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“Hello?” I said, though I knew that no one would answer even if someone was there.

The silence was punctuated by the distant shriek of an owl. Horned owls mostly hooted. Shrieks were used as warnings.

Chances were that Jack wasn’t talking to me, warning me about some threat, but I took it for that and decided to listen.

I closed and locked the door. I didn’t, but I really should have just taken a look out there, into that place that was familiar but also always surprising, my backyard AKA The Wild

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31

THE NIGHT WITH Sonny had been a perfect distraction, but as I stood next to the kitchen counter and sipped my first-of-the-day cup of coffee, I pondered what I thought I’d seen the night before.

Sonny had left before sunup because of some technical problem with the alien computer. I joked that they kept getting a busy signal.

After he left, I fell back to sleep, my subconscious telling me things I needed to know.

Something occurred to me and woke me again.

Had someone on the other side of the wall kept Jack away? Had someone been watching me from back there? The rock had come over. Someone had broken in. Bones that I’d thought were finger bones had been left behind with the sculptures as well as the turtle.

I gave one humorless laugh as I realized that I might not only be a part of what was going on but also maybe I was being targeted—for what exactly wasn’t clear. The random appearance of defleshed bones wasn’t good, but just how personal were they

Who would it be? The man who’d attacked me? If so, where had he been the rest of the time? It was like he’d knocked me over and then left town. Had he pitched a tent somewhere in The Wild?

I threw on some jeans and my boots. I left through the museum’s front door so I could get around the building and into The Wild.

I hadn’t spotted a tent anywhere, and there were frequently a few in sight. It was already hot, and I forgot my hat as I lifted my boots high to get through the landscape.

I didn’t get far before I realized this was a bad idea, but as I scanned again, I spotted something that kept me going. I trudged toward a clearing of sorts. Someone had forged a trail out here. It didn’t lead all the way to my patio wall but stopped about twenty feet away. No one could watch me from this far out.

I spun around and scanned yet again, but didn’t see anything suspicious.

I wasn’t ready to give up. I made my way back to the patio, grabbing a ladder from a small shed off to the side.

I set the ladder next to the wall and climbed up. There were worn spots along the bark of Jack’s limb from his sharp talons. I glanced outward but didn’t see him anywhere. It was daytime, though. I wouldn’t expect him.

As I turned to make my way back down the ladder, my eyes landed on something on the ground on the other side of the wall. It was a small brown metallic box of some sort.

I wasn’t going back out there to retrieve whatever it was, but if there was another way …

I needed a long scoop of some sort. A fishing pole with a sure hook. I remembered an item that my father had used years earlier. It was a grabber, something he’d bought when he hurt his knee and spent some time on crutches.

It only took a few minutes to retrieve it from one of the shelves in my lab.

With the grabber, I climbed back up the ladder and leaned over the top of the wall, reaching down for the item. I got close but not close enough. I leaned a little more. I hoisted more of my body onto the top of the wall.

My father had been careful and wary. He’d commented about my lack of self-preservation and how I should take everything just a little slower than I did.

I had slowed down some, particularly when it came to my work. But as I reached for the thing on the ground, I knew I should try to find something else to use—but I was so, so close.

I wasn’t even all that surprised when I went over, landing awkwardly on my arm and into a bed of cacti. But there was a surprise to come. For an instant, and since I was still conscious, I recognized that the pain I wasn’t feeling quite yet was going to be brutal. The cactus needles themselves were going to be torturous, but, even worse, I’d broken my arm.

My humerus, at about the greater tubercle, I was sure. And not only did I not have my hat, I’d left my phone inside too.

Shit.

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