Beside the charging station was another promising-looking cabinet, but it was locked. I’d tried to pick it twice with no luck. Without my lock pick set, finding anything small enough had proven a challenge. He didn’t exactly keep hairpins handy, and despite thinking I had some in my purse, of course I did not.
I’d reached another dead end.
Huffing once and rocking my head against the edge of the tub, I scanned the shelves in the shed as I soaked, each shelf comically packed with junk and literal garbage.
Maybe I could find something out here to pick the lock while pretending to tidy up? Surely there’d be some sturdy wire, tiny saw blades, or anything else small enough to do the trick.
My finger idly traced across the surface of the water, parting the soapy mounds. Another problem was my phone’s battery, which was dying fast. Each time I turned it on, the battery dropped a few percentage points. The power bank was suspiciously void of charge cords, and there weren’t any in the drawers. Knowing my luck, Gray locked them away in the cabinet.
The only other option I could think of was to venture further into the wilderness, but I was worried for obvious reasons. I should have paid more attention while we were driving in. We were perfectly safe in the daylight, and we hadn’t encountered dangerous wildlife, but leave it to me to end up stumbling upon a pack of rabid wolves or those pesky little Larry brethren while I was out on my own.
I could bring my taser, at least. It was still charged.
There was a cliffside off in the distance that I’d spotted a few times between the trees, beyond the river, maybe a half mile. If I were Gray, that’s where I’d put a satellite dish, if there were one. If not, maybe I could at least get higher and find a signal above the treeline.
The problem was the timing of this brief excursion of mine. Gray was always painfully present, hovering just out of view. Night offered the only chance, as he slept long enough to be distracted. However, that was impossible and admittedly stupid, even for me. Plus, his cot was right by the door.
Perhaps I could slip out during the day?
If I started cleaning the shed, maybe I could find a moment to slink off. The more time I spent down here, the less frequently he’d check on me. I could cross the river, take a quick look, and be back before he even realized I was gone.Maybe there was even some climbing gear in his stash? It looked like he had an entire mountaineering store out here on these shelves.
I was an experienced climber; I had to be with all the heists Nash and I performed every year. We used to take lessons at a nearby gym in New York and often spent summers climbing on sibling trips into the mountains. I even helped his wife learn a thing or two about the sport last fall when she’d begged to learn; she picked it up quickly.
A loud clunk and a rustle startled me out of my planning.
I sat up so fast that water sloshed out of the tub. I glanced around the shed, trying to pinpoint where the noise had originated, but I saw nothing amiss. It was probably just the logs settling in the fire. They often did that in the cabin, and I’d grown used to the disturbance, but this sounded different. It could just be the fact that it was a different style of stove than the one up there.
After a few minutes of quiet, I scanned the room one last time and leaned back, letting the water envelop me like armor. I sank until only my eyes and nose peeked out. Even though all appeared well, my trust in the world was fried, and my gaze continued to drift to the shadows and dark corners.
There was another clunk and a new rustling.
I nearly choked on bathwater.
Coughing up soap, I sat up. In the shed’s dimness, two points of light—like cat eyes—blinked to life in the far corner. Okay, there was definitely something there.
My thoughts whirled with possibilities. It couldn’t be Mr. Beans or Villainy, could it? Gray warned me daily to keep them inside. He said they wouldn’t last a day out here with the wild animals and could only go out on a leash.
The glowing eyes blinked, then shifted closer. They blinked again.
I blinked back, holding my breath.
The eyes tilted and moved, this time emerging into the overhead light.
I exhaled, relieved when I realized it was Larry, the pine marten.
Gray mentioned he’d seen Larry around a lot in the last few days, especially in the shed. He seemed to think he was harmless, even friendly. I wiped a hand down my face, willing to trust Gray on this one. Running out of here naked was not a hill I wanted to die on.
“Hey there, Larry,” I said, a clear shake in my voice.
He rose onto his hind feet; the firelight sparkling over his clean, wiry coat. His fingers drummed together before him, so human-like, I wanted to croon. He was a reddish-brown color on his head and down his back, with a cream-colored belly.
I’d known a few pet ferrets in New York; lots of people kept them, and that’s what he looked like more than anything. They were good apartment pets. But I had to admit, the pine marten was cuter. Its face was more like that of a cat, and its coat was richer. He had a long neck and a tail like a squirrel's.
Lowering himself onto all fours, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, only to return a moment later as though to check back in.
“I’m still here, Larry,” I called out.
His head tilted before he approached in fits and starts.
