Chapter Twenty-Two

Lorn

When I wake up, Rayne’s soft body is pressed trustingly against mine. For the first time, I don’t feel lustful having her naked and pressed against me. I am content simply to hold her.

Oh no.

My stomach sinks. I’m letting myself get in too deep. She rolls over and cuddles closer to me. The room outside the bed is far too cold, and we nestle in our warm little nest as the world grows lighter outside.

Rayne blinks one eye open, then looks up at me. Her lips curl into a sexy smile, and I rethink that whole not-feeling-lustful thing.

“Good morning,” she purrs. She reaches her arms above her head in a languid stretch, then seems to realize that she’s naked in my bed. A small blush blossoms across her cheeks.

She’s so cute when she’s bashful.

Her blissful expression fades, replaced by a small frown, and my eyebrows narrow.

“What is it?” I ask.

She inhales and releases the breath with pursed lips. “Larry.”

I’m determined to help her get answers, to get some peace of mind. We could be buying into a game that doesn’t even exist, but if it does, we need to know what we’re up against. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

“Where?” she asks.

“Somewhere you can get the reception you need. Do you know anyone who might be able to help you track Larry down?”

She nods. “My assistant Helen might. She can at least get us some numbers of some folks who might be able to help, maybe.”

I nod. That’s enough of a lead, for now. “Then let’s give Helen a call.”

Rayne’s gaze is grateful as she slides from my bed. She pads naked out of my room, and I nearly chase after her. One glimpse of that round, beautiful ass has me aching for more. My fingertips long to brush along that smooth skin. I know better, though.

She’s in no mood for sex. What we need now is action.

I change into a fresh pair of jeans and a thick sweater, then walk out into the living room. Sadly, Rayne has dressed, and she’s taking a sip from a glass of water while she waits for me to emerge.

“Ready?” I ask.

She holds up her phone and waves it in the air. “Full battery. Now I need a full signal.”

“I can find one of those,” I say. We strap back into our boots and don hats and gloves. It’s a bit of a trek to where we need to be, and I want to make sure we have everything we need.

“Let’s go then,” I say. Rayne says nothing as she falls in step behind me. Both of us are ready to get some answers, any answers.

I set off in the direction of a trail with clean, untouched snow. I stomp a path for Rayne to follow, but with the amount of snow, it’s slow going. We don’t speak during this trip. I can tell that Rayne’s mind is buzzing, seeking answers I wish I had.

We reach the base of a small mountain, and I pave the way up the incline. It’s not terribly steep, but conditions aren’t ideal for this kind of thing without the proper gear. While Rayne’s hiking boots are trendy, they aren’t the most practical. Still, she soldiers on behind me without complaint. We hike up the incline for another thirty minutes before we reach the top.

All around us, mountain peaks jut up into the sky, which is still a hazy gray color. Another storm system is almost upon us, and as if on cue, a snowflake lands on the tip of my nose. We’ll have to take even more care on the way down.

“Check your phone,” I say.

I turn and watch as Rayne pulls her cell phone out of her pocket and holds it up. Behind her, I catch a bird’s eye view of the lake far below, glimmering in the distance.

Rayne’s eyes light up. “Two bars! Hallelujah!”

Before she can unlock her phone, the device beeps like crazy, and Rayne’s eyes harden as she watches the screen.

“What the…”

I take a step closer and glance down at the screen. A myriad of messages pop up as well as about a hundred missed calls and the same number of voicemails.

“Are you always this popular?” I ask.

When she looks up at me, her gaze is troubled. “No. I’m not. Not a lot of people have this phone number. The texts are from Helen, but let me check one of her voicemails first.”

She presses a few buttons and then touches the button to place the voicemail on speaker. A woman’s panicked voice pours from the phone.

“Rayne, please answer. Please answer! Oh god. I bet you don’t have signal, and I can’t find a phone number for this place. Listen, if you get this, my apartment was broken into. Someone stole my laptop. There’s a chance…” Her voice chokes up. She releases a sob. “Oh god. There’s a chance that he might know where you are, Rayne. Every detail about your trip is on that computer, in my records.”

The message ends with Helen crying into the phone, then silence.

Rayne’s shoulders are tense as she exits out of the voicemails and reads through her massive pile of texts.

“No,” she breathes.

“What? What is it?”

It takes everything in me not to tear the phone from her hands, to read through the messages myself. Her expression is haunted as she looks up at me.

