The back of her neck tingled and the sensation quickly crept down her arms. Shivering, and not just from the cold, she panned her light around the yard, but the tool slipped in her suddenly damp grip. Swiftly wiping her palms against her thighs, she took up the flashlight and started again, noting that the beam quivered ever so slightly.
Something was wrong and because of the uncomfortable tingles racing along her back, she’d swear she was being watched.
Gravel crunched somewhere to her left and she spun toward the sound. Her light arced over the driveway and she squinted into the darkness beyond its reach, but she saw nothing.
Another sound came from behind her and she swung around again. She dashed to the open strip between the barn and machine shed, her flashlight revealing assorted piles of old wood, metal, and other items she couldn’t name. But she saw nothing to explain the noise she’d heard.
Something rustled in the grass on the far side of the machine shed. Determined to discover the cause, she jogged over and again, she found nothing.
Standing in the center of the dooryard, peering into shadows, she clamped down on her quivering insides. She didn’t believe in ghosts or monsters—other than the human kind—but she’d heard something.
It could have been anything, she thought, feeling foolish for the jittery panic that threatened her calm, logical thought. Deer might be out here walking through the grass, for all I know. Or maybe coyotes… That thought didn’t make her feel any better.
A metallic sound bounced along the drive to her yard.
She whirled toward it.
Nothing.
Her eyes darted from one dark shadow to another as she wrapped her free arm around her middle. A sinking feeling settled over her and the need to run was almost overwhelming.
“There’s nothing there,” she whispered to herself, willing her trembling limbs to steady. “It’s just the wind…or an animal. Nothing to fear.”
But there was no wind. The fall storms had come and gone already, and the air was quiet and still tonight.
Another soft sound came from the far side of the barn. Then another from the other side of the machine shed. A flash of something shiny glinted along the drive, something else rustled loudly in the grass, gravel crackled, what sounded like a metal can skipped toward her over the dirt.
Her heart thudded loudly in her ears and her knees went weak. Someone had thrown that can at her. It didn’t roll like a breeze had caught it or an animal had tripped over it. The small, rusty can had sailed out of the darkness to come to a stop no more than three feet from her.
All of the sounds stopped as she glanced up, flashing her light back and forth.
“Whoever is out there, you need to go home before I call the police,” she said, surprised that her voice had remained steady.
Silence.
“I mean what I say,” she said, though her voice faltered. The words barely slipped past the knot of fear in her throat. “Go home and don’t come back. This is not funny.”
Silence.
Good, she thought, then waited a few more seconds before she returned to the house. Her legs felt a little shaky, but she was proud to have stood her ground on her own. But still, that itchy feeling of being watched hadn’t left, making her want to look over her shoulder.
A loud thump emanated from the barn. Her breath halted as did her feet, and she glanced back. Something moved in the shadows. Nothing she could see clearly, but she definitely sensed danger.
“Go home, bitch…” a voice whispered out of the darkness.
“Get out…” another echoed from her other side.
“You don’t belong…” a third murmured from behind her.
They grated along her taut nerve endings, scraping away her last semblance of strength. The animosity in those voices was palpable.
All at once, the noises started up again and she jumped. The flashlight dropped from her suddenly nerveless fingers and she forced her trembling legs to run back to the house. She rushed inside and slammed the door behind her. Throwing the little used bolt lock, she leaned back against it and slid to the floor.
A moment later, she rushed to her feet, flipped on the porch light, and went to the window to peek outside.
Nothing.
She could just barely see her flashlight on the ground where she’d dropped it, but nothing else. No animals milling in the yard. No people threatening to break down her door. Nothing.
She heaved a sigh and flopped onto the couch. Maybe she’d just been hearing things. Though that metal can soaring toward her had been real enough. Still, it didn’t make any sense. She’d never had anything like this happen before.
It’s over now, she told herself. Whatever it was, whatever she’d thought she heard, was gone.
As her adrenaline faded, her shaking abated and exhaustion returned. She could barely keep her eyes open, and the longer she sat there, the more unreal the experience had seemed.
“I’ll call them in the morning,” she mumbled, too tired to think about talking to the police tonight. Cade was still recovering, but Zack slept in her other guest room. If anything else happened, she’d wake him.
Getting to her feet, she shuffled to her room, tossed off her extra clothes, and climbed into bed. She didn’t think she could sleep, but she had to try. Tomorrow would be another long day, even without talking to the police, and she was so damn tired. Yawning, she turned onto her side and stared at the wall for some time, expecting the worst, until her lids grew too heavy to keep open. Slowly, she drifted into dreams of a monster chasing after her and Cade coming to her rescue.
Chapter 22
Addie stood, staring dumbfounded at the shelf beside the door to the mudroom. Her body flushed hot and cold as her mind swirled with confusion and doubt. There,
