She Can Hide (She Can #4)(60)

“Either is fine.” Abby stood and let him steer her out of the building. “I need some fresh clothes and dog food. I’d also like to pick up the rental car.”

“You could just return it.” He climbed into his truck.

“I’d rather keep it for now,” Abby said. “Hopefully, this will all be over soon.”

“Maybe,” Ethan agreed. Optimism was a good sign. Unless she wanted the car because she was planning to go somewhere without him. Wait. Why read into her response? Last night they’d crossed a line. Their relationship was no longer professional or casual. She’d let him see her most terrifying secrets. She’d let him in. She’d trusted him. Surely she wouldn’t break that trust now. Not after what had passed between them.

He drove to Abby’s house. Night had descended on the small neighborhood. Abby’s house was dark.

Ethan made a U-turn and parked at the curb.

Her face was pale, her eyes wide with alarm. Was she afraid to go in?

“What’s wrong?” He touched her arm. She jumped.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Eyes glazed, she shook her head. “The lights aren’t on.”

Ethan followed her gaze to the dark house. “Should they be?”

“Yes. They’re set on timers.”

“That’s right. You told me that last night.” The hair on Ethan’s neck quivered. He glanced at the surrounding houses. “It looks like the whole neighborhood is down. Probably a blown transformer.”

Why hadn’t he noticed? Moonlight reflecting off the snow-covered ground brightened the evening and camouflaged the lack of electricity.

“I’ll check it out. You stay in the car and lock the doors.”

“No.” She grabbed the door handle and opened the door. “I can’t wait here by myself in the dark.”

Oh. He squeezed her hand. “OK, we’ll stay together.”

There was as much determination as fear in Abby’s face. Her gloved hands shook, and in the gray moonlight, her face was as pale as the icy sidewalk. She was working hard to control her terror, but her body looked like the wind whipping off the street could knock her over.

She got out of the car. Zeus whined. “You stay here.” She closed the door, leaving the dog in the truck.

“You really think anyone would mess with him?” Ethan asked.

“Probably not.”

“He’d know if anything was wrong before we would.” Zeus was also big enough to eat an intruder in a few juicy bites.

Abby shook her head. “I can’t predict how he’ll react. He’s agitated.” She swallowed. “Plus, you said dogs can be poisoned or shot.”

“Yes, I did.” And he was a dumbass for pointing that out to her. She didn’t need any more worries. “All right, but stay behind me and do exactly what I say.”

She nodded, but Ethan didn’t have much confidence in her agreement. He’d asked her to stay behind at Roy Abrams’s house too, and look what that request had gotten him. She’d followed him to chase down a killer.

He tucked her behind him and walked toward the front door, heartbeats pounding in his ears. Abby’s breaths were too rapid and shallow.

“Breathe,” he whispered, putting a hand on her arm. Her body trembled.

She drew in a long, shaky breath, and then gave him a short nod. Ethan released her elbow and tuned his ears to the night sounds as they climbed the concrete steps to the front porch. The house was silent.

Ethan held out a hand. “Keys.”

Abby fished in her pocket and dumped her keychain into his open palm. As Ethan took it, he closed his fingers around hers and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Their gazes met. Emotion flashed in her eyes. She blinked it away and nodded toward the door.

Right. Get your head out of your ass and back in the game.

Ethan unlocked the door and eased it open. Nothing but quiet greeted them.

“I’m going to check the house,” he said.

“All right.” Abby’s teeth were chattering.

Leading with the flashlight, Ethan led the way into the living room. The room was warm, so the electricity hadn’t been out for long. He checked the house room-by-room, looking under every piece of furniture and checking every closet. Lastly, he passed through the kitchen and utility room into a garage too narrow to park anything in but the most compact of cars. Ethan gave the room a quick sweep of his flashlight beam. The space was fairly neat, except for an array of plastic bottles. Either Abby liked to shoot for the recycling container and had terrible aim or the big bucket had been knocked over. But there wasn’t anyone skulking behind Abby’s bike or trash can.

He returned to the living room. Abby had pulled a couple of camp lanterns from her closet, and the room was awash in their soft glow. She was on her cell phone.

“Everything looks fine.”

She ended her call. “The outage is isolated to this neighborhood. The power company is already working on it. A tree took out a transformer.”

“I’ll get Zeus and your bag. Why don’t you start gathering what you want to take with you?”

But Abby followed him out onto the porch. Ethan realized with a tightening of his chest that she couldn’t stay in the mostly dark house by herself. He opened the truck door and flipped the front seat forward. The dog barreled out. Ethan made a grab for his leash, but the massive canine moved faster than he expected.