“It’s him. It has to be. There is a whole trail here, where Helen got robbed, then she got the authorities involved but they couldn’t find any prints. A skill he could have easily picked up in prison, if not before. It all adds up. Nobody else would rob her for that computer. They’d have to know there’s information about my whereabouts on it.”

Her voice rises in pitch as she talks. She’s on the brink of totally losing it. She jabs her phone with her finger and presses it against her ear. In the quiet of the mountaintop a phone rings.

“Rayne!” Helen’s voice jumps from the phone.

Rayne’s tone completely changes. “Helen. I haven’t had signal. I got all your messages. I’m sorry to have worried you.”

“I’m so glad to hear your voice. I thought surely…”

Rayne’s eyes meet mine, and I can tell that her tone is a ruse. She’s freaking out, but by her voice you would never guess.

It’s an impressive display of self-control. I’ll give her that.

“What did the cops say when you brought them in?” Rayne asks.

“I tried to tell them of your suspicions. That Larry Corker wants revenge on you. They rolled their eyes at me, Rayne.”

Helen cries again, and Rayne’s shoulders tense a little more, if that’s possible.

“Helen, don’t panic. I’ve got help up here. We’re going to be fine. Are you OK?”

“I think so. I’m so sorry, Rayne.”

“Helen, you have nothing to apologize for, do you hear me? You keep safe down there, and I’ll work with the authorities up here. Everything is going to be fine.”

Helen sniffles through the phone. “I hope so. I’m so scared for you, Rayne.”

“I’m not,” she says, and her gaze lands on mine. “I’ve got good help on my side.”

She may sound convincing, but there’s doubt in her face. She spends another minute or so consoling Helen, assuring her that she’ll be fine, and then she ends the call. When she does, I prepare to catch her. She slumps like she’s about to collapse. I reach out and grip her forearms to hold her steady.

“Nice act,” I say.

“I’m so screwed. He’s after me. Just like he promised. Just like he always said he would be.”

“Rayne, it’s going to be fine.”

When she meets my gaze, her eyes are wide with terror. “It’s going to be OK? Have you ever had the threat of a murderer chasing you half your life? I’ve seen some things, Lorn. I’m not going to be fine. I’m going to be dead, just like my father!” Tears leak from her eyes and stream down her cheeks.

I force her to look at me. “Rayne, listen to me. I do know what it’s like, on some level. You think a man like my father didn’t have enemies? I didn’t let it alter the way I lived my life, though. I didn’t let them win. Don’t let Larry win. The more you let fear dictate your life, the greater his victory. Don’t!”

“I’m not like you, Lorn. I’m not a giant of a man. I can’t intimidate people away from me. It’s totally different.”

“No, it is not different. You are tough as hell. You are a survivor. Your father died, but you lived. Don’t let that fact be in vain. What would your father want you to do?”

That jars her a bit. She steps back, and her gaze shoots wildly around the mountains. “He would want me to live my life, to be happy. To be content.”

“And how long since you’ve been any of those things?”

Another fat tear falls from Rayne’s eyes. It’s rough, but she’s not listening to gentle.

I take a step closer. “You are in charge of your own life. It’s about time you lived it, don’t you think?”

She crosses her arms around her middle, like somehow that will hold her broken pieces together. “How can I, when the police won’t believe me?” she whispers.

I hold out my hand for her phone. “Now that is a problem I can help solve.”

She stares up at me in confusion, but she hands over the phone. I dial the sheriff’s private number as the snow picks up around us, the wind swirling in a series of tiny torrents.

“Sherriff Grange. What seems to be the trouble?”

“Roger. It’s Lorn.”

“Lorn! What’s going on? You having trouble up at the cabin?”

“A bit. I have a guest here who has reason to believe that she’s been followed by a dangerous man. City authorities aren’t taking her seriously…”

That’s the magic set of words.

Roger huffs into the phone. “City police. Humph! What do they know? They have so much crime they can’t see a real criminal when he looks them in the face. We’ll look into this, Lorn, don’t you worry.”

“Great,” I say. It’s good to get some backup.

“Problem is, storm’s blowing in. We won’t be able to make it up the mountain until it dies down.”

“I understand.”

“Can you hold down the fort until then?”

“Of course. I always do.”

“Look out for yourself, Lorn. And do you have any information on this stalker?”

I tell him Larry’s name and background, at least what I know from Rayne’s stories.

“Great, that’s helpful. We’ll do a background check here and see what we can find. Until we can get up, take every precaution.”

“I will. Thanks, Roger.”

“You bet.”

The phone call ends and I look at Rayne. Her skin has gone ghostly white, and she collapses to the ground.