Tymber Dalton by Out of the Darkness Page A

button.
    “Sami, what—”
    “Shut up. What’s the password?”
    He gave it up without protest. She located the folder where he stored his manuscript files and switched it to detailed view. “What file were you working on?”
    “The new one. It’s called ‘dante2.’”
    She found it and didn’t know if she felt relief or horror. “There—what does that say?” She pointed.
    He leaned over her shoulder. It showed the last time the file was saved—2:50 a.m.
    She looked at him. “ Now do you believe me?” She pushed back from the computer and walked to the door while he stood there, confused. “I didn’t imagine this, Steve. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you’d better cut it out, or you’ll find yourself playing alone. While we’re at it, why the hell are you using a password all of a sudden?”
    He still stared at the screen. “Matt said I should. I meant to tell you.”
    There were a lot of things he “meant to tell her” lately, and didn’t until after she found out.
    She would make sure she asked Matt about it.
    “I…I don’t understand. I know I shut down and went to bed earlier than that.” He stared at the screen.
    Sami went upstairs and lay down in the guest room and tried to sleep. Eventually she heard Steve come upstairs and go to bed.
    Was it possible he’d come to bed and gotten back up? Maybe he was sleepwriting?
    That didn’t make any sense. She understood sleepwalking, but writing? And that didn’t explain how he got his feet cleaned so fast. He’d been barefoot, she’d seen for herself. Plus, the few tracks she saw in the dirt were barefoot.
    Around five she gave up, went downstairs, and made coffee. She considered calling Matt, but he wouldn’t be awake yet.
    She toasted a bagel and ate at the picnic table next to the pasture. The horses walked over to the fence and stood, stretching their necks, trying to smell what she had. She handed them each a slice of apple and rubbed their noses.
    “At least you guys are predictable.”
    Dawn painted the sky, but it took longer for darkness to lift from their property due to shadows cast by the tall pines. Around six thirty she changed into work clothes and took care of the horses.
    Steve was sound asleep. Part of her resented his ability to be so profoundly out of it. Part of her felt relieved she wouldn’t have to deal with him yet. She quietly retrieved her clothes and dressed in the guest room. No use showering when she would get dirty again.
    The horses didn’t seem any worse for wear from their early-morning wake up. She brushed them and saddled Mutt for a ride. In the middle of the week, few bikers haunted the park. Especially this time of morning, and she wanted to take her time.
    She followed the driveway to the main road. Once there she turned north, away from the main entrance. She let the gelding have his head, and he picked up speed until he settled into an easy canter. She didn’t let the horses run on the back trails because it was too easy for her to get slapped off their backs by a low limb, or end up with a face full of spiderwebs. But on the main road, when there was no traffic, she let them stretch their legs in the soft clay loam. In minutes, they approached the first campground area. She reined him in to a walk, mindful of traffic.
    She hadn’t spent much time exploring the north end of the park. A large, wide trail beckoned, and she turned the horse toward it. In less than an hour she reached the north fence line and turned west to follow it. Eventually, they would reach the east-west access road leading home.
    They meandered for quite a while, turning south with the fence line when they reached the western park boundary. Sami enjoyed the quiet morning. Every so often she heard a bike in the distance but none close enough to worry about.
    The fence made a ninety-degree turn to the west and ran through some trees. She rounded the corner and came upon a forestry truck parked by a gate. Tom