Читать книгу Christmas Blackout - Maggie K. Black - Страница 14

FIVE

Benjamin’s jaw dropped. Had the intruder grown so desperate she’d thrown the gun at the dog? Or had the dog somehow disarmed her? Either way, the husky was now holding the weapon, gingerly but firmly upside down by the handle. If the situation wasn’t so dangerous, he’d have laughed.

“I’ve got to go get that. You stay safe, okay? Just because she’s lost her gun doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous.”

“You, too.” Piper squeezed his arm, then she took off running barefoot down the stairs.

Harry was sitting now, gun still in his jaws, and his tail was wagging. Benjamin started up the loft stairs slowly, his hands raised. “Good dog. Give that to me. Careful. Okay?”

The dog set the gun down right between his paws, then he stepped back and waited for Benjamin.

“You are the best dog ever, you know that?” His eyes scanned the room. It was empty. He picked up the gun and slipped it into his pocket.

The sound of footsteps clattering on the fire escape drew his attention to the open window. He glanced out to see the blonde trying to break into a second-story window. “Hey! Stop!”

She glanced up, then pelted down the stairs.

He squeezed through the window and out into the storm. Freezing rain beat against his body. Cold metal stung his bare palms. His slippers pounded hard down the metal steps.

The blonde hit the ground and took off running through the ice-covered snow. Benjamin vaulted over the railing, catching her by the shoulder as they fell to the ground. The blonde kicked back frantically with both legs, and one lucky shot made contact with Benjamin’s jaw, just hard enough to make his numb hands loosen their grasp.

She slipped from his hands and kept running.

His hand reached for the gun. No, surely he could catch her on foot without taking the risk of seriously hurting or even killing her.

Benjamin ran after her into the woods. Hail pelted his bare skin like rocks. His slippers were swallowed up in slush. The motion sensor lights flickered on in the forest ahead. She could run all she wanted, but the trees were lighting up around her like Christmas. Benjamin’s legs ached. Thick branches heavy with snow pushed up against his body. His feet were bare now and numb.

A loud, guttural roar filled the air. He looked up just in time to see a bright light flying toward him. He leaped to the side. A neon yellow snowmobile swerved wildly through the trees, nearly knocking him over. Then it was gone.

He dropped to his knees as a groan filled his chest and left his lungs.

His fists hit the snow.

“Lord, was I wrong to show mercy?”

Yes, the woman had broken into Piper’s room. But it seemed she was just a young, scared thing trapped in something she didn’t understand. Under the circumstances he couldn’t have guaranteed a nonlethal shot and even then he’d seen firsthand the damage bullets could do. He could no more ruthlessly shoot her—without at least trying to stop her in a more merciful way—than he could shoot a frightened animal.

Not that wild animals weren’t lethal when spooked.

“Benjamin!” Piper was running toward him.

She had boots on her feet and a huge black cape enveloping her head. A new hockey stick was clutched in one hand. Harry trailed behind her, protective and alert.

She looked fierce. She looked vulnerable.

She was breathtaking.

There was something clunky slung around her neck. An unexpectedly hard heartbeat knocked his chest. His boots. She’d tied the laces together and tossed them around her before running out. She pulled his boots off over her head and handed them to him. There was a pair of oversize hockey socks stuffed inside one them. Not his, but they’d fit. His fingers brushed the back of her hand. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

He paused for a moment, once again feeling the urge to hug her and not knowing how she’d take it. It was funny. Surely he was practically an expert on offering comforting hugs by now—between hugging his sister, his friends, people at church and even clients who needed that bit of extra encouragement to try some extreme sport they’d never done before. Yet whenever he was around Piper he was suddenly awkward about it.

He knelt down and put his boots on. “I’m sorry. She got away. I thought I had her for a moment but she had a snowmobile.”

“Yellow with flame stickers? A neighbor reported it stolen this morning.”

“That’s the one.” He tied up the laces. Something warm and heavy fell unexpected around his shoulders. He stood carefully.

