Pulse pounding, she inched toward the tub and stretched her arm until she reached the shower curtain.
Big breath.
She snatched it open.
The air rushed out of her. No dead body in the tub. That was good.
Her hand went to her face to push her hair back, but she hesitated. Not until she washed her hands.
She made quick work of that and then gathered her courage once more and headed down the stairs. A step creaked and she flinched. Careful. Someone could be down there.
The living room was empty. She moved to the kitchen. Nothing out of place. No one waiting to pounce on her. Back door was still locked.
How the hell had anyone gotten in?
All the windows were locked. She’d opened them last night for long enough to let some air in, then she’d closed and locked every single one before going to bed.
Her cell phone was still upstairs, charging by the bed. Still taking care just in case, she moved back to the living room to check the front door.
She turned the knob. No resistance.
The door opened.
That was impossible. She’d locked that door.
That knot of apprehension that had formed in her stomach expanded, rising up her esophagus and blocking off the ability to breathe.
Call Braddock.
She dared to poke her head outside. She checked the street. The idea that someone had come into the house while she slept sent a shudder through her.
The usual nondescript sedan sat across the street. She’d totally forgotten about the surveillance on her house. She couldn’t tell if it was Jenkins or not. How had anyone gotten past him?
Uncaring that she wore nothing but a bloodstained nightshirt, she rushed across the porch and down the steps. Apparently Jenkins noticed her coming and emerged from the car.
“What’s wrong?” He headed across the street, met her at the rickety gate.
“Call Braddock.” The words rushed from her mouth. She looked back at her house. “Someone was in there last night. There’s blood all over my bed.”
“Show me,” Jenkins said as he pulled out his cell phone to make the call.
CJ showed him to the bedroom, stood in the hall while he had a look.
With him on the phone she escaped to the bathroom. Couldn’t bear the smell any longer.
Maybe Edward was right. Maybe she shouldn’t be staying here.
Where the hell had the blood come from?
Was it human?
She thought of the cats she’d heard squalling and hissing across the street the other night. Had another harmless animal been sacrificed to send her a message?
Was Nash trying to scare her off?
Or maybe Ricky?
Bastards.
