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She lifted her gaze toward the kitchen. The crate door stood wide-open.
Polly’s pulse began to quicken.
She straightened slowly, her gaze moving from the open crate to the rest of the apartment. Everything looked normal—no overturned cushions, no shredded shoes, no quilt pieces piled into a makeshift bed. Just the faint smell of Luna’s puppy shampoo and the comforting warmth of her little condo.
“Okay,” Polly murmured, trying to steady the tremor in her voice. “Maybe I didn’t latch it all the way this morning.” She set the take-out box on the kitchen island and tested the latch to make sure it wasn’t broken. It worked fine. Then she took a quick look around. Yesterday’s mail stacked neatly on the counter. The coffee pot rinsed and drying in the dish rack beside the sink. Nothing out of place.
Luna padded after her as she walked through the main room, toenails clicking on the hardwood. The pup let out a soft whine and bumped her nose against Polly’s knee as if sensing her unease.
“You’re right,” Polly said, giving Luna’s head a gentle pat. “I’m jumpy. That’s all. Just nerves after everything that happened tonight.”
But as she crossed to the window and glanced down at the street below, her reflection ghosted back at her against the dark glass—eyes too wide, shoulders tense. At first the reflection unnerved her, reminding her of the man in the hoodie she’d seen outside the cafeteria. Or maybe she hadn’t seen him at all, and she was living through some kind of horrible delusion. Maybe she was the one who needed to muster up the strength to seek out therapy about how she was turning her quiet, predictable life upside down.
But no. She hadn’t imagined anything. The threat was real. She just didn’t know who was behind it or why she’d been singled out for this psychological terror campaign.
She needed to get a grip. She needed to stay strong and be vigilant and trust that Daniel and her family could protect her.
Polly exhaled and reached for Luna’s leash. “All right, girl. Quick potty break, and then we’re both calling it a night.”
Luna’s whole backside wagged as Polly clipped on the leash. She tucked her keys and phone into her pocket and headed for the door. Habit made her double-check the dead bolt once she stepped out into the hallway.
The stairwell was quiet except for the faint knocking of pipes in the walls. Each footstep echoed a little too loudly as they descended. The lights overhead buzzed, each one flaring to life again as she passed, leaving her to wonder what might be lurking in the shadows before the automatic sensors detected her presence. She quickened her pace.
She stayed inside the parking garage even though the night air smelled faintly of exhaust and damp concrete. Polly led Luna off to one side of the secured level where a small patch of artificial turf had been set up for tenants with pets to use when the weather was particularly bad or the hour was late—or you were a woman who was scared spitless to be alone outside at night with only a puppy for company. Maybe she could change the focus of Luna’s training at K-9 Ranch. Maybe it was possible for her happy, energetic girl to become a guard dog. Certainly, her breed lent itself to being an intimidating K-9.
The puppy circled twice before settling in to do her business. Polly couldn’t help but chuckle when she heard what sounded like a groan of satisfaction coming from Luna’s muzzle. Right. It would probably take a miracle to transform her friendly, easygoing companion into the kind of guard dog she wished she had right now.
“Good girl.” She praised the pup and smooched her on her nose before leading her around the garage for some more exercise.
She tried to think about Daniel—to picture him sitting with his group, talking things through, calming the demons that haunted him. That thought should have comforted her. It almost did.
Then behind her, a garage door creaked to life.
Polly startled, then pressed her hand to her chest to calm her racing heartbeat. Luna twitched, her nose lifting.
Polly watched the roll-up gate rattling into the housing overhead, saw the car waiting outside to enter. As the car pulled in, she even recognized one of their neighbors and returned his wave.
“Just somebody else coming home late,” she whispered, trying to sound practical, even to herself. She gave the leash a soft tug. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go inside.”
But her pulse didn’t settle until they reached her door again. Once they were inside, she locked the dead bolt behind her and stood for a moment with her back to the door, letting the familiar scents of her apartment wash over her. Barbecue. Coffee. Puppy shampoo. Nothing ominous. Nothing out of place.
“See?” she murmured to Luna, forcing a small laugh. “We’re fine. Just Mama being paranoid again.”
Luna wagged her tail, then she trotted toward the kitchen, toenails clicking on the hardwood. Her tail thumped expectantly against a cabinet door.
“All right, all right. You earned it.”
Polly unwrapped her share of the takeout on the kitchen island. The sauce had cooled and thickened, but the smoky sweetness still clung to the air. She tore a bite-size piece of brisket and held it out to Luna, who accepted it with polite enthusiasm before settling on the mat by her feet.
They ate in companionable quiet. Somewhere beyond the walls, a neighbor’s television murmured faintly—laughter and applause from a sitcom she couldn’t place. Normal sounds. Familiar. Safe.
Still, every now and then, a prickle crawled up the back of her neck, as if something unseen had brushed too close. She glanced toward the windows again, the harsh light of the streetlamp outside sneaking around the edges of the curtains she’d closed earlier. Nothing there. Just her imagination refusing to quiet down.
She rinsed her hands in the sink, the water’s rush breaking the silence. “You know,” she told Luna, trying to sound casual, “Daniel would say this is just adrenaline wearing off. After what happened tonight, my brain’s still running on overdrive.”
The puppy tilted her head, as if listening.
“Exactly,” Polly said, drying her hands. “I’m overthinking everything.”
