She felt the big dog’s hackles rise against her hand and the warning vibration of a growl from deep in his chest. They both looked around. There were plenty of places for someone to hide, but she saw no one. He must have smelled an animal. Something skittered through the undergrowth and she saw the same flash of white.

Mary Beth shook her head at her foolishness. It was a possum, that was all.

If anything, it was hotter out here. She finally saw a distant flash of lightning but heard no thunder. The storm might be as far away as Tennessee. Maybe it would pass them by.

Mary Beth would rather it didn’t. A drenching rain and cool gusts would feel good right now and serve to dispel the odd tension that besieged her.

She heard her phone ring a few times inside the house, and then stop. Okay. She didn’t have to run to get it. But she wanted to know who it was. Probably Bobby Joe, she thought, taking a deep breath and summoning up her patience in advance.

“Okay, boy. Back in.” Shep obeyed, his paws clicking on the polished wood floor as he returned to his favored spot on the floor. Mary Beth locked the front door behind her and checked the kitchen door that led outside. It was already locked. Good enough.

She knew the dog would raise a ruckus if there was a reason to. Mary Beth looked around for her purse, spotting it on the hall table. She dug in it for her phone, which rang just as her hand closed around it.

Bobby Joe’s number flashed on the screen. Mary Beth moved quickly into the living room, so the sound of her voice wouldn’t disturb the women upstairs.

“Hello.”

She heard only noise at first, incoherent chatter punctuated by a bar band warming up. Then Bobby Joe came on.

“Hey, baby.”

Even just those two little words sounded slurred. Mary Beth suppressed the good advice she knew he wouldn’t take: You ought not to drink yet, Bobby Joe. Your meds don’t mix with beer or booze.

Once he’d had the first drink, there was always a second. And a third. She’d known that about Bobby Joe even before he’d gotten sloshed at their engagement party, and look what it made him do.

“Where are you?”

He laughed. “Lemme ask. Fred, what’s the name of this podunk town again?”

Mary Beth couldn’t make out his friend’s reply.

“It’s right on the Gulf,” Bobby Joe added as further explanation. “We just went night fishing. Didn’t catch a damn thing.”

She heard hoots of raucous laughter. No doubt they were all drunk. Given the accident, she hoped they weren’t getting behind the wheel after they were done boozing.