Piper had thrown her large wool cape around him so that now it enveloped them both. Then she slipped both hands around his waist and gave him a firm, strong squeeze. “Don’t beat yourself up, Benjamin. She had both a head start and a snowmobile. Now, come on, let’s get somewhere warm.”

She stepped back and slipped beside him again, holding her edge of the cloak with one hand. Conflicting thoughts flooded his mind, blocking his ability to think. She’d have been able to run so much faster if she hadn’t stopped to grab his boots, let alone a pair of socks. And she’d have been so much more nimble if she’d just grabbed her ski jacket, instead of an oversize cloak that was large enough to cover them both. She won’t let me take care of her. Yet here she is taking care of me.

“Just don’t freeze, okay?” Piper added. “You can’t be in a wedding on Christmas Eve or on an airplane Christmas night if you’ve got hypothermia and frostbite.”

“Thank you.” His voice sounded as if it was coming from somewhere deep inside his chest. He turned to look at her. She was standing so close that if he tilted his head down just an inch or two he’d be kissing her on the nose. He had to stop that line of thinking. “Hopefully, the mechanic will have my truck back on the road before lunchtime.”

She nodded slowly. “I just hope that when we get back to the house, the police will be waiting for us.”

But before they could start back, the lights went out, plunging them and the forest into darkness.

* * *

In a heartbeat the forest was so dark she could no longer see Benjamin’s face hovering just beside hers. The world fell silent, except for the beating of ice pellets on the trees.

“Did the motion-sensor lights go off?” he asked.

She could feel the cloak shake as he waved his hand around to reactivate them.

“They shouldn’t, no. They’re on a very long timer.” She pulled away from him and from the protection of the cloak. Then she waved both hands above her head. The world stayed dark. She glanced through the trees but saw only darkness. “We should also be able to see the house lights from here, but I can’t see them, either. The bad weather must’ve caused a short in the electrical circuit somewhere.”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay.” Benjamin’s arm landed on her shoulders, warm, soft and strong. “Do you have a backup generator?”

“Yeah. It’s in a shed by the garage. But it should have kicked in if the main power went out.” She frowned. They started walking as she talked. “Hopefully it’s just another quick power glitch. Fortunately, there’s a fireplace for warmth, the stove is gas and I’ve got plenty of battery-operated flashlights and lanterns.”

Benjamin kept pace beside her. She was in the crook of his shoulder now, with his arm holding the cape around her shoulder. His hand rested lightly on her forearm. A moment ago she’d hugged him without stopping to think. Now, in the darkness, the simple gesture of his hand on her arm somehow felt like more than she was ready for. But a part of her was grateful for the warmth he provided. Even through her gloves and cloak she could feel the cold and damp seeping through. Cold air and freezing rain stung her face. The dog slipped under the cloak between them. On this cold, wet night they all needed to stay warm. Even the dog knew that.

“I wish I knew if Blondie was Charlotte.” Slowly her eyes adjusted to the dark winter night. “But she was wearing a mask and trying to disguise her voice. Not to mention it’s been six years since Charlotte crashed through here like a tornado.”

“I’m not sure I’m clear on what happened between you and her back then,” Benjamin said.

Fair enough. For that matter neither was she.

“I did most of my college by correspondence, so I could be here to help my uncle and aunt. When I was twenty, I did one semester in Ottawa to finish up my degree. Charlotte had a two-bedroom apartment and had listed a room for rent online. I’d hoped we’d become friends, but we really weren’t. She was the kind of person who kept to herself and never made eye contact. Her life revolved around her history degree and her boyfriend, Alpha. Sometimes I’d catch bruises on her arms and I wondered if he was hurting her. But she wouldn’t talk to me. I was always planning on moving out at Christmas and coming home. So, I was really surprised when she asked if she could come here for the holidays.”

