Page 18 of In the Dead of Night

For the span of several heartbeats, she stood frozen, trying to decide if she’d really seen a shadow or if it was a figment of an overactive imagination. Or perhaps the shadows of the tree branches moving outside the window.

Her heart tripped when a floorboard creaked off to her right. “Who’s there?” she snapped.

A noise directly behind her spun her around. Sara stared blindly into the darkness, certain there was someone in the attic with her. Her breathing quickened. Her pulse roared in her ears. Backing away from the sound she reached for her cell phone only to realize she’d left it downstairs. Damn. Damn. Damn!

“I’m calling the police,” she called out. “Right now.”

A crash to her right sent her into flight mode. Blind and frightened, she turned and dashed in the general direction of the door. She sensed movement ahead. Heard the shuffle of shoes against the floor. She was nearly there when a large body crashed into her.

The impact sent her reeling. Rough hands yanked the notebook and envelope from her grasp. Sara tried to fight, but her feet tangled and she went down, landing hard on her backside. Half expecting an attack, she scrambled to her feet. Disoriented, she lunged in the general direction of the door only to hear it slam.

Two steps and her hand closed over the knob. Panicked breaths rushing in and out, she twisted it and yanked. But the door refused to open.

Not sure if her attacker was still in the room, Sara fought to open the door, yanking at the knob with both hands. She pounded with her fists. Kicked at the wood, but the lock held firm.

“Help!” she screamed.

The only answer to her pleas was the flicker of lightning outside the window and the echo of thunder in the distance.

* * *

NICK KNEW BETTER than to let himself dwell on thoughts of Sara. He sure as hell knew better than to drive out to the old Douglas mansion to see her. He had no good reason to be there. He was off duty, after all. Damn it, he shouldn’t be here. But she’d dominated his thoughts since the moment he’d laid eyes on her the day before.

He didn’t like it one bit. Didn’t like having a monkey on his back, telling him what to do. Since losing his wife, Nancy, in a car accident last year, he’d focused on healing. On moving ahead and getting on with his life. Leaving the grief and that dark place he’d been in in the past.

The last thing he needed in his life was someone to care about. Certainly not a woman. He wasn’t interested in dating or a relationship. He simply didn’t have the emotional energy. Not that Sara would be interested in him, anyway, he assured himself. Chances were, she had some successful, executive-type boyfriend back in San Diego who showered her with gifts and took her to fancy restaurants.

Once she left, Nick would never see her again. He told himself that’s the way he wanted it. He didn’t need complications. Healing had been a long and grueling road. Now he needed to stay focused on keeping his life on an even keel.

And one day California was going to fall into the ocean and disappear.

Nick wanted to believe it was the year of celibacy that had him chomping at the bit to see her, his hands itching to touch. He’d only gone on a handful of dates since Nancy’s car ran off the coast highway and his own life had crashed and burned right along with hers. He didn’t want to feel. Didn’t miss women. Or intimacy. He didn’t miss sex.

Until now, anyway.

Cursing beneath his breath, he pulled into the driveway of the Douglas place. Drizzle danced in the headlights as the beams played over her rental car. Surprise rippled through him when he noticed the house’s windows were dark. Odd, since it was only seven o’clock. Had the power gone out again? He hadn’t heard anything on the police radio. Only then did he find himself thinking of the message someone had written on her car window—Curiosity killed the cat.

Grabbing his flashlight, he left the car and started toward the front door. Beyond the junipers, the ocean crashed against the rocky beach below. He stepped onto the porch and knocked twice. Concern rippled through him when no one answered. Knocking one final time, he headed around to the rear of the house. Uneasiness washed over him when he found the back door open several inches.

Nick set his hand on his sidearm and silently entered the house. His flashlight beam played over the kitchen and living areas. He listened, but heard nothing as he moved down the hall. Entering the foyer, he shone the light up the nearest staircase. When he saw no movement, he took the steps two at a time to the top.

He cleared three bedrooms, the bathroom and master suite before noticing that the narrow door at the end of the hall stood ajar. The attic, he thought, and drew his weapon. The door opened to a narrow spiral staircase. At the top, a second door was closed.

His pulse spiked when he heard pounding and a muffled voice.

“Sara!” He rushed the stairs. A dozen scenarios scrolled through his mind, none of them good.

“In here!”

Relief flashed through him at the sound of her voice. He tried the knob, found it locked and put his ear close to the door. “Sara!”

“I’m here! Locked in!”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” But fear laced her voice.

“What happened?”