The Alpha's Mate (23 page)

She started making a mental list and buzzed
through the store at lightning speed. She hadn’t counted on the
number of other shoppers, however, and her time in line ate up more
precious daylight than she’d planned. As she pushed her cart
through the parking lot, she noticed an SUV, similar to the one
she’d seen before, parked several aisles over. She paused nervously
and then chided herself for being such a wimp. There were hundreds
of those things on the road and she couldn’t panic and run every
time she saw one.

She left the parking lot and turned onto the
highway. There was enough traffic that it kept her mind off the
afternoon’s events until she took the turn that would take her to
Rabbit Creek. There was one car ahead of her and several far enough
behind that she couldn’t recognize make or model. Nothing strange
in that. People up here worked down below as they called it and had
shopping to do just as she did. It was dusk and the cloudy skies
added to the gloom. Her headlights came on.

The car in front of her turned off as did the
one behind her. “You see,” she told herself, “People coming home
just like you. Stop being such a baby.”

Her next turn came up and she couldn’t help
it. She watched for headlights behind her. There were none. She
breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at her watch. It was later
than she thought and as always, the sun set early behind the trees.
One minute it was daylight, the next it was dark. She rounded the
next curve, keeping a close eye on the wet road.

She heard it before she saw it. Above the
purr of her truck’s engine came the roar of another. There were no
headlights behind her and yet suddenly a vehicle was there and the
lights flashed on high, blinding her in the reflection from her
rearview mirror.

Chapter 23

It was too close for her to see if it was
another truck or the SUV she feared. But she knew. She knew.

She was thrown forward as the little truck
was nudged from behind and she gripped the wheel, jerking it as she
did. The truck swerved to the side and she righted it, her mind
spinning along with the wheel.

She stepped on the gas and pulled a little
ahead, but she knew the vehicle behind her had allowed it. It was
bigger and more powerful than her baby truck and could run her over
if it chose to. She had a moment to glimpse the big, black body
before it’s lights went off again. It was the SUV. She was sure of
it.

She hit a pothole disguised as a puddle. The
little red truck bounced so hard it jarred her teeth. Her seatbelt
dug painfully into her shoulder. Her groceries were scattered over
the seat and across the floor. She used her left foot to kick some
away from the brake pedal and thought incongruously about the
dinner she had planned for Marshall. She prayed she lived through
this night to cook it.

There were a few lanes branching off this
road, but she had no idea where they led or how she would be
greeted at the end of them. Surely no one would turn her away, but
her surprise arrival could place them in danger. And what if no one
lived at the end of the lane she chose? Some only led to farm
fields, she knew, and she would end up with no way out. She
couldn’t outrun those men on foot.

The vehicle behind her was speeding up. She
could hear it in the sound of the engine. Again, the lights
flashed, blinding her. She braced for the bump, but was no better
prepared when it came. She fought for control as the truck swerved
toward the trees, skidding on the wet gravel. She brought the truck
back onto the road and let the steering wheel go long enough with
her right hand to slap the mirror down. She wouldn’t be caught by
the blinding light next time. And there would be a next time. She
was sure of it.

She barely had time to grab the wheel before
it came again. This time it was more than a bump and the little
truck shot forward from the impact. Water spewed to either side as
she careened through a low spot in the road.

A picture of boots flashed through her mind.
They all wore those pointy toed western boots. The same kind that
had left their marks on Max’s torn and bloodied body; the same
marks that would have been made by Charles’ boots, the snakeskin
ones that she’d so admired. Not on my agenda; the words that saved
Max from a worse torment. Which one of them had said it?

“
Please God, no
!” she prayed and she
was hit from behind again. They were going to do to her what they’d
done to Max. She tried to remember what Max had said about the
tactics they’d used until the poor girl had no choice but to stop
for the fallen tree.

