Mystery Child. Shirlee McCoy

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СКАЧАТЬ up. With all the screaming Jubilee had done, Malone would have expected a guy like August to come running. He had ex-marine written all over him—quiet, gruff and not too keen on strangers showing up in the darkest hours of the morning. Not surprising. Chance had done a background check before he’d called Malone. According to him, August had served in the Marine Corps until three years ago. He’d taken a medical discharge, then, and had worked private security ever since.

      Malone had spent forty minutes with the guy, and he could say for certain that August didn’t do patience, he didn’t believe in waiting and he’d never hold back when he could be taking action.

      Unless something kept him from doing it.

      Or someone.

      Malone didn’t believe in leaving anyone behind, but he couldn’t risk Quinn and Jubilee’s lives. He’d bring them back to August’s place. Once he made sure they were secure there, he’d return for August.

      What he wouldn’t do was the expected.

      Quinn’s Jeep and August’s vehicle were at the top of the ridge. If someone wanted to stage an ambush, that would be the place to do it.

      “Change of plans,” he said, taking Jubilee from Quinn’s arms. “We’re going to walk to your brother’s place.”

      “I can carry her.” Quinn reached for Jubilee.

      “That will slow us down.”

      “I ran through the woods with her in my arms. I think I can manage a short hike.”

      “You can, but is it the safest option?”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “Jubilee was screaming like a banshee, and your brother didn’t show up. That could be because he was a good distance away and wasn’t sure what direction the screams were coming from, or it could be because someone stopped him.” He didn’t hold back, didn’t have time to soften his answer.

      “That’s not a pleasant thought.”

      “No. It’s not. Neither is the thought of you carrying Jubilee if some guy comes charging after us. She’s little but so are you, and it will be a lot easier for me to run with her than for you to.”

      “I prefer petite to little,” Quinn muttered, moving beside him as he followed the ridgeline. She took two strides for every one of his, her small frame drowning in an oversize sweatshirt.

      “If you’re dead,” he responded bluntly, “I guess that won’t matter.”

      She didn’t respond.

      He guessed she’d gotten the point.

      Stella would have had a field day reaming him out for his less-than-delicate approach. Fortunately, she wasn’t there. Something was going on, and until Malone knew what it was, he didn’t have time to waste playing nice.

      He jogged through the trees, the kid’s long braids slapping his shoulders and face. She had a bruise on her cheek. He could see the dark smudge of it against her pale skin. He thought there were freckles on her nose, too.

      Freckles and red hair?

      He didn’t ask Quinn. No talking. As little noise as possible. Every cell in his body focused on getting them out of the woods and to safety.

      Up ahead, a shadow moved through the trees. Silent, barely visible in the darkness. Malone reached for Quinn’s hand, yanked her behind a huge evergreen.

      “What—?”

      He pressed his finger to her lips, gestured for her to be quiet. For a moment, he heard nothing. Then, furtive steps. The hunter on the prowl. He handed Jubilee to Quinn, pressed them both deeper into the pine needles.

      “Stay here until I come back for you,” he whispered in Quinn’s ear, the words more breath than sound.

      She nodded her understanding, and then he slid back into the forest, heading for the shadowy figure that was stalking them.

TWO

      Quinn had never liked horror movies. Right at the moment, she felt as if she were living in one. Only this wasn’t a movie. This was real-life terror. This was her alone in the woods with an innocent life depending on her. She didn’t know where the guy had gone. She didn’t even know what his name was. All she knew was that he’d told her to stay put until he returned.

      From where?

      That’s what she needed to know.

      Had he seen something?

      Heard something?

      How long should she wait?

      Ten minutes?

      Twenty?

      Jubilee’s head rested on her shoulder, her hand lax against Quinn’s bicep. She was exhausted, of course. Probably terrified, too. She’d been left with a stranger, carted hundreds of miles away from her home, and now she was in the dark woods waiting for something horrible to happen.

      Quinn wanted to ease out from behind the tree and creep through the woods until she found her brother’s house. She was afraid, though, terrified of making a mistake. If Cory were here, he’d know what to do. A deputy sheriff in Echo Lake, he’d always known exactly what every situation required. He wasn’t there, though, and Quinn would have to figure this out on her own.

      Somewhere beyond the tree, leaves crackled. She waited, expecting to hear men’s voices, a shouted warning. Fist against flesh. Something. Anything.

      She heard nothing but that soft crackling sound.

      She edged back until she was wedged between pine boughs, the sharp, tangy scent of broken needles filling her nose. Jubilee had gone still, one hand clutching the little bag of chocolate candy she’d been given, the other clutching a fistful of Quinn’s jacket.

      She still hadn’t spoken, but those screams? They’d probably stay with Quinn for the rest of her life. They’d been the sound of profound terror. No child should ever have to feel that. She shifted her grip on Jubilee, listening for any sign that August’s friend was returning. Friend? Maybe. Quinn had no idea who the guy really was. He hadn’t introduced himself, and she hadn’t thought to ask how he knew her brother. She hadn’t gotten a good look at his face, either. She had noticed the scar that bisected his cheek, though. If she’d met him before, she’d have remembered that.

      Jubilee shoved against her arms, trying to wiggle down. Quinn held tight. No way was she putting the child down, but August’s friend had been right about one thing—running with a five-year-old in her arms wasn’t going to be easy. Quinn had her mother Alison’s build—small-boned, short, thin. Her sprint from the Jeep had been fed by adrenaline. Now, she felt tired, her arms aching, her legs trembling. Still, she wanted to run. She just wasn’t sure what direction to go.

      They couldn’t stay there forever.

      Eventually, the night would pass, day would dawn, and they’d be sitting СКАЧАТЬ