32. Lana
Lana
The text I sent to Ozzie whooshed off into the ether, and I had no idea if it made it. The little “Sent” confirmation appeared under it, but out here that didn’t mean much. The message could be sitting in a queue somewhere, waiting on a signal that might not come for an hour.
Some days, I really hated living up here.
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I glanced toward the house again. I couldn’t count on it reaching Ozzie. Which meant I couldn’t count on anyone but me to get Toren out of there and hopefully, detain Deke.
If it really was Deke inside.
But who else would it be? If Toren had a legitimate visitor, they’d have pulled up into the clearing and parked, not tried to stay hidden behind the bend in the driveway.
And that shout I heard earlier wasn’t one of surprise or happiness. There had been an edge to the man’s voice. It had to be Deke.
I pressed my forehead against the rough bark of the pine tree and made myself breathe and think instead of bolting toward the cabin like every cell in my body demanded.
Charging in blind was how we both died, and Deke got away again.
I knew that. I could hear my brother’s voice in my head—even Toren’s and Ozzie’s—telling me to play it smart.
So, smart was what I’d do.
Although, my definition of smart was not theirs. They’d want me to wait for help, but that wasn’t happening.
First, I needed more information.
I eased along the tree line, staying out of the open, my boots finding the soft carpet of needles where they wouldn’t crunch.
I kept low and kept moving, circling toward the side of the clearing, trying to get an angle—on a window, a door, anything that would tell me more than I had, which was a brutally short list.
No weapon. I’d left my car without so much as a tire iron. I could run back and get something, I supposed.
I filed that thought away as “Possible,” and moved on to what else I knew.
I didn’t have a way to signal Toren without showing myself in the open. I couldn’t take the chance, because without being able to see inside, I didn’t know which way he was facing. If I stepped out and waved my arms, it could be Deke who saw me.
That also meant crossing to the house was next to impossible. It sat in a clearing with little cover. Getting to it meant walking into the open.
I needed a distraction. Something that lasted long enough to get Deke’s attention focused in the opposite direction, so I could make a mad dash from the trees to the house without being seen.
I’d circled most of the way around the house now, taking note of Toren’s truck, the chicken run, a trailer, and various other small things lying around. None of it looked useful.
Eloise strutted past the front of Toren’s truck, clucking as she pecked at the ground.
Wait…
I looked at the chicken run. The gate was open. Beside it was the bag of treats.
My brain started turning over a plan before I’d fully formed the thought.
Chickens were loud. They were also, especially a certain large red one, chaos on legs.
A flock of them swarming the cabin, squawking at the top of their lungs, was exactly the kind of crazy nonsense that might make someone glance toward a window.
The plan was thin and a bit ridiculous. But it was all I had.
I crept through the trees to the door on the back of the barn and prayed it was unlocked. It should be. Toren didn’t lock much of anything around here. No one ever bothered anything this far out.
My thumb pressed the latch and I lifted the handle. The door swung inward.
Yes!
I stepped inside, letting my eyes adjust for a moment to the dim interior, then I hurried toward the portion near the front that Toren had walled off into a roost. Leaning against the back wall of it was the thing I was looking for.
The bag of chicken feed. Those treats he’d been using to get them inside were great, but if I tossed a handful of the grain, it could send them running and squawking wherever I wanted them to go.
Grabbing a bucket off the wall, I scooped some of the feed into it, then exited the barn the same way I entered and ran back into the trees, going a little deeper, so I could move more quickly without being seen.
Once I was around front, I clucked my tongue at the chickens to get their attention and rattled the bucket slightly. Their heads perked up, and a couple of them came trotting over.
I grabbed a fistful of the feed and chucked it toward the porch. It landed twenty feet from the house, but my goal wasn’t to get them to the house. It was to bring them around front, where they created a ruckus.
It worked. Sort of.
Three of the hens came waddling over, heads bobbing, falling on the scattered grain like they hadn’t eaten in a week.
A fourth followed, much more slowly, clucking as it strutted over to its sisters.
I tossed another handful, and the four of them clustered together, pecking the ground and flapping their wings at each other as they all tried to get a bit of the grain.
The small, feathered riot was exactly where I wanted it, but it wasn’t big enough.
They needed to be louder.
I scanned the yard. Where was Eloise?
My gaze paused near the woodpile by the side of the house. She was on top of it now, staring at me with those beady little eyes.
I sank back into the trees and circled around to the side of the house. Here, the trees were a little closer to the structure, but still too far away for me to make a run for it.
“All right, you little turd,” I whispered to the chicken. “It’s time for you to earn your keep and save your owner. He dies, no more chicken treats for you.”
She let out a soft cluck but didn’t move. She knew I didn’t have the treats, just her regular feed.
“Come here.” I tossed a bit of feed her way. “Come on, you horrible thing. Free snack. Do what I want, and I’ll give you all the treats you want later.”
Eloise looked at the feed, then back at me. She stayed put.
I tossed more. It plunked off the wood, and I winced, hoping that didn’t sound as loud inside the house as it did to me twenty feet from the woodpile. “Eloise,” I hissed. “I swear to God…”
She took one deliberate step backward, away from the grain, never breaking eye contact, like she knew exactly what I wanted and had decided, out of pure spite, to deny me on principle.
“Forget the treats. I’m going to fry you up for dinner when we get out of this.” I set the feed down with a huff.
Eloise hopped off the woodpile and strutted toward the trees.
A new plan formed as she got closer. One way or the other, that chicken was going to set off a ruckus. But first I needed to catch her.
As she neared the tree line, I crept closer, trying not to spook her. She continued to ignore me and do her own thing. I tipped my head, trying to decide how to do this. If I just pounced on her, she’d screech the forest down. She’d also peck and scratch me to death. How did people keep birds calm?
I thought about the falcon rescue places. They put hoods over the birds’ eyes. So, darkness, maybe?
It was worth a shot.
I took off my hoodie. It wasn’t the best thing for the job, but it would have to do.
Eloise pecked at the ground and walked within a few feet of the first line of pines.
That’s right, you little beast. Come closer… I edged toward her.
When I got within five feet of her, I waited until she turned her back to me, then pounced, throwing my sweatshirt over her head. Immediately, she sank to the ground, quiet.
Holy shit, it actually worked.
I scooped up the bird, tucking her under my arm and keeping the hoodie over her head. Retreating deeper into the forest, I walked back to where I left the feed, then glanced toward the porch. The rest of the chickens still pecked at the ground where I left them. A couple more had joined in.
Perfect.
I was only going to get one shot at this, so it had to be timed just right.
Tossing out a little more of the grain, I waited for the hens to get into a tighter group. When they were all nestled together, I maneuvered Eloise in front of me, still encased in the hoodie. She purred softly, content.
I shook my head. Who knew she could behave so nicely?
But right now, I didn’t need nice Eloise. I needed the war criminal who liked the taste of my blood.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I stepped out from behind the tree and threw the chicken as far as I could.