Shirlee McCoy

Stranger in the Shadows


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realization hit as the step at the bottom of the stairs creaked, the telltale sound sending Chloe across the room. She grabbed the phone, dialed 911, her heart racing so fast it felt as though it would burst from her chest.

      Blackness threatened, panic stealing her breath and her oxygen, but Chloe refused to let it have her, forcing herself to breath deeply. To take action.

      She grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen, her gaze on the door, her eyes widening with horror as the old-fashioned glass knob began to turn.

      Chloe clutched the phone in one hand and the knife in the other, praying the lock would hold and wondering if passing out might be better than facing whatever was on the other side of the door.

      Ben Avery bounced a redheaded toddler on his knee, and smiled at his friend, Sheriff Jake Reed, who was cradling a dark-haired infant. “I’m thinking we may be able to go fishing again in twenty-one years.”

      “You’re going next weekend.” Tiffany Reed strode into the room, her red hair falling around her shoulders in wild waves. Three weeks after having her second child, she looked as vivacious and lovely as ever. “Jake needs a break.”

      “From what?” Jake stood, laid the baby in a bassinet and wrapped his arms around his wife. “This is where I want to be.”

      “I know that, but Ben’s made two week’s worth of meals for us. It’s time for you to take him out to thank him.”

      Ben stood, the little girl in his arms giggling as he tickled her belly. “I made the meals because I wanted to. I don’t need any thanks.”

      “Of course you don’t, but you and Jake are still going fishing next weekend. Right, honey?”

      Jake met Ben’s eyes, shrugged and smiled. “I guess we are. What time?”

      Before Ben could reply, Jake’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the number. “Work. I’d better take it.”

      Tiffany pulled her daughter from Ben’s arms, shushing the still-giggling child and carrying her from the room.

      Ben made himself comfortable, settling back onto the sofa and waiting while Jake answered the phone. Whatever was happening couldn’t be good if Jake was being called in.

      “Reed here. Right. Give me the address.” He jotted something down on a piece of paper. “Davidson?”

      At the name, Ben straightened, an image of straight black hair and emerald eyes flashing through his mind.

      “Okay. Keep her on the phone. I’ll be there in ten.” Jake hung up, grabbed a jacket from the closet.

      “You said Davidson?”

      “Yeah. Lady living out on the lake in the Richard’s place is reporting an intruder in the house. My men are tied up at an accident outside of town, so I’m going to take the call.”

      “Did you get a first name?”

      “Chloe.”

      “I’m coming with you.”

      Jake raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, that’s not the way it works.”

      “It is this time. I’ll stay in the squad car until you clear things, but I’m coming.”

      “Since I don’t have time to argue or ask questions, we’ll do it your way.”

      It took only seconds for Jake to say goodbye to his family, but those seconds seemed like a lifetime to Ben, every one of them another opportunity for whoever was in the house with Chloe to harm her. As they climbed into the cruiser and sped toward the lake, Ben could only pray that she’d be safe until he and Jake arrived.

      Sirens sounded in the distance and Chloe backed toward the window that overlooked the front door, her gaze still fixed on the glass knob. It hadn’t turned again, but she was expecting it to and wondering what she’d do if or when the door crashed open.

      “Chloe? Are you still there?” The woman on the other end of the line sounded as scared as Chloe felt.

      “Yes.” She glanced out the window, saw a police cruiser pull up to the house, lights flashing, sirens blaring. “The police are here. I’m going to hang up.”

      “Don’t—”

      But Chloe was already disconnecting, tossing the phone and knife onto the couch and hurrying toward the door. The stairs creaked, footsteps pounded on wooden steps and a fist slammed against the door. “Ms. Davidson? Sheriff Jake Reed. Are you okay?”

      “Fine.” She pulled the door open, stepping back as a tall, hard-faced man strode in, a gun in his hand.

      “Good. I’m going to escort you to my car. I want you to stay there until I’m finished in here.”

      “Finished?”

      “Making sure whoever was here isn’t still hanging around.”

      Still hanging around?

      Chloe didn’t like the sound of that and hurried down the stairs and outside, the crisp fall air making her shiver. Or maybe it was fear that had her shaking.

      “I won’t be long. Stay in the car until I come back out. I don’t want to mistake you for the intruder.”

      “And I don’t want to be out here alone.” She might not like the idea of someone being in the house, but she liked the idea of staying outside by herself even less.

      “Then it’s good you don’t have to be.” As he spoke a figure stepped out of the cruiser. Tall, broad-shouldered and moving with lithe and silent grace.

      Chloe knew who it was immediately, her visceral response announcing his name, her betraying heart leaping in acknowledgement. “Ben, what are you doing here?”

      “How about we discuss it in the cruiser?” He wrapped an arm around her waist and hurried her down the steps. Strong, solid, dependable in a way Adam had never been. The comparison didn’t sit well with Chloe. Noticing how different Ben was from the man she’d once loved was something she shouldn’t be doing.

      “Climb in.” He held the cruiser door open for her, then slid in himself, his knee nudging her leg, his arm brushing hers.

      She scooted back against the door, doing her best to ignore the scent of pine needles and soap that drifted on the air, but he leaned in close, his jaw tight, his face much harder than it had seemed earlier. “Are you okay?”

      “Just scared.”

      “Jake said someone was inside the house with you. Did he make it into your apartment?”

      “No, but it looked like he was trying to get in.” She shuddered, watching as the lights in the attic area of the Victorian flicked on.

      “Did you see the person?”

      “I saw something before I went in the house, but if it was a person, I couldn’t tell. There was no way I was going to open the apartment door to take a look.”

      “I’m glad you didn’t. That would have been a bad idea.” The porch light flicked off, then on again, and Ben pushed open the car door. “That’s Jake’s all clear. Ready to go back inside?”

      “Of course.” But she wasn’t really. Sitting in the car with Ben seemed a lot safer than stepping back into the darkness.

      He rounded the car, pulled open her door and offered a hand. “It’ll be okay, Chloe. Whoever it was is long gone.”

      Chloe nodded, not trusting herself to speak, afraid anything she said would be filled with the panic and paranoia that had chased her from D.C. Nightmares. Terror. The feeling of being watched, of being stalked. She’d been plagued with all of them since being released from the hospital nine months ago. Post-traumatic stress. That’s what the doctors said. That’s what the police said. Given enough time, Ben and Jake would probably say the same.

      She