Debbie was exhausted. The last forty-eight hours had been hell. To get past the worry of what might be happening to Cole, she’d cleaned every closet in sight, rearranged cabinets, and polished and repolished silverware and woodwork until Morgan had succumbed to her spree and disappeared to the golf course.

Buddy had locked his door in panic, certain that his precious room would be next in line. When night came on the second day, they’d all fallen into bed, relieved that the worst was over. They’d survived. There was nothing left to clean.

*  *  *

The night was muggy. Debbie lay uncovered, her silky yellow shift bunched around her thighs. She kept trying to find a comfortable position, but her clothes stuck to her body, and her hair wilted against her neck, making sleep impossible.

Knowing that Cole was not across the hall was a constant reminder that she didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. She’d tried to ignore the fact that she was more than a little nervous about his safety. So she’d nearly killed herself by staying too busy to dwell on worries. And, it had almost worked. It was only when the house was dark and quiet, when everything was in place and all were asleep, that rest became impossible, though she was tired enough.

Maybe I’m too tired. I just need to relax.

She thought of the pool and the cool, calming water, and made a decision. It would be a quick dip. No need to change into her suit. Everyone else had been asleep hours ago. Her nighttime prowl couldn’t possibly disturb them. Their rooms were at the opposite end of the house.

She grabbed a towel from her bathroom and padded down the hallway, a slip of yellow moving through the shadows.

The tall, wooden fence that surrounded the backyard protected property and privacy alike. It was enough. The night was dark and lonesome without the moon’s presence. Streetlights from the front of the house stingily shed just enough light with which to maneuver.

The concrete was still warm, a reminder that the day had been hot. Her toes curled with anticipation as the water lapped quietly against the sides of the pool, moving gently in the rhythm of the night’s feeble breeze. She stood beside a deck chair, inhaling the scents of a mimosa tree in full bloom and the bird of paradise flowers opening to the night. The darkness was familiar. She relaxed as it wrapped her in its shadows.