thrust the covers back and sprang from the bed, ignoring the panic showering down on her. Her son lay sleeping in the next room, twenty feet from whatever menace had just entered their haven. She snatched her phone from the nightstand and paused at the doorway to peer down the hall. A flashlight beam made wide sweeps of her living and dining area. As long as he didn’t shine it down the hall... God, please protect us.
As she crept toward Jayden’s room, her heart pounded against her ribs, and her breath came in shallow gasps. Once inside, she silently closed the door and turned the lock. A night-light cast its dim glow through the room, over the sleeping form of her precious little boy. She needed to call 911 without alerting the intruder or awakening Jayden. Maybe from inside the closet.
Nestled between his clothes and a stack of toy-filled crates, she touched the three numbers. Moments later, a soothing voice came through the phone, and the panic she had managed to hold at bay broke through its bounds. Her words tumbled out in a harsh whisper, and she began to shake.
“Help me, please. Someone’s in my house.”
After verifying the address and promising that help was on the way, the dispatcher stayed on the line offering words of encouragement. They did nothing to still her pounding heart or calm her frayed nerves.
When she emerged from the closet, Jayden stirred, and she moved to the side of his bed. If he woke up, she would have to keep him quiet. He didn’t talk unless prompted, but he sometimes cried. As she watched, he drew in a deep breath and let out a sigh, then returned to the rhythmic breathing of sleep.
“Are you still there?” The dispatcher’s question cut across her thoughts.
“Yes.” She spoke in the softest whisper.
“The police should be there any minute.”
She swallowed past the lump of fear that had congealed in her throat and mentally ticked through the items in Jayden’s room. If only she had something she could use to defend them.
Jayden had a bat and a baseball. Unfortunately, they were made of plastic. And he had a pistol, but it shot foam Nerf balls. Her best bet was to pray that the intruder didn’t kick down the door before the police arrived.
Sirens sounded in the distance, and she sagged against the wall. A few more minutes. Actually, the intruder had likely already run out the back door.
The squeal grew louder then died. Law enforcement was out front. She released a pent-up breath. Once the officers were inside and she knew for sure the intruder was gone, she would open the bedroom door.
Jayden sat up suddenly and climbed from the bed. She circled around and caught him before he reached the door.
“Sweetheart?”
He turned toward her, his eyes wide in the dim glow of the night-light.
“Mommy’s right here.” She picked him up and held him against her chest. Little arms went around her neck, and she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the berry scent of his shampoo.
In another part of the house, the sliding glass door slid back farther in its track and footsteps sounded against the vinyl floor, multiple sets this time.
The last of the tension fled. She thanked the dispatcher and ended the call. A few minutes later, a knock on Jayden’s door accompanied a deep male voice.
“Levy County Sheriff’s. Everything’s clear. It’s all right to come out.”
When she emerged from the room, two deputies stood in the hall. The older one smiled down at her. “Are you all right?”
“A bit shaken up, but fine otherwise.” She squeezed Jayden more tightly.
“And the little guy’s okay?”
She returned the deputy’s smile. “He didn’t wake up until you guys got here.”
He stepped back to let her pass. “We need you to look around and see if anything is missing.”
She made her way toward the living room. She wouldn’t bother checking her room. If the intruder had come down the hall, she would have heard him. Except for the two bedrooms, the vinyl tile ran throughout the house.
She stepped into the combined living and dining area. The deputies had turned on the lights. Envelopes lay strewn about the small dining room table. She pointed that direction.
“They went through my mail.” When she’d laid it there, it had been stacked in one neat pile. But as near as she could tell, they hadn’t taken any of it.
She circled the kitchen, still holding Jayden. All the cabinet doors and drawers were closed, just as she’d left them. So far, nothing appeared disturbed, other than her mail. She crossed the room to the living area. Six files sat in a stack on the coffee table. Except they weren’t as neat as when she’d gone to bed. It was as if someone had checked the labels, sliding each file over a half inch to see the label beneath.
She nodded toward the stack. “I think he touched these.”
“What’s in them?”
“They’re vendor and customer files, work I brought home with me yesterday.” Hopefully, he wouldn’t press her further.
Before leaving the office, she’d pulled files for four other customers and two vendors who had asked her out, just in case the mystery man was someone other than Fuller. If Claire had stumbled across Wiggins’s secrets, the proof was likely contained in the paperwork at the mine. But after poring over each file and researching the companies online, she’d come up with nothing.
And her attempts to call Claire weren’t any more successful. She couldn’t even leave a message. After Claire’s outgoing message, a computerized voice announced that the mailbox was full.
Darci sighed and met the older deputy’s eyes. “I don’t understand how they got in.”
“Through the slider.”
She had guessed that much. “But I had it locked.”
“It wasn’t very secure.” He led her back through the dining area to the door. “I would recommend getting a Charley-Bar. Or at the least have someone drill a hole and put a pin through here.” He indicated a point several inches from the top, where the frames of the two doors crossed.
“I’ll do that.” And the sooner the better. She’d never been nervous about staying alone. But knowing someone had come into her house while she and Jayden slept changed everything.
The deputy moved to unlock the front door. “We’ll dust the slider for prints, along with your dining room table and coffee table. And we’ll see what we can pick up on your mail and files while we’re at it.” He swung the door open and turned back around. “Any idea who might have done this?”
Her gaze traveled back to the files sitting on the coffee table. Wiggins. He wouldn’t have done it himself, but he was behind it. After slipping the files into her bag, she had glanced up to see him standing in her doorway. She’d hoped he hadn’t seen anything.
Apparently he had.
She
