some of her bottled anger. Instead, he turned and started back towards where they’d left the body, leaving her standing alone with clenched fists, frustrated and confused.
It didn’t take long to dig the grave. Feeling queasy, Winter helped as much as she could, using her hands to scoop away dirt while Sam dug with the shovel. They worked silently, both seemingly enjoying the distraction the digging provided. Once they’d reached the hard clay shelf a few feet below the surface Sam told her she could rest.
She sat with her back to him, listening to the scraping of the shovel, and tried to come to terms with everything that had happened. Her body was weary but her mind still raced a million miles an hour, thinking about Blake and trying not to think about Benedict and Sidaris.
‘Finished.’
She stood up and saw Sam smoothing the dirt over the grave with the back of his shovel.
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
‘What do you want me to say? You dig a beautiful grave, Sam.’ There was still a trace of sarcasm in her voice, but it was less harsh. She was too exhausted to hold onto her anger.
‘I suppose we need to talk about what happens now,’ he said, ignoring her tone. ‘About Benedict. You saw the way he looked.’
Looked at me , Winter corrected Sam in her mind. ‘Yeah, he didn’t look happy.’
‘He’ll come for us. I doubt he’s the “forgive and forget” type.’
Winter’s heart lurched in her chest. ‘But you said he’d be too weak to try again tonight.’
Sam shrugged, swinging the shovel up onto his shoulder. ‘I said that, but I don’t know for sure. We need to form some kind of plan.’
Winter sighed miserably – when would this ordeal end? ‘Okay, but not here.’ She needed to get away from this spot. Away from the creaking trees and the darkness.
‘Where then?’ Sam frowned. ‘I’m a wanted man, remember. It’s not like I can take you out for milkshakes and burgers.’
Winter bit back the cutting remark that came to her lips and instead considered the options. There weren’t many to choose from. ‘We can go to my house. My sister’s out with her boyfriend tonight and won’t be back for a couple of hours.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yeah.’
Sam considered this for a moment, and then nodded. ‘Your house it is.’
They started off for Sam’s car, leaving the reserve and Sidaris’s grave behind them.
Chapter 12
There were no lights on as Sam pulled up in front of Winter’s house. The garage door was wide open, Lucy’s car gone. Sam parked on the opposite side of the street and sent Winter on ahead to make sure they would be alone. She didn’t bother arguing with him, figuring that after three months of living on the run, he was entitled to be a little paranoid.
She quickly crossed the driveway, feeling a little like a fugitive rushing across a prison courtyard trying to avoid the guards’ spotlight, and took the balcony steps to the front door. Using her key she stepped inside and called out, ‘Hello? Lucy?’
Predictably there was no reply. Nefertem ambled out of the shadows and meowed a ‘hello’ at her. Winter walked to the balcony railing and gave Sam the thumbs-up signal. She watched him step out of the car, retrieve a battered exercise bag, sling the crossbow over his shoulder and jog towards her.
‘Nobody’s home?’ he asked her when he reached the top of the stairs.
‘Just me and my bodyguard,’ Winter said, picking up Nefertem. The cat stiffened in her arms as Sam approached, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat.
‘He doesn’t like you.’
Sam frowned at the cat as he passed. ‘I don’t like him either.’
Winter closed the door and followed him into the kitchen. Sam placed the duffle bag on the table, unzipped it, and withdrew two small clay oil burners. One was dark brown, the other a mottled blue colour. Both were bell shaped.
‘What are you going to do with those?’ Winter asked as Sam set about lighting the tea
It didn’t take long to dig the grave. Feeling queasy, Winter helped as much as she could, using her hands to scoop away dirt while Sam dug with the shovel. They worked silently, both seemingly enjoying the distraction the digging provided. Once they’d reached the hard clay shelf a few feet below the surface Sam told her she could rest.
She sat with her back to him, listening to the scraping of the shovel, and tried to come to terms with everything that had happened. Her body was weary but her mind still raced a million miles an hour, thinking about Blake and trying not to think about Benedict and Sidaris.
‘Finished.’
She stood up and saw Sam smoothing the dirt over the grave with the back of his shovel.
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
‘What do you want me to say? You dig a beautiful grave, Sam.’ There was still a trace of sarcasm in her voice, but it was less harsh. She was too exhausted to hold onto her anger.
‘I suppose we need to talk about what happens now,’ he said, ignoring her tone. ‘About Benedict. You saw the way he looked.’
Looked at me , Winter corrected Sam in her mind. ‘Yeah, he didn’t look happy.’
‘He’ll come for us. I doubt he’s the “forgive and forget” type.’
Winter’s heart lurched in her chest. ‘But you said he’d be too weak to try again tonight.’
Sam shrugged, swinging the shovel up onto his shoulder. ‘I said that, but I don’t know for sure. We need to form some kind of plan.’
Winter sighed miserably – when would this ordeal end? ‘Okay, but not here.’ She needed to get away from this spot. Away from the creaking trees and the darkness.
‘Where then?’ Sam frowned. ‘I’m a wanted man, remember. It’s not like I can take you out for milkshakes and burgers.’
Winter bit back the cutting remark that came to her lips and instead considered the options. There weren’t many to choose from. ‘We can go to my house. My sister’s out with her boyfriend tonight and won’t be back for a couple of hours.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yeah.’
Sam considered this for a moment, and then nodded. ‘Your house it is.’
They started off for Sam’s car, leaving the reserve and Sidaris’s grave behind them.
Chapter 12
There were no lights on as Sam pulled up in front of Winter’s house. The garage door was wide open, Lucy’s car gone. Sam parked on the opposite side of the street and sent Winter on ahead to make sure they would be alone. She didn’t bother arguing with him, figuring that after three months of living on the run, he was entitled to be a little paranoid.
She quickly crossed the driveway, feeling a little like a fugitive rushing across a prison courtyard trying to avoid the guards’ spotlight, and took the balcony steps to the front door. Using her key she stepped inside and called out, ‘Hello? Lucy?’
Predictably there was no reply. Nefertem ambled out of the shadows and meowed a ‘hello’ at her. Winter walked to the balcony railing and gave Sam the thumbs-up signal. She watched him step out of the car, retrieve a battered exercise bag, sling the crossbow over his shoulder and jog towards her.
‘Nobody’s home?’ he asked her when he reached the top of the stairs.
‘Just me and my bodyguard,’ Winter said, picking up Nefertem. The cat stiffened in her arms as Sam approached, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat.
‘He doesn’t like you.’
Sam frowned at the cat as he passed. ‘I don’t like him either.’
Winter closed the door and followed him into the kitchen. Sam placed the duffle bag on the table, unzipped it, and withdrew two small clay oil burners. One was dark brown, the other a mottled blue colour. Both were bell shaped.
‘What are you going to do with those?’ Winter asked as Sam set about lighting the tea
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