Eyes of the Predator (28 page)

Clay released the trigger, and
the circular saw whined down to silence once more. He carried the freshly cut
lumber to where Cy was framing up the header on a door. In the dense, dead
silence, he heard the beep from his cell phone.

Dropping the lumber next to Cy,
he reached for the phone on his belt. He had a missed call, two actually, from
the same number. It was not a number Clay knew. There was also a voice mail
message.

Clay dialed in to retrieve the
message. His heart pounded when he heard the timid voice.

“This is Lyn…I’ll be at the truck
stop,” the voice said.

Cy looked up and saw the look on
his brother’s face.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Lyn. She left a message, said
she would be waiting at the truck stop.”

“Well that’s great,” Cy said
smiling at his younger brother.

“Yeah,” Clay replied, “but she
sounded scared. Like something happened.”

“Well, we can go pick her up when
we get off. She said she’d be waiting, right? We can run her back down to home,
drop her off with Mama and head back up here,” Cy said and then added, “Won’t
get much sleep tonight you know. You can be a pain in the ass for a little
brother.”

Clay nodded back “Yeah, that
sounds like a plan. She just didn’t sound right though.”

“Well, call her back. She
probably called from the pay phone. She might still be around it waiting.”

“Yea, good idea, but the number
doesn’t look like a Georgia number.”

Clay used his thumb to redial the
number Lyn had called from.

Even through the rumble of the
big rig’s tires, big Leon felt the vibration of the phone in his shirt pocket.
He plunged two large fingers, all that would fit, into the pocket and retrieved
the phone.

Glancing away from the road, Leon
studied the number on the screen. Not his wife or anyone else he knew. Probably
someone with business, and they called him by mistake. They should have called
Bob, who was a half mile ahead in his rig. As always, Leon would just as soon
let Bob do the talking and arranging. He put it back in his pocket. Whoever it
was would get his voice mail and would call Bob’s number.

“This is Leon. Leave a message.”

The deep, gruff voice on the
phone startled Clay, who was expecting Lyn’s soft, timid voice. Who the hell
was Leon, he thought. Damn. This wasn’t good.

Clay dialed the number again.

Leon was annoyed as the vibration
started in his pocket again. Dammit, he was beginning to get pissed off. He
didn’t like talking much, and didn’t like talking on the phone even more. Still
it might be something about one of his kids or his wife from a number he didn’t
know.

“Leon!”

Clay recognized the voice from
the voicemail announcement. The voice sounded annoyed. Too bad.

“Hi Leon, this is Clay Purcell.
I’m looking for a girl, Lyn. She called me from your number.”

Oh, Leon thought. Forgot about
that. Clay couldn’t see it, but the big man’s face softened.

“Yeah. She did. Are you the
friend she called?”

Clay detected the softer tone in
Leon’s voice.

“Yes, I am. I mean I guess I am.
Is she with you?”

“No, she was at the truck stop
last I saw her. Waiting for you. Are you the friend that was gonna pick her
up?”

Clay answered with more
confidence now. “Yes. Yes I am. I told her to call, and I would come get her.”

“Well, that’s good son,” Leon’s
deep voice resonated in Clay’s phone. “She needs someone to get her away from
there.”

“Why?” Clay felt the anxiety rise
in his chest. “Is something wrong?”

Big Leon remembered the little
girl standing beside the pay phones at the truck stop when they left. She may
have been eighteen and full grown in the eyes of the law, but that little girl
didn’t need to be alone there. Leon felt an ache inside. They should have done
more. Something. But there wasn’t anything they could do. She had called her
friend, and they had to drop a load in Birmingham. Leon could never have put
words to all of this. He said what he could.

“She had some trouble with a
trucker. Another fella helped her out, and then we took her in to the truck
stop. Bob wanted…”

“We? Bob? Who’s Bob” Clay asked,
his anxiety growing.

“Bob? Bob’s my partner,” Leon
paused to get the story back on track. “Bob’s my partner. We saw the trouble
with the trucker, but this other fella stepped in first, then he left, so we
took the little girl back in the truck stop. Bob called the police, but they
said she was grown so she could do what she wanted. I let her use my phone to
call a friend to come get her. She must have called you,” Leon concluded. He
was relieved to get it all out. He added, “Then you called me.”

