and vegetate.
He picked up their plates. “You relax. I’ll do the dishes.”
Sami didn’t argue. She set up their portable stereo and put in a jazz CD to soothe her nerves. Taking her laptop upstairs, she lounged on their bed, listening to the music drift up from below.
When her eyes drooped, she shut the computer off and stretched out. She didn’t know anything else until her eyes flew open, alone in bed, her heart racing, the house dark and silent.
Fumbling for a moment, she found the light button on her watch and realized it was after midnight.
“Steve?”
She shivered as her voice echoed off the bare walls.
She climbed out of bed and made her way down the hall. “Steve? Where are you?”
Downstairs felt empty, too. He’d shut the stereo off. The door to his study stood partially open, light spilling into the hallway from the desk lamp, but his computer sat dark.
No Steve.
She opened the door to the basement and suppressed another shiver. Despite the lights being off she called out, “Steve? Are you down there?”
He wasn’t in the kitchen. She stepped out onto the porch. The truck was nosed into the carport where she’d left it. Across the yard she spotted Mutt and Jeff in the corral, their heads hung in sleep. She walked the porch, circling the house, still no Steve.
She felt watched. As a severe case of the willies overcame her, she fought the urge to run into the house and slam the door behind her.
“Steven Corey, this isn’t very damn funny!”
She realized the Florida sounds she expected—crickets, frogs, whip-poor-wills—were all missing. The woods were deathly silent around her.
Moving slowly and with deliberation to rein in her growing panic, she went to the kitchen, found a flashlight, and slipped on her sneakers. She clicked on the front porch light and walked across the grass toward the barn, stopping at the edge of the light’s reach. The geldings were now awake and watching her.
She turned the flashlight on and crossed the remaining ocean of blackness to the barn. She turned on the barn lights. Except for the horses, she found no one.
Mutt was less apt to spook. She bridled him and mounted bareback. Riding the fence line around the entire property, stopping at a gate on the southern end she hadn’t noticed before because it was hidden from the house by a stand of trees. Scanning the dirt with the light, she saw the gate had been opened recently. A pair of bare footprints left the property, headed up a trail.
“Dammit! What the hell does he think he’s doing?”
Disgusted, she turned the gelding toward the barn. The thought of locking the doors and making Steve spend the night outside was tempting, but she didn’t want to wake up to let him in. A few minutes later she was back in bed and drifted to sleep, mostly irritated but a little concerned. Why had Steve wandered into the woods at night?
Without shoes. Or a flashlight.
He’s not a kid. I refuse to treat him like one anymore. If he wants to get lost and spend the night in the woods, that’s his problem.
She wasn’t aware she wrapped her arms around his pillow as she fell asleep.
Chapter Ten
The downstairs phone jolted Sami awake. Steve lightly snored on his side of the bed.
Sami raced downstairs, grabbing the phone on the fifth ring.
“Hello?”
Matt. “Sam? You guys still alive? I’ve been trying your cell, but you didn’t answer.”
She cringed. She’d forgotten to charge it. “I’m sorry. I meant to call you.” Shock replaced her wave of guilt as she glanced at her watch and realized it was nearly eight thirty. She never slept that late.
“How is the house?”
She filled him in on the details, including her irritation at Steve for saddling her with the dirty work. Then she remembered the night before and kept that to herself, wanting an explanation from Steve before venting to Matt. “How’s Pog?”
“You mean this furry rubber ball you call a dog? Jesus, Sam, doesn’t this thing ever
He picked up their plates. “You relax. I’ll do the dishes.”
Sami didn’t argue. She set up their portable stereo and put in a jazz CD to soothe her nerves. Taking her laptop upstairs, she lounged on their bed, listening to the music drift up from below.
When her eyes drooped, she shut the computer off and stretched out. She didn’t know anything else until her eyes flew open, alone in bed, her heart racing, the house dark and silent.
Fumbling for a moment, she found the light button on her watch and realized it was after midnight.
“Steve?”
She shivered as her voice echoed off the bare walls.
She climbed out of bed and made her way down the hall. “Steve? Where are you?”
Downstairs felt empty, too. He’d shut the stereo off. The door to his study stood partially open, light spilling into the hallway from the desk lamp, but his computer sat dark.
No Steve.
She opened the door to the basement and suppressed another shiver. Despite the lights being off she called out, “Steve? Are you down there?”
He wasn’t in the kitchen. She stepped out onto the porch. The truck was nosed into the carport where she’d left it. Across the yard she spotted Mutt and Jeff in the corral, their heads hung in sleep. She walked the porch, circling the house, still no Steve.
She felt watched. As a severe case of the willies overcame her, she fought the urge to run into the house and slam the door behind her.
“Steven Corey, this isn’t very damn funny!”
She realized the Florida sounds she expected—crickets, frogs, whip-poor-wills—were all missing. The woods were deathly silent around her.
Moving slowly and with deliberation to rein in her growing panic, she went to the kitchen, found a flashlight, and slipped on her sneakers. She clicked on the front porch light and walked across the grass toward the barn, stopping at the edge of the light’s reach. The geldings were now awake and watching her.
She turned the flashlight on and crossed the remaining ocean of blackness to the barn. She turned on the barn lights. Except for the horses, she found no one.
Mutt was less apt to spook. She bridled him and mounted bareback. Riding the fence line around the entire property, stopping at a gate on the southern end she hadn’t noticed before because it was hidden from the house by a stand of trees. Scanning the dirt with the light, she saw the gate had been opened recently. A pair of bare footprints left the property, headed up a trail.
“Dammit! What the hell does he think he’s doing?”
Disgusted, she turned the gelding toward the barn. The thought of locking the doors and making Steve spend the night outside was tempting, but she didn’t want to wake up to let him in. A few minutes later she was back in bed and drifted to sleep, mostly irritated but a little concerned. Why had Steve wandered into the woods at night?
Without shoes. Or a flashlight.
He’s not a kid. I refuse to treat him like one anymore. If he wants to get lost and spend the night in the woods, that’s his problem.
She wasn’t aware she wrapped her arms around his pillow as she fell asleep.
Chapter Ten
The downstairs phone jolted Sami awake. Steve lightly snored on his side of the bed.
Sami raced downstairs, grabbing the phone on the fifth ring.
“Hello?”
Matt. “Sam? You guys still alive? I’ve been trying your cell, but you didn’t answer.”
She cringed. She’d forgotten to charge it. “I’m sorry. I meant to call you.” Shock replaced her wave of guilt as she glanced at her watch and realized it was nearly eight thirty. She never slept that late.
“How is the house?”
She filled him in on the details, including her irritation at Steve for saddling her with the dirty work. Then she remembered the night before and kept that to herself, wanting an explanation from Steve before venting to Matt. “How’s Pog?”
“You mean this furry rubber ball you call a dog? Jesus, Sam, doesn’t this thing ever
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