Don’t make a sound! Don’t let him know you’re here!

Had I engaged the security system? I usually did that just before going upstairs to bed. My eyes slid to the panel.

No flashing red light!

Damn!

Hands shaking badly now, I lifted a corner of the window curtain.

Pitch-black.

My eyes struggled to adjust.

Nothing.

I leaned close to the glass, shot my eyes left, then right, peering through the tiny opening I’d created.

No go.

Turn on the porch light, one rational brain cell suggested.

My hand groped for the switch.

No! Don’t tell him you’re home!

My hand froze.

At that moment the sky flickered. Two silhouettes emerged from the darkness.

Adrenaline rocketed through my body.

The two silhouettes were standing on my back porch, less than two feet from my terrified face.

32

THE FIGURES STOOD FROZEN, TWO BLACK CUTOUTS AGAINST A pitch-black night.

I dropped the curtain and shrank back, heart pounding in my throat.

The Grim Reaper? With an accomplice?

Barely breathing, I stole another peek.

The space between the figures appeared to have shrunk.

The space between the figures and my door appeared to have shrunk.

What to do?

My terrified brain came up with variations on the same suggestions.

Phone 911! Throw on the porch light! Yell through the door!

Boyd’s barking continued, steady but unfrenzied.

The sky flickered, went black.

Was my mind playing tricks, or did the larger silhouette look familiar?

I waited.

More lightning, longer. One, two, three seconds.

Sweet Jesus.

She looked even bulkier than my recollection.

My hand brushed the wall, found the switch. The overhead bulb bathed the porch in amber.

“Hush, Boyd.”

I laid a hand on his head.

“Is that you, Geneva?”

“Don’t be setting no dog on us.”

Reaching down, I grasped Boyd’s collar. Then I unlocked and opened the door.

Geneva had one arm around a young woman I immediately recognized as Tamela, the other thrown up across her face. Both sisters resembled frightened deer, their eyes blinded by the unexpected light.

“Come in.” Still holding the chow’s collar, I pushed open the screen.

Clearance having been granted the callers, Boyd’s barking gave way to tail wagging.

The sisters didn’t budge.

I stepped backward into the kitchen, dragging Boyd with me.

Geneva opened the screen door, nudged Tamela inside, followed.

“He won’t hurt you,” I said.

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