31

Footsteps creaked overhead as Natalie and company roamed through the exhibit. Alison stuffed paper plates in the trashcan.

Thankful Lula had insisted on the board installing a dishwasher for such events, she loaded the cups and utensils and set it on the wash cycle. Its humming drowned out further sounds from upstairs. She glanced at her watch. 7:45 p.m. She had plenty of time to get home before the kids returned.

Not about to wait for the others, she turned off the lights in the kitchen and conference room. Her senses ratcheted up a notch in the darkness. Old houses, how they creaked and groaned.

Out on the porch, she locked the door behind her. Natalie could set the alarm when she left. Darkness wrapped around her like a cloak.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Polly would be glad of the rain. So would her thirsty roses.

Leaving the shelter of the porch, she noticed the security light affixed at the top of the stone steps had blown out.

Probably be her job to call the utility company tomorrow and report it.

As she walked away from the house, bushes rustled. She picked up the pace with a glance over her shoulder toward the house. She stutter-stepped to a halt.

The house lay dark behind her. Not a light shone from the upstairs. Goose pimples broke out on her arms. Had Natalie and crew somehow managed to slip out before she did?

The dark pressed in upon her. A sound again from the bushes. Small, nocturnal animals?

Or, remembering the drawings, nocturnal human monsters?

She clutched her purse, her keys in her other hand wedged like a weapon between her first two fingers. Should she go back and set the alarm?

Lightning flashed, and in that instant as she pivoted, she detected a shadowy form in the deep recesses of the porch she’d just vacated. “Who’s there?” Her voice sounded quavery and scared. Her heart drummed in her chest.

Silence.

Freaked, she decided the heirlooms were on their own and bolted through the sinister darkness of the yews, down the steps to the parking lot. The parking lot was deserted except for her lone black Lexus. She’d deliberately parked underneath a street light, but as she reached the safety of her car, glass crunched under her feet. And she realized the streetlights here were dark, too.

Spooked, she jabbed the lock release on her key chain. Light flooded the interior of the vehicle.

Grabbing the door handle, she caught sight of a flash of silver where her tire should be. A knife protruded from the vulcanized rubber of the tire. Deflated, the tire listed heavily. Her car was going nowhere fast.

She gripped the frame of the door, its solidity a small comfort between her and the darkness. Panting, she threw herself into the driver’s seat and slammed the door, locking it.

The thunder boomed closer and lightning zinged across the sky. Something moved at the top of the stairs. She grabbed for her phone.

Idiot.

She’d turned off the power. It would take a minute to charge up. Coldness despite the muggy April evening enveloped her.

Evil approached. She could feel it deep in her bones, a prickle rising on the back of her neck. The age-old reaction of the prey in response to the predator. Menacing her in the darkness, it was coming for her. Gravel crunched, closer and closer.

Oh, God, help me.

There was a sudden flash of light as another car swept into the parking lot.

Savior or accomplice? Why hadn’t she listened to Mike? What was she thinking stirring up trouble . . .?

The headlights revealed a pair of black-jean-clad legs on the steps. A man’s legs.

Robert jumped out of his SUV. “Hey, you,” he shouted as footsteps pounded up the stairs. “Stop!”

Her suspicions from earlier returned. Robert? Savior or accomplice?

But if she couldn’t trust Robert . . .

She released a pent-up breath. She undid the locking mechanism and got out of her car. As the adrenaline seeped out of her body, she took a few wobbly steps toward Robert where his SUV stood running, lights ablaze. Robert met her halfway and held her upright as he supported her weight.

Her teeth chattered. “Y-you saw him?”

“I saw something.” He peered into her face. “You’re in shock. What happened?”

She shuddered. “My tire.” She gestured.

Leaving her propped against his truck with its still-running engine, he examined her vehicle, taking a handkerchief out of his chinos and prying out the knife. Wrapping the cloth around the knife, he leaned into his car, tucking it under the seat for safety. “For your detective.”

“He’s not my detective.”

Robert gave her a funny look. “Are you sure?”

No, she wasn’t sure about anything. But she didn’t voice her doubts to Robert.

Taking a look at her frozen face, Robert fumbled at his back pocket. “I’m calling him. He gave all of us his cards. Guess he knew you needed all the guardian angels you could get.” In the faint light of the SUV, Robert withdrew a card from his wallet and dialed the number. No one picked up. Robert left a terse message on Mike’s voicemail.

“He took my kids to Redeemer. I have to get home.”

“I’ll drive you home. Someone made sure your car wasn’t going anywhere tonight.” He helped her into the vehicle.

Always the gentlemen. Beloved of dogs and Bible study teachers.

She shook her head. No, that wasn’t how it went. She suppressed a giggle. Was she hysterical?

If she could only stop shaking.

With a final ear-splitting crash of thunder, the rain cascaded in torrents from the night sky.

“Got any of that great coffee at home? I think you need a strong cup of joe with a lot of sugar. Best thing for the nerves, my friend Dr. Stephen would say.”

She heard the smile in his voice. Beloved of children—that was it. A nice man. Who were, in her experience, an endangered species.

“I’ll have you home in five minutes.”

Once home, she gave him her house key. Her hands shook too badly to do the honors. In the kitchen, he ushered her into a chair.

Thank God, they’d beat Mike and the children home. There’d be hell to pay when he heard about her latest adventure. But a niggle of joy at the thought of his comforting presence filled her, warmed her. Better than the Kona.

“Just show me where you keep everything. You relax.”

She pointed to the cupboard. “Do we have to tell him?” meaning Mike.

Robert, filling the carafe with water, laughed. “Yes, we do. He needs to know.”

As her decaf brewed, he pulled out a chair.

Truck doors slamming, the cavalry returned. She heard Mike shouting from the street at the patrolman.

She winced. She’d not meant to land the officer in hot water.

As he stormed into the kitchen, a subdued pair of teenagers on his heels, she knew her reckoning had come.