The leaves rustled ominously as he lifted his head. She stared up at him in the moonlight. His eyes were a dark midnight blue, his hair glinted with silver, his face was tight with expectation. God, he was beautiful.
She slid her own hands down his chest and lower, over his ribs, along his abdomen, her fingers dipping lower until above her, he sucked in his breath and said, “Yes, oh, yes.”
The dog had gone mute.
A thick, dark cloud blocked the moon and suddenly she saw an orange glow on the horizon. A dull roar reached her ears and suddenly smoke filled her lungs, burned her eyes. Trees—their trunks black silhouettes against an ever-moving, relentless, angry wall of flames—surrounded her.
Fire!
She looked up at her lover but he was gone, had disappeared like a puff of smoke.
The fire raged. Hot. Angry. Closer.
And she was alone.
Shannon’s eyes flew open. The scream forming on her lips died. Heart still beating wildly, adrenaline thrumming through her veins, she recognized her bedroom, saw the sun streaming through the windows, glanced at the bedside clock and groaned. It was after eight. For the first time since the attack she’d slept soundly.
Until the dream had brought her to consciousness. This time there was no fire, no lingering scent of smoke. The conflagration had all been in her subconscious. Thank God.
Pushing herself up in the bed, swinging her bare legs over the side, she considered the dream where she’d nearly made love to a man, a strange man. As the dream was unfolding she’d thought the man had been Travis Settler; she’d responded to him as if they were already intimate, as if they truly were lovers.
“Jesus,” she whispered and Khan, nestled in the covers, lifted his head and yawned. Downstairs the puppy whined. “Better get up.” Stretching, she thought of the dream again. Had Travis been the man lying naked with her? It seemed so real and yet…The facial features of the man who had been touching her, had inspired such lust in her, were blurred.
Faceless.
Nameless.
“You’re a head case,” she told herself and glanced at the picture of Dani Settler propped up against her bedside lamp. She picked up the page and sighed, the weight of the world once again settling on her shoulders. “We’ll find you,” she said to the photograph of the smiling girl, and hoped she wasn’t lying.
She threw on jeans and a sweatshirt, turned on the coffeemaker, then took care of the dogs including the new little puppy, who couldn’t seem to get enough of the puppy kibblets she had on hand. “What is it?” she asked the little one when Skatooli had finished the last morsel and looked upward in anticipation of more food. “Didn’t Alexi ever feed you?” She held the puppy for a while, then walked her outside before returning her to her pen and tackling chores that included taking care of the other dogs. They too were fed and given fresh water, then Shannon worked with each animal and finally, hosed out their runs.
By the time she was finished it was after eleven and her own stomach was grumbling. Upon returning to the kitchen, she discovered four phone messages, two from her mother asking her to come to a “family meeting” around five.
“Sounds like a blast,” Shannon muttered under her breath. The third call was from a woman looking for a place to board her dog and the fourth was from Anthony Paterno, the lead detective in Mary Beth’s homicide. He asked her to call him back and set up a time for an interview. “More fun,” she muttered, but punched in his number and when he didn’t answer, left a message.
She’d just hung up the phone when she spied Nate crossing the parking lot and heading toward the house. A few seconds later he rapped on the back door, pushed it open and toed off his boots.
“Just thought I’d check on you,” he said, flashing a smile. “How ya feeling?”
“Better. At least physically.” Her ribs still hurt, and the stitches in her head were starting to itch, but the blinding headaches had abated. Her shoulder ached but the pain wasn’t unbearable. “It’s still hard to think about Mary Beth.”
He nodded and she decided to change the subject as she reached into the cupboard for a couple of mugs. “How about coffee?”
“Sounds good.” He walked into the kitchen in his stocking feet and stared down at the puppy, who, meeting his gaze, wagged her tail. “She needs a new name, you know.”
Shannon waited as Nate picked up the puppy in his big hands and was rewarded with a face washing.
“And why is that?”
Nate smothered a smile. “I don’t think she likes to be called Little Shit.”
“What?”
“That’s a loose translation of Skatooli.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I checked it out on the Internet.” He replaced the pup in her pen, ignored her whines and even managed to give Khan some badly needed attention. “Maybe some people think it’s cute, but personally, I think you can do better.”