Page 127 of Noel Secrets
The man shoved Bandit away then raised his gun and fired again at Clay. He turned and ran. Bandit took off after him.
Instead of chasing the man, Clay turned to check on Darby. She ran to him and fell into his arms and he held her, his heart pounding as hard as hers.
“Are you hurt? Did he get to you?” he said, his voice husky with fear.
“I’m okay. Bandit alerted me and we hid, but the intruder found us. I thought he’d break down the door.”
“Your cheek.” He touched it and pain stung her. His hand came back with blood. “You are hurt.”
“Glass from the frame.” She turned to point to the photo still hanging on the wall and the glass scattered on the floor. “It’s not bad.”
“I’m sorry, Darby. I let him get past me.”
Sirens sounded outside and police cars lined the street. “We should go. You need to get that cut looked at. The police will have questions.”
“And we should find the dog,” she insisted. “Mia and the kids will worry if he runs off.”
She gave silent thanks for his steadiness as he led her down the stairs and outside to talk to the police. Clay gave a better description of the assailant than she could remember.
A paramedic took Darby to a waiting ambulance parked behind the rows of Sheraton police cruisers. Apparently, the town had no shortage of officers to respond to a break-in for this neighborhood.
“You have some glass shards embedded in your cheek,” the paramedic explained. “Nothing too serious. Won’t even need stitches.”
It could have been much worse, and she knew it. That bullet could have hit her head instead of the glass frame.
Clay appeared at the ambulance bay with a surprise—a tired but safe Yorkie.
“Bandit! Thank goodness.” She took the dog and cuddled it in her relief. This family loved their pooch.
“I spoke with the police, but they’ll still want to talk with you. Are you up for it?”
“Nope.” The paramedic looked up into Clay’s face. “Not till I’m done here.”
Before they could respond, a white SUV pulled up to the scene and parked. Mia Holmes hopped out, took in the shattered front window of her home as well as Darby and Bandit. She ran to the ambulance.
“Darby, are you okay?” Her voice was frantic with worry. “Is Bandit okay? What happened?”
“I’m fine.” She handed Bandit to Mia, who cradled him. “Someone broke into the house while I was here, but Bandit fought them off. He’s a good dog.”
She gave a relieved smile then rubbed Bandit’s chin. “Yes, he is a good dog. You’re okay though, right?”
“Yes, just some glass in my cheek.”
“Thank goodness.” She glanced at her house again and fear crept in. “Did the police catch this intruder?”
“He got away,” Clay told her.
She eyed him. “Who are you?”
“A friend of Darby’s.”
“Mia, I’m sorry about your house. I’ll find someone to clean up the mess.” She had no idea who. But she’d find someone.
“Fine. I should get the kids from school and take them to my in-laws.” Mia called to the officer who headed their way. “When I can get back into my house?”
“The lead officer will have to tell you. I’m forensics. Just here to get a sample from the dog.”
Mia pulled the dog tighter against her. “What kind of sample?”
