Target on the Mountain by Elizabeth Goddard (best thriller books to read .TXT) 📗

her hands, unwilling to cry. Ducking behind a large hedge, she held her breath. Her heart thumped so hard she was sure he could hear her.

His car door opened. He stepped to the drive. Through the branches of the shrubbery, she could see his pant legs and mud-caked boots.

A beam of light flickered from a flashlight. He turned it first to the porch and then toward the barn and outbuildings. Angling her gaze, she saw his black jacket and trousers. The bandana still covered his face. He hesitated for a long moment and then climbed into his car, backed onto the road and turned toward town. Driving slowly, he aimed the flashlight along the side of the road.

As he neared the path to the pond, she held her breath, fearing he would see tread marks in the mud. “Please,” she whispered. “Keep driving.”

The car eased to a stop. Light flickered over the path. Her heart nearly crashed through her chest. After what seemed like an eternity, he drove on.

Letting out the breath she was holding, she tapped 911 into her phone. Nothing. She checked her screen. No bars. Her stomach churned. She raced to her car and wanted to scream when she tried her cell again with the same result.

She needed to alert the sheriff’s office. If her phone wouldn’t work, she’d go there in person. Hunkered down in her car, she waited thirty minutes, giving the man in black time to arrive at his destination and be off the road. She turned the key in the ignition, relieved when the engine hummed to life, and stepped on the gas. A whirring sound filled the air as the tires spun in the soft mud.

With an audible moan, she got out, rounded to the rear of the car, placed her hands on the trunk and pushed with all her might. The car wouldn’t budge, and all she succeeded in doing was sinking deeper into the mud. Her only option was to wait until morning.

She shivered, not only from the cold, but also from being attacked and having her car stuck. Her side ached, and her head felt like it would explode from stress. So much for a happy homecoming.

Something rustled in a nearby stand of trees.

After climbing quickly into her car, she hit the door lock button, scooted lower in the seat and narrowed her gaze, trying to discern what was roaming in the darkness. A fox or coyote perhaps? Brown bears were not uncommon in the mountains.

She blinked to bring the form into focus, but it disappeared from sight. Or had she imagined the movement altogether? One thing was certain—she would stay locked in the car until the first light of dawn.

Yanking a heavy lap blanket from the rear seat, she wrapped it around her shoulders and rested her head back. As the minutes passed, her eyes grew heavy. She snuggled into the blanket and closed her eyes.

The man with the red bandana who wanted to do her harm was the last thing she thought of before falling asleep, but it was William’s face that filled her dream. She was at the lake so long ago. The moonlight broke through the trees and illuminated his searching eyes as he lowered his lips to hers.

Tap, tap, tap. The sound startled her and pulled her from her slumber. She opened her eyes to a glare of sunlight and blinked a blurred form into view.

A man stared down at her through the windshield. “Julianne?”

She rubbed her eyes and pulled herself upright, recognizing the angled face, full mouth and crystal-blue eyes.

William Lavy.

He was wearing an Amish jacket and a wide-brimmed felt hat.

“Is that you, Julie?”

She hadn’t seen Will in five years, and until last night, she hadn’t expected to see him again. She threw aside the blanket, adjusted her sweater and raked her hand through her hair, embarrassed he had found her asleep.

His brow was raised, and his mouth set in a frown as he continued to stare at her.

Pulling in a fragile breath, she offered him a weak smile.

“What happened? Are you okay?” His raised voice was filled with concern.

For half a heartbeat, she thought she was dreaming.

“Answer me, Jules. Are you okay?”

She tapped the button to lower the automatic window before realizing the car’s engine was off. She grabbed the handle and pushed open the door.

The cold morning air swirled around her. “I must have—” Her sleep-laced tone was little more than a whisper, even to her own ears. She cleared her throat. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“Looks like both you and your car got stuck in the mud.” He leaned closer. “Are you okay?”

“I... I’m fine. A bit bruised, but—” Tears burned her eyes. She blinked them back.

“You’re hurt.” His gaze softened. “What happened?”

“I came home to sell my father’s property.” She glanced at the letter lying open on the console. “They want to take my farm. I left late in the day and then was delayed by a rockslide.”

The words were tumbling out too fast, but she couldn’t help herself. If she stopped talking, she might cry, and she was struggling to keep the tears at bay.

“When I got to my house,” she continued without taking a breath, “a man in black wearing a red bandana was hiding in the bushes. He attacked me, then followed me in his car. I turned toward the pond, thinking you or your dad could help me.”

Regret flashed in his eyes. “I was at a friend’s wedding and spent the night. I saw your Honda when I returned this morning.”

“Why would someone attack me?”

“Vandalism has become a problem.” He gazed around, as if checking that the man in black wasn’t hiding nearby. “That’s why the authorities are concerned about unoccupied property, but vandals don’t usually attack people.”

She blinked back another rush of tears.

“Let’s get your car out of the mud,” he said. “Then we can drive to town and alert the sheriff. We can also stop at the medical clinic and have the doc