Breathing a sigh of relief that some pervert hadn’t been going through her underwear drawer, she led Josh to the side of the house, pointing out the mysterious footprints.
“See? There’s one set facing each direction, like someone entered and then exited, but there are no other prints showing how the person came or left.”
Josh rubbed his chin. “Well, that is a bit puzzling. Let me think about it.” Just as she had, he stared at the ground, the roof, the walls, and the porch.” He got down and pressed his hand to the ground, observing the imprint it made in the soft mud. “Huh... Only explanation I can think of is that the ground was frozen when this fellow came around. It still goes below freezing most nights, but the ground nearer the house would have been softer from the heat seeping out—these cabins aren’t very energy efficient, you know—so his prints would show here, but not farther away.”
Mel nodded slowly. It sort of made sense. “But why was someone here in the first place?”
Shrugging, Josh wiped his muddy hand on a handkerchief he pulled from his coat pocket. “Most likely a transient. He was probably looking for a place to spend the night or wondering if there was anything worth stealing. You know, I’m not a skilled tracker or anything, but these prints could be days old. See how the dog prints are on top of the man’s? No telling exactly, when any of these were made.”
“Are you sure they’re dog prints? Couldn’t they be from a wolf?” Mel was thinking of the wolves she’d encountered on Ryne’s property. Had they tracked her here?
“Wolves? I suppose. But they don’t usually come near town unless the hunting is really bad, and the winter wasn’t that harsh this year. Nope, these are most likely from a stray dog.”
“Oh... Okay.” Mel felt a bit deflated as well as relieved at the logical explanation Josh had come up with. As usual, her imagination was getting the best of her. She wasn’t exactly sure what she thought was going on, but it hadn’t been anything as mundane as what Josh had come up with. “Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“No problem. I know how skittish you ladies can get. Better to check it, like Beth said. Then everyone can rest easy.” With a nod of his head, Josh headed home.
Mel watched him leave and then went inside. She walked into her bedroom and looked around. Everything was as she’d left it. Approaching the window, she pushed the curtain aside and stared at the casing. It was old, but in good repair though there didn’t seem to be a locking mechanism. Crime in Stump River probably wasn’t a major concern so no one worried about locks on windows. She’d heard that rural areas could be pretty lax when it came to home security.
She chuckled. What would they think if they ever saw her apartment in Chicago? She had deadbolts, chains, a keypad, and a peep hole to check who was at the door... At times, she felt like she was in a prison, but crime rates were high. If you didn’t want to become another statistic, you did what you had to.
Experimentally, she tried to open the window and was surprised when it slid open with hardly a sound. Josh obviously kept the cabins in good repair. She pulled the glass down and studied it carefully. There were fingerprints on the glass pane. The first set were obviously her own, but who owned the others? Had Josh tested the window? He might have, but she didn’t think he’d mentioned it, nor had she heard the window sliding up and down. Of course, she hadn’t been listening for it either and it was very quiet.
Biting her lip, she stepped back and jerked the curtain into place. Had someone been in her room last night? Watched her sleeping? Touched her? Kissed her? Intimately caressed her? The very thought made her skin crawl and bile rise in her throat. She rushed to the bathroom and leaned against the sink, panting and sweating, willing the contents of her stomach to stay down where they belonged.
After a moment, she began to regain control of herself. She leaned over the sink and splashed cool water on her face and then grabbed a towel to absorb the droplets. Staring into the mirror, she patted her face dry while noting her pale skin and dilated eyes.
This is ridiculous, she scolded herself. No one was in your room. It’s like Josh said; the footprints are probably old. No one was here—it’s just your darned imagination working overtime. A bit of trivia popped into her head and she stood up straight, the beginnings of a smile forming. As a matter of fact, it couldn’t have been last night. She remembered hearing the weather report on the radio while driving back to the cabin. It said that the temperatures had been above freezing the previous night. The ground would have been soft. Anybody out there would have left lots of footprints, not just one set. Feeling relieved, she stuck her tongue out at her reflection and mentally chastised herself. See? It was nothing. No one was there except your phantom lover.