Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Now, as Bo and I watched, more of the hand came into view as the chain was quietly rattled as whoever it was tried again and again. The dead bolt had been easily opened; the small chain lock was proving to be more of a setback, probably because my father bought the one you had to turn and lift, slide and go up and down in a zigzag pattern. If you couldn’t see it, it was hard to do. It was like one of those metal brain puzzles, and the guy was having trouble.
I sat up without making a sound. Bo came to his feet, and I was afraid if I yelled, the dog would go after the intruder, and I had no idea what would happen then. I rolled off the couch, my gaze never leaving the door, and walked backward until I felt the recliner behind me. I sank soundlessly down onto the arm and put my hand over Alex’s mouth.
Alex’s eyes flicked open—he worked undercover, so maybe he was used to getting roused like that. He didn’t do that surprised startle that always happened in the movies; he just woke up, instantly alert.
I whispered for him to look, and pointed toward the door. I felt him tense under my hand, and I moved away as he bounced up to his feet. He pulled his gun from his shoulder holster, and I only had a moment to think that my brother was sleeping with his gun and that couldn’t be good before he ran to the front door, threw it open, and charged out into the night.
It made no sense that he would leave me, but what was he supposed to do, let the guy in the house? That seemed like the worst-case scenario. I also had a second to think, why wasn’t the alarm on?
At the same moment the chain finally got worked loose, and I yelled as the door slowly slid open. I saw the outline of a large man framed in the doorway before I heard a command of “Freeze!” from outside.
He pivoted fast and bolted, Bo launched himself toward the door, and a shot rang out. I lunged and caught Bo’s collar so he couldn’t go after the intruder. Having only about fifty pounds on the dog, I wasn’t certain I could hold him, but I managed to wrap my arms around him so he couldn’t move.
“Tracy!”
The lights came on suddenly, and my dad was there, his hand on my back, and when I squinted so I wasn’t blinded and looked, there was nobody at the sliding door, neither the man nor my brother.
“Oh God. Alex,” I gasped, and my heart stopped. I was certain the intruder had shot my brother.
Evan blew by us and out the door. Instantly I heard someone yell for him to freeze where he was.
I wanted to get up, to move, to go see, but I was frozen in place too.
“Honey, let go of Bo,” my father said tenderly.
I still had my hands clutched around Bo’s collar, and I was shaking.
“Bo, sit.”
The dog wanted to go see what was going on, but one command from my father and he sat, waiting for what came next.
Slowly, my dad untangled my fingers from Bo’s collar and got me up off the floor and back on the couch. Only then did he call Bo to him, and they both went out the sliding glass door.
Alone, I watched the floodlights go on around the property, saw a lot of shadows of people moving, and heard shouting as I sat and waited.
It wasn’t long before Evan came back and took a seat beside me on the couch.
“Is Alex okay?” I asked him, holding my breath.
“He’s fine,” he said, passing me my glasses.
“You’re sure?” I asked again, leaning against him heavily.
“Yeah, he’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”
I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart, willing my stomach to unclench and my breathing to even out.
I heard sirens, and minutes later, when I opened my eyes, there was a new flood of noise from outside—voices, doors slamming—too much for before dawn in my father’s quiet neighborhood.
A policeman closed the sliding door, so that drowned out the circus outside. I sat next to my brother and stared at the dying flames in the fireplace.
When Evan got up, I made sure I didn’t fall over, watching silently as he threw one of those ready-to-burn logs into the fireplace with some regular wood and got the living room warm and cozy again.
We were sitting there, talking about Mom for some reason, when the door swung open and Cord walked in. He looked strange: rumpled, eyes red-rimmed, and he was unshaven, which he never was. He crossed the floor to Evan and me and took a seat on the coffee table beside the couch, facing me, as he had earlier that night.