58

 

HURRICANE POINT

Back home, Gwen took her cordless phone, walked out onto the deck, leaned against the rail, and called Dan.

“Someone broke into my house.”

“Are you all right?” he asked sharply.

“Fine. I was out. I just—”

“Stop!” Dan said sharply. “Save it till I get there. Just got to make a quick detour. I’ll be there in an hour. Lock your doors. Bolt them from the inside.”

*   *   *

Gwen waited. She hated waiting. Darkness fell. After forty minutes, Leo started to growl. Shit! Enough of this, swore Gwen. Marilyn was alone, with no dog to protect her, and she had witnessed and spoken to whoever had broken into her house. She was in danger now! Gwen grabbed her Maglite—flashlight-cum-weapon—called to Leo, and ran from her house. She ran full-pelt down the hill to Marilyn’s house, where the lights still burned. Her flashlight wobbled in her hand. The battery was old and the light was faint, all but useless. She heard Leo yelp, then when she ran toward the sound she collided with someone in the darkness, someone big and solid. She lashed out with fist and feet and flashlight, connected with flesh, heard a grunt, then she was violently shoved, falling hard on her back, knocking her head as she hit the ground, winded. She tried to jump up, to suck in breath, but it took seconds and by the time she was up, the man, it had not felt like a woman, had gone. Leo ran up to her, limping badly, licking her face.

“Marilyn. Go to Marilyn,” she rasped, still short of air.

She knocked violently on the locked door, called out. Marilyn appeared moments later, looking ghostly in a billowing white nightgown.

“Gwen! Are you all right? What’s happened?”

Gwen hurried in with Leo, locked the door behind her. She brandished her flashlight. “Marilyn, I’m just going to check your house. Stay here with Leo.” Gwen moved quickly through the rooms.

“No one’s here,” she reported back.

“Why would you think there was?” asked Marilyn, her voice tremulous.

“Leo growled. I ran down here, collided with someone. I think he was here to go after you. It was right by your house.”

“Well holy hell!” Anger mixed with fear now.

“I think he’s gone now. And it seems he was alone. Look, Marilyn, I want you to pack and leave. Now. Don’t wait till tomorrow. Just drive out of here. Stop at a hotel, motel. Wherever you need. I’d say stay the night with me, but I’m not sure my house is safe.”