Somehow he flipped her, trapping her arms beneath her body.
“Just wanted you to see what’s going to happen,” he growled.
Face turned to one side, she focused on her bedside stand. He was barely visible out of the corner of her eye. Then fear ran through her. A pillar candle sat in a small dish.
“Sorry, babe, you’re gonna knock over this candle. Throw yourself off the bed to grab it, but on the way down, you hit your head on the corner here.” Thick fingers encased in white latex caressed the edge of her bedside stand. “It’s a shame you brought a couple days’ newspapers with you to bed to catch up on.”
“Nobody will believe—”
His laugh was ugly. He grabbed a handful of her hair and used it to drag her from the bed.
“Lights out,” he said, and slammed her head down on the sharp corner.
* * *
ZACH RAN FOR the garage, impatient with the length of time it took the door to rise.
Tess’s mower was still in the bed of his truck. He’d planned to unload it in the morning and not even noticed it when he’d left her house a few hours ago. It would give him an excuse to go back, he thought.
He barely slowed for stop signs, hoping not to see flashing lights in his rearview mirror. Having to pull over, even wait while a ticket was written, would be an unendurable delay.
Of course, when he reached her house, driving slowly by, it was dark except for the porch light. Back one was on, too, he could tell.
She did have the cameras, he reminded himself. Neighbors. Annoyingly enough, none of whom seemed to own a dog or else the dogs were brought inside at night. The times he’d come and gone on foot in the dark, he hadn’t once heard any barking.
He circled the block, uneasily noting half a dozen vehicles parked at the curb rather than in driveways or garages. This wasn’t a neighborhood with three-car garages. Teenagers would have to park on the street rather than in the driveway if their parents left first in the morning.
He especially noted a couple of SUVs—even paused to jot down license plates from two that were large and dark. But, face it, half the vehicles on the road these days were full-size or crossover SUVs.
Finally he chose a place to park, not quite in front of her house but with a decent view of it. He touched his Glock, lying on the passenger seat beside him. Despite the chill, he rolled down his window so he could hear anything untoward.
Then he struggled to stay awake.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE NIGHT AIR was cold enough to keep him awake, thank God. Zach turned off the dome light, in case he saw something and wanted to get out surreptitiously.
A light came on in Tess’s house, barely visible toward the back. It wasn’t bright. A bedside lamp, he thought. Her bedroom. She was probably getting up to use the bathroom.
He relaxed slightly, rolling his shoulders to release tension. A minute or two passed.
The light seemed to flicker. Bulb burning out? Or she’d turned it off and then back on quickly? At the thought that she couldn’t sleep, guilt stabbed him.
But as he watched, the quality of the light seemed to change from a soft, pale glow to...orange. Jesus. Fire! Gaining strength with shocking speed.
Zach grabbed his handgun, shoved it into his waistband at the small of his back and jumped out of the pickup. Just as his feet hit the pavement, he heard what he thought was a door closing somewhere nearby.
He ran for the house, vaulting her picket fence and hardly feeling the shrubs scrape at him. Almost to her porch steps, he paused long enough to pull his phone from his pocket and dial 911.
“Fire,” he said hoarsely, and gave the address. “Hurry.”
A shape burst from the dark on the other side of the house. Somebody, dressed in black, running away. For a fraction of a second Zach was torn. He could catch that scum, tackle him, cuff him—but Tess would still be inside.
* * *
DESPITE AGONIZING PAIN in her head, Tess struggled to open her eyes.
Have to.
A different kind of pain licked at her arm. Burning.
Fire! The word exploded in her head and she opened her eyes a slit. She lay on the floor and saw flames leaping across it. Now her quilt caught. Oh, God. Oh, God. She hurt. Her stomach heaved. She clumsily lifted a hand to her head where she discovered her hair was...wet.