A Silent Terror & A Silent Fury. Lynette Eason

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      And then there was no more time to worry about the situation. Soon, Marianna found herself caught up in the business of teaching and the endless stack of paperwork that went with it.

      Before she knew it, the day had passed and the final bell had rung. Basketball practice wasn’t until after supper, so Marianna stayed late working on papers. Around five o’clock, she pulled a frozen dinner from her dorm-sized refrigerator and walked toward the teacher’s lounge to zap it in the microwave.

      As she stepped from her well-lit classroom into the dark hall, she noticed how empty the building was.

      Empty and spooky.

      She didn’t need her imagination to fill in what could happen to a lone female in a deserted building. She paused, trying to decide whether to keep going or turn around, grab her purse and get out. Which was silly, because she’d done this routine of staying late ever since basketball season started. Only now, with Suzanne’s death and the break-in…

      Adrenaline kicked in as she relived the terror of seeing Suzanne lying lifeless on the floor, of being alone in her house, grief stricken and weary, then terrorized once again when the intruder climbed through her bedroom window.

      Returning to the scene of the crime.

      Fear seized her, cramped her stomach as a terrifying idea flashed through her mind.

      What if Suzanne was not only in the wrong place at the wrong time, but also was the wrong person?

      What if the killer originally thought Suzanne was Marianna, learned of his mistake, and Friday night was his idea of trying to finish the job?

      * * *

      Ethan sat at his desk, flipping through the case files, his mind about as alert as mush. He couldn’t keep his thoughts focused as he worried about Marianna. For some reason he couldn’t convince himself that this last break-in was unrelated to Suzanne’s murder.

      He glanced at the clock. Almost five thirty. Catelyn had left forty-five minutes ago to meet up with Marianna’s sister Alissa.

      Marianna had basketball practice with her team at six, but no doubt she would head over to the gym early to make sure everything was ready. Tapping his pen against his chin, he thought. Should he go over just to check on her? What if something happened to her while he sat here worrying about her?

      She’s a big girl, O’Hara—she doesn’t need you checking up on her.

      But his mind kept playing the “what if” game. What if there was something behind her and she didn’t hear it? What if someone tried to warn her of the danger coming and…

      Stop it!

      Although…what would it hurt? Just run by, say hey, and then head home. To his empty apartment. Where he would grill chicken for one. Fix one glass of iced tea. Set one place at the table. Growing up, he and Ashley had shared thousands of meals together, just the two of them, while their parents traveled the world, jet-setting with their country club friends.

      Ah, Ashley, sweet sister, even after almost three years, I still miss you terribly at times.

      He let his gaze slide to the picture on his desk, the last one he’d taken of Ashley. She had her long dark hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, had on sweats and a ball cap. Her grin pierced him as he remembered the last time he’d seen her, tried to warn her about the car speeding toward her.

      She hadn’t heard him. Instead she’d hurried toward him, stepping into the path of the vehicle. And he’d been unable to do anything about it. To stop it. His fault…

      Ethan slapped the picture facedown, stood and gathered his leather jacket. He’d just go by the school and see Marianna, make sure she was all right. But he sure wouldn’t tell her that was his reason for stopping by. She was certainly little Miss Independent.

      And she was probably fine, but what could it hurt? Just to see. To reassure himself.

      * * *

      Marianna hurried up the walkway to the dark gym. Puzzlement made her frown. Where were the lights? Her assistant coaches and student helpers?

      Granted, the players wouldn’t show up for another fifteen, twenty minutes, but everyone else should be here by now. Reaching the heavy glass doors, she saw a sign:

      * * *

      Basketball practice has been canceled.

      * * *

      “What?” She hadn’t canceled practice! Well, that explained why no one was here. Had someone decided to play a practical joke on her? It was too early in the year for an April Fool’s Day prank. They’d gotten her good last year: every one of her starting players had texted her claiming to be sick and unable to attend the big play-off game. She still hadn’t come up with an appropriate retaliation.

      She pulled on the door. Locked. Digging in her pocket for her key, she opened it and stepped inside.

      Great, another dark hallway.

      She slapped at the light switch on the wall. Nothing.

      Weird.

      Now she started to get that feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her something wasn’t right. The same feeling she’d had when she’d first seen her door standing wide open the day of Suzanne’s murder.

      Invisible fingers tickled the nape of her neck.

      She whirled.

      “Who’s there?” Because someone was there. She couldn’t hear anyone, but she could feel the presence of someone. A dark, sinister feeling that shot adrenaline double-time through her body.

      Not again, God!

      Her breath came in short, whispered pants as she slipped behind a display board for the moment. She had to make a decision, but her brain felt as if someone had used the remote to put it on pause.

      What to do?

      Think, Marianna, think!

      Her BlackBerry. She slapped her side…and felt nothing. She’d left it charging in her classroom.

      Although the darkness pressed in, she wondered if she could use it to her advantage. She knew the layout of the building. Hopefully, whoever was in here with her didn’t.

      With what she prayed were silent steps, she slowly moved her sneaker-clad feet toward the inner door of the gym. If she could get inside the storage room, she could lock herself in.

      Tears threatened as her fear mounted. But she kept her cool and took another step. And another. The door to the court lay just beyond her. One more step and her fingers brushed the cool metal. She knew it would clang loudly as soon as she pushed it inward. She’d have to move fast once inside the door.

      With another prayer and a deep breath, she gave it a shove and rushed in, spinning to the left. Pure darkness pushed against her eyes. Silence thundered in her ears, even as her hearing aids picked up heavy footsteps behind her.

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