There was no dust on the slats, none of them appeared disturbed and no footprints were visible on the floor. If they called the police, considering that the scene of the crime was in Woodhaven Villas, the responding officer would probably send one of Marnie’s coworkers out to dust for fingerprints. Hell, Marnie would do it herself if he asked, even if Macy did refuse to make a report.
But so far, he’d seen nothing to indicate anything more than an overactive imagination.
When he looked at Macy, her cheeks were pink again and she stared at the floor instead of him. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Even if she didn’t see it, she would hear it in his voice. “The good news is that there doesn’t appear to be anyone here. Let’s check the other rooms just to be sure.”
A faint nod was her only response.
The closet and bathroom were empty, ditto the bedroom and bath on the other side of the house. The door from the kitchen to a tiny patio was dead-bolted, and all the windows were closed and locked. The house was more secure than his own.
Realizing he’d lost Scooter along the way, Stephen returned to the first bedroom, hoping the mutt wasn’t curled up on the bed. He wasn’t, but was sniffing the floor beneath the window instead. Strange houses were full of new scents for his sensitive nose, which was okay as long as he didn’t feel compelled to leave his own. “Come on, Scooter. Let’s go.”
Tail quivering, the dog spun around and raced out of the room. If Stephen had been a second slower opening the front door, Scooter would have smacked into it.
“I’m sorry,” Macy said as she relocked the door. “I really thought I saw...” Her voice wasn’t much steadier than it had been before they’d entered the guesthouse. He guessed it was embarrassment now. People like her probably weren’t used to making panicky mistakes.
“It’s okay. Better to be sure, right?”
She made a soft sound that might have been agreement or could just as easily have meant nothing at all. Hands tightly clenching her keys and cell phone, she led the way back through the garden and around the pool to the patio. There she glanced at the guesthouse with such a look of dismay on her face that he couldn’t help but say something.
“Hey, we’ve got a pizza in the car. Want to share it with us?” When she hesitated, he added, “It’s from Luigi’s. Even people who just pass through town know that Luigi makes the best pizza ever.”
Her smile was just a little one. “I know. I have cravings for it in Charleston.”
“It’s an extra-large supreme. We can bring it in or you’re welcome to come to our house.” Sensing her uncertainty, he grinned. “Come on, it’s Luigi’s.”
For a moment, her features tightened even more, then relaxed a little. “Sure,” she said, opening the door to allow him and Scooter inside. “Bring it in.”
Chapter 3
The instant the front door closed behind Stephen on his way to get the pizza, Macy grimaced. The last thing she wanted tonight was to have dinner with a stranger and his dog, even if it was a Luigi’s pizza.
No, the last thing she wanted was to be alone in this house. And with this being their third visit in one day, Stephen wasn’t exactly a stranger anymore. If he were a homicidal maniac—like Mark—he’d had enough chances at her already. And she liked his dog. Scooter was sweet and cuddly, and the Lab neither suspected nor cared that she was apparently delusional.
Her gut tightened, her stomach heaving so violently that she pressed one hand to her abdomen, the other to her mouth. Had she really seen someone in the guesthouse? Was she crazy? Was she already losing the balance she’d fought so hard to recover?
Since there was absolutely no sign of anyone having trespassed on the property, she couldn’t have seen someone, but she preferred to think she’d overreacted rather than imagined a threat. She was anxious about being here. Under the circumstances, who wouldn’t be?
She’d let memory get the best of her and made a fool of herself, but now it was over. At least she’d had the luck to find Stephen driving past and not one of the neighbors she knew, and enough control to stop him from calling the police. She didn’t know if her months in the psychiatric hospital were common knowledge in Copper Lake, but she