She slowed the car and pulled onto an unmarked road, rocking and rolling over the rugged dirt terrain for about fifty yards until the narrow road dead-ended at the edge of a clearing. Jay’s truck was nowhere in sight. She glanced at her watch. It was only eleven forty-five.She rolled down the windows, comforted by the familiar sounds of Carolina chickadees flitting among the trees and a pileated woodpecker artfully drilling the side of the dead tree that marked the top of the slope.Could the anonymous caller know she was here? Could he be watching? No one had followed her from Angel View. She rubbed her arms, which were suddenly like gooseflesh. She checked her phone to be sure Jay hadn’t sent another text. He hadn’t.A loud rustling noise caused her to freeze, her heart racing faster than the pair of rabbits that shot out of the brush and hopped down the grassy slope.Come on, Jay. I feel exposed out here.In the quiet that followed, she tried to relax. There was no place on Sure Foot Mountain where she felt safer than here at their secret place.
