Threat of Darkness(45)

TWELVE

Moments later, left standing alone in the middle of her kitchen, Samantha stared at the back door as it closed after John.

 She was stunned. Although she knew what had just happened, she couldn’t rationalize it. He had kissed her, that much was certain. The question was, Why?

 And why had he looked startled and immediately pushed her away? Had he been as flabbergasted by their emotional connection as she was? That was certainly possible, given their history and the way they were clearly still attracted to each other. For a few, beautiful seconds she had felt as if no time had passed. As if nothing had changed between them.

No, she corrected, shivering. Something had changed and whether or not it was for the better was beyond her reasoning. If anything, their emotional connection was deeper, more poignant.

 This time, John’s kiss had moved her in a way that it never had before, even when he had bid her that final goodbye before leaving Serenity so long ago. It was as if their love had grown in the ensuing years instead of faltering and fading the way she had assumed it would. That, alone, was enough to take her breath away and make her heart race. Considering the possibility that he might share the same impression was mind-boggling.

 Samantha meandered to the sink and leaned her palms on the edge of the countertop while staring out the window at the travel trailer. John’s abrupt departure after their solitary kiss only made sense if he was either sorry or glad.

 “Now that’s a logical conclusion if I ever heard one,” she muttered, chuckling to herself at the absurdity of her thoughts.

 Another good question was how she felt. That was even harder to discern. Yes, she had relished his kiss. And, no, she had not sought it. Or had she? If memory served, she hadn’t done much to deter him. As a matter of fact…

 Disgusted with herself, she turned away from the window and headed for the refrigerator. Medically speaking, hypoglycemia from lack of food had probably muddled her thinking processes. What she needed was a decent meal, not a renewed relationship with someone who had already proved he was unreliable by abandoning her for the sake of his career.

 Samantha pulled open the door to the fridge and leaned down to peer in. Only one thing caught her attention. A note lay on the closest shelf. One corner of it was weighted down by a carton of milk.

 With a trembling hand she started to reach for the paper, then stopped herself, pulling back as if her hand had been burned. The message was crystal clear from right where she stood and if there were any clues on the note, such as fingerprints, she didn’t want to smudge them.

 “The package for the dog.” That was all it said. It was enough.

 Without stopping to consider her own safety, Samantha straight-armed the back door and sailed down the steps.

 She circled the trailer and pounded on it, rattling the metal door in its frame. “John!”

 The small revolver was in hand again when he confronted her. “What is it? What happened this time? Is the prowler back?”

 “No.” She waved her hands wildly. “I found another note! In the house.”

 “Okay.” Stepping down, he scanned the visible sections of the yard before he said, “Looks all clear this time. Show me what you found.”

 “They did take Brutus,” she explained, lamenting the quaver in her voice as she led the way. “We were right. Somebody stole him. They said so.”

 Brightness from the kitchen spilled out onto the porch. John shoved Samantha into the house ahead of him and slammed the door. “Where is it? Show me.”

 “Over there. In the refrigerator. Right in front. I didn’t touch a thing except the handle.”

 He followed her directions, then turned back to stare at her with a frown. “Where did you say you saw it?”

 “Right in there. You can’t miss it.” Edging past him she pointed toward the shelf in question without actually looking at it. “They weighted it down with the milk carton. See?”

 “No. I don’t.”

 “What?” Sam peered around him, incredulous. “It was lying right there. I didn’t imagine it. I saw it with my own eyes.”

 Reaching for his cell phone, he pointed his pistol into the kitchen, kept his back to Sam and made a call. “This is Waltham. I’m on scene at the Rochard residence. We’ve had another break-in.”

 He paused, listening. “No. This is in addition to the incident in the barn that I already reported. That’s right.”

 Unable to hear the response from the dispatcher, Samantha was nevertheless able to tell they were taking the call seriously when John added, “Yes. I’m armed. I’ll keep the victim safe until backup arrives.”