Chapter 5
Izzy’s arm was beginning to ache. She had been walking with her phone held above her head in the hopes of getting a signal. So far, she’d had no luck.
Aargh! Why was everything conspiring against her today? Had she done something to annoy the universe and this was her punishment?
To make matters worse, a light rain had begun to fall. It was that annoying sort of misty rain that clung to her hair and clothes, making her feel damp and irritable. When was she going to reach the road? She’d been walking for miles!
“And you can stop looking so pleased with yourself,” she said to Snaffles who was ambling along by her side with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth in a grin. “This is allyourfault. If you hadn’t chased that cat, none of this would have happened!”
Snaffles merely grinned at her. Izzy harrumphed and carried on walking. This couldn’t be right. She’d been making her way steadily along the track—which was far more overgrown than she remembered from this morning—and should have hit the road a long time ago. There were no turnings or junctions on the track so there was no way she could have taken a wrong turn and gotten lost. It just didn’t make any sense!
Her thoughts turned to Magnus and a horrible guilty feeling stole through her. Now that she’d had a little time to think, she realized she might have jumped to conclusions a little. If hehadbeen part of a plot to steal hercar, he would hardly have escorted her back to the scene of the crime, would he?
But she hadn’t thought of that at the time. She’d just panicked and said the first thing that came into her head, irrational though it had been. She’d sent him packing and now she was alone, damp, and thoroughly miserable.
She studied her surroundings, trying to spot any familiar landmarks or signs of civilization, but all she saw was more of the same—dense heather, stunted trees, and a dreary sky that seemed to press upon her like a heavy blanket.
She wished she had a map or anything that could help her locate some semblance of a route out of this wilderness. She’d boasted to Magnus that she knew this area and couldn’t get lost, but she’d left her map in the car and the GPS on her phone was no good if she couldn’t get a signal. Oh, wasn’t she just the intrepid explorer? Take away her modern conveniences and what did you get? A city girl out of her depth and on the verge of panic, that’s what!
Snaffles stopped suddenly, his body tensing, staring ahead.
“Snaffles? What is it, boy?” The dog didn’t move, didn’t wag his tail—only the slight widening of his nostrils betrayed that he was tracking a scent in the air.
Izzy went still, trying to listen for anything unusual, but all she could hear was the rhythm of her heartbeat pounding in her ears and the eerie silence of the surrounding moorland. It was probably just a rabbit, she told herself. But the tenseness of Snaffles’ posture suggested otherwise.
“What?” she asked the dog. “What is it?”
Then she heard it: the tramp of footsteps coming up the brow of a hill on her right.
People! At last!
Maybe they would have a phone signal. At the very least, they could tell her where she was and how to get to the road. She took a step in that direction but froze when Snaffles let out a long, low growl, deep in his throat.
She looked at him in surprise. “What’s wrong, boy?”
Snaffles’ chest rumbled with another growl. Izzy hesitated. It was unlike Snaffles to behave like this. Had he sensed something about the approaching people? What if it was the thieves who’d taken her car?
She looked around, spotted a copse of stunted alder nearby and, grabbing Snaffles’ collar, pulled him into it. She crouched behind the low branches as three people crested the hill. They were all male, in a range of ages, the youngest little more than a gangly youth, the oldest probably in his fifties. They each wore a long tartan wrap similar to what Magnus had been wearing, although these were different colors. Something about them made the back of Izzy’s neck tingle with unease although she couldn’t put a finger on why that was.
Then a female voice suddenly spoke. “Will ye three slow down?” A woman with long blonde hair tied into a plait appeared over the brow of the hill behind them. She glared down at the three men with her arms crossed under her ample bosom. “This isnae a race ye know? My feet are killing me!”
The older man laughed. “Yerfeet are hurting ye? Ye should try having my bunions, Elsie, lass. Then ye’d know what aching feet really were!”
Elsie groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes as she descended to join her companions. “Aye, I’m sure yer bunions are a real tragedy, Fergus,” she replied, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Not helped by that paunch ye force them to carry around!”
Fergus chuckled heartily, the sound echoing over the open moorland as he patted his ample belly.
Izzy relaxed. They were obviously just a group of hikers and despite Snaffles’ behavior, the fact that a woman was with the group put her at ease. Surely these people would help her? Surely one of them would have a phone she could borrow?
She was just about to stand up and announce herself when a big, calloused hand went around her mouth, yanking her back down into the undergrowth. She went rigid with fright.
