Maverick snarled, staring hard at the door. His fur stood up as he bristled with anger.
She watched as the doorknob began to turn. “He’s trying to get into the bathroom,” she whispered.
Maverick stepped closer to the door, guarding it with his body, and making it clear to MJ that he’d stand and fight to protect her.
“Hold it right there!” she heard a male voice yell. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her heart hammered hard in her chest, and it was difficult to catch her breath.
“Put your hands on your head.”
She heard a thump, as a body hit the wall right outside the door. God, she hoped it was the intruder being captured.
“Ma’am, are you all right?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“You can hang up now,” said the 911 operator.
Tears rolled down her face, as she clicked off the phone. The alarm still blared.
“Stay there. Don’t come out yet,” the male police officer said.
She heard rustling just outside the door and what sounded like a click. Handcuffs?
“Take him outside,” the voice said. There was a pause. “Ma’am? You can come out now. I’m Officer Ryan from the Ridgeview Police Department. We have the suspect in custody. It’s safe.”
She grabbed onto Maverick, worried he’d see the police as a threat. “Okay. I’m coming out now. Please step back. My dog’s upset, and he’s a Marine K-9 service dog. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She petted his head. “Va bene, Maverick.” She reached for the door handle, unlocked, and slowly turned it.
Maverick lunged forward, but she held onto him. “Va bene, Maverick.”
“It’s okay, ma’am.” The young police office looked intimidated by the Malinois. He retreated several steps, obviously wary. “Have you got him?”
“Yes. He’ll be fine. “Maverick, sit. Calma.”
The dog dropped into a sit, and relaxed a bit, although he was still watchful.
“He’s a good guard dog,” said Officer Ryan.
“Yes. He’s the best, although I never thought I’d need him to protect me.”
“Can you turn off the alarm?”
“Yes.” She walked to the front hallway, her steps shadowed by both the dog and the police officer. She tapped in her code and the alarm quieted. “Whew. That’s a relief,” she said into the sudden silence. Her heart still pounded, but she felt better now that the noise had stopped.
She heard the squeal of tires, and a few moments later her brother rushed through the front door. “MJ! Are you okay?”
She fell into his arms, and tears filled her eyes. “Nick, how did you know?”
“Rob called me from Knoxville. He said the alarm went off. That someone got inside the house. He figured I could get here before he could.”
She sobbed as he rubbed her back. “I called 9-1-1. The police caught him right outside the bathroom door, but Maverick would have protected me.”
“Damn it, he shouldn’t have to. God, I’m so glad you’re okay. I thought I’d lose my mind getting here. If something happened to you…” He buried his face in her hair. “Jesus, MJ. I was so scared I wouldn’t get here in time.”
“She’s fine. Smart woman. She locked herself in the bathroom and had the dog with her. He was ready to protect her,” Officer Ryan offered.
“Hey, Bill,” Nick said as he recognized the officer. “This is my sister, Mary Jane. She goes by MJ.” He reached out and shook the man’s hand. “Thanks for getting here in time.”
“No problem, Nick. That’s why we’re here. I’m not sure what this guy wanted, but he was obviously a threat. I need to take your sister’s statement, and then we’ll take him down and book him.”
“Okay if she gets dressed first?” Nick asked.
“Sure, no problem,” said Officer Ryan.
“Why don’t we wait for her in the kitchen. I’ll put on some coffee for us all.” Nick led the officer into the kitchen, followed closely by Maverick.
MJ turned to the bedroom to put on yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She shuddered, chill bumps rising on her arms as she thought about her close call. She sniffled. Would she ever feel safe again?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rob entered the front door of VA Outpatient Clinic and looked around for the meeting room for the PTSD Support Group. He felt apprehensive, but he knew this was his next step in recovery. Would he be able to talk about his demons in front of a bunch of strangers? Members of the armed services, no matter what branch, didn’t admit to weakness, and as far as he knew, PTSD showed a big-time weakness. His mind had betrayed him and left him feeling like a vulnerable kid, not a seasoned Marine, a gunnery sergeant.
He followed several guys into a large room filled with chairs arranged in a horseshoe. Some men sat in a bunch of the chairs while others stood at a table in the back of the room, helping themselves to coffee. He walked over, grabbed a cup, and filled it up. If this turned out to be terrible, at least he’d have something to hold. He nodded to the guy in front of him and got a chin raise.
An older man at the front of the room cleared his throat and yelled above the buzz of multiple conversations. “Time to call this meeting to order. Please take a seat so we can get started.”
Rob headed toward a chair at the base of the horseshoe, close to the left wall. He felt his stomach vibrate with nerves. Here goes nothing.
“Welcome, veterans. This is the PTSD Support Group, and I’m Joe Glentree, the leader this quarter. I’m a Vietnam vet. Army. I was in Nam during the Tet offensive. I survived that hellhole, but I
