Joshua’s gaze again shifted briefly to Saria and back to Drake. She felt her stomach muscles tighten into knots.
“In her room, Drake.”
Drake took the lead, signaling Saria to stay behind him. Joshua fell in behind her. She became aware of the silence. Neither man made a sound. She could hear her own breathing, but not their footsteps. The rain on the roof lent an eerie feel to walking down the darkened hallway to her bedroom.
Drake pushed open the door and stood just inside, surveying the damage. Saria peeked under his arm and her breath caught in her throat. She slipped her hand into Drake’s, her heart pounding. Someone—something—had ripped every single item of her clothing into tatters. The bedding and mattress were in shreds. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest, the blood roaring in her ears.
“He hates me. I’ve never had anyone hate me,” she whispered.Drake slipped his arm around her and pulled her into the heat of his body. She hadn’t realized until that moment that she was shivering. “He’s demented, Saria.”
“He’s fixated on her,” Joshua said.
Saria swallowed the protest. It would have been silly to object anyway. The evidence was right in front of her. Without question, whoever was killing and dumping bodies was the same person who had shredded everything in the room belonging to her.
“It’s creepy to think someone is out there watchin’ me. He must know what room I’m in.”
“He’s leopard,” Drake said. “He can find you by scent.”
She pressed her fingers against her trembling mouth, willing herself not to shake in front of Drake or Joshua.
“Did you see him?” Drake asked Joshua.
“I saw where he went into the swamp, but I couldn’t follow him. He left tracks for about a mile and then he was gone. No scent trail at all. None, Drake. And there’s nothing in the room. His scent should be everywhere. The doors were closed and he was in there a few minutes, enough that the room should reek of him. He’s like a damned ghost.”
“He was too close to her, Joshua,” Drake said.
She caught the look that passed between the two men. Drake was angry. Outwardly he appeared calm, but Joshua flushed and nodded his head as if guilty of something.
“It isn’t his job to guard me, Drake,” she said. “I don’ even like the idea of it. This is my home and I’m capable of protectin’ myself, even against this killer.” She had to fight to keep her voice from swinging out of control. “I may be afraid, but I can handle this.”
“No one is saying you can’t,” Drake answered. “He got too close. He came into a building where we were sleeping and we didn’t hear him.”
Saria felt herself turn white. If the killer had gotten into the inn with all of them sleeping, everyone had been vulnerable. “Pauline,” she whispered aloud. She jerked her hand out of Drake’s and turned and ran, fear sweeping through her body, threatening to choke her. As her fear rose, so did her leopard, she could feel the power and energy of the cat as it fed her strength.
Her birth mother had slipped away long before Saria had a chance to know her and her father had slowly but surely followed. He’d taught her the ways of the swamp and how to take care of herself, but it had been Pauline she’d run to all of her life. Pauline had soothed her when she cried, explained life’s mysteries, had bandaged every scrape and taught her how to cook and sew and cope with life. Pauline had been her surrogate mother and she loved her fiercely and protectively.
Behind her, she was vaguely aware of Drake racing after her down the long hall, calling her name, telling her to stop, to wait, but she couldn’t. Her heart pounded and there was a strange roaring in her head. Her lungs burned as she grasped the railing and leapt over it to the first floor below. She landed on her feet in a crouch and took off running again through the entryway to the living room and down the hall toward the back of the house where Pauline’s small apartment, basically the entire southern wing of the house, was located.
Drake was on her before she reached the door, his arms catching her around the waist, pinning her arms so she had no chance to fight. “Be still,” he hissed in her ear. “Let me see first.”
She shook her head mutely. Pauline was her mother whether there was a blood relationship or not. She’d always known it, but not like this—this terrible fear of losing her forever. Drake signaled Joshua and he stepped to one side of the door. Jerico had joined them and apparently Evan was circling around outside. It was all too late. She should have thought to protect Pauline above all else.
Drake stood to the right of the door and knocked. “Miss Pauline? Amos? Are you all right in there?”
For a heart-stopping moment his call was met with silence. Saria jammed her fist in her mouth. Her legs suddenly felt like rubber. Something stirred behind the closed door. There was a soft rustle, footsteps and Pauline opened her door, blinking sleepily at them. No one had thought to turn on a light, but Saria caught the flare of cat in her eyes. She might not have a leopard, but she had leopard blood flowing in her veins and had excellent night vision.
Saria flung herself into Pauline’s arms and to her horror, began to weep almost hysterically. The relief at seeing her alive was so overwhelming after such fear of what she might find, that she couldn’t stop herself, not even knowing she was making a complete fool of herself in front of Drake’s men.
She nearly bowled Pauline over, but the woman closed her arms around her firmly and held her close, murmuring soothingly as she looked over Saria’s shoulder to Drake for an explanation.
Jerico and Joshua immediately left, giving Saria some privacy. She noticed, but was too distraught to acknowledge their gentlemanly behavior.
“Saria, honey, tell me what’s wrong,” Pauline coaxed.
“I’m sorry, I can’t stop,” Saria admitted. “Hit me or something.”
“What did you do?” Amos demanded, glaring at Drake.
“Not him,” Saria hastened to explain, hiccupping. “The killer.”