leaving…though the driver could be parking it out of sight, planning to come back on foot. Unless he’d discovered everything he needed to know by just following her and seeing her name and rural address on the mailbox.
Swiftly climbing behind the wheel, she drove toward the highway with her headlights off, using just the moonlight as her guide, slowing to check every possible turnoff along the way.
When she reached the highway, she edged forward slowly, watching for any movement.
Nothing .
Frustrated, she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and stared at the empty road. If that vehicle belonged to her suspect and he thought she was easy prey, he’d have a big surprise. Anticipation and determination made her muscles tense, heightening her senses and awareness of the vast, empty forest surrounding her. Made her long for that confrontation; for the final resolution of the case.
Still, the thought of a watchful night ahead, when an intruder could so easily slip up to her cabin, unseen in the darkness, set her nerves on edge.
She waited another ten minutes, then drove slowly back home. Pulling to a stop near the front door, she glanced at her patrol car parked nearby, still emblazoned with K-9 unit on the side. Now, she missed her dog more than ever. She’d been blessed with the county’s only drug dog for over four years, until Charger was shot during a meth lab bust six months ago that had left Charger with a bullet in the chest.
He’d been her constant companion, her partner. Her best friend. Until now, the thought of replacing him had made her heart clench…though the county had no money to purchase a new dog, at any rate.
But any dog would offer the comfort of sharp ears and a loud bark. Why hadn’t she moved past her sorrow and found one sooner?
At the door of the cabin, she stood in the entryway as the minutes ticked by, straining to hear any sound of someone approaching. Only the faint cry of an owl broke the silence.
Now, a fitful breeze picked up, rushing through the pines and rustling the leaves of the aspens into a host of delicate castanets behind the house.
Chilled, she finally let herself inside and shoved the dead bolt home. She walked through the main floor, closing curtains and locking windows in the two small bedrooms and great room, then she double-checked the back door and windows in the kitchen. Securely locked, as always.
“Nothing to worry about,” she told herself, speaking aloud into the silence. “Nothing at all.”
Maybe that car had simply belonged to someone who had taken a wrong turn, stopped in her drive to double-check a map or GPS, then backed out and left.
But how often did even a single car pass by on these isolated roads at night? And the timing, right after her undercover search at the tavern, was too coincidental to ignore.
She wouldn’t bet her life on that car belonging to someone who was lost.
Heading for her main floor bedroom, she reached up in the closet and pulled her service revolver from its locked case. Loaded it. Then she gave her ankle holster a pat for reassurance before settling on the sofa with a pillow and blanket, the exterior lights all blazing at both the front and back doors.
It was time to visit her childhood friend Kris down in Battle Creek. Maybe even after church later this morning…
Before she had too much time to think about all the reasons why it would be a very bad idea.
“I can’t believe it!” Kris Donaldson rushed forward and gave Megan a hug, then held her at arm’s length and frowned, her lovely, honey-brown eyes filling with concern. “You look exhausted. What’s up?”
“Late night.” A sleepless one, listening for footsteps outside, but sharing that bit of news would lead to too many questions. “You look fantastic.”
“I couldn’t be happier.” She waved a hand toward the newly finished cabin behind her, and the long kennel building and barns at the other end of the meadow. “I got to move into
Swiftly climbing behind the wheel, she drove toward the highway with her headlights off, using just the moonlight as her guide, slowing to check every possible turnoff along the way.
When she reached the highway, she edged forward slowly, watching for any movement.
Nothing .
Frustrated, she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and stared at the empty road. If that vehicle belonged to her suspect and he thought she was easy prey, he’d have a big surprise. Anticipation and determination made her muscles tense, heightening her senses and awareness of the vast, empty forest surrounding her. Made her long for that confrontation; for the final resolution of the case.
Still, the thought of a watchful night ahead, when an intruder could so easily slip up to her cabin, unseen in the darkness, set her nerves on edge.
She waited another ten minutes, then drove slowly back home. Pulling to a stop near the front door, she glanced at her patrol car parked nearby, still emblazoned with K-9 unit on the side. Now, she missed her dog more than ever. She’d been blessed with the county’s only drug dog for over four years, until Charger was shot during a meth lab bust six months ago that had left Charger with a bullet in the chest.
He’d been her constant companion, her partner. Her best friend. Until now, the thought of replacing him had made her heart clench…though the county had no money to purchase a new dog, at any rate.
But any dog would offer the comfort of sharp ears and a loud bark. Why hadn’t she moved past her sorrow and found one sooner?
At the door of the cabin, she stood in the entryway as the minutes ticked by, straining to hear any sound of someone approaching. Only the faint cry of an owl broke the silence.
Now, a fitful breeze picked up, rushing through the pines and rustling the leaves of the aspens into a host of delicate castanets behind the house.
Chilled, she finally let herself inside and shoved the dead bolt home. She walked through the main floor, closing curtains and locking windows in the two small bedrooms and great room, then she double-checked the back door and windows in the kitchen. Securely locked, as always.
“Nothing to worry about,” she told herself, speaking aloud into the silence. “Nothing at all.”
Maybe that car had simply belonged to someone who had taken a wrong turn, stopped in her drive to double-check a map or GPS, then backed out and left.
But how often did even a single car pass by on these isolated roads at night? And the timing, right after her undercover search at the tavern, was too coincidental to ignore.
She wouldn’t bet her life on that car belonging to someone who was lost.
Heading for her main floor bedroom, she reached up in the closet and pulled her service revolver from its locked case. Loaded it. Then she gave her ankle holster a pat for reassurance before settling on the sofa with a pillow and blanket, the exterior lights all blazing at both the front and back doors.
It was time to visit her childhood friend Kris down in Battle Creek. Maybe even after church later this morning…
Before she had too much time to think about all the reasons why it would be a very bad idea.
“I can’t believe it!” Kris Donaldson rushed forward and gave Megan a hug, then held her at arm’s length and frowned, her lovely, honey-brown eyes filling with concern. “You look exhausted. What’s up?”
“Late night.” A sleepless one, listening for footsteps outside, but sharing that bit of news would lead to too many questions. “You look fantastic.”
“I couldn’t be happier.” She waved a hand toward the newly finished cabin behind her, and the long kennel building and barns at the other end of the meadow. “I got to move into
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