gone past the point of no return now. Taking a breath, he leaned over with painstaking slowness and pushed his head into the doorway.
As promised and suspected, he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Even as he entered the doorway, his eyes focused on her, she made a nearly imperceptible correction, keeping them right in her sights. He had the feeling she had every intention of putting a bullet straight between them if he looked at her funny.
He did his best to ignore the gun, no easy feat, and met the steady gaze behind it. This was his neighbor, all right. His first impression was that he’d been right. She was pretty, even more than he’d expected. She had soft features, her face full and round, probably more than usual due to her condition. Not a classic beauty, but definitely attractive.
There was nothing soft about her expression. Dark brown eyes met his, unblinking.
The hands that held the gun were steady, as unwavering as her stare. She might be on edge, but there was no doubt she knew exactly what she was doing, and was ready to do whatever else she thought she had to.
“Hi,” he said lamely. “We haven’t officially been introduced. I’m Jake Armstrong. I moved into the house next door last month. I just came over to make sure you’re okay.”
Her gaze raked over his face, as though scrutinizing every inch for any sign he wasn’t who he said he was or who he appeared to be. He waited, hoping to high hell he passed her inspection.
Finally, just when he was about to coax her to do just that, she lowered the gun. Not entirely. No more than a few inches really. Her finger didn’t release the trigger, leaving the impression she was prepared to jerk the weapon back up and fire at the slightest provocation.
Still, it was a start.
Her expression didn’t relax, either. Her gaze narrowed, slowly traveling down the length of him and back again. She gave a small nod, as though satisfied. “You’re not one of them.”
“Who?”
“The people who broke in to my house. You’re too big.”
Not the first time he’d heard that one. “Who was it? What did they want?”
“I don’t know.”
A troubled note entered her voice, and the hard lines of her expression softened slightly, betraying the first hint of the fear she must have been feeling. She eased her left hand off her weapon and moved it onto the swell of her belly, as though reassuring herself it was still there, still safe.
His eyes tracked the gesture, a feeling of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. The obvious answer would have been robbery. That she hadn’t said so must mean she believed it was something else. Something related to her baby, judging from the way her hand clutched her stomach.
Why would someone break in to her house because of her baby?
A few answers came to mind, none of them good.
And he had to wonder just what would have happened here if she hadn’t had that gun.
Chapter Two
“I’m telling you, I was not dreaming.”
Sara did her best to fight her rising impatience, but was still unable to keep the aggravation completely out of her tone.
The police officer who’d finally responded to her neighbor’s 9-1-1 call gave her that condescending look that was the cause of most of her irritation. Then he opened his mouth and delivered the source of the rest of it.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Carson, but like I said, we checked the whole house and weren’t able to find any signs that anyone else was here. There’s no indication the door was tampered with, no footprints inside or outside the house. No blood or any other reason to believe you shot anybody.”
“They ducked and ran,” she said for what seemed like the millionth time.
The officer—Dawson, she recalled him introducing himself—didn’t even acknowledge the interruption. “None of your neighbors saw anything, and you say nothing was taken.”
“That’s because I scared them off before they had the chance,” she returned. “Not that I think they were here to steal anything.”
“Right,” he said on a sigh. “The needle. Are you sure that’s what you saw? If the lights were off, in the dark…”
“It was shiny, and they said ‘This won’t hurt.’ It was a needle.”
“Do you know of any reason why someone might break in and try to harm you or your baby?”
“No.”
“Who else has a key?”
“No one.”
“And you’re sure you locked the back door before you went to bed?”
“Yes.”
The officer sighed again. “Ms. Carson, you said you haven’t been sleeping well. A woman living alone, in your condition, it’s understandable you might have a bad dream, or think you see something that isn’t there—”
“I’m pregnant, not deranged.”
His eyebrows went up and his gaze slid away, an expression that clearly said “Is there a difference?” She hadn’t missed the wedding ring on his finger and wondered briefly if he had kids. If so, she hoped he’d been more empathetic to his wife than he was being with her. Or maybe that experience was the cause of his current attitude.
Sara shot a glance at the other officer standing in the living-room doorway. He had a small smirk on his face, with slightly more impatience. She wouldn’t be getting any help from him.
She returned her attention to Dawson. “I know what happened,” she said stubbornly.
“I know you believe that. We just have to go by the evidence.”
“So you’re not going to do anything?”
Dawson held out his hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m not sure what I can do. Even if there was somebody here, we don’t have any way of tracking them down unless there’s something else you’re not telling me.”
Even if there was, what was the point? It wasn’t as if what she had told him had done her any good. “There’s not.”
“Look at it this way. If somebody did break in, they probably won’t be coming back. I’d say you did a darn good job scaring them off. They won’t want to mess with you again.”
“I guess,” she muttered, unconvinced for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, but which scared her all the same.
“Tell you what. I’ll have somebody drive by a couple times the rest of the night, just to make sure everything looks okay.”
There was a definite note of finality in his tone. Even as he said it, he was rising from his seat. Clearly they’d wasted enough time on the delusional pregnant woman.
“Fine,” she said begrudgingly. She didn’t bother to rise with him. They’d be able to make it to the next county by the time she hoisted herself from the chair.
Touching the brim of his hat, he offered one last “Ma’am” and headed to the door, following the other officer out.
As soon as they were gone, Sara wiped a hand over her face and released the frustrated breath she’d been holding. She knew she hadn’t imagined what had happened. Someone had broken in to her home, someone who’d intended to harm her. There just didn’t seem to be any way to prove it.
Which meant she was on her own to figure out what to do now. Not that that was anything new.
A soft tap against the door frame startled her. Her eyes flew to the entryway, her heart in her throat. Her neighbor stood there, the sight instantly reassuring. Jake, he’d said his name was.