Christmas Stalking. Margaret Daley

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      As much as she would like to rush back outside and search the grounds for Winnie or any clue to her whereabouts, she had to check the house first.

      As she started with the room next to Winnie’s, prayers for the woman’s safety flooded her thoughts. When she reached Colt’s bedroom, she hesitated, feeling awkward to intrude on his privacy. But she had a job to do. She pushed open the door and looked inside.

      This is ridiculous. If the man had followed her orders, she wouldn’t have to do this right now. She stepped inside and made a quick tour—noting his duffel bag on a chair, his shoes on the floor, keys and some change on the dresser, pictures on the wall from when he was young.

      A picture of him coming out of the darkness with a speargun in his hand crowded into her thoughts. She shook the image from her mind and turned to leave.

      “What are you doing in my grandson’s room with a gun in your hand?”