But what choice did she have? She couldn’t stay here all night. And who knew when James might come back? Slowly and silently, she pushed open the door and stared into the shadowed landing. A bathroom to the right and across the hallway? The bedroom with its window that opened to the wraparound porch roof that connected to the back extension? With an eye to the dark hole that was the staircase, she darted across the landing and into the spare room.

Last resort, she reminded herself and, pushing aside all of her fears, started down the stairs. Though the big old house remained still, she held her breath as she stepped onto the lower level. The interior was cast in a wash of thin gray light, the illumination from a single outdoor security lamp reflecting on the snow. She decided to leave through the front door as there had been a lot of footprints and paw prints disrupting the snow. As for the dead bolt?

Too bad.

Let James wonder if someone had been inside.

Served him right.

Mouth dry, starting to sweat despite the temperature, she pushed back the latch and opened the door, then stepped onto the porch.

All quiet.

Dark sky, falling snow, freezing temperatures, but noiseless.

Still, her skin prickled.

All she had to do was hurry down the lane and, at the road, make her way across the parking lot of the inn to the spot where she’d left her car. Another twenty minutes and she’d be home free—

Scraaape!

She turned toward the sound, a scratch that came from the spot where the porch wrapped toward the back of the house.

And saw nothing.

Just your imagination.

Pulse going wild, she scanned the snowy landscape more carefully, but found no one hiding in the shadows.

Just get out of here.

As softly as possible, she pulled the door shut behind her and started off the porch.

Scraaape!

Louder.

Just the wind, causing a branch to rub against the roof or—

Her heart was a jackhammer as she started across the lawn.

A deep growl rumbled from the porch.

She froze.

Turned.

Saw the dark figures on the porch. A man and a dog with a shaggy coat, pointed ears, eyes reflecting the eerie light.

Her stomach knotted, and she was about to run when an all-too-familiar voice stopped her cold: “Rebecca.”

Oh. God. James.

“You scared me! What’re you doing here—?” she started.

“I forgot something,” he said, but she looked to the parking area, where there was no vehicle. His friend must have dropped him off, and he’d returned to catch whoever was inside his house. She hadn’t fooled him at all.