While Alex enjoyed Halloween, Zoe could do without the holiday. Try as she might, Alex couldn’t make her dog understand the futility of barking at every trick-or-treater who came to the door. From a canine point of view, the holiday was nothing but one ghoulish threat after another.
The sun was starting to set. Soon the street would be chaos, as Alton Road was the place to be in Meadowbrook on Halloween. Alex wasn’t about to let her house become the lame one on the block, so she’d bought twelve boxes of full-size Snickers bars and a host of allergy-friendly options as well.
She arranged the candy on silver trays stationed by the front door, a tiny pang tapping at her heart. She couldn’t remember Lettie’s last costume—it had been that long ago—but she’d never forget her daughter’s bouncy energy as the magic hour approached.
Alex tempered the ache of time with another long drink from her glass. In the bathroom, she used the last bit of mouthwash. Nick was due home any minute, so she took the empty bottle of mouthwash to the garage, where she buried it along with the empty bottle of wine at the bottom of the trash. She didn’t need him reprimanding her again.
From the doorway, Alex watched a police car drive down Alton Road and make a slow revolution around the cul-de-sac. Good. They were doing street patrols, as Alex had requested. She had reported the stalker to them and asked for a thorough investigation plus added security on Halloween.
Redirecting her gaze over to Brooke’s house, Alex half expected to catch movement in the woods. She was still shaken from her close encounter with the stalker. Brooke might not have been concerned, but Alex sure was.
It was possible she had upset Brooke by filing the police report, but what choice did she have? You can’t have a strange man lurking in the woods, spying on people, and not do something about it, Alex had reasoned. Who knows what might happen?
Nearby, Emily’s house cast a ghoulish glow thanks to Ken’s holiday decorations, but Alex knew from speaking with her sister that Halloween fun was in short supply. Emily was still obsessing over Mandy Kumar.
What would have happened, Alex wondered, if she’d come clean about Ken ogling Brooke’s photos or seeing him sneaking away from the Kumars’ place? A big fight over the former and perhaps divorce over the latter. The relationship was too fragile for her to add fuel to the fire.
If she was honest with herself, Alex felt her relationship with Nick was strained as well. As if to punctuate that worry, Nick called to say he was running late. He had a project to finish for a client and wouldn’t be home until sometime after seven. Years ago, that would have been sacrilegious. Now it was par for the course. Oh, well.
Lettie was hiding out in her room, where she spent most of her time these days. Alex had been warned that her daughter would vanish during senior year, gracing the family with her presence only occasionally, but the reality was more pronounced than she’d expected.
Alex decided to open a new bottle of wine. She could always use toothpaste as a sub for mouthwash. She selected a demi-sized bottle—375 milliliters, equivalent to two and a half glasses total, which made it easy to store in the cabinet behind the quinoa and pasta collection that hadn’t been moved for ages.
She stored a case of wine at her office as well. Stored. Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that, Alex, said the voice in her head. The correct word was hid.
Thirty minutes before the official start of All Hallows’ Eve, Alex let Zoe out the back door to do her business. She was arranging a second row of Snickers bars into a nice display when she realized she hadn’t let Zoe back in.
Just an oversight. It happens.
Alex tried to ignore the fuzzy warmth of her wine buzz as she went to the back door where Zoe would normally be waiting, tail wagging, eager to reenter the home. This time, however, her dog was nowhere to be seen.
Fear tickled the nape of Alex’s neck. She called Zoe’s name but got no response.
Lettie eventually came downstairs. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“It’s Zoe,” Alex said. “She’s left the yard.”
Lettie’s hand flew to her mouth.
Alex noticed a tree branch on the lawn that she didn’t think had been there before. A nearby tree showed a sheared limb. A falling branch could have easily startled Zoe, Alex thought.
“She just went out,” Alex said, willing calm into her voice. “She couldn’t have gone far.”
“I’ll go across the street, check the woods behind the Kumars’,” Lettie said. “Zoe always likes to explore those woods.”
Alex was about to agree but remembered Brooke’s stalker. She didn’t want Lettie searching the woods alone—or at all.
“No, you stay home in case she returns. We’ll find her.”
