In the beginning it made perfect sense for Hannah and her boys to take the main house, while they used part of the lower level for offices. Creed insisted on a loft apartment above the dog kennels for himself. He told Hannah that he wanted to be close by to protect and care for their most valuable commodity.
Truth was, the dogs were his one constant and reliable comfort in life. And although a loft apartment above the dog kennels sounded odd, Creed had spared no expense. The open floor plan included a high-beamed cathedral ceiling, lots of windows, cherrywood floors, a wall of built-in bookcases, and a gourmet kitchen. Because he was on the road so much of the time, he had tried to create a retreat as much as a home for himself.
Still at the window, Creed noticed that the spray of rain had stopped as the wind decreased. He could see the storm clouds rolling away, the bolts of lightning reduced to flickers. The smudge of daybreak glowed orange. Now he could see the main house lights come on, one by one, while his loft remained dark.
He glanced back at the digital alarm clock, which remained unlit. The good news was that it wasn’t a widespread power outage. The bad news was that the lightning must have zapped the kennels and his loft apartment, again. This was the third time in two months.
Time to call an electrician.
Just as Creed reached for his jeans, he noticed headlights at the end of the long driveway. The vehicle had turned in, but slowed down and then stopped. The driveway was almost a quarter of a mile long, but Creed could see the entire length of it from his perch. He’d purposely made it long to keep them as far off the main road as possible. Sometimes people got lost and used it to turn around. Maybe someone had gotten lost in the storm.
He was about to shrug it off. But the vehicle didn’t move. And then the headlights went out. For some reason the words of Liz Bailey’s father came back to Creed: “Watch your back.”
8
During the ten minutes that it took Creed to pull on clothes and make it to the main house, the vehicle at the end of the driveway had not moved. He knocked before he opened the back door that led into the kitchen. The scent of cinnamon, baked bread, bacon, and coffee stopped him in his tracks. It wasn’t until Hannah looked up and scowled at the shotgun in his hands that he remembered why he had been concerned.
“You going hunting?” she asked him as she wiped her hands and glided her large frame effortlessly from one task to another. “Otherwise, I don’t appreciate a gun in my kitchen.”
He glanced around before he remembered her boys were at Hannah’s grandparents’ farm for their annual two-week summer adventure. Finally he told her, “There’s a vehicle stopped at the end of the driveway.”
“Probably just someone waiting out the storm.”
“It pulled in after the rain stopped.”
“So you’re gonna go shoot ’em?” She said it with a straight face, all matter-of-fact, with not a hint of sarcasm or humor. Hannah always had a way of defusing his paranoia and making what he believed was a perfectly reasonable decision sound ridiculous.
“No, of course not. Maybe scare them a little.”
He set the shotgun aside and squatted down to pet Lady, a black-and-white border collie. She greeted him with a head-butt to his thigh, making him smile and realize that she redefined the term “lady,” but then so did Hannah, who had chosen the name for her.
Creed had found the dog along Highway 98. She’d been the victim of a hit-and-run. Her pelvis had been crushed. No tags and no one claimed her. Bright-eyed and scared, she still allowed him to pick her up. She wasn’t the first dog they had mended back together. Lady, however, had failed miserably as a scent dog. She was always more interested in rounding up everyone than searching out any of the surrounding smells. Her natural instinct did make her the perfect companion for Hannah’s two boys, as she watched over them and herded them away from danger.
And now Creed wondered if perhaps he was simply being overprotective. Had the incident on the boat spooked him into thinking a drug cartel would bother to come after him? Hannah was right. It was ridiculous. If they did send a hit squad, they wouldn’t be so obvious as to park at the end of his driveway.
When he looked up he noticed Hannah had stopped her morning routine and was staring at him, hands on her hips, those brown eyes inspecting and examining him. He’d never been able to hide anything from her.
“Something happen yesterday? You didn’t stop at the house last night.”
He stood and rubbed at his bristled jaw, but he felt it go tight despite his effort to stop it. “We found five kids.”
“I thought you were searching for drugs on a fishing boat.”
“We were. A seventy-foot long-liner with about eighty thousand pounds of mahi-mahi. Coast Guard had been tracking it. It had its hold full and was headed south to leave the Gulf.”
“Doing a pickup out in the middle of the water?”
“That was the suspicion, but there wasn’t any cocaine. Grace found five kids. Hidden under the floorboards.”
“Good Lord! Stowaways?”
“No.” He shook his head, and his eyes left the kitchen, looking out the window as the sun crested through the trees. “Not stowaways.” He realized how much he didn’t want to think about it anymore. Didn’t want to even talk about it. The incident on the boat was probably what had brought on his nightmare about Brodie.
“They’re trafficking kids now,” she said without waiting for an explanation.
She turned back to the stove, still shaking her head, but thankfully not expecting Creed to tell her more. At least not now.
“That’s a lot of food.” He needed to focus on something else and already found his mouth watering from the combination of aromas. Breakfast foods were always his favorite comfort foods.
“Andy’s taking everyone through basic drills this morning.”
“I’ll be out at the kennels if anyone needs me. Electricity is out.”
“Again? Seems like every time we have lightning, it’s knocking it out. You sure you don’t have one too many gadgets that’s tripping everything up?”
“The more self-reliant the dogs are, the less work around here.”
She rolled her eyes at him. It was an old argument, but the truth was, Creed wasn’t completely comfortable using so much automation for this exact reason. What happens when the power is out? He liked using the most advanced technology available, as long as he could have a backup system if anything malfunctioned.
“I’ve got everything running on auxiliary for now. I think I might be able to mess with it and get it back running.”
“I’ll check at Segway House and see if we have any electricians. Wouldn’t hurt to have a professional take a look. You know I don’t like you messin’ with hot wires. Believe me, you would not look good with curly hair.”
“Very funny.”
That’s when Creed saw the headlights coming up the driveway. “Looks like our stalker decided to be sociable after all.”
Hannah glanced out the window.
“Oh mercy, I forgot to tell you. I hired a new worker.” She started shutting off burners, putting on lids, and setting aside utensils. “Figures he’d be early.”
“So early that he had to sit and wait at the end of our driveway?” He slipped back into his anger.
“Now be nice, Rye. This guy’s had a tough time. He reminds me a little bit of you.”