bedrooms, or right to the open living room and kitchen. Either way, left my back exposed.

Decisions, decisions.

Knowing I could clear two rooms in one shot, I went right. Keeping my

spine to the wall, I stopped at the arch into the living room, and snuck a quick

glance around the corner.

Nothing but familiar furniture in the living room and an empty kitchen.

Spotting Kelsey’s sunglasses and keys by the blinking answering machine on the

counter reinforced my unease.

With her keys and car here, where the hell was she?

Trying not to panic, I turned and cautiously rushed toward the bedrooms on

the other side of the hall. The two bedrooms were split by a bathroom. I cleared

the one serving as my office first, and then closed the door behind me.

Creeping past the bathroom, the partially open door to my bedroom

beckoned. Nerves and dread tangled together, squeezing my lungs tight and

causing a fine tremor in the hand holding the makeshift brass knuckles. The sense of foreboding paralyzed me. Just because I couldn’t see the threat, didn’t

make it any less real.

The AC kicked on and the overly loud snick of the front door being sucked

closed had an undignified eep escaping. I swiveled toward the noise, my pulse spiking hard, only to leave me lightheaded.

I leaned against the wall, deliberately loosening my grip on the metal keys biting into my palm. A variety of awful images played through my mind,

offering a horrific selection of what could lurk in my room. My hand shook, and

I used the back of my fist to wipe away the cold sweat beading my forehead.

Pull your shit together, woman.

Taking a deep breath, I shoved my imagination down, stiffened my spine,

and forced my feet to move forward. Pressing against the door, it slowly swung

open. The blinds were half pulled, and the afternoon sunlight spilled across an open suitcase sitting on my king bed. A discarded shirt lay half hung on a hanger

with Kelsey’s hobo bag peeking out from under it. In the dresser, one of the drawers was lolling open.

I stepped into the room. “Kels?” I kept my voice low and quiet, as if it would really bring Kelsey out from under the bed or out of the closet. The room remained frustratingly silent.

The uneasiness continued to play havoc on my nerves, while my helpless

frustration graduated to a simmering anger.

What in the hell was going on? Where was she? Maybe her stalker hadgrabbed her? Or had she run out into the woods like the too-stupid-to-livewomen in the cheesy horror flicks she loved so much?

That last thought left me shaking my head. Kelsey wouldn’t run, she’d stand

and fight. An unfortunate trait, according to our adoptive parents, we both shared. I needed more information.

I stuffed my keys into my pocket, but kept my walking stick close. It made a

great security blanket. I might be the only person in the house, but it didn’t stop

me from going back and conducting a more thorough search.

After clearing the house once more, I stood in the living room, as worry cracked my interior barriers letting the fear slither through. There were no glaring clues for me to follow. Kelsey was just gone. If wasn’t for the fact her cell was on the kitchen counter, I would’ve called her carrier to trace her GPS.

For the first time, the concept of tagging people with GPS chips sounded good.

Another solution rose and for a brief moment I considered calling on old acquaintances in shadowy places for a few favors. I nixed that idea in the bud. If

I popped back up on the radar, there would be too many questions to answer. I

wasn’t that desperate. Yet.

Which left me with what?

I tapped the end of my staff against the floor. Looking around, a nebulous plan began to form. There was one option, and as much as I didn’t relish the idea, it was one I could use. With no other solutions on the horizon, the question

of whether or not it would work remained beside the point.

I tightened my grip on the staff, and then headed back toward my room. With

each step my stomach lurched, and cotton filled my mouth, but this was my best

chance at finding Kelsey. I left the staff propped just inside the door and crossed

to my bed. My fingers stroked over her shirt as I found the courage to take the

next step. Months has passed since the last time I tried this. Knowing what needed to be done and doing it were two very different things.

I slowly sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers crushing the soft material, and

the light scent Kelsey wore brushed me. Even that small comfort couldn’t