Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
The fence to the reindeer paddock has collapsed in several places, clearly pushed over, and while some of the deer are still inside, chomping on a hay pile it’s not nearly all of them. Dodge turns around, scanning the dirt road for any sign of the missing ones, then turns and looks along the treeline.
“Damn it,” he curses.
“I’ll help,” I tell him. “They can’t have gotten far. Can they?”
“Let’s hope not. I’ll fix the fence, then we’ll go look.”
Half an hour later, the fence is back up and most of the deer have been caught and brought back. They were wandering across the land and through the edge of the woods, and didn’t complain too much when we led them back to the paddock, especially when they got treats for good behavior.
“How many more?” I ask.
“Two.”
“Do you think they got out on the road?”
“There’s a wire fence around most of the property,” Dodge says, shaking his head. “They generally don’t try to jump over it. But the dirt road past your grandparents’ place is another matter. If whoever let them out left the gate open they could be out on the road. You can go back inside if you’re cold, I’ve got to go look for them.”
I wrap my hands around his massive arm, pulling myself in close. “Where you go, I go.”
“You sure? This isn’t your problem.”
“It’s our problem,” I tell him, and he nods.
“You’re something special, you know that?”
“I know,” I say with a grin.
We walk together out onto the dirt road, and as Dodge suspected the gate is standing wide enough for a couple of reindeer to walk side by side through it. My heart leaps into my throat, thinking of them getting out onto the actual road. It’s not busy this time of year, but a lot of the locals know that and travel along it way too fast. If a deer is in the road, there’s a good chance it’s going to get hit.
“Shit,” Dodge mutters, but I lift my arm and point.
“Wait, over there,” I tell him and see his eyes follow my finger.
Standing over by my grandfather’s barn are two large shadows, and as we head that way it becomes clear it’s the two missing deer.
But they’re not alone.
“Got a couple of strays here, Dodge,” my brother says with a grin as we get closer. There’s another man with him I don’t recognize, wearing a suit that looks completely out of place on the farm. “Oh, hey sis. Gran said you were over helping Dodge.”
He winks at me, as if there’s some sort of conspiracy, I’m supposed to be part of. But if there is, I have no idea what it is.
“Who’s this?” I ask, standing back a little, using Dodge’s huge bulk to get some distance between myself and the newcomer, who is giving off nefarious vibes.
“You must be Heather. My name’s Jackson, I represent a—”
“Don’t care who you are,” Dodge mutters, stepping between me and the man’s outstretched hand. “Fucking touch her and I’ll tear your arm off.”
“There’s no need to be…” The man trails off, clearing his throat and looking at Davis. “This is the, um, Mr. Ronson?”
Davis nods. “Yeah, that’s him.”
Dodge walks straight past them both, running his knuckles down the each of the reindeer’s flanks then slipping two fingers under each of their leather halters. “Come on, you two. Let’s get you home.”
“I’ll come with you,” I tell him, but Davis shakes his head.
“Gran and gramps want to see you inside. I’ll be in in a second. Good work, by the way, you did exactly what was needed.” He grins, then starts to chuckle, and I don’t like it one bit.
Chapter 7
Dodge
I grit my teeth and tighten my grip on the phone, hearing the case start to crack. “Fucking excuse me?”
“My hands are tied, Mr. Ronson. I have a duty to uphold the terms of the original agreement. My firm has been looking after this for a hundred years and I’m not about to be the one to drop the ball. It’s very clear, the reindeer are to be taken care of—”
“You think I don’t know my own business?”
I’m fuming. This has Davis Vredenburg’s name written all over it. The phone call came through almost as soon as I got back into the house. On fucking Christmas Eve, of all days. I can be kicked out of this place without notice if I break the terms. He knows that.
“Look, come over here any time. Take a look at the animals. They’re healthy, well cared for. I know my work.”
“And I have evidence that contradicts that statement. They have been out the paddock, outside of any fenced areas. No food. Dirty water…”
“Photographs, right? From the Vredenbergs? How many of them are in on it? You know it’s a fucking setup. Unless you’re in on it, too.”