Page 58 of Wasted
The hallway led to the garage door. Could there be an animal or something in her garage?
The or something possibility gripped her mind.
She stepped out into the hallway, inching her way to the closed door that led to the garage.
A sound. Something shaking or rattling?
She froze.
Max let out another woof and rushed up to her, bumping his head into the backs of her knees as he stayed hidden behind her. The poor boy’s tail tucked more tightly between his legs, and his ears flattened against the sides of his head.
She wasn’t helping his fear level. She took in a breath and pulled her shoulders back.
God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.
The reminder straight from Scripture pushed back her apprehension. She used to have to deal with many an unknown sound and imaginary danger when alone at night, watching the children in their big house. She could certainly face another threat—real or imaginary—with God’s protection.
She glanced around for something she could use as a weapon if necessary.
The shovel she’d used to clear snow off the driveway leaned against the wall in the corner where she’d left it. Grabbing the long handle, she stepped in front of the door, inhaled through her nose, and slowly turned the knob.
She opened the door a crack and peered through.
Darkness stared back at her. If someone was in the garage, the intruder would be able to see her well with the hallway light on. She should have thought of that, but it was too late now.
She’d better even the playing field. She opened the door wide enough to reach through to the light switch on the wall outside the door.
The bulbs in the ceiling lit, instantly illuminating the single-car garage.
She scanned the small space. No noises or signs of anything amiss.
The big overhead door and the side door were closed.
Had she imagined the sound she’d heard? But what about Max? There had to be a reason he had barked.
She shifted her grip on the shovel handle, forcing a swallow down her sandpaper throat.
She should check the whole garage to be sure there was no danger. On those nights when she’d been the one her siblings had trusted and depended on, she had checked the whole mansion alone. She’d made sure they were safe, even when she’d had to check empty rooms in the big house that had once been warm and happy but seemed so cold and frightening after Mom was gone. Especially those first nights and weeks. Though they were followed by the long first months, when mothering and responsibility had filled her days and lonely isolation and regret had darkened her nights.
She was used to it now—all grown up with shoulders strengthened to endure the weight of responsibility with joy. Speaking of which…
Recognizing her own stalling, she shrugged off the hesitation and walked purposefully around her parked car. She probably should have approached the other side of it more cautiously, checking around the hood first. But she was beginning to feel rather ridiculous, carrying a shovel around her garage in her robe and pajamas at night. She only hoped the neighbors wouldn’t catch a glimpse of her embarrassing behavior through the small windows halfway up the garage wall.
Nothing odd on either side of the car or behind it. She even squatted to peer under the vehicle.
Empty shadows greeted her searching gaze, thank the Lord.
Only one thing left to check—the only explanation she could think of for the sound she had heard.
She stepped to the side door and stared at the knob. The sound she’d heard had a familiarity to it. She gripped the knob and turned without unlocking it first.
Not quite the same sound. It had been more rapid.
She twisted the knob again, back and forth, quickly.
She jerked her hand back as her pulse lurched.
That was it. The same noise.
