Bile rose up her throat.
She clasped the key so hard it cut through her skin, and she might not have noticed the pain except a dog started barking, breaking into her obsessive fantasy.
A big dog, from the sounds of it.
Not a little yapper.
And not penned.
Wrenching her gaze from the house, she narrowed her eyes into the frigid darkness and focused down the hill toward the corner where the main road split and this offshoot continued up the hill. There was only one streetlight between Kristen’s house and that fork.
She saw the bobbing beam of a flashlight.
Shit!
Her heart nearly stopped.
Someone was walking their damned dog!
Blocking her way out.
Her ears strained and she heard the pound of footsteps.
She racewalked in the other direction, toward the dead end, where no house could be built as the lot was essentially little more than a sheer cliff.
She had to get away before she was seen!
Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! A brisk tempo of running shoes hitting pavement.
Oh, hell, the guy wasn’t walking his dog. He was running. Even though it was almost midnight. The runner and dog reached the lamp post with its eerie pool of bluish light. The man wasn’t all that big, but the beast-some kind of Doberman/Rottweiler mix-was huge. Massive. Drooling.
Shit!
The killer took one final glance at Kristen’s house and froze.
There, staring straight at her, peering through the damned bedroom window, was Kristen Daniels Delmonico.
The bitch.
Chapter 10
Kristen’s hand stopped in midair. The blind she had been adjusting was partially open as she squinted through the window past the shrubbery of her yard, and at the far side of the street she saw movement. A blur.
She sucked in her breath.
What was it?
Was it her imagination, or was someone standing beneath the drooping boughs of the ancient Douglas fir trees that stood like giant sentinels in the vacant lot?
You’re seeing things, she told herself, but her heart was jackhammering, her breath caught in her lungs. Don’t do this, Kristen. Don’t let your imagination run away with you. It’s probably just a deer-or shadows.
Another movement outside. A dark figure starting to make tracks.
“Oh, God.” She switched off the bedside lamp, causing the room to go dark, cutting the reflection and allowing her eyes to adjust so she could see more clearly.
There it was again, that murky blur.
Someone running or walking quickly toward the dead end.
Without thinking, Kristen flew out of the bedroom, down the hallway to the kitchen.
Ross was lying on the couch.
“Someone’s outside,” she said, searching in the drawer for her flashlight. “Across the street. Watching the place. They took off toward the end of the street when they saw me looking outside.”
“What?” He was instantly up, reaching for his shoes. “What do you mean? Who?”
“I don’t know. Just that someone’s out there. Someone who shouldn’t be,” she said, and couldn’t keep the undercurrent of panic from her voice.
“Then stay inside. I’ll check it out.” He was halfway to the kitchen.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No way.” His voice was firm. “It’s probably nothing, but on the off chance it’s trouble, you stay with Lissa. I’ll yell if I need you to call 911.”
“No, Ross, I’ve got to show you where I saw-”
He grabbed her by the arms. “Stop it! I’m going out there. You’re staying here. With our daughter. End of story!” He scooped the kitchen phone’s handset from its cradle and slapped it into her hand. “If I need help, I’ll yell. Lock the door behind me.” He was outside, letting in a wave of wintry air before she could say another word. She twisted the dead bolt and stared through the kitchen window toward the street, but Ross had already disappeared into the shadows.
Lissa’s door opened and she stepped into the hallway. “What’s going on? You were shouting. Is…is Dad still here?” Wearing faded jeans and a short T-shirt, she looked about five years younger than her age. Kristen couldn’t resist hugging her close, startling her.
“Yes, Lissa, your father’s here, and he’s going to stay overnight.” Her daughter opened her mouth as if to protest, but Kristen cut her off. “It’s okay. In fact, it’s a good thing, so please do not, I mean, do not give me one second’s grief about it.”
“Geez,” Lissa said, but she didn’t argue further as she scanned the kitchen and family room. “So, what’s going on? Where’s Dad now?”
“Outside. I thought I saw someone across the street and…well, Dad’s checking it out.”
“You saw someone doing what?”
“I don’t know. Lurking.”
“Oh.” Lissa hesitated, ran a hand through her hair, then admitted, “It was probably Zeke.”
“Zeke?”
Gnawing on a corner of her lip, Lissa shook her head as if silently arguing with herself.
“Melissa?”
“I, um, sorta told him to come over.”
“But…it’s after midnight. And why wouldn’t he just come in the door and-” The light in her mind suddenly dawned, with a painful, intense brilliance she’d tried to ignore. “You were going to sneak him into the house?”
Lissa lifted a shoulder. As if it were no big deal. “Just for a little while. We were just going to hang out.”
“Melissa Renee Delmonico, that is the absolute worst idea I’ve ever heard of! You can’t sneak Zeke or any boy, or anyone for that matter, into the house. You know that.”
For once Lissa didn’t roll her eyes, just stared at the door as Ross returned. Alone. He snapped off the flashlight. His face was set and hard, the lines near the sides of his mouth more pronounced.
“Zeke’s not with you?” Kristen asked.
“No…why would he be? The only person outside was a guy jogging with his dog. No one else.”
“A jogger?” No way!
“With a flashlight and dog. A big dog.”
Kristen shook her head. “The person I saw didn’t have a flashlight. I’m telling you”-she slid a glance at her daughter, and though she didn’t want to frighten Lissa, she figured everyone in the family needed to know what they were dealing with-“someone was lurking outside, across the street. Not moving until they saw me looking through the blinds. This wasn’t a jogger or someone walking his dog.”
Ross’s eyes were dark, his expression even more severe. He set his flashlight on the kitchen counter, leaned a hip against the top of the cupboards, and folded his arms over his chest. His gaze was riveted on his daughter. “Why did you think it might be Zeke?”
Lissa blinked hard, then started to turn as if heading for her room.
“Hold it right there. Answer me. What’s going on?” Ross demanded.
Lissa’s shoulders stiffened. She sniffed loudly, then finally turned. Her lower lip began to quiver, though she fought breaking down completely. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on, Dad, and it’s all your fault. Zeke…Zeke doesn’t like it that you’re hanging out and…and I told him to come over. Yeah, that’s right, I know what time it is,” she added when Ross glanced at his watch. “Anyway, he was going to come in through my window and-”
“Wait! What?”
“I was going to sneak him in, but it doesn’t matter anyway because I guess he stood me up. Again.” She swiped the back of her hand under her nose and added acrimoniously, “Happy now?”
Before Ross could respond, Kristen said, “Don’t bother with the lecture. Melissa and I have just had it. She knows that she made a mistake, but”-she switched her attention to her daughter-“if this is the way he treats you-”
“Save it, Mom.” Lissa glared at her parents.
Ross said, “Call him.”
“What?”
The set of his jaw brooked no argument. “Find out if Zeke was here. Maybe your mom and I scared him off.”
“I don’t want to-”
“Call that little creep right now, or I will.”