Ryker rubbed his eyes. “Nikki and I kept getting woken up by something big crashing around outside our window last night. I couldn’t see anything, and even if I did, it would have been double. We’d go back to sleep and half an hour later, it would be back. Must have been a moose or something wandering around. Maybe it was attracted to the smell of the steaks we grilled up.”

“That was probably it,” Andrew said, feeling as if someone had just walked over his grave. “They were damn good steaks.”

“Well, I vote we cook inside tonight. I need my beauty rest.”

“That you do,” Andrew said, the joke on his lips falling far short from his eyes. He turned away before Ryker could spot his concern.

He tiptoed past Kate in the bed, slipped on his running shoes, and went out the front door.

Running up the drive, he kept an eye on the ground, searching for any tire tracks that didn’t belong. If the townies were back, perhaps they had driven onto the property late last night with their headlights turned off.

The gravel made it impossible to see if a multi-ton garbage truck had come around. Getting to the main road, he turned and headed onto the trail. The makings of a headache throbbed at his temples, but that didn’t stop him from pounding down the trail.

If they’re back, maybe Ryker and I can set some kind of trap or catch them in the act. Kate would feel better with Nikki inside with her, and we can put an end to this nonsense.

He leaped over a gnarled root. Or maybe it really was just a moose.

No matter how much he wanted that to be the case, he just knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.

Besides, he couldn’t punch a moose.

But he could unload on their night visitor if it was a person.

Sure, he was supposed to call the deputy if they heard anything else, but by the time the deputy got out here, the mystery prowler would be long gone. Andrew would have to show the little asshole how much he appreciated the nightly shenanigans.

He pulled up, gripping a low-hanging tree branch, panting so hard he thought he was going to hyperventilate. He spat into the leaves, fighting the urge to get sick. He needed some time to cool down before heading back to the cottage.

Andrew looked around, the terrain unfamiliar to him. Lost in his little revenge fantasy, he must have gone farther than usual. The lake was nowhere to be seen.

“Must have taken the wrong fork,” he said, the sound of his voice somewhat comforting. “Hope I didn’t get myself lost.”

His cell phone was attached to a band on his arm. Of course, there was no service out here.

Better that way. If I called Ryker, Kate would overhear and get upset.