Hot Target

As she made her way through the country-style, multi storied house, Katie wished she had asked where the closest bathroom could be found. There were rooms upstairs, rooms downstairs, rooms on the main level. She was left guessing which way would be the right way, and she decided up seemed likely.

Upstairs was dark but that didn’t deter Katie. The compact purse she had strapped across her chest had a cell phone and a small handgun. Not that she would readily consider whipping out a weapon, here or anywhere for that matter, but it was comforting to know it was resting by her side, ready for use.

As her eyes adjusted, she began checking several doorways, including that of a spare bathroom, finding no sign of Libby. She was about to switch directions when a shattering sound echoed through the silence, seeming to come from the door at the end of the hallway. Following the noise, her hand instinctively on her purse, Katie pursued the sound down the corridor and entered a massive bedroom, with fancy antique-looking furniture and expensive paintings. A quick scan indicated she was alone, so Katie proceeded toward the entrance to the bathroom.

Peering cautiously through the doorway, she found flower buds among broken glass in the middle of the black-tiled floor. Glass chunks had splattered around the room in a wide enough range to indicate the vase had hit the ground hard, clearly thrown. At least, that was Katie’s best guess. Seemed a good indicator that Libby had been here, considering her volatile departure from the backyard.

Whoever was responsible had exited the door on the opposite side of the room, through a second door that appeared to join a smaller room lined with bookcases. Katie had walked toward the vase, intending to pick it up so no one would get hurt, when the door slammed behind her. She jumped and whirled toward the door. Reaching for the knob and pulling, she found it was locked. Her eyes went to the lock. It was on the inside. That meant someone had jammed the door from the outside.

She leaned against the door trying to think, keeping the opposite entrance in sight. She considered calling Luke’s cell, but she didn’t want him to freak out and somehow alert people of a problem that could snowball into telling them all about his stalker.

This had to be Libby. The woman didn’t have much concept of public appropriateness, and she was possibly still hung up on Luke. It meant she probably felt threatened by Katie. The idea of Libby writing those letters was easy to conceive.

A loud thump hit the door directly behind her, making her jump and whirl to face the sound. Immediately she looked over her shoulder at the other door, and called, “Who’s there? Libby? Libby, I wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”

A long silence.

She leaned against the wall, trying to keep both entrances in sight, looking from one to the other, nerves jumping around in her stomach.

Libby, or someone else, was outside one of the doors—but which one?

The silence ended with a hushed whisper that wasn’t clearly male or female. “Go away, bitch. We don’t like you here.”

Goose bumps surfaced on her skin. There was something about the presence…a real darkness that didn’t quite fit Libby. Whoever this was didn’t play games.

Willing herself to get a grip, she took a deep, calming breath. Okay, that was it. She unzipped her purse and had snagged her cell phone when Luke’s voice lifted in the air. “Katie?”

In a flash of movement, she was pounding on the wooden surface, calling his name. “Luke! In here! I’m in here!”

“What in the hell?” she heard him mutter, feeling relief just hearing his voice again, knowing he had heard her. “Katie?”

“Yeah,” she called through the door, trying to sound calm. “Get me the hell out of here, will you?”

Moments later the door opened, and Katie launched herself at the opening. Luke caught her arms, facing her. “What’s going on?”

She looked over his shoulder. “Did you see anyone when you came down the hall?”

Concern etched his features. “No one,” he said. “When Libby returned and you didn’t, I came looking for you. Someone stuck a hanger in the lock of the door. What happened?”

“Was anyone else missing from the backyard?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

She pressed her hand to her head, trying to think of anything of use. “I don’t know what happened exactly. Someone locked me inside. They told me to get away and stay away. The question is—do they want me gone because I’m supposed to be dating you or because they know who I really am? And before you ask, no, I didn’t recognize the voice. It was muffled.”

“Male or female?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

He pulled her close and kissed her. When he stopped, he looked into her eyes. “Katie. I never meant to put you in danger.” He seemed shaken. “What if I am putting other people in danger? What if… Maybe I shouldn’t be traveling with the team.”