Debra Webb - John Doe on Her Doorstep

Since the house sat empty more often than not, that was bound to happen, especially since it was just her now. She doubted she would be able to get back here for more than a few days at a time. She wondered if her father had lived if he’d have eventually gotten a dog. A pet would have kept him company since he’d taken up permanent residence on the ranch after retiring. It was only natural to have a dog in the country, wasn’t it? For lots of reasons other than security.

I think we’re in trouble.

Dani forced the unbidden thought away. She didn’t want to think about that any more tonight. She didn’t know what the file was about and there was no reason for her to need to know. Her father had stood steadfastly by that government rule. She never knew anything of his work except on the occasions when he was honored for some undisclosed milestone.

She rinsed her dishes and loaded the dishwasher. There wasn’t a full load yet so she opted not to start the cycle. Time for that bath now. Hopefully the hot water would melt away the rest of her tension. The wine she’d had with her meal was already making her feel warm inside.

She poured herself another glass and sipped it thoughtfully as she walked from the kitchen to the entry hall. The light from the kitchen lit her way well enough that she didn’t bother with the hall light. She shifted her glass to her left hand and started unbuttoning her blouse with her right.

If she was lucky, there might be one more envelope of raspberry-scented bath salts. God, that would be heavenly, she thought as she rounded the newel post at the bottom of the stairs.

She stilled when she would have taken the first step up. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She swallowed, then turned around slowly. Very slowly.

Someone stood in the shadows shrouding the front door.

Tall. A man. Her heart stalled in midbeat.

God, why hadn’t she locked the front door? Because no one around here locked doors.

He stepped out of the darkness. The dim glow that reached this end of the hall highlighted the chiseled features of his face. His clothing was torn and disheveled. Blood. Dried blood stained the right shoulder of his khaki shirt.

Dani’s eyes widened in fear. The urge to scream climbed into her throat.

She had to run. As if he’d read her mind, a strong hand snaked out and manacled her wrist.

She opened her mouth to cry out.

He swayed. She gasped, and then he crumpled to the floor.

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