Alex sprinted across the cul-de-sac toward the wooded area behind the Kumars’. The most direct route took her through Brooke’s yard. One second she was walking on grass; the next, it was leaves and twigs crunching beneath her heavy footsteps. She tried to tread more carefully to better hear any movement, maybe catch the sound of Zoe’s barking.
Panic gripped her. If she lost her beloved dog, if something happened to Zoe, she’d never forgive herself.
Alex scanned the woods, but Zoe’s brindle coat nearly matched the color of the fallen leaves blanketing the forest floor. Dusk deepened the shadows, making shapes hard to distinguish.
Alex slowed her steps, calling Zoe’s name as she went. From nearby she heard a noise, something breaking—a stick, perhaps? Damp earth filled her nose with the smell of decay. Overhead, branches creaked in the blustery wind.
Brooke Bailey’s home loomed as an ominous presence in the distance. From where she stood, Alex could see into Brooke’s kitchen, with no shades to block her view. She flashed back to the night the stalker texted Brooke, perhaps from this very spot.
Was he out here now? Alex suddenly didn’t feel quite so alone. A chill passed through her.
“Zoe?” she called, her voice shaking in the gathering gloom.
Then she heard it again, another soft sound—the ground shifting beneath the weight of a footstep, perhaps? Alex’s heart beat a jackhammer rhythm. Blood rushed to her head. She heard it once more, a crunching, brittle leaves turning to dust under the weight and pressure of what she was sure had been a footstep. The sound seemed to come from every direction, impossible to pinpoint.
It was nothing, Alex told herself. Her mind was just playing tricks on her. But damn, she wished she’d brought a flashlight. Sometimes kids used the path through these woods to reach the nearby lake. Maybe a teen party was going on. That had happened before.
The surrounding trees seemed to grow taller, closing in on her. As Alex headed back toward the street, she heard a branch break. This wasn’t the creaking sound of windblown boughs, but a distinct snap.
She let go a shuddering breath. She wasn’t alone. Turning, she raced for the street. Branches from small saplings lashed at her face as she ran.
The street was in view, and she could see light from the lampposts up ahead. Close to the spot where the woods ended and Brooke’s backyard began, Alex’s foot caught a root and down she went. Her knees sank into muddy earth still spongy from a recent rain. Sharp pain bolted up her wrists as she used them to brace her fall.
From behind, Alex heard a rustling noise. Something was approaching and seemed to be closing in fast. She crawled forward on her hands and knees, trying to regain her footing as she went. Just when she thought she’d dug her sneaker in hard enough to get upright, her foot skidded out behind her, pushing away wet leaves and loose soil.
Eventually she rose to standing, finishing her sprint with lumbering, off-kilter steps. When she finally broke the tree line, Alex spun around until she faced the forest, mustering the courage to confront the threat head-on. Fear made it hard to breathe. Whoever had been following her was coming—and coming fast.
Rustling sounds grew louder in her ears. A scream bubbled in her throat, about to escape her lips, when Zoe came bursting out of the woods. Her tail wagged like windshield wipers in a driving rain.
Alex’s fear gave way to unrestrained joy. She got no more than three or four steps before Zoe was pressing her mud-caked paws against her legs, pleading to be picked up.
Alex scooped Zoe in her arms, cradling her in an embrace. She pressed her face against Zoe’s fur and inhaled deeply. Her relief was profound. Alex made another pledge: no more drinking, more focus, more mindfulness, less noise and chaos in her head. She had everything she needed to be happy—a devoted husband, a healthy daughter, a beautiful home, a fulfilling career—but in that moment, nothing mattered to her more than the safety and well-being of her sweet, vulnerable dog.
With her face pressed against Zoe’s neck, Alex caught a flash of something white stuck in her collar. Odd. She set Zoe to the ground, surprised to discover a piece of paper folded into a V-shape and tucked securely between the collar and Zoe’s fur.
Alex unfolded the paper with a tingle of apprehension. On one side she saw neat handwriting in black pen. A streetlamp cast a yellow glow, bright enough for her to make out the words.
Alex’s vision shifted in and out of focus. Even so, she could read the note. She read it several times to make sure she understood the meaning. She got it—loud and clear.
Her reliable dog had not run off. No, someone had taken her in order to deliver a message—a warning, really, presumably from the stalker himself.
The note read: Back off or you’ll regret it.