Proof. Justine Davis

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Proof - Justine  Davis


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slept, she was sure, but the sky was changing from black to inky blue. As the first glow of actual light broke in the distance, she realized she’d have to risk the gun and go down before it became too light to move surreptitiously, if she wanted to catch him. Moving quickly, running on sheer willpower, she remounted the ever-patient Charm and tried to keep the stable in sight as she headed down the trail slowly enough to stay quiet.

      As it turned out, she didn’t need to be quiet. She heard the throaty roar of a motorcycle break the stillness. Charm’s ears snapped forward at the unaccustomed sound.

      Not a machine to sneak around with, Alex thought as the sound echoed around her, but ideal for coming and going cross-country rather than by the road, which probably made it a good choice, she admitted reluctantly.

      Moments later as the sound began to fade to the north, she realized he’d done exactly that.

      “Okay,” she muttered, “so you’re a smart boy.”

      She legged Charm into a gallop and sent her cutting across the grounds back to the stable. She entered cautiously, but the man was gone. Quickly she took care of the willing gray, crooning to her as she did a quick grooming and checked her hooves for stones. Satisfied, she double-checked the feeding instructions posted on the stall and gave the horse a small scoop of the appropriate grain mixture, not enough to interfere with her routine but enough to reward her for the extra effort of the night.

      Then she set about searching the stable, both to make sure he’d left nothing behind and that he had done no damage. The horses began to nicker greetings, no doubt thinking she was there for morning feeding. She checked the stalls first, to make sure each animal was safe and unharmed. Then she went about the rest methodically, starting at one end of the building, intending to work to the other, from top to bottom. Then she stopped. Turned to look from the doorway across the stable.

      He was good, she thought. She’d seen that. Likely a pro. So where would he have gone to wait? Where would she have gone? She scanned the shadowy interior, gauging. After a moment she headed for the third stall on the right.

      It was empty. There was no feed and care regimen posted, so she assumed it had been vacant for a while, the straw inside waiting for a new occupant.

      He’d been very careful. But she knew. Not just because the empty stall was the most logical, but because there was the faintest of flat spots in the straw near the outer door. When she got there she covered her hand with her shirt and unlatched the top half of the Dutch door, knowing she’d come back to check it for prints, though she doubted there’d be any. Then she knew she was right, because without opening it any farther, she could see straight up the trail she had taken into the foothills.

      He’d watched from here. Patiently. Until the growing light had chased him away.

      What he would have done if she’d come back, she had no idea. Would he have attacked? Tried to kill her? He’d had a chance at that, so she didn’t think murder had been his intention. At least, not yet. But what could he have hoped to accomplish simply by watching?

      Contact? Had that been the goal? And if so, why? And why her?

      She had no idea and at this point was simply glad he hadn’t hurt the horses in any way. She hastened out of the stall, secured the doors once more, and continued her search. When she was satisfied that he’d left nothing behind—at least, nothing that she would be able to find without some equipment she didn’t have—she headed at a jog toward staff housing and the principal’s bungalow.

      This was not going to please Christine at all. Athena was her baby, she had dedicated herself to the school and its students completely, and she would take any threat to it very, very seriously.

      “I’m taking it pretty damned seriously myself,” Alex muttered aloud. “In fact, I’d have to say I’m downright ticked off.”

      Well, whoever he was, he probably hadn’t gotten what he wanted. And if he came back, he would soon learn it wasn’t smart to tick off a Cassandra.

      Chapter 4

      “You’re certain you’re all right?”

      “Of course,” Alex told her former principal. “He never got anywhere near me. Unfortunately, I didn’t get near him, either.”

      “Mmm,” Christine murmured. “And if he’d gone after someone or something else?”

      “I would have stopped him.” She frowned. “I should have just grabbed him while I had the chance. I would have found out what he was after.”

      “You said he was armed. You weren’t.”

      “Yes.” She turned to look at Christine head-on. “So?”

      Christine chuckled. “I wasn’t impugning your competency, Alex. Merely pointing out that in those circumstances, with an opponent you haven’t been able to assess, it’s wisest to leave hand-to-hand combat as a last resort.”

      “Well,” Alex groused, “at least we’d know who he was, or who sent him.”

      “We will,” Christine said. “Eventually.”

      “I want to know now.”

      “Remember that old Dutch proverb, Alexandra.”

      “Yeah, yeah, I know. A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains. But somebody else said you had to have patience to learn patience.”

      Christine chuckled. “It was always your biggest challenge, wasn’t it?”

      “Isn’t it,” Alex corrected her wryly, acknowledging the lifelong battle it would probably be for her.

      “That you know it is still your challenge indicates you’re winning the fight,” Christine said, ever the wise mentor. “Of course, wandering around Athena at night isn’t exactly new to you, now is it? After all, you’re one of the few to actually see the Dark Angel.”

      Alex’s eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. Christine smiled at her.

      “Did you really think I didn’t know what you girls called him?”

      “I…we…”

      Alex fumbled to a halt, a little amazed at how embarrassing it was now, looking back over the years at that bit of adolescent romanticizing.

      “You were teenage girls,” Christine said soothingly. “It’s in the nature of the creature to romanticize something like that.”

      Alex’s mouth quirked. “I suppose. And it did seem wildly romantic to us back then, this tall, dark and handsome guy so desperate to find out what happened to his sister that he broke in here.”

      “He was that. For him to come back after the first time we caught him here, when he was just a boy, he had to be desperate.”

      “It was crazy that he thought Athena had something to do with her death. I don’t get that, his sister wasn’t even a student here. But it was still romantic. That we never knew his name, or who he really was, just made it more so.” Alex’s smile faded. “I hadn’t thought about him in years.”

      “Considering the celebrity seeing him made you, I’m surprised you could ever forget.”

      Alex’s smile returned then, but it was touched with a lingering sadness. “He did increase my cachet considerably. I wonder what ever happened to him?”

      Christine shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just glad we made the right decision in not prosecuting him for burglary. He never came back.”

      “It was just the desperation,” Alex said with a shrug. “People do crazy things when someone they love…”

      Her voice trailed off as she realized they were now in the same boat that young man had been in, over fifteen years ago. Were they crazy for believing there was more to Rainy’s death than what the officials believed? She didn’t think so. So, were they any different


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