.
Desperation took hold, even as he took one step toward Laney, and barked, “Get back inside?—”
Gunshots erupted.
Glass shattered as the bullets slammed into the window next to Laney. She dropped to the floor. Jonah hit the ground, rolling behind the corner of the house for cover, losing sight of Laney in the process. Bullets slammed into the wooden porch in rapid succession. Scout erupted into frantic barks and then fell silent. His heart dropped. My God, had the dog been hit? Had Laney?
Jonah rose to a crouched position, weapon at the ready. His heart thundered. Concern for Laney threatened to unmoor him, but he forced it away. The gunman was hidden in a copse of trees. He gauged the shooter’s position and took aim, firing off a couple of rounds.
The bullets flying their way ceased.
He waited with bated breath. A heartbeat later, the sound of someone crashing through the woods shattered the silence.Scout barked, and then Laney's voice cut through the morning air from somewhere near the front of the cabin.
