Page 8 of Crash and Burn

With a concerted effort, she forced her breathing to slow, hoping she could hear something besides her own fear. Her toes curled into the plush rug she’d laid out beside her bed so her feet didn't hit the cold wood every morning.

She should have worn something other than a silly night shirt.

Thump.

There. She heard it again.

Oh dear God, therewassomeone in the house. Surely that wasn't a sound the house made on its own.

Without moving her feet, Maggie snaked her hand out and curled her fingers around the Louisville Slugger she’d set beside the bed. She'd found it in one of the rooms while cleaning last week. Had one of Abbie's tenants left it?

There was no telling. Maggie had cleared drawers of the antique chests to find real silverware, old letters, and receipts from purchases made twenty years ago. There were instruction manuals for appliances no longer in the house.

The baseball bat had been a boon.

Now she was grateful as she held it in her grip, aiming it down the stairs in front of her almost as though it were a broadsword rather than a bat. She had no idea what she was doing with it.

Slowly, so as not to make the floors creak, she stepped cautiously forward. What she wouldn’t give to have Sebastian here.

Oh hell. Why was she thinking ofhim?

Thump.

Another knock came from downstairs and made her ribs squeeze and her fingers clench tighter.

Whoever it was, was trying to be quiet. Or, she told herself, maybe it wasn't a silent human, but a noisy raccoon.

It was entirely possible this was just some random wildlife that had snuck in. The property bordered on woods. Though the boarding house was relatively near the middle of town, Redemption had done a good job of staying green. Strips of lush trees, bushes, and woods buffeted many of the neighborhoods offering shade and walking trails.

Right now, however, Maggie was wishing for the trees to be gone. How she would love to see clearly out the back of her yard and into her neighbors’, to make eye contact with another person who should have been there.

As the next noise made her jolt, she felt the anger flare. She'd had enough of this. Forgetting her bare feet and her unorthodox grip on the bat and her ridiculous nightshirt, Maggie bolted forward.

She thumped down the stairs, making more than enough noise for anyone to hear her coming. Her goal was speed. In her sheer pissiness, she'd forgotten her safety and was ready to duke it out with whomever might have snuck in.

Even as she hit the bottom step she heard another noise, this one toward the back of the house.

She whirled around the stair post and chased the sound, ready to throw down in defense of the home that still didn't quite feel like her own. As she skidded to a halt at the back of the house, the cool night air wafted over her, the gentle breeze knocking her back.

The back door stood wide open.

Holy shit, she wasn't just imagining things. The noises weren’t just the creak of an old house, someone had actually been here.

She looked around the hallway, bat still choked up and ready to swing.Allthe hallway doors stood open.

She kept them closed normally, and if any were open, she closed them on her nightly lock up. Maggie didn't know why. It was just part of her regular routine, like checking the bolts on the windows. There were so many windows in this house.

Now, she reached out and gingerly closed the back door with one hand. Her fingers shook as reality set in while she tried to work the bolt. Only as she felt the heavy lock slide home did she realize that she might have bolted something inside with her.

Sucking in a breath at her own stupidity, she cautiously turned and headed toward the front of the house. She peeked into each of the bedrooms, looked into the living room and through the arch to the dining room. Maggie couldn’t see into the kitchen but she wasn’t willing to get too far from the front door. It could wait.

She padded softly into the foyer. The porch lamp sent a soft glow through the frosted glass of the front door giving her some light to see by.

Did a shadow move in it?

Her rage sparked again. No one had any right invading her home. With one hand still on the bat, she rapidly undid the bolt and threw the door wide.

Maggie stepped boldly and angrily onto the front porch and smacked right into a broad, hard chest.

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