Night Prey. Sharon Dunn

Whoever had broken into the raptor center and her house had succeeded in their attempt to scare her by threatening to harm the birds at the center. She was furious at the threat, but she was also scared. Very, very scared.

      Keith ran his hands through his wavy brown hair, then slapped the note with his hand. “Don’t tell my grandparents.” Strength returned to his voice, and he lifted his head. “Grandma and Gramps shouldn’t have to deal with something like this.”

      “Good thing you are here to help.” The protective stance he had taken toward his grandparents was admirable. She found herself wishing he had been at the center earlier. He would have known what to do with the intruder. Maybe if Keith had stayed awhile to visit, there wouldn’t have been a break-in at all. Though she tried not to, mental images of birds fluttering wildly and the note on her laptop made her legs wobbly all over again.

      Keith stepped toward her. “You look kind of pale. Are you sure you don’t want to come in and sit down?”

      Jenna stepped across the threshold. “It’s kinda hot in here.”

      “Not much ventilation,” he said.

      She moved back outside and turned on the tiny landing. “I think the cool night air would be the best thing for me.” She was surprised that after all these years, he was still keenly tuned in to her emotional state. Surprised and flattered.

      They had learned to read each other while rock climbing the last summer they were together. As climbers, they had always gone out in a group, but Jenna had proved to be his best climbing partner. Keith had been mentored by an older climber the year before. The next summer, their last summer together, he had taught Jenna. Because their lives depended on it, they had become adept at knowing not only what their climbing partner would do physically while hanging from a cliff face, but how their emotional states affected them. She wondered what he was reading from her now. She felt so anxious and confused, she didn’t know what to do. But his presence was making it better.

      She stared up at the sky. Pulsating stars and wispy clouds accented the black dome above her. Strength returned to her limbs. She wasn’t shaking anymore.

      Keith rested his back against the railing, lacing his hands together over his lean stomach. He looked up. “It is peaceful out here, isn’t it?”

      “Always calms me down.” She took in a deep breath of fresh night air. “Better than therapy.” She bent her head, tracing the dark outline of the jagged mountains and flat buttes against the lighter shade of sky. Off in the distance, a light blipped and disappeared. She pushed herself off the railing. “What was that?”

      Keith leaned toward her. “What?”

      “Over there by those buttes. I think I saw a light.” She squinted and took a step toward the opposite railing, cupping her hands over the rough wood of the two-by-four. “I’m pretty sure I saw something. Do you have a pair of binoculars?”

      “I can find some.” Keith stepped into the huge room, opened a couple of bureau drawers and lifted a coat and sweater as Jenna peered inside. Artificial light gave the space a warm glow. The place was free of clutter. Keith seemed to desire a bare bones existence. A black German shepherd settled in the corner.

      She took a step inside. “I didn’t know you had a dog.” The shepherd lifted his head but remained in the bed.

      Keith opened a cupboard. A dorm-size refrigerator and double burner resting on counter space indicated that the area functioned as a mini kitchen. “That’s my buddy, Jet.”

      Jenna took another step inside. Two paintings, both landscapes, caught her eye. They were places she knew well, a river and a mountaintop no more than a few miles away. Was Keith aware that he was painting their childhood haunts?

      “Found them.” Keith pulled a pair of binoculars from a lower cupboard.

      She retreated to the balcony and turned her attention back to the area where she had spotted the light. Nothing caught her eye. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something or someone was out there.

      Keith’s bare feet padded lightly on the wood floor. Once outside, he handed her the binoculars.

      She leaned toward him and pulled the binoculars up to her face. She adjusted focus and scanned the landscape filled with shadows. “I saw what looked like a glowing light.”

      Keith surveyed the tiny landing and then looked up. “Maybe if we get higher.” He tested the railing by shaking it. “I’ll climb first and then pull you up.”

      He jumped on the railing and flipped himself on the roof with the deftness of an Olympic gymnast. He turned and stared down at her. “Your turn.”

      Already, her heart was racing. As a young girl she had had a fear of heights. Keith had helped her overcome that, but she was out of practice. The old fears were back. She handed him the binoculars first and then crawled on the railing. “This brings back some memories.”

      “We never climbed houses.” There was something guarded about the statement.

      “Just rock cliffs, right?” Her life would have gone on a completely different trajectory if she hadn’t met Keith when she was ten. Like her father, who was the town’s librarian, she’d spent most of her time with her face buried in a book. She had always loved nature, but Keith’s desire to teach her to kayak and climb had awakened her sense of adventure. If it hadn’t been for him, she probably would have ended up working in a lab somewhere instead of running the rescue center. And she definitely wouldn’t be here, about to climb on the roof of a house, looking for answers to a mystery.

      “You’re going to have to stand on that railing,” he coaxed.

      “I know.” Her hands were sweating.

      Keith pushed himself to the edge of the roof. “My hand is right here.”

      She eased to her feet, finding her balance by resting a hand on the wall. Whether showing her how to rock climb or build a campfire, he’d been a patient teacher. Jenna lifted her head and locked into Keith’s gaze. She reached for him. He gripped her wrist. The warmth of his touch permeated her skin to the marrow. “I’m dizzy.”

      “I’m right here. Other hand. Let go of the wall, Jenna,” he soothed.

      He pulled her up and into his arms in one easy movement. She scooted toward him and away from the edge of the roof. Her hand rested on his chest. Beneath the softness of the cotton shirt, his heart pounded out a raging beat. She bent her head, out of breath. “I never did learn to like heights.” The truth was that when she was hanging from a mountain, if it had been anyone else beside Keith holding the rope, she probably wouldn’t have been able to climb.

      “You always did just fine.” His voice warmed.

      His face was close enough for her to hear the soft intake and exhale of air. She could smell his soapy cleanness. She’d kept Keith Roland frozen in time. All these years, he’d been the boy who was her summertime buddy. But he wasn’t a boy anymore. His transition into manhood had been marked by such tragedy that she’d held on to the part of him that had been so wonderful, the boy part of him. Here in front of her, holding her, was the man she couldn’t make heads or tails of.

      He scooted away, and the coolness of the night enveloped her. “Let’s see if we can spot anything from here,” he said, clearing his throat.

      Jenna pulled her knees up to her chest. Then she studied the outline of the mountains. Again, a light flickered and disappeared. She pointed and grabbed his arm. “Right about there.”

      He lifted the binoculars, craning his neck slowly.

      “See anything?”

      He shook his head. “Maybe if we stand.”

      “On the roof?”

      He laughed, and there was something of the adventurous boy in the laughter. “Come on, you know I can talk you into almost anything.”

      “That