Shay closed her eyes and took a deep trembling breath.
She had known the drill from age fourteen. Self-control, that was the answer, not meds, to conquer her attacks. Time and self-awareness, those were the keys to control. She mustn’t allow small things to get the better of her. She needed to think, be reasonable, and logical. Consider that she was jumping to conclusions.
She let out her breath as a quiver of apprehension rippled over her skin. She resisted it, forcing herself instead to make a mental list of other possible answers for the presence of her night visitor.
She was so certain it was Eric. What if she was wrong? The person in the truck outside her cabin could have been anyone: a camper, a hunter, even a Peeping Tom. Besides, Prince had scared whoever it was away. If he came again, she’d call the sheriff’s office. Even if they didn’t believe her, someone would show up.
Shay breathed in again, slower and steadier.
Today was Saturday. She’d have to go back to work on Monday. She couldn’t afford to lose her position in a job market that wasn’t exactly overflowing with prospects.
Get your act together, Shayla Lynn Appleton.
Shay exhaled, longer and easier this time. She could feel her heart begin to slow. She was going to be fine. She just needed to believe it. Or fake it until she could make it a reality.
A sharp, high-pitched bark made her open her eyes.
Prince had come into the kitchen and was watching her from the threshold.
As she walked over to him, his tail began wagging. Then his head swung toward the front door, head cocked as if to listen.
Shay’s heart skipped as she followed his gaze. Then she spied his leash hanging by the door. “Oh, you’re just trying to remind me it’s time for our morning walk.”
Prince shot forward with a yelp of excitement.
“Good boy.”
It was clear that her pet was better trained than she was. He was trying his best to show her what he needed, but she still often misunderstood. Yet he’d acted without her direction last night, knowing instinctively that she was afraid of whatever was out there in the dark. She really did need to get them both to the doggy-training class she’d looked into, and soon. But not a fancy place like that Harmonie Kennels in Virginia that Angie had suggested she call.
“He’s got the attitude of a professional canine. Maybe he’s, like, a drug dog that’s been retired,” Angie had said after meeting Prince.
Angie, her one real friend, was like that, always seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary. Even so, Angie could be very persuasive. She kept mentioning this kennel she’d read about, supposedly the top place in the mid-Atlantic states. So, after arriving at the lake, Shay had called just to find out how much the training would cost.
The woman who answered had been much too nosy for Shay’s liking, asking if her shelter dog had any distinguishing markings or ID tag. That’s when it hit her that the woman who had brought Prince to the shelter might not have been entirely honest. If something was amiss, she might lose him. So she had hung up quickly, sorry she’d made the call.
As Shay came up behind him, Prince began pawing at the door, making little excited whimpering sounds.
“Fine, but you’ll have to slow your pace this time.” She pulled back the dead bolts then reached for the doorknob with one hand and his leash with the other. “Yesterday you nearly— Oh!”
One moment she and Prince were alone. The next she was staring into the gaze of one very stern-looking man in camo.
CHAPTER TWO
“Excuse me, ma’am. I need to talk with you. Now.”
The man’s tone left no room for debate as his combat-booted foot moved to block any idea Shay might have about closing her door. “Step back into the room and leave your hands where I can see them.”
“What?” Shay stared stupidly at her assailant. She should be terrified but in some distant place the situation hadn’t caught up with her head. Not when Prince had rushed forward and was jumping and yipping and play-pawing her attacker’s arm as if this were some sort of game.
Finally, she said the only thing that came to mind. “Prince, down!”
To her surprise, the dog paused and looked at her. “Heel,” she commanded, and pointed at a spot on the floor beside her right leg.
Prince moved dutifully over to her side and sat down, heavy tail thumping out a staccato rhythm of high spirits. She gripped a handful of his fur, just behind the collar, feeling the warmth of the animal as proof they were okay. This was another of Eric’s sick campaigns to frighten her, she told herself. Like the night before. Only this time she’d had enough. Hiring a thug to scare her was one step too far, even for him.
All the anger of the night before came roaring back as she looked up into the scowling face of the man accosting her.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, scaring my dog like that?”