Page 59 of Hiss and Make Up
He finished his beer and placed the empty bottle on the counter. That IP address could wait another few minutes.
“Where you going?” Freddy asked.
Marc grabbed his keys and nodded his head at the door. “Want to help me do some digging?”
“Sure.” Freddy jumped from the couch and downed the last of his own beer. “But wait, what about that cute face you were supposed to call? And tell me more about?”
He’d forgotten again.
Marc made a quick call to Sierra. He didn't get an answer, even though she’d said she wasn’t working today. He shot off another quick text.
You still ok?
Then, he put the phone in his back pocket, and he and Freddy headed across the field together.
* * *
Sierra slid her back against the refrigerator and sank to the floor. After she’d crept in through a broken window in the burnt half of the house, she’d planned to hide in one of the kids’ rooms. The smoky air had overwhelmed her halfway down the hall, so she’d been forced to come up with a new strategy.
Waiting in the kitchen seemed like a better option anyway. From here, she could see out the front window if someone drove up. She hadn’t parked out front since she needed the house to look abandoned. Parking at Marc’s had been out of the question since Marc woulddefinitelytry to talk her out of this. Plus, there was a truck she didn’t recognize out front, and she wasn’t exactly in a meet-new-people kind of mood.
So she hid her car on the other side of the property, behind the big shed where she’d looked at the snake on Friday. The only thing she’d brought in the house with her was her cell phone, which was on silent. She’d ignored Marc’s call a minute before, and only sent back a one-word response to his text.Fine.
She couldn’t get into any of this with him right now, but if she ignored him too long, who knew what he’d do. Ride in on his white horse looking all over two parishes to rescue her from herself, no doubt.
She tapped her fingers on the tile floor and practiced again to see how quickly she could access her camera. If someone did show up at the house, at least she would know who they were up against. She could sneak a photo of them and give it to Marc to see if he knew the creep. Or creepess. Or hideous monster. Whatever showed up, she’d get evidence and that reward.
Sure, her plan had flaws. For one, she had no idea how long it would take for someone to show up at the house. It could take hours. It could take days. She doubted it would take weeks. Whoever did this seemed to be in a hurry. With two snake attacks in two days, followed by a full-blown barn-burner later that second day, she doubted she’d have to wait long for someone to land in her trap.
Bored and anxious, Sierra dug through the nearby cabinets and drawers, examining Denise’s life like an archaeological dig.
Bottom line: way too many sippy cups and way too little liquor.
A muffled voice outside carried into the kitchen. Sierra peeked over the island countertop to look out the window on the opposite wall, but no one was out there. No cars in the driveway either. Duh. She didn’t even burn the house down and she’d had the sense to not park in the driveway. The arsonist would have the same idea.
Someone fumbled with a key in the front door lock. She slid between the center island and the stove with her knees pulled against her, then she reached into the nearest cabinet for a weapon. Maybe she could do more than take a photo.
She fought with the child lock then grabbed the first thing she found inside—a small, stainless steel saucepan.
The front door opened and closed behind the intruder. Her muscles tensed as two voices and two sets of footsteps entered the living room.
Two. Crap.
The voices dropped to a muffled whisper, then one set of footsteps trailed off down the hall. No matter how hard she strained, she couldn’t hear the second.
Trapped in the kitchen with no idea where this guy might be in the house, she abandoned her plan to sneak a picture. Liz and her dad were right. She wasn’t Nancy Drew. With her luck, she’d set off the useless flash on her phone or blast a horrible sound or find some other idiotic way to get herself discovered.
She’d have to stay hidden until these creeps left. Hopefully, she could catch a glimpse of them or follow them to grab a photo of a license plate and call the police later.
One of the intruders stepped onto the tile and stopped at the edge of the kitchen. With both hands gripping the saucepan handle, Sierra remained hidden, hoping the creep would decide he didn’t want anything in the kitchen.
No such luck.
The footsteps moved closer to the island, stopping directly across from where Sierra sat hidden on the floor.
She held her breath and tightened her grip on the tiny saucepan. When the intruder reached her side of the island, she jumped to her feet and swung with every ounce of strength she had, connecting with the side of a man’s head. With athunkand the pang of the metal saucepan, the man collapsed in a heap on the floor.
All she could see from her side of the massive island countertop was his jeans and feet, which weren’t moving. Sierra exhaled and relaxed, keeping her little pot ready in one hand while she dug in her pocket for the phone.
