He barked again and returned to his bowl, sniffed, and lay down. So what if he was acting off? Because he’d grown so comfortable so fast, she and Noah sometimes forgot that he’d only been rescued a month ago after being terribly abused.
“Go ahead and be weird. You’ve earned the right,” she told the dog. He gave her a twitch of his tail.
Her phone rang, and up popped an unknown number with a Western Slope area code. While she expected follow-ups about the county’s ongoing investigation, they wouldn’t call after regular business hours, so she let it go to voicemail while she cleaned up her leftovers. Pouring herself a hefty glass of wine, she sat on the couch and started up the voicemail. The familiar voice decalcified her spine. She set the glass on the coffee table before she could drop it, and it wobbled in place and nearly tipped over.
“I know you’re there, you little bitch,” Cliff’s gravelly voice slurred. “Pick up the goddamn phone so I can tell you how thoroughly you’ve fucked up my life.” He marched through a string of vulgar names, some decipherable and others not. She hit pause, panic constricting her chest and throat. Should she keep listening? Should she call Noah? Charlie? Reece? Each one was busy; besides, they couldn’t help her from where they were.
Chance slid his head onto her lap and whimpered. Then he ran to the door again and barked. Fear paralyzed her, then grabbed hold and shook her. Hard.
Think, Hailey, think!
Shane. She’d call Shane, but he’d want to know everything that was said, so she swallowed down her fright and hit the play arrow again. Chance returned to her side and watched her with worried brown eyes.
Cliff ranted on, calling her more disgusting names, droning on about how she’d ruined his career, his reputation, his future. The voicemail ended with a chilling warning: “I know where you’re hiding, and I’m coming for you. I’ll see you real soon.” His closing cackle made the small hairs on her arms stand up like fine needles.
It took her scrambled brain a moment to locate Shane’s number in her contacts, and her fingers trembled so fiercely she poked at a different number, disconnected, and tried again.
His phone rang … and rang … and rang … and clicked on.
“Shane?” she screeched. “Is that you?”Please don’t be his voicemail.
“Yeah, Hailey, I’m here. What’s going on?” Noise in the background had her picturing him in a honky-tonk, sipping from a longneck.
In a maddeningly quavery voice, she told him about the call.
His voice was as calm as hers was shaky. “Text me the number, and I’ll see if we can pinpoint him. Hang tight, okay?”
“Th-thank you.” She sent him the number and waited with her hands trapped between her thighs to keep from chewing her nails to the quick. Chance trotted between her and the door, squeaking as he went. The burger in her stomach flipped over.
After what seemed hours, Shane’s number lit up her screen. “Yes?” she croaked.
“He’s nowhere near you, Hailey. That number pinged from five hours away, southeast of Vail.”
She gusted out a lungful of relieved air. “Oh, thank God! So you don’t think he knows where I am?”And that he’s getting ready to murder me?
“Doubtful. He’s just a drunk asshole who wants to shake you up. I’ll come by and see you tomorrow. I’m gonna want to listen to that voicemail in person. I’ll text Reece and have him drive by when he’s done with his shift, yeah? I’d do it, but it’s my night off, and I’m in Ouray, and uh …”
You’re planning on getting lucky tonight.“No worries. I’m sorry I cut into your free time—I owe you. I really appreciate all you’ve done.”
“Did I put your mind at ease?” A hopeful grin came through in his voice. God, he was sweet—though he didn’t do a thing for her.
“You did, thanks. What time does Reece get off?”
“Eleven. Don’t worry, though. He won’t bother you. He’ll just have a little look-see. Meanwhile, relax and get some sleep. You’re safe.”
“Thanks, Shane.”
After an hour, Hailey’s tummy had finally settled enough that she could throw back a handful of M&Ms. Chance had licked his bowl clean and was now velcroed to her side. She slid him the side-eye. “I guess being scared shitless makes a body hungry, huh, boy?”
She finished off her wine, and her limbs suddenly turned heavy, rubbery.
“I’m skipping the bath,” she told Chance, who let out an odd series of frantic yelps. “God, I hope you don’t keep this up all night, or I’ll be a zombie. I’m letting you out one last time and crawling between the sheets.”
She pulled on her boots and coat while he pawed at the door. “Hang on to your doggie pants.”
He didn’t hang on to his doggie pants, streaking out the door and down the stairs to the back door, where he yipped and barked and hopped in place. Hailey’s leaden legs carried her down a step at a time. As she closed in on the bottom stair, an acrid smell hit her full force—and that’s when she noticed a haze hanging by the back entrance.
Her inner alarms blared, and instinct took over. She unbolted and threw open the back door in one swift move. Smoke poured in. Chance bolted through the curtain of gray into the parking lot. Hailey tucked her mouth and nose against her arm and took off after him. When he disappeared into the trees ringing the lot, she screeched to a halt and pivoted. Flames licked a mound of trash and wadded paper strewn across the threshold. The fire wasn’t big yet, but it had ignited the wooden door—a perfect source of fuel. The stinging smoke cleared for an instant, revealing a plastic gas can with its protruding spout open. She froze in place.
