Which was impossible.
They never left the door unlocked, much less open. The house had an alarm, but most of the time no one remembered to set it after Clara and Tom left for the cottage. He cursed himself beneath his breath; he should have thought of that and seen to it himself.
From where he was standing he could see that the cottage was dressed with holiday lights, and that the drapes in the downstairs had been left open, so he could see Tom and Clara’s Christmas tree blinking merrily away.
The wind rose again.
Branches brushed against the house.
The door was nearly ripped from his hands.
He walked back in, closing the door firmly, then locking it. And setting the alarm.
When he got back to the foyer, he saw that Sean O’Riley was up and out of bed in his pajamas. Kat was standing at a distance, tense as her namesake on the proverbial hot tin roof. Caer was in her blue nightgown, like a dark angel, and Bridey had come down the stairs to join everyone.
Amanda stood by Sean; his arm was draped around her, but Zach had the feeling that Amanda had been the one to take his arm and put it over her shoulders.
“Well?” Sean asked.
“I don’t know,” Zach told him flatly. “I didn’t see anyone. The back door was wide open, but it doesn’t look as if anything was disturbed. I’ll call the police.”
“You will not call the police, Zach.”
“Sean—” he began.
But Sean was adamant. “Every single body in this house was creeping around. Someone didn’t close the door properly, that’s all.”
“Clara,” Amanda said with a sigh. “Sean, I think she’s just getting too old.”
“Too old for what, Amanda?” Kat asked. “Dad, she isn’t any older than you are, is she?”
“It’s not the age, it’s the mileage, and Clara is showing her mileage,” Amanda said, holding her temper and not matching the sarcasm that had slipped into Kat’s voice.
“Clara is a member of the family,” Bridey said. “And that’s that,” she added firmly. “Besides, Clara didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Well, if someone didn’t break in, then someone did leave the door open,” Amanda said flatly. “And that someone had to have been Clara.”
“No,” Bridey said.
They all looked at her.
“There’s a banshee in the house,” she said, looking around at all of them, shaking her head slightly and smiling, as if they were children and wouldn’t understand. “Haven’t you felt it?” she whispered softly.
Cal silently set his boots by the back door, praying that he could hold the door against the wind, then close it silently. He let out a sigh of relief when he managed to do so.
What a nasty night, he thought. Maybe the weathermen had it wrong again and there was a storm coming in. They had said that it would be a windy night, but that the morning would dawn clear and cold. He locked the door, glad to hear the bolt slide quietly.
Then he tiptoed into the living room.
And went dead still.
There was someone in his house, standing right in front of him.
A scream rose in his throat and burst free just as a person in front of him let loose with an even louder scream.
He reached blindly for the light switch behind him and realized as the lights came on that he’d just been terrified half to death by his wife.
She was clearly as astonished as he was, staring at him wide-eyed, her mouth still open as if she were about to scream again.
Her boots were standing by the front door, and he realized that she, too, had just come in, and had been tiptoeing toward their bedroom in her stocking feet just as he had been.
“You scared me to death,” he told her.
“Me? I just about had a heart attack,” she told him.
They stared at one another for a long moment. Then he frowned and asked, “Where were you? When did you go out? Why did you go out?”
Her eyes opened wider, and then she frowned. “Wait a minute. Where were you? When did you go out, and why?”
“I heard a…noise,” he said. “A moaning. I thought someone was hurt in our backyard.”
She let out a sigh. “I heard it, too,” she told him. “I thought it was coming from the front yard, and quite honestly, I thought it was a wounded hyena, from the way it sounded.” She laughed then with relief. “Oh, Cal.” She hurried to him, nuzzling into his neck. “I thought you were sound asleep. I was scared, but I thought someone was hurt, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
He pulled her against him. “My brave girl. I thought you were sound asleep. Let’s check the locks and go to bed.”
She smiled. “I have a better idea. I’m freezing, and that wind is still blowing like a mother. Let’s make a couple of hot toddies and then go to bed.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I can one up that. Let’s check the locks, make hot toddies, go to bed and fool around. And then sleep late. And screw the business.”