a stream of profanity? Reading about Hannah and Behr County had made Sassy feel connected to Trey in some small way. Sassy had checked out the book so many times the librarian had given it to her when she graduated from middle school.
The book was one of her most cherished possessions; she hid it on her bedroom bookshelf so Mama wouldn’t find it, safely tucked behind her copy of Beauty and the Beast, the 1963 edition illustrated by Hilary Knight, a Christmas gift from Daddy Joel.
Sassy looked upriver and down. No light. Panic skittered through her. She’d lost sight of the light when she’d waded into the fronds of bamboo. What if she couldn’t find it again?
Couldn’t? Negativity was so unbecoming. She’d find the light. The same instinct that led her unerringly to the newest and hottest designer items in her favorite shops would guide her to the house with a phone.
She struck out downstream. Picked her way along the rutted embankment. Scrambled over rocks and tree roots, around saplings, and through undergrowth. The ground gradually sloped downward, ending in a small clearing at the water’s edge. She was contemplating whether to backtrack when she spied a set of steps cut in the side of the mossy bank. At the foot of the stone steps was a wooden dock. Tied off to a post, a small boat rocked in the current. A light on a pole near the water struggled feebly against the thick darkness. This couldn’t be the luminous glimmer Sassy had seen from the woods. The light was too low in elevation and too dull.
She looked around, taking in the neat, well-maintained landing and surrounding grounds. Someone lived here, someone who took good care of the place. Sassy felt a thrill of elation. She’d made it. She was out of the woods.
A worn path ran from the riverbank up a steep, grassy hill. Sassy trudged up the slope, her leg muscles trembling from the long hike. At the top, she found a high, thorny hedge. The impenetrable bramble wall disappeared into the darkness.
A prickle of unease slithered down her spine. What was the purpose of that barbed barrier? Was the owner trying to keep someone in . . . or out?
For heaven’s sake, it was a hedge. The Randolphs lived next door to Mama and Daddy Joel. They had some perfectly huge leylandii bushes bordering their estate, and she’d never given them a second thought. It was about privacy and nothing more.
She hurried down the narrow lane that ran beside the spiny enclosure and came to a greenery arch. A twig gate artfully fashioned in the shape of a spider’s web provided entry to the property. The wrought-iron lamppost beside the gate was unlit. Sassy peered through the opening and saw a lush flower garden. Someone had a green thumb and a passion for growing things. Roses, wisteria, and honeysuckle scented the air. A white gravel walkway wound between blooming shrubs to the cottage beyond, a fairy-tale structure with ivy shrouded walls, deep-set windows, and a roof like a fallen cake.
The windows of the cottage were dark. No one was home. Disappointing, but she’d made it this far on her own. With any luck, the house would be unlocked. She would wait inside. The owner wouldn’t mind. Anyone who lived in such a darling little house had to be a sweetie pie.
Sassy unlatched the gate and slipped into the garden. Bushes lined the footpath, cleverly pruned to resemble animals. Here a sleek hound posed, legs outstretched, in pursuit of a startled hare. There a turtle swam through an airy sea. On the other side of the placid reptile, a large tabby lifted a greenery paw to wash its smiling face. Beyond the cat, a dragon spread an enormous pair of leafy wings. The effect was charming and altogether whimsical.
Or it might have been in the daylight. At night, the topiary animals appeared sinister and watchful. Sassy eyed the dwelling with misgiving, her disquiet returning. Up close, the gingerbread house didn’t seem quite as delightful. The empty windows stared at her like lidless eyes.
A metallic ping startled her, the sound loud in the hushed garden.
“It’s a wind chime, silly,” Sassy muttered. “You’re letting your imagination run away with you.”
She shook off her apprehension, marched past the frozen animal tableau and up to the front door.
She lifted the brass knocker and banged it against the painted wood. The sound echoed in the darkness.
“Hello? Is anyone home?” Sassy turned the handle