Charlotte dove for the trophy. Holding the top, she swung the base at the window. Her wrist barked with pain as the marble tore from the trophy and bounced toward her head.
She yelped and ducked to avoid being knocked unconscious. The chunk of polished stone flew past Abby and rolled across the ground to come to rest against the door.
Charlotte looked at the broken piece of plastic in her hand.
Junky piece of—
Oh no.
She hadn’t been truly worried until that moment.
I have impact-resistant windows.
‘Strong enough to stop a bullet,’ the salesman had bragged. At the time, that seemed like a good idea for keeping things from breaking in.
Stupid hurricanes!
Breaking the glass wouldn’t be easy. She had to try and open them again.
Finding leverage, Charlotte strained against the window until her breath left her.
Falling back against the bed, she squeezed her hands into fists and threw back her head to scream.
“Why?”
Abby jumped up and frantically licked her face. She pulled the dog to her, mumbling against her soft ear.
“I’ll get us out, sweetie. Don’t worry. I’ll wrap us in wet towels and we’ll run—”
Something banged on the window she’d been trying to open and she sprang to her feet.
“Charlotte!”
She knew that voice.
Declan!
She ran to place her hands on the glass, screaming. “The windows are stuck!”
Declan ran to the front door and disappeared inside.
That meant he could get into the living room. Maybe he could make it to the kitchen.
I have a fire extinguisher under the kitchen sink.
They’d never sat around discussing fire safety.
Does he know I have a fire extinguisher?
She ran to the door hoping to scream the information to him, but found the knob warm to the touch. Terrified to open it, she screamed as loud as she could.
“Under the kitchen sink!”
She hadn’t looked at that extinguisher in years. They’d be lucky if it still worked.
Still trying to work out how old the extinguisher might be, her ears picked up the whooshing noise fire extinguishers made in movies.
He found it!
She jerked the towel from under the door and took a few steps back to wrap her arms around Abby’s barrel chest.
From the opposite side of the door she heard Declan scream.
“I’m coming through!”
He sounded close.
Charlotte jerked the dog off the bed as the door burst open and bounced on the opposite wall.
“Don’t touch the knob, it’s hot.” Declan stepped into the room, appearing from a cloud of smoke like a rock god.
Charlotte felt her eyes fill with tears, unsure if they’d been spawned by irritation or relief. She guessed a little of both.
She smiled, feeling shaky. “Am I glad to see you.”
Deep in an all-business mode she’d seen him adopt only once or twice before, Declan declined to share one of his reassuring smiles. Instead, he looked down at her bare feet and held out his arms. “Fire’s out but the hall’s full of embers. Put on shoes. Give me Abby.”
She handed over the dog and Declan disappeared into the wall of smoke. Before she could slip into her second sneaker, he returned. Without a word, he scooped her into his arms.
“Whoop!” she yelped, caught off guard.
He carried her over the smoldering pile of clothes and into the front yard as the fire truck pulled up. Mariska and Bob stood in her driveway, Bob holding Abby by her collar.
Declan set Charlotte on her feet and she put a hand against him to steady herself. Her legs felt weak. For the first time she noticed he wore running clothes, his red tank singed and blackened with soot.
“Thank you,” she said.
Declan took a deep breath and hugged her to him. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I woke up to a burning pile of clothes in the hallway blocking my way. The windows were painted shut.”
Declan shook his head. “Not painted. Nailed.”
She pulled out of his embrace to gawk at him. “What?”
“Someone nailed them shut.”
“When?” she said, even as it occurred to her it could have been any time. She never opened her bedroom windows, preferring more reliable air-conditioning.
Mariska threw her arms around her neck. “Oh, Charlotte, I was so scared.”
“What happened?” asked Bob.
Charlotte let Mariska finish her hug and then wiped at her own irritated, weeping eyes. “There was a pile of burning clothes outside my bedroom door.”
Mariska’s eyes popped wide. “Your laundry caught fire?”
Charlotte laughed. “They weren’t my clothes. I don’t think someone could have emptied my drawers without Abby waking up.”
“But they were able to set the fire without her waking up,” grumbled Bob, looking down at the dog. Abby yawned and slid down to the ground, tongue lolling. She didn’t seem concerned over the prospect of losing her job for poor performance.
Charlotte found herself overwhelmed with love for the dog she’d been almost unable to save and squatted to press Abby’s head against her own. “We’re going to have to talk about your watch dog skills, missy.”
“I don’t understand. Where did the clothes come from?” asked Mariska.
Declan brushed soot off his nose and mumbled his answer. “Someone tried to kill her.”
“Us,” corrected Charlotte.
He nodded. “Or they saw me leave.”
“Where did you go?”
“I couldn’t sleep and went for a run. I never dreamed—”
Their neighbor and local fire chief, ‘Mac’ MacBrady, strode over and took off his helmet. “Well, that was exciting.”
“Please tell me you didn’t fill my house with water,” said Charlotte.
Mac took off his hat. “We raked out the clothes. Looks like someone put out the main fire before we had to sic the big hoses on it.”
“That would be the guy with only one leg of hair,” said Charlotte. From her position squatting
