Читать книгу Cornwall and Redfern Mysteries 2-Book Bundle - Gloria Ferris - Страница 21

I noticed the stench first. My preoccupation nearly caused me to miss the low growling, but even had I been in a coma my nose would have detected the fetid reek emanating from the forest behind me.

Hugging my bag of food close to my chest, I turned my neck and saw the unblinking green eyes cutting through the black night. A snarl preceded another wave of wild animal scent. Bear!

My feet flew between the trailers and around to my stoop. I was certain I heard the bear crashing through the underbrush, snapping at my heels. This time the key found its mark at first try. Lucky, since I wouldn’t have had a second chance. As soon as I slammed the door shut and shot the bolt, a heavy thud sounded against the trailer wall, followed by a menacing growl. Starving bears were known to move down the Bruce Peninsula this far south in search of food, and I had heard stories of bears actually tearing doors right off their hinges.

The skin on my neck tightened as I waited for another assault on my aluminum door. I should have my bat, I thought, but the logical part of my mind knew a bat was no protection against a bear. I ran to my bedroom to get it anyway, stealing a peek out the tiny window. Nothing.

The bat under my arm, I pulled out my cell to call 911. I punched the 9 and the first 1, and stopped. The police would come around in response to my call. They would look for a bear, which they may or may not find. But the police might notice something suspicious around the Quigley trailer. When Ewan and Snake were released on bail, they would be really angry.

Bear or Ewan and Snake? The choice could kill me. I closed my BlackBerry and sat on the floor in the dark, my ear pressed against the door. It may have been hours, it may have been ten minutes, but I heard no further rumbling, and nothing clawed at the door from the other side.

I was still holding my plastic bag. Knowing bears could smell food from miles away, I got up and stowed the bag in the fridge. I called Rae’s number, but there was no answer. I left a message warning her about the bear.

I really, really hated nature. I could hardly wait to move back to town where sidewalks and pruned bushes discouraged wild animals, and the worst thing you could meet in the dark was a Doberman on a leash or your neighbour mooning you in the backyard. I’d take a bare ass over a wild bear any day.

Even though I had to pee, I didn’t dare go outside and climb the hill to the recreation building. A full bladder and terror are not conducive to restful sleep, but exhaustion finally claimed me and Morpheus held me in a steely grip until a pain in my abdomen woke me at first light.

The pain was my bladder about to let go. Frantically, I tried to think of something to use as a receptacle. Pulling open the only cupboard in the trailer, I surveyed the possibilities. One small pot and one plastic bowl. Not enough, even combined.

Unlocking the door, I stuck my head out and sniffed. Cooking odours drifted from the Quigley trailer. Vanilla and some other unfamiliar seasoning. No musty bear odour.

Bat in hand, I scurried around back and sought out a suitable spot. Not that I had time to be fussy, but I needed privacy. Finding a clump of low-growing wild junipers, I climbed into the middle and hunkered down to business.

Junipers have short, scratchy needles, and the dried leaves I was forced to use in lieu of two-ply were going to leave serious scars. Just as I pulled up my undies, which were beginning to resemble a shredded thong, I heard crackling nearby. Something was shuffling through the deep blanket of pine needles that carpeted the forest floor. And it was coming my way.

I squatted down again and my fingers found the bat. Dragging it behind, I crawled deeper into the junipers. I couldn’t smell the bear, but if it was out there it would be able to smell me. It was too late to run.

The shuffling became louder and closer and, just as I imagined the pain of thick, sharp claws closing on the skin of my neck, someone spoke.

The voice was no farther than five or six feet from my juniper cave. I scrunched up in a ball and tried not to whimper.

“You shouldn’t be here, man. It’s too close to ground zero. We could meet somewhere tonight.” The voice was low and gravelly.

Oh boy. Snake. I could only pray that my red tee-shirt didn’t show through the branches of the junipers. I pulled the back of the shirt down over my rump.

“I parked on the concession road and walked in. I know it’s dangerous, but you need to know what’s happening in town.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth to thwart the cry of surprise that almost leapt from my throat. It couldn’t be …

“I’ll walk back to the road with you. It’s almost sunrise and Miss Bliss, for one, is up pretty early.” Snake sniggered.

Chief Redfern laughed right along with his friend. “We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t screw up the whole deal. She hasn’t mentioned you, which makes me suspicious. Any other woman would run screaming to the cops about the big, bad biker in the woods, but not her. I think …”

The words faded out and I lay shaking on the damp ground under my green canopy. Redfern was crooked. Who would better know the intricacies of the drug trade than a former drug cop from Toronto? Maybe the years of watching endless amounts of illegal money flow around him, combined with the unexpected death of his wife, made him cynical, and he had turned into one of the bad guys. Thank God I hadn’t confided in him about my fear of Ewan and Snake.

I remembered the bear and shot up out of the junipers. Ignoring my bare feet, I ran back to my trailer where I pulled on my overalls and started stuffing a change of clothes and some toiletries into a plastic bag. I locked the trailer behind me and fled to the clearing where my Savage waited. Barely taking the time to buckle on my helmet, I pushed the bag and my leather jacket into the saddlebag and sped away from Hemp Hollow.