In her side view mirror, she saw the dark
shadow slide to the left and pick up speed. They were going to
crowd her off the road. She hit the gas, shot forward and moved to
the center of the road. They hit her anyway; their right front
bumper catching her left rear. She felt the truck fishtail with the
impact, but the curve ahead saved her. She spun into it, never
taking her foot from the gas, fishtailed again into another curve
and kept moving, too terrorized to even check where the SUV was
behind her. Her only chance was to make it to Rabbit Creek.

Water and gravel flew as she took the turns
too fast. Once, she was sure two wheels left the roadbed and the
truck wobbled dangerously when they reconnected. Amazingly, the
truck stayed upright.

Twice more they hit her and twice more she
evaded the worst of it. Their intentions were clear. They didn’t
want to kill her. If they did, she would be dead by now. She didn’t
know which was more frightening.

She wondered if they were enjoying her terror
at their cat and mouse game and decided from what little she’d seen
they probably were. They’d shown no sympathy for Max when they beat
her senseless and she looked to be no more than a child. Her fear
had added to their pleasure and they would have done more if
someone else hadn’t stopped them.

“Marshall!” she screamed aloud. Where was the
damned cop when you needed him?

Rabbit Creek was just ahead and she almost
cried with relief until she remembered Mr. Begley’s words.

“No night life, I’m afraid,” he’d told her,
“They roll up the sidewalks at 8 PM.”

He wasn’t kidding. The sidewalks were still
there, but there was no one on them. The place was dark and
deserted, dimly lit security lights the only evidence the buildings
weren’t vacant and abandoned. She laid on the horn, hoping someone,
anyone would notice. Its little beep-beep echoed in the
stillness.

Surely someone would be at Town Hall. Harmony
had answered before in the middle of the night. But Town Hall was
as deserted as the rest of Main Street and she recalled someone
saying that after six, Harmony transferred all calls to her home.
She knew there were homes along the few side streets. Ruby lived on
one of them and Maggie on another, but she wasn’t sure where and it
would mean finding a place to turn around. She glanced behind her,
weighing the options.

The SUV had disappeared.

Elizabeth kept up her speed, slowing just
enough to insure her safety weaving upward and around the mountain.
Maybe her pursuers didn’t realize that Rabbit Creek was a ghost
town at night. Her mind had been so reeling with both panic and
relief, she hadn’t noticed when they pulled off.

She was shaking uncontrollably and she
started to cry.

“Stop it!” she said angrily. “It’s over. You
won.”

Her words were similar to those spoken by
Creepy Eyes to Charles, but by the gesture and vicious laughter
that followed Charles’ leaving, she didn’t think Charles had won
anything at all. Had she?

She decided it would be safest to head for
Marshall’s. She needed to report this both to him as Chief of
Police and as the Alpha. And, she admitted, she didn’t want to go
home alone to the empty cabin. She wanted Marshall’s arms around
her. She wanted to feel his strength and hear him reassure her that
everything would be all right.

She tried to remember the turning for his
lane from the night of her car accident. Using the path was so
easy. The Home Place at one end, Marshall’s at the other, but the
road wasn’t straight and she wasn’t sure how far she had to go.
She’d only come by the road that once and it was from the other
direction.

She was concentrating so thoroughly on the
side of the road, looking for something familiar that would tell
her where she was, she almost missed the dark shadow looming up
behind her. Again it was sound not sight that warned her.

“Marshall!” she screamed as the monster
behind her struck again. She should have known they wouldn’t give
up. When she first saw they were gone, she should have turned back
into town, found the first house with lights on and asked for
help.

But maybe that’s what they’d been waiting for
her to do. Maybe she never would have made it to the front door.
And then she remembered how they’d finally trapped Max. Surely
there hadn’t been time for them to block the road. Unless, of
course, they weren’t working alone.

