Page 84 of Whispers and Wildfire

Tantalizing, but so uncomfortable.

“Thanks for checking up on me,” he said.

“You’re welcome. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of people taking care of you, so you don’t need me.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to reply but hesitated. He closed it again, and I decided I probably didn’t want to hear what he’d been about to say.

Without another word, I was out the door.

Our place

ROSWELL MILLS

I stoodoutside my car and breathed in the dry mountain air. The heat pressed at me from all sides, making a bead of sweat drip down my spine, and a sheen of dust from the gravel road settled on everything.

But none of that bothered me. I was near Tilikum. And that was where she was.

I hadn’t seen her yet. When I’d arrived in town, it had been tempting to drive around, circling the main roads on the off chance I might run into her. Even just a glimpse would help sate my growing hunger.

But I couldn’t let my passions get away from me. There was too much to do, too many ways this could all go wrong. I only had one shot to get it right. Everything had to be in place—everything perfect—before I made my move.

The first thing I needed was a place to bring her.

It would be our place, for a time at least. I couldn’t expect to keep her near her hometown for long. But there would be a time of acclimation, of teaching. She’d need to get used to the way things were going to be.

Eventually, we’d go somewhere else. Where, I hadn’t decided yet. Out of the country would be ideal. Somewhere tropical, maybe. I wondered if she’d like that—living where it was warm all the time.

It didn’t really matter. Wherever I took her, she’d learn to like it.

I eyed the cabin where I’d stopped. It looked small from the outside, but I wasn’t worried about that. It had the two most important things I was looking for—isolation and a basement.

Beyond the clearing that passed for a small yard, pine forest stretched out in every direction. I’d driven down a long dirt road to get there, and there wasn’t a neighbor in sight.

So far, it looked perfect.

The owner hadn’t asked many questions, either. That had been another plus. I had a new identity, so I wasn’t concerned about anyone finding out who I was, or that I’d just been released from prison. People had no idea how easy it was to fake your identity, if you knew the right sources.

I did. Prison had taken care of that for me.

So I was no longer Roswell Mills from Tennessee. I’d become Colton Broward from Colorado without a hitch.

The cabin was an hour or so from Tilikum, closer to the neighboring town of Echo Creek. The owner had said it was usually rented by hunters. It had plumbing, and a generator supplied electricity.

I’d concocted a story about being a writer on a deadline who needed quiet and privacy to finish my book. He hadn’t seemed to care, just wanted the cash payment up front.

Jingling the key he’d given me, I went up to the front door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.

The air was musty, and the furniture was old and worn. The walls were decorated with mounted antlers and a large, faded map of the Cascades. It had a small kitchen withancient, olive-green appliances, and an old wood stove with a cooktop.

The single bedroom had two sets of bunk beds, and there was a small bathroom with a cracked mirror. Not exactly luxury accommodations, but that didn’t matter. I’d lived in much worse. And this was only temporary.

My body trembled with anticipation as I went back to the kitchen and opened the door to the basement. A bare light bulb hung from the ceiling. Flipping a switch, I walked down the basic open wooden stairs.

The musty scent grew stronger. The walls were bare plywood, but the floor was finished with some sort of vinyl. An egress window set high in one wall let in a bit of daylight and a door stood ajar in a corner, leading to a small bathroom. That was good. I’d just have to take the door off and make sure there was nothing she could try to use as a weapon.

I walked into the center of the room and turned slowly, creating a mental inventory of what I’d need to make things ready for her. I’d bring down one of the mattresses from the bunk bed upstairs. Bedding too, although that could be something to offer her as a reward for good behavior.

Restraints, though. I’d have to install something. I went over to a wall and tapped in a line, listening for the sound of studs behind the plywood. I’d make it work. And there would come a time when I’d no longer need to chain her to a wall to keep her with me.

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