She glanced at the dark sky above. A flurry of falling ice filled her eyes. “She was on her phone with Alpha the whole car ride here. Sounded like he was yelling at her. We arrived and went to a church party with my old youth group. I barely saw her over the next couple of days. She kept slipping out and going places. I’d wake up in the night and her bed would be empty. Uncle Des just told me that he caught her kissing someone in the woods and chased the guy off. Described him as young, tall and broad-shouldered. I assume it was Alpha. I guess Alpha’s in his late twenties now. While there are a whole lot of things about this whole Charlotte-Alpha-Kodiak-Blondie situation that I don’t know, I am convinced that Blondie knows Alpha. You should have seen her panicked reaction when I mentioned his name. She’s terrified of him.”

Which could mean Blondie was Charlotte and the man with the bear tattoo was Alpha. Except that Blondie didn’t react at all when Piper had asked her about a man with a bear tattoo. She closed her eyes for a moment and listened to the storm pushing through the trees. Just when she thought the terrifying picture of what had happened these past few hours was swimming into some kind of focus, everything stopped making sense again.

Their footsteps crunched through the snow. Benjamin’s arm tightened around her shoulder. “You said she robbed you?”

“She did, Christmas Eve.” Piper opened her eyes. “While we were all down in the barn, singing carols and eating potluck, she snuck through the woods to The Downs and trashed the place.”

“When you say trashed the place—”

“She went through every room and all the guests’ things looking for stuff to steal. She ripped open presents. She knocked our Christmas tree through the front window and even smashed the nativity my aunt had on the fireplace mantel.”

They stepped out from under the shelter of the tree canopy into the storm, which seemed to have intensified. Benjamin pulled the cloak over their heads as they jogged to a small shed behind the garage. The shed was windowless, smelled like gasoline and was every bit as cold as the outside air. Harry slipped in ahead of them and curled up by the wall. Piper slipped out from under the cloak and let its full weight fall on Benjamin.

“We never had a lot of money.” She set down the hockey stick and reached for a small battery-powered lamp hanging just inside the door. “So almost all the decorations she destroyed were homemade, mostly by me, including the nativity she broke into bits. A lot of the handmade garlands she ripped into pieces I’d made when I was five or six. The star on the top of the tree was something I’d made out of vintage newspaper when I was about eight, and I couldn’t even find it in the wreckage. It was all too mean and petty for words.”

She ran her hand over her face. And I’m not even telling you the part about how she, or an accomplice, hit me over the head, knocked me out and locked me in the kindling box. Because even the memory of that makes me feel too pathetic and vulnerable for words.

Holding out the lantern, she made her way over to the generator that sat in the corner, silent and cold. She bent down beside it, pushed the button and held it. It didn’t start.

“I’m sorry. It must have been pretty hard to forgive her for all that.” Benjamin’s voice floated behind her in the darkness.

Was it even possible to forgive someone who’d never come back to ask for forgiveness?

She looked back up at Benjamin. “The generator’s not working. Any suggestions?”

“If it’s a motor problem I might be able to fix it. I’ve tinkered around with a lot of boat motors and vehicle engines.” He moved passed her and knelt by her feet. He reached up, took her hand and moved the light over the generator. “Just hold that there, please, and don’t move.”

Thick snow dotted his hair and beard. His eyes were gray-blue in the lamplight. Oddly, she hadn’t noticed the gray in them last summer. When he’d been standing outside waiting for her that last night on the dock by the pavilion, his eyes had seemed as dark and fathomless as the water spreading out behind him.

“Don’t ever marry a sweetheart until you’ve both summered and wintered your romance...” Something Aunt Cass had said flickered in the back of her mind. It had been her aunt’s way of trying to explain in the gentlest way possible why Piper’s mother’s whirlwind marriages never seemed to work.

But why was she remembering that now? She had no future with Benjamin. He wasn’t her sweetheart and this wasn’t a romance. He was just a friend and would be leaving as soon as his truck was repaired.

Benjamin muttered something under his breath. He stood.

“I’m sorry, Piper.” His hands brushed her shoulders. “But it looks like someone sabotaged your generator.”