“Marshall!” she cried again as she rounded
another curve, weaving back and forth, doing what she could to
throw them off their plan. In the flash of her headlights as she
came through yet another curve, she caught a glimpse up ahead of a
bright neon orange mailbox. It wasn’t Marshall’s, but one of the
women had laughed about it, saying it had been hit so many times
before, the paint only made it easier to aim at. But it sure made
Goodman’s real easy to find. She was almost there.

She was watching for the lane and looking
back at the SUV still on her tail, wondering why it hadn’t struck
her again. She looked up at the road ahead. A wolf was standing in
the middle of it.

She could only see its dark outline and at
first, she thought it was Marshall. She was safe. She started to
apply the brakes, not caring now how close the SUV might be when
the wolf looked up and into her headlights. It had strange yellow
eyes.

“No!” she screamed and her foot slid from the
brake and back to the gas.

The wolf’s look of shock and surprise as it
tried to leap out of the way gave her a moment’s satisfaction, even
more so when she felt the thud of her bumper clipping its side. Her
satisfaction was short lived however, when she realized the
momentum of her action had taken her past the entrance to
Marshall’s.

She was crying openly now, calling,
“Marshall! Marshall!” over and over in her mind. The sight of the
SUV receding in her mirror brought her no comfort. She’d been
fooled once before.

The Home Place called to her. The shotgun was
there and Maggie had left her a box of shells. She had only
minutes. She knew they would find her.

Elizabeth pressed the pedal to the floor.

Chapter 24

She blew the horn again, but here in the
forest the little toot-toot would be swallowed by the trees. Still,
she blew it again and screamed as the speeding truck hit a hump in
the road and went airborne. She was sure something had broken when
she bottomed out upon landing, but the truck kept moving.

She thought she saw the flicker of lights
behind her and she spun into her drive, too fast for the narrow
opening. The truck fishtailed again, swerved into the ditch at the
side and miraculously bounced out again as she desperately gripped
the wheel. She turned her lights off and aimed for the light on the
porch. This was a race she couldn’t afford to lose. She slammed on
her brakes and skidded to a stop inches from the back steps.

Elizabeth scrambled up the steps on hands and
feet. The keys in her hand dug painfully into her palm. It seemed
to take forever to get her key in the lock. She kept looking over
her shoulder, listening for the roar of the SUV’s engine.

Once inside, she threw the bolt, turned the
porch light off and ran to the mantle where the shotgun lay. She
loaded it and stuffed her pockets with the extra shells. She
checked the front door to insure it was barred and then dragged one
of the high backed chairs to the kitchen to block the locked door.
It wouldn’t stop anyone from entering, but it would be a hindrance.
She propped a pan on the edge of the seat. If the chair was moved,
she’d hear the pan fall.

She ran back to the living room, shoved the
remaining wing chair into the corner and stood behind it, the
shotgun propped on the back ready to fire at whoever entered the
room from any direction.

Her heart was pounding, her breath coming in
frightened gasps. Her whole body was shaking and the shotgun
rattled in her hands.

“
Oh, Marshall, please
,” she begged in
her mind. She wasn’t built for this. She wasn’t raised for this.
She was raised for tennis on Saturday afternoons, fine restaurants
and benefit dances at the club. The sales women at Neiman Marcus
knew her name, for heaven’s sake. Or at least they knew her
mother’s. Before coming here, the most aggressive confrontation
she’d ever seen was two middle aged matrons calling each other
names as they played tug-of-war with the last available copy of the
new Janet Evanovich number.

“Marshall! Do you hear me?” she silently
screamed, “I’m not ready to kill someone! It’s not in me.”

But it was and she hated the thought of it.
Maggie was right. When someone threatens to kill you or maim you
or… or use you to hurt others… She would fight back. It might not
be enough, but she would fight back. Maggie was right about that,
too. She wouldn’t run. She only had to wait it out until
daylight.

She risked a look at her watch. What felt
like hours was only minutes. Thirty to be exact. She couldn’t
maintain this kind of tension throughout the night. The adrenalin
would eventually diminish and she would collapse from nervous
exhaustion.