A Wild Ride (Jessica Brodie Diaries #3)(27)

It was dark. Because it was night.

C’mon brain, fire up!

The moon was slim, so not much light illuminated the pool or surrounding grass. Nothing moved, not even flowers. The night was still and quiet.

I really wished it would’ve been kids trying to drape toilette paper across my cottage.

Fred’s growl got louder.

I hurried back downstairs, trying not to tip-toe since it was hard in running shoes, and crossed the front door to the laundry room. I knew it had blinds and I didn’t want to go sticking my big head in the window for someone to see and shoot at. Or even know I was here.

I peeped again. Still and quiet. The darkness pressed down on the tree line.

How the hell could Fred know something was wrong unless he heard or saw it? Or smelt it? If he did any of those things, it was probably because the intruder was close. If the intruder was close, I should see the sucker.

As if in answer, he stopped growling.

I listened.

Suddenly the night was unnaturally quiet. It felt like the air was pressing in on me from all sides.

I took a big, steadying breath and stared at Fred. He was standing still, sniffing. He took a few steps toward me, then trotted out of the room.

Damn it Fred!

Trying to get my heart back to normal, I went back to the reading room and grabbed my phone. Why I thought running shoes were more important than a phone just showed how off-line my brain was.

Trying to dial with shaking hands, I got the line ringing, hoping Lump was at Gladis’s. It rang out. But then, it was close to twelve, and she didn’t answer the phone to me if she was sleeping unless I called a million times, so that wasn’t a big deal.

Deciding to head to bed, I walked down the hallway and into my room. A hulking shape jumped down from my bed.

I screamed and ran—into the door frame! I pushed myself off and got into the hallway when Fred ran past and waited for me at the top of the stairs.

My breath was ragged, my heart trying to escape the confines of my ribs. I gripped the banister with white-knuckles, seriously thinking about kicking the damn dog.

“You scared the God-damned shit out of me!”

Fred started growling again and ran downstairs.

“God damn Fred.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Maybe Fred just needed to poop really bad. A deeply potty trained dog could get really upset if he needed to poop and he was inside.

Right? I think I heard that somewhere…

Hands shaking harder, I dialed Adam as I made my way downstairs. Fred was in the living room at a window, growling louder than I had ever heard him. Ever.

Adam’s phone rang out.

To call Gladis or not to call Gladis—what the hell could she do? She couldn’t even hit Lump with a tennis ball and all her people were 800 years old!

Police?

What would I say—Hello, officer, I’ve been reading mysteries without my boyfriend and my dog started growling. Could you come have a look? I’ll lock myself inside until you give the all-clear, mmmkay?

I called Adam again. Then Lump. Then Adam. Then Lump.

I figured if they were together I would be really, really annoying about now.

Fred stopped growling again. The silence was absolute. No crickets. No night birds. The people in Gladis’s house could probably hear my heart beating.

Where the hell are the crickets?

“Jessica, what the f**k do you want?” Lump asked angrily on the next call.

“Um, hi, not sure, but—“

“Are you drunk?”

“N-no.” My voice was shaking.

Fred sprinted through the house. I turned my body to face the back door, where he started growling in fluctuating, angry noises. Another jolt of pure terror flashed through my midsection.

“Can I talk to Adam?”

“Are you serious right now? Why do you want to talk to Adam?”

“I was just wondering how serious it is if Fred growls? I can’t remember exactly what William said.”

“Jess, he’s a damn dog. They growl. We’re right in the middle—“ Lump made a sound like a distant Ow!

“Jess.” It was Adam. “Did you say Fred was growling?”

“Y-yeah. Is that bad? Are you at the Big House?”

Fred came back to the living room, his growl taking up all the breathing room in the house. He leaned his lithe body against my legs, his back looking like a black, short-haired porcupine.

“I don’t know if there is someone there—I didn’t see anyone—but Fred has been growling off and on.” I took a breath. “I’m scared, a little.”

“You sound more than a little scared. Tell me what happened.”

I started to, but before I got very far Fred took off running. Halfway through the house, he dramatically changed directions, heading right back for me. If a dog could scream out a growl, Fred would’ve been doing it.

“Is that Fred?” Adam asked, fear ebbing his words.

“So it is bad,” I whined.

“It’s okay, Jess. It’s fine. Are you inside?”

“Yes. Doors are locked. Didn’t see anyone.” Fred crossed to the front door, which was about five feet from where I was standing.

“Jess, we’re going to head to you, okay? Everything is probably fine. It is probably a couple kids wantin’ to take a dip in the pool.”