Clay was overwhelmed. There were
too many questions.

“So you left her?” Clay asked.

Big Leon didn’t sound or feel so
intimidating now. His voice sounded contrite. “Yeah, we did. Sorry. I hope
that’s all right. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to her. She seems like a
nice girl. Someone should go get her and take her home. Is that you?”

“Yes,” Clay said firmly. “Yes it
is. Is she okay?”

“Last we saw she was standing by
the pay phones outside the store waiting. For you, I reckon.” Leon’s conscience
and concern made him add, “There wasn’t anything else we could do. Least it
seemed that way.”

 Clay took a breath. It was
lucky for Lyn that Leon and his partner Bob had come along. Not their fault.
They hadn’t done anything different than he and Cy had done, leaving her at the
truck stop. His conscience twinged painfully.

“Well, Leon thanks for helping
her out. I’ll get her at the truck stop. Thanks.”

All Leon could say was, “Okay
then. Thanks.” The conversation ended. There wasn’t anything else to say.

Clay looked at Cy and said, “I
gotta go.”

Cy looked up, nail gun in his
hand, surprised. “What, now?”

“I gotta go,” was all Clay said.

Cy wasn’t happy. “Why do you have
to go now? We got to get these walls framed. We have responsibilities, Clay.”

Clay dialed his voice mail back
and handed the phone to Cy. He listened intently. The look of annoyance on his
face became one of resignation.

“Okay, okay. Take the truck,” Cy
said.

“Thanks.” Clay hesitated, “You
know I’ll have to…”

Cy cut him off, “I know. You’re
gonna take her to mama. No reason to come back here for me. I’ll catch a ride
to the motel with one of the guys. Grab dinner and a couple of beers and go to
bed.” Resignation plastered across his face. Cy reached in the pocket of his
blue jeans, and tossed the truck keys to Clay. “Go on. Do what you gotta do.”

Catching them in midair, Clay
turned and walked away.

Opening the door, he called out to
his brother, “I’ll call you later.”

Cy didn’t hear. The circular saw
was screeching through another piece of pine.

 “Sure you’re not hungry?”
Lylee asked between large bites of a cheeseburger.

“No, I’m fine,” Lyn said, making
wet circles on the counter with the ice filled glass of Coke. She looked up and
smiled appreciatively. “Thanks for the drink.” The Coke was the least of things
he had done for her. “And for, what happened earlier,” she added.

Lylee reached for some fries and
shoved them in his mouth, then took a sip of his own Coke. His attitude was
that of a hungry man focused on his food. Mouth full, he looked sideways at
Lyn, smiled, and then swallowed. Shaking his head modestly he said, “No need to
thank me. I told you why. Just sorry I got so carried away. I know that must
have scared you some.” He lifted the cheeseburger to his mouth and then stopped
and added, “You really do remind me of my little sister.”

Lylee’s words received the
desired effect. Lyn smiled broadly at him. Good, he thought. Soon, very soon.

He turned back to his food. He
really was hungry. And with what was to come, no telling when he would get a
chance to eat next. Another big bite of the cheeseburger disappeared in his
open mouth.

Lyn leaned forward over her
drink, elbows on the counter. There was an empty seat still between them. After
a moment, she looked at Lylee and said, “You know I do have a brother.”

Lylee showed mild interest and
said, “Really?” Inwardly, he was on fire. He tingled with anticipation. Outwardly,
he was the stalking cat, moving ever so closer to the catch. A brother. He
sensed, he knew, that he could use this. He awaited the opportunity.

“Yeah,” Lyn said. “My brother
Sam. My big brother.”

“That’s great,” Lylee said,
cleaning up some ketchup with a french fry. “Well, what does he think about you
being here. I mean he must not like it, huh?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“No? How come?,” Lylee asked,
playing the interested friend, the protector.

“Sam was in Afghanistan, in the
Army. He was killed. He’s buried back at the church at home.”

