I frown. I’m terrible at this game. We’re on our third round, and while it’s kept the boredom at bay, I’m a nervous wreck.
Still no Scott.
A thunderclap rattles the walls.
Ding jumps up, rushing to the window, barking his lungs out.
“It’s ok—it’s just more thunder.” He doesn’t stop and instead barks more insistently.
“What is it?” I mutter. I walk over and pull away the curtain, peering outside.
Movement.
A man wearing a raincoat stands near some bushes along the driveway. I yelp and drop the curtain. The darkness of the night hid his features, but it has to be him. With my heart in my throat, I open the curtain. Nothing.
“Honey, what is it?”
“Someone’s out there.”
Ms. Connor walks to the pantry and retrieves a shotgun. She walks to the door to put on her raincoat.
“Stop. You can’t go out there. It could be dangerous… what if it’s…”
What if it’s my stalker?
“It’s okay. I’ll be careful. Call the police if anything happens.” She walks out the door, leaving Hannah and me unsure what to do.
“We can’t let her go out there alone. Let’s go.” We brace ourselves and step outside into the storm. The wind slams into me like a wall. Rain pelts us in stinging sheets, and I nearly lose my footing in the mud. Ding walks beside us, barking defiantly into the gale, trying to chase it away. We catch up to Ms. Connor as she’s assessing the ground around the bushes where I spotted the man.
“It’s a man’s footprints. But no man.” Ms. Connor’s voice shakes, and her brows knit tightly together.
“Listen up if you’re out there. If you get near us, I’ll blow you away.” She waves her shotgun. Once we’re satisfied there isn’t anyone still lurking around, we go back inside.
Soaked and shivering, we peel off our raincoats in the kitchen. My fingers are numb, trembling, cold, and my body’s full of adrenaline. We call the police to report the stranger.
There isn’t anything they can do.
Where’s Scott?
We all jump when we hear someone opening the front door.
Wes walks in with his crew. His brows raise and the corner of his mouth turns down after taking one look at us. We’re all huddled together on the couch around the lantern. Our eyes stare back, wide from fear. All three of us exhale in relief.
“What’s going on?”
We fill him in on the Peeping Tom and the evidence we found near the bushes. He goes outside with his men to investigate. A few minutes later, the lights flicker and come back on.
Wes is back. “We got the generator running. It should be okay.” He walks over to the alarm on the wall. “Let’s get this back on.” He fiddles with the alarm and turns back to me.
“I don’t like this. We’ll have to step up the vigilance and monitor this place twenty-four-seven.” He looks around.
“Where’s Scott?”
“We haven’t seen him all day. He said he’d come by, but hasn’t. He’s not answering his phone.”
“I saw him at the marina. He left with Liam about an hour and a half ago. I’m sure he’ll be by soon.”
A sudden knock at the door startles us.
