Kaitlan huddled on the edge of the bed in the Jensons’ front-corner guest room. Right hand pressed against the wall, she leaned forward to peer through the window. Every back muscle strained, her shoulders and neck like granite. The last dregs of light from a lamp post down the street oozed onto the sill in a sickly puddle.
From the entryway a massive grandfather clock’s fretting tick tock hammered out the seconds.
Where was Craig?
Kaitlan struggled to figure how much time had passed since he left. Seemed like an eternity. But it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes. Maybe less.
How long did it take to dispose of a body? Would he weight her down in the ocean or bay? Bury her deep in the woods?
Kaitlan breathed against the window and the glass fogged. She pulled back.
Maybe her grandfather was wrong. Craig was in bed asleep, the victim’s body long ago hidden. He didn’t want to kill Kaitlan at all. But now her disappearance would force his hand.
A yowl rose outside the window.
Kaitlan froze.
A second wail pierced the night, mixing pain and anger and defilement. The sound sawed through Kaitlan’s nerves.
At the third cry she recognized the sound. Cat/i>.
Kaitlan sucked in air, trying to still her shaking limbs.
Long moments passed. Time filled only with the sound of her own breathing, the tick of the clock. Outside—no approaching car. Just echoing, mocking blackness.
Kaitlan tilted her wrist up near the window, trying to check her watch. How long had she been waiting?
The light was too dim to see.
She dropped her hand—and sudden anger welled within her. After all her struggles to overcome her addiction and make a life for herself. Now that she had a baby to think about—this happened. It wasn’t fair. And she was not going to let it get the best of her.
Headlights spilled down the street.
Kaitlan jerked up straight. She listed toward the window, eyes glued to the road, waiting to see the car.
A realization punched her in the gut. She’d forgotten to ask Margaret what she drove.
The ghostly form of a vehicle materialized out of the dimness.
Kaitlan grabbed the window sill, willing the car to stop, her muscles tensed to sprint for the front door.
At the edge of the Jensons’ property line it slowed.
Margaret! Kaitlan rocketed to her feet.
As she turned to run a sound registered. The rumble of an engine. Far too loud.
Kaitlan stilled. Looked back.
The car passed her window into shadows beyond the street lamp. It was a dark-colored Mustang.