“So, why are you here? Because
your brother was killed?” Lylee asked with the greatest sympathy and interest,
and then added politely, “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry into your business.” In
reality, he couldn’t have cared less
why
she was there. He was only
interested that she
was
there. Her story provided information that would
bring her closer; closer to the ripping claws and tearing fangs. That was his
interest, his only interest. Listening intently, he sought that one piece of
information, the key that would open the door to what was to come next.

“I had some trouble at home.” Lyn
looked down again. She really didn’t want to go into all that had happened last
night.

And again, Lylee couldn’t have
cared less about her trouble at home, but he saw her withdraw on this topic. He
had to keep her talking, bringing her closer.

He smiled broadly at Lyn, “Well
let’s not talk about the trouble. My name’s Bruce, Bruce Starns.” Lylee made
the name up on the spot. Initials BS, he thought seemed perfect for the
occasion. He found the irony humorous. It was even more humorous that she was
unaware of the bullshit he threw her way with every bit of information he
provided and every answer to her questions. He stuck his hand out to shake her
hand in the way new acquaintances do.

Lyn shook the ends of his fingers
the way a young girl who never shook hands would and said, “I’m Lyn.”

 “So how come you are here
in the big city in this delightful place?” he said letting go of her hand and
waving his arm around at the truck stop, laughing. As he did so, he saw it
happen. He saw the barrier come down. She got too close, and the best part was
she didn’t even know it, and when she did realize it, it would be too late.

Why not just tell him, she thought.
“Me and Sam always had a dream of going to Canada.” She shrugged and then
added, “So I thought I would go to Canada.” She paused self-consciously and
then continued, “I know it sounds crazy.”

The broad, charming smile was
back. “Are you kidding? Canada’s great. Beautiful place. I think that’s a
perfect place to dream of going.”

“Really?” Lyn asked. “You been
there?”

“Sure. I was there just last
year. I took a little runaround there on vacation.” Lylee laughed inwardly
again at the use of his special word for these trips. If she only knew; she
would know, soon enough.

“Really?” Lyn knew she was
repeating herself. “I mean what’s it like? In my dreams, our dreams, me and Sam
thought it would be…beautiful.”

“It is beautiful. Big and full of
trees and mountains. And lakes, lot’s of lakes.” Lylee’s only real knowledge of
Canada was what you might gather watching television or looking at travel
magazines, but Lyn didn’t know that. Lylee knew that she didn’t know, and her
innocence only increased his desire and whetted his appetite for what would
come. Soon now, very soon.

Lylee watched Lyn look at the
wall behind the counter as if she were staring at some far away lake. She was
imagining what Canada was like. Trees and mountains and fresh air. Oh yes, he
thought, and by the way, don’t forget the grizzly bears and the mountain lions.
Claws that would tear into her soft flesh. Teeth that would sink into her
throat as she sat happily beside some mountain lake. The inward laughing was
insuppressible, and it became a smile on his face.

Seeing the smile, Lyn was
embarrassed. She didn’t understand the smile. She had no clue that the smile
was her cue to run for her life.

“Sorry,” she said. “I know I
sound silly.”

“Nope. Not at all,” Lylee said
bringing the smile under control, pushing the laughter deep inside where she
wouldn’t see it and maybe realize that all was not right. “So, you’re headed to
Canada then. That’s why you were with that truck driver, huh? Ride to Canada?”

Lyn’s face changed slightly. The
memory of what had happened, or almost happened if it hadn’t been for this man,
was a sharp pain.

Lylee saw the change. It was what
he had intended. Remind her of what he had done to help her, to protect her.

“Yeah. He was gonna give me a
ride north. Not all the way, but closer. I guess I was pretty stupid.”

“It’s never stupid to follow your
dreams,” Lylee said smiling again, this time at the corniness of what he had
just said. This was too good. Follow your dreams. Reach for the stars. Climb
every mountain. And so on and so on. Her innocence was delicious, irresistible.
He savored it. Soon he would feed on it.

“So are you still going to
Canada?” he asked.

Lyn sighed and shook her head. “I
don’t know. I called a friend. He might come pick me up. I don’t know if he got
the message or if he’s coming.”

Lylee sensed it was time.