both hands around his mug and lean forward, elbows and forearms resting on the table. “What happened tonight?”
“I’m sure Harlan has already told you,” she replied, making a face. “I probably couldn’t sneeze without you showing up to hand me a hanky.”
“That’s because I care, Maggie. We both do.”
Flint hadn’t moved, yet seemed closer somehow. She nodded. “I’m getting that idea.”
A snort of amusement from the older man didn’t help Maggie’s mood. When she tried to glare at him and saw his comical expression, she found herself snickering instead.
“All right, all right.” She took a sip of coffee and leaned back in her chair to claim a little distance. “The sheriff has the mistaken idea I may have imagined it, but I know I didn’t. Wolfie went nuts and Mark said he saw somebody, too.”
“Did he recognize the prowler?”
She made a face at Flint before replying, “No. But he did tell me later that the guy was ugly. Wolfie charged at him, sounding like he was about to eat him for supper, and the man knocked me down in his rush to get away. That’s what made the dog’s paw start bleeding again.”
Tension radiated from the game warden. “You think this prowler was after the boy?”
“I don’t know. If he didn’t know the layout of the house, he might have just been exploring.” It had already occurred to her that Abigail’s niece and nephew had probably visited as children, if not as adults, and she had to quell a shiver. “As soon as Wolfie alerted, somebody in a black hoodie pushed past me and hightailed it.”
“How did he get in?”
She slid lower in her chair. “That was my fault. After you went out the back door, I was so...distracted... I guess I forgot to lock the front again.”
“You don’t have a regular routine? Unbelievable.”
“Don’t raise your voice to me, Flint Crawford. Of course I have a routine. I always go around and check all the doors and windows before I go to bed.”
“But not this time.”
“No. Not this time.”
“Harlan said a lamp was broken.” He glanced at the sheriff. “Right? If the guy touched it, there might be prints.”
The older man huffed. “Nope. That was Maggie’s weapon. She’s the one who dropped it.”
Flint rounded on her. “A lamp? That’s almost as useless as a rotten limb.”
Judging by the firm set of his jaw and glint in his eyes, Flint was growing angrier by the minute. “Serves me right for telling you anything,” she countered. “Be sure to put plenty of syrup on your pancakes, Warden Crawford. You need a lot of sweetening.”
“And you need to learn to shoot,” he called after her.
Maggie whirled. “I help injured creatures, I don’t harm them. I don’t even like to step on bugs—and this is Arkansas, so there are plenty of those. Why would I want to shoot a gun?”
“Self-defense, if nothing else. You’re out here in the middle of nowhere with no protection.”
“He’s got a point there,” the sheriff said. “Until we figure out why all these crazy things have been happening to you, it makes sense to take precautions.”
“I trust God. That’s all I need.” Maggie turned her back to them.
Flint wasn’t about to back down. “Oh, really?”
Maggie could tell he was coming closer, because his aura preceded him. Tiny hairs on her arms prickled and a shiver zinged up her spine.
“Do you trust God or are you tempting Him?” Flint asked. “He gave you brains. You’re supposed to use them to figure things out, such as who might have been prowling around in your house.”
Spinning around again, she found him standing directly behind her, so close they were almost touching. That was so unnerving, she spoke before thinking. “If I’d used my brains in the past, I’d have listened to my parents and stayed away from you.”
Hostility that had been sparking between them suddenly vanished like smoke. She saw a flash of pain that he failed to hide quickly enough. The green
“I’m sure Harlan has already told you,” she replied, making a face. “I probably couldn’t sneeze without you showing up to hand me a hanky.”
“That’s because I care, Maggie. We both do.”
Flint hadn’t moved, yet seemed closer somehow. She nodded. “I’m getting that idea.”
A snort of amusement from the older man didn’t help Maggie’s mood. When she tried to glare at him and saw his comical expression, she found herself snickering instead.
“All right, all right.” She took a sip of coffee and leaned back in her chair to claim a little distance. “The sheriff has the mistaken idea I may have imagined it, but I know I didn’t. Wolfie went nuts and Mark said he saw somebody, too.”
“Did he recognize the prowler?”
She made a face at Flint before replying, “No. But he did tell me later that the guy was ugly. Wolfie charged at him, sounding like he was about to eat him for supper, and the man knocked me down in his rush to get away. That’s what made the dog’s paw start bleeding again.”
Tension radiated from the game warden. “You think this prowler was after the boy?”
“I don’t know. If he didn’t know the layout of the house, he might have just been exploring.” It had already occurred to her that Abigail’s niece and nephew had probably visited as children, if not as adults, and she had to quell a shiver. “As soon as Wolfie alerted, somebody in a black hoodie pushed past me and hightailed it.”
“How did he get in?”
She slid lower in her chair. “That was my fault. After you went out the back door, I was so...distracted... I guess I forgot to lock the front again.”
“You don’t have a regular routine? Unbelievable.”
“Don’t raise your voice to me, Flint Crawford. Of course I have a routine. I always go around and check all the doors and windows before I go to bed.”
“But not this time.”
“No. Not this time.”
“Harlan said a lamp was broken.” He glanced at the sheriff. “Right? If the guy touched it, there might be prints.”
The older man huffed. “Nope. That was Maggie’s weapon. She’s the one who dropped it.”
Flint rounded on her. “A lamp? That’s almost as useless as a rotten limb.”
Judging by the firm set of his jaw and glint in his eyes, Flint was growing angrier by the minute. “Serves me right for telling you anything,” she countered. “Be sure to put plenty of syrup on your pancakes, Warden Crawford. You need a lot of sweetening.”
“And you need to learn to shoot,” he called after her.
Maggie whirled. “I help injured creatures, I don’t harm them. I don’t even like to step on bugs—and this is Arkansas, so there are plenty of those. Why would I want to shoot a gun?”
“Self-defense, if nothing else. You’re out here in the middle of nowhere with no protection.”
“He’s got a point there,” the sheriff said. “Until we figure out why all these crazy things have been happening to you, it makes sense to take precautions.”
“I trust God. That’s all I need.” Maggie turned her back to them.
Flint wasn’t about to back down. “Oh, really?”
Maggie could tell he was coming closer, because his aura preceded him. Tiny hairs on her arms prickled and a shiver zinged up her spine.
“Do you trust God or are you tempting Him?” Flint asked. “He gave you brains. You’re supposed to use them to figure things out, such as who might have been prowling around in your house.”
Spinning around again, she found him standing directly behind her, so close they were almost touching. That was so unnerving, she spoke before thinking. “If I’d used my brains in the past, I’d have listened to my parents and stayed away from you.”
Hostility that had been sparking between them suddenly vanished like smoke. She saw a flash of pain that he failed to hide quickly enough. The green
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