Fatal Flashback. Kellie VanHorn

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       FOUR

      Ashley’s breath echoed loudly in her ears, her heart hammering, as she hastily folded up the map and tucked it inside the waistband of her pants. The sound persisted—scratch, scratch, scratch—and she tried to slow her breathing as she glanced around the room for a weapon.

      She wanted her gun, but Logan had given it to the superintendent and he wouldn’t return it until she was ready for duty. There—in the kitchen—the knife block. She crept through the dark living room and around the peninsula into the kitchen, pulling out one of the long knives at the top of the block.

      The casement was moving now. The intruder struggled with the window, trying to pull it up as quietly as possible. With all the lights off, the trespasser probably thought she wasn’t home. Her eyes darted to the front door. If she slipped outside now, whoever it was might never know she’d been in here.

      But what if someone was waiting out there, too? Whoever had hit her in the head? And if the person at the window was working alone, she didn’t want to miss her chance to identify the intruder.

      Taking one slow, deliberate breath after another, she crept to the doorway leading into the bedroom. She pressed her back against the living room wall and stole a glance around the doorjamb into the room. It was too dark to see who was outside the window, but gloved fingers worked underneath the inch-wide crack. If she had to pick, she’d guess they belonged to a man.

      Her heart lurched. Breathe. FBI agents don’t panic. They could wish for backup though, couldn’t they?

      Ashley’s palms went slick with sweat. She tightened her grip on the knife handle as the window moved up another inch. She couldn’t let him get all the way into the room or he might overpower her. But she wanted to see his face before she made a move.

      Waiting was agony. Another inch and two hands appeared under the casement, now pushing together.

      Almost time.

      Somebody banged on the front door and Ashley was so startled she let out a cry. The hands disappeared from the window. That low, gritty brushing noise had to be retreating footsteps across the desert sand.

      “Ashley?” Logan called, knocking again.

      She dashed across the living room, throwing the door open. “Quick, around back. He’s getting away.”

      Logan stared, his head cocked to one side. “What?”

      She dropped the knife to the floor with a clatter and shoved past him, forgetting about her bare feet until she was already running around the back of the house. Even though the intruder might be long gone already, maybe she could still catch a glimpse of him. Anything that might give her a clue as to his identity.

      “Where are you going?” he called, running after her. “You’re supposed to be resting!”

      Breathless, she stopped at the back corner of the building. Nobody. Nothing but an endless stretch of dirt, rocks and cactuses rolling toward the dark mass of the Chisos Mountains, barely visible against the sea of stars above.

      He stopped next to her. “What’s going on?”

      Without a flashlight, it was pointless trying to run after the intruder. “A man was trying to break into my room, but you scared him off when you knocked.”

      “Are you all right?” Logan’s resonant voice was full of concern.

      “Yes, but I didn’t get a description.”

      “Here.” He pulled a flashlight from his pocket and flipped it on. “We can at least check for prints.”

      Of course he had a flashlight. Hers was sitting uselessly inside on the nightstand. Irritation sizzled through her veins but she forced herself to smile. “Glad you have a light.”

      “It’s not very smart to wander around out here unprepared.” The beam of light traveled across her feet, blindingly white against her black pants. “Or barefoot, for that matter. Don’t you ever wear shoes?”

      “It’s not like I had time to lace up a pair of boots. And the river claimed the last pair. Let’s look for footprints.”

      Logan held up his hand as she stepped toward the window. “No, you stay right there. You’ll end up with your feet full of cactus spines, if they aren’t already. Or worse, a rattlesnake bite.”

      Ashley opened her mouth to retort but then closed it, because now that he mentioned it, one of her feet did sting rather badly. But she wasn’t about to tell him, so she watched silently as he waved the beam of light across the ground near the back of her house.

      “Do you see anything?” she asked after a minute.

      “Some crushed vegetation, but the dirt is bare and hard here. The window has been raised about two inches, though. We can dust for prints.”

      “He was wearing gloves.”

      “How do you know it was a man?” The beam of the flashlight obscured Logan’s face.