Not the secretive way she'd drawn the shade. It was nighttime; I should close my own shades more often. But why draw a third-floor shade at all? Who was going to see anything unless they had a fire ladder or had learned to fly?
What was she doing up there anyway? Why have an office lit by candles? That was the quickest way to ruin your eyes short of poking them with a stick.
I shook my head. Not my business. Grace had always been a little different, which was why I'd liked her.
I drove past the turn to the lake. All the show lights had gone dark; the place seemed deserted. Had Malachi returned? Where had he gone in the first place?
My car trailed down the streets of Lake Bluff. Any other week but this and we'd have rolled up the sidewalks before the sun set. But during the Full Moon Festival, people strolled around until midnight or later.
The ice-cream shop was open, as were the candy store and the cafe. Couples walked arm in arm eating out of bags of popcorn bought from the brightly lit wagon in the town square. Kids raced across the grass chasing fireflies. A mother pushing a baby stroller window-shopped as she slowly ate an ice-cream cone.
I caught sight of one of Grace's employees and a few rent-a-cops loitering on the street corners. Everything appeared to be under control. I only hoped the noise and the lights and the food - the popcorn and the ice cream as well as the people - didn't attract a wolf.
Since there was nothing I could do about it short of ordering the streets cleared and the doors sealed from the outside, I took comfort from the fact that Grace knew her job, knew what we were up against, and she'd no doubt warned her people.
When I saw two additional guards at the end of Center Street patrolling the small open space between the town and the trees with rifles, I pointed my car toward home. Everything had been done that could be done for now.
Seconds later I turned into my driveway. My house did not look inviting. Since I'd forgotten to turn on a light, it looked downright hostile.
I parked the car in the carport, then sprinted for the door, hoping I'd be able to get it open before my headlights timed out.
I'd just removed my keys from my pocket when the lights went off with a dull thunk. The streetlights didn't penetrate very well up the hill and around the bend; clouds had drifted over the moon. I heard the distant trill of laughter, the slam of a door, but that only served to remind me of how alone I was.
My car's engine made the usual clicking, settling noises that should have been reassuring but weren't. For some reason they sounded like footsteps.
I was being foolish. I knew it, yet my hand still shook as I tried to shove the key into the lock. I dropped the key ring onto the ground, the loud clash against the pavement making me jump, even though I'd been the one to drop the thing in the first place.
With an annoyed sigh, I bent, retrieved the keys, and thrust one into the lock. My front door swung open on more darkness; in the center two glowing yellow eyes made my breath catch before the vicious hiss made me snap, "Oprah! What's the matter with you?"
The slight scrape of something hard against pavement - a shoe or a claw - had me spinning. In that instant before my eyes caught up to my mind, I knew the wolf was behind me, poised to spring and tear out my throat.
Too bad I was wrong.
Chapter 19
"Claire. "
Josh Logan stepped closer, and the moon chose that moment to reappear, bathing his handsome face in silver. He looked more like a bloodsucker now than he had in my dreams.
"I've been waiting for you. "
I glanced into the house, wondering if I could dive inside and slam the door. But that would be childish.
Oh well.
I made it into the foyer, even got the door nearly closed, before he grabbed it. Josh had always moved quicker than spit.
"What's the matter with you?" He followed me in.
I backed up, not wanting to remain in grabbing distance. Calmly he closed and locked the door behind him, then flicked on the lights.
He appeared exactly the same as he had the last time I'd seen him, but then, I doubted he'd lost as much sleep over the incident as I had.
Young, blond, buff, Josh was the darling of Atlanta.
Born in Washington, D. C. , which ought be the South geographically but was a far cry from Earth technically, his father was a congressman who'd once been a lawyer. Hadn't they all? Josh's mother was a lawyer who'd become a lobbyist. So had his sister.
Josh was the bright light and shining hope of the Logan family. He'd attended the University of Georgia, then gone on to Harvard Law, before returning to work for the governor. An up-and-coming run for that very office would be the next step on Josh's path to the White House.