It was almost May, and it was still snowing. Daisy made a face at the fat flakes clinging to the window. It wasn’t like she had to go out into the snow, but she hated that it drove everyone else inside. With her neighbors sheltering against the cold, her special version of reality television had been reduced to what she could see through the windows of the few houses in her line of sight.
There was no use whining about it, though. It would have to do until spring finally came to the Rockies.
She peered through the curtain of snow at the house directly across the street. It looked like most of the Storvicks were in their family room, watching a movie. Only the oldest son, Corbin, was missing. Daisy spotted him through one of the upstairs windows, talking on a cell phone while pacing his bedroom. From the way he yanked on his hair with his free hand, there was more drama happening between him and the tall, redheaded girl who visited his house on an off-again/on-again basis.
As she watched the teenager end the call by throwing his phone against the wall, Daisy leaned closer to the window, making a mental note to tell Chris that Corbin and his girlfriend were fighting again. Last time they’d split, Corbin had spray-painted misspelled epithets on the girl’s garage door. Daisy wasn’t sure why his girlfriend had taken him back after that. Maybe Corbin was a good apologizer.
Since the teen had crammed in his earbuds and thrown himself on his bed, Daisy figured he’d be moping for at least a few hours. With the excitement at the Storvick house over for the night, she checked out Ian Walsh’s place. To her disappointment, the new shutters were closed, blocking her view.
The window coverings and the girlfriend had been installed around the same time. Although she was happy that Ian had found someone, those shutters had put a definite damper on any vicarious thrills. Firefighter Ian Walsh had been in the habit of walking around in nothing but boxer briefs, and Daisy missed her personal Chippendales show.
The house to the right of the Storvicks’, 304 Alpine Lane, was empty and had been for almost eight months. The for-sale sign was looking a little faded, especially with the frosting of new, bright-white snow lining the top. Daisy wished someone would move in soon and give her one more channel of neighbor TV. It looked like tonight’s entertainment would be a book or the Internet, neither of which excited her.
With a resigned sigh, she started to turn away from the window, but a movement in her peripheral vision brought Daisy’s focus back to the empty house. She squinted through the falling snow. There might have been a flicker of motion by the back corner of the house, but the darkness and the veil of snow made it hard to see. As her gaze traveled over the shadowed edges of the yard, she shivered and wrapped her arms around her middle. Without any moonlight, the forest on the far side of number 304 disappeared into absolute blackness. Anything or anyone could be lurking just past the tree line, and Daisy would never know.
Dragging her gaze away from the encompassing darkness, she forced herself to leave her window seat.
“No more horror movies for you,” she muttered under her breath. Ever since her friend, Chris, had told her about the headless body found in a nearby reservoir a few months ago, Daisy had been even more on edge than usual. As she scanned her bookcase for something light and funny to read, Daisy couldn’t help shooting a wary glance at the window. There were dangerous, terrifying things in the world beyond the safe walls and locked doors of her home. She knew this all too well. If she let herself dwell on those horrors, though, the nightmares would get even worse.
Picking one of her comfort reads, Daisy sat on her bed with her back toward the window. As she started on the first chapter, she was quickly lost in the book, and Daisy was almost able to shove away any worries about the unknown dangers creeping around outside her safe haven.
Almost.
*
Daisy recognized the knock, but she still pushed the intercom button. Messing with Chris was one of her few pleasures in life.
“May I help you?”
“Dais. Let me in.” He sounded crabby. That was unusual.
“Is that how you announce yourself? Shouldn’t you be shouting ‘Sheriff’s department’ or something?”
“I’m not serving a warrant.” Chris was definitely cranky. “If you don’t let me in right now, you’re not getting your very heavy present.”