Page 41 of Her Last Whisper
After spending enough time with Cisco, Katie made her rounds through the house cleaning up the kitchen and picking up anything that wasn’t in its place. It made her feel better knowing that everything was in order when she began a new day. She fell into bed an hour later and within minutes was sound asleep.
A low growl woke her.She opened her eyes to the unmistakable silhouette of a German shepherd standing guard at her bedroom door listening and sniffing the air for danger. She called him over, but he remained on high alert.
Something bumped against the side of her house, causing her to sit straight up in bed and drop her feet to the floor, her hand silently reaching for the drawer to her nightstand. With a slow deliberate slide of her hand, Katie pulled out her handgun.
Wearing only a tank top and pajama shorts, she crept from her bedroom, down the hallway, and then to the sliding doors at the back of the house. It was dark, only the faintest sliver of the moon to illuminate her backyard. As she stood motionless, waiting, nothing moved or seemed out of place.
Retreating back into the kitchen, Katie picked up her cell phone from the counter and pressed the house alarm application from the main phone menu. Two cameras appeared in a window, one showing the front yard while the other displayed her backyard. Nothing moved. No alert showed itself.
Maybe it was an animal?
Glancing at the small neon kitchen clock on the stove, it was barely past 1.00a.m. She felt as if she had slept almost the entire night, but in reality, it was only a couple of hours. However, she felt strangely alert.
Bump.
There it was again.
This time Cisco barked twice as a warning to who or whatever was outside.
“Easy, boy,” she whispered, still not knowing where the thumping sound originated from.
Glancing at her security camera from her phone, it clearly showed that the yard was empty, but there were a few blind spots. One was on the farthest side of the house and the other was down the driveway.
Katie contemplated the risk for a moment, but decided to investigate, otherwise she would never get back to sleep. Flipping the lock mechanism of the sliding door, she slowly pulled it open with little sound. Cisco’s nose pushed toward her and she gently signaled her hand to make him stay—to his frustration, he begrudgingly waited, staying behind.
The damp air made her shudder as she slowly made her way toward the other side of the house. Her bare feet felt the damp dirt. Directing her weapon ahead of her, she moved the barrel slightly from left to right keeping everything in prime view, inching forward until she reached the end of the house. Sucking in a deep breath and then letting it out, she moved around the corner.
Nothing.
Katie felt silly, but in the past there had been some real dangers lurking around her home. It didn’t hurt to be extra cautious and not take anything for granted.
Looking down, strange indentations in the dirt caught her attention. They looked like drag marks in the soil. Katie stood her ground and looked around in a one-hundred-eighty-degree view. She strained to hear anything unusual. A soft scratching sound came from the sliding door, which she knew could only be Cisco wanting out to find a bad guy.
Lowering her weapon slightly, she continued to walk toward the front of the house when she saw a figure leaning against the outside wall. With her weapon raised, Katie ran toward him. “Put your hands up now! Sheriff’s department, put your hands up!” she yelled, still keeping a solid stance in her flimsy pajamas.
Cisco’s bark became rapid and louder as he raced over to the window nearest Katie.
The man slowly raised his hands. Since Katie didn’t have a flashlight, she couldn’t see the details of his face. The low wattage outside lights cast a shadow on the man’s appearance. There was some type of duffle bag sitting next to him.
“Who are you?” demanded Katie as her breathing became shallow. “I said, who are you?”
“US Army Sergeant Nicholas Haines at your service,” he replied with a slight southern drawl.
What?
Katie moved closer and could see that he was wearing army fatigues, but she still didn’t believe her ears.
Nick?
“Who are you?” she demanded again, this time with less authority.
“Scotty, it’s me, Nick,” he said with a familiar tone and still a slight Kentucky accent. No one called Katie Scotty except her sergeant from the army.
“Nick?” she said, almost breathless.
He slowly stood up with slight difficulty, revealing one prosthetic leg. “It’s really me, Scotty.”
Realizing that her eyes weren’t deceiving her, she lowered her gun and rushed to him. She hugged him tight. “Nick, it’s so great to see you. What are you doing here at this hour? How’d you find…? What happened to your…?”
