Midnight Exposure (Midnight #1)(66)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR


A noise jerked Reed out of a light sleep. In his arms, a sated and exhausted Jayne slept on. Her sleek limbs were curled up, her smooth back pressed into his chest. Reed glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. Two hours remained until dawn. He listened for a few seconds, then pressed a kiss to her soft shoulder and rested his head on the pillow.

A low growl came from the other room. Where was the dog?

Reed eased away from Jayne and slid out from under the thick comforter into the cold of his bedroom. He stepped into a pair of jeans on his way into the hall. At the threshold to the living room, he paused, eyes searching the dim room.

Sheba stood facing the window. The dog growled again, deep in her throat. She took a stiff-legged step toward the back of the house. Keeping to the shadows, Reed moved to the side of the window and peered through the gap between the blinds and the wall. Behind the glass, darkness shrouded the yard.

His gaze scanned the tree-ringed clearing. Reed could just make out the dark shapes of trees and outbuildings on the all-white background. Something flashed in his peripheral vision. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled as he shifted his line of sight to the corner of his workshop. A dark shape faded into the shadows. Then it was gone.

Reed blinked. Had he imagined it? No. He’d seen something out there. He glanced down at the dog. And so had Sheba. Her ears were still pricked toward the window; her hackles stood on end. But what was outside?

An animal?

He eyed the doorframe above his workshop entrance and estimated the height of the shape was within a foot of the top trim. Deer, elk, moose, and bear were all tall enough.

So was a man.

Tension vibrated down Reed’s spine.

Could be nothing. Could be a moose. Hell, it could be his closest neighbor Jim, chasing after his kid’s pain-in-the-ass pony again.

But on the other hand…

Reed slipped back into the bedroom and glanced at Jayne, sleeping soundly, her face a perfect, pale oval in the darkness. One slim, bandaged hand poked out of the covers. Resolve solidified in his gut. He wouldn’t take the chance that a threat lurked outside. She’d been through enough.

Better safe than sorry.

“Jayne. Wake up,” he whispered on his way past the bed.

“Ugh.”

He entered the closet and sought the safe on the top shelf. For the first time in five years, he welcomed the weight of the nine-millimeter Glock in his hand. He curled his fingers around the familiar grip and removed the trigger lock before loading the weapon. The magazine slid smoothly into its well and clicked into place. Though he hadn’t carried the weapon, he’d practiced regularly and kept the gun clean.

Tucking the gun into his waistband, Reed ducked back into the bedroom and tapped Jayne on the shoulder. The metal was cold on his belly as he leaned over.

Reed tapped her again. “Come on, Jayne. Wake up. It’s important.”

Reed’s sharp whisper caught her awakening attention. She rolled over and blinked up at him. “What?”

“I saw something outside. I’m going to check it out.”

“No. Wait.” Jayne stumbled out of bed and grabbed his robe from the foot of the bed. She nodded at the gun. “Do you have another?”

“Can you shoot?”

Jayne nodded. Her eyes sharpened. “Oh, yeah.”

Reed retrieved his backup piece, a subcompact baby Glock, and pressed it and a magazine into Jayne’s outstretched hand. While he tugged a sweater over his head, she checked for a round in the chamber and loaded the weapon with reassuring competence.

Jayne followed him into the mudroom. He slid his bare feet into boots and drew on a parka. Then Reed headed for a littleused side door, where there wasn’t an overhead light fixture to highlight his presence. Pointing the barrel at the floor, he pulled back on the slide and released it. The bullet entered the chamber with a comforting snick.

The dog butted her head against the closed door and growled. Reed pushed her back. He didn’t need her getting in the way, tangling with a bear or whatever else was out there. If he needed to pull the trigger, he didn’t want to worry about hitting his dog. Nor did he want her to spoil any element of surprise. In the house. Sheba could protect Jayne. “Stay.”

Jayne grabbed her collar and tugged the dog away from the doorway. “Be careful.”

Sheba whined. Whatever was out there, she wanted a piece of it.

“Lock this behind me and stay out of sight.” Reed stepped off the small stoop. Ice crunched underfoot where the top layer had melted and refrozen. There was no way to walk silently, but he stayed in the shadows as he circled around the house. He stopped at the corner and peered around. Ice pellets blew off the roof and barraged his face.

His workshop sat on the rear of the yard, right at the edge of the trees. A man could move in the thick woods with less difficulty than out in the open, where the drifts were thigh-high. In his dark jacket, he’d be an optimal target against the backdrop of pure white. Reed scanned the area, looking for a place to cross the open space and come up behind the workshop.

He chose a line of shrubs. Adrenaline pumped hot through his veins as he crossed to the trees. Ice crunched underfoot. He exhaled as he stepped behind a mature oak. An intruder would have to be stone deaf not to hear him coming. He, however, didn’t hear any indication of a trespasser. Maybe it had been just an animal. Leaning against the fat trunk, he scanned the perimeter. The area behind the workshop was clear.