Hidden in Shadows

She tried a second lamp, with no luck. Being stalked by a crazy cat in broad daylight is one thing, but in pitch black it could be its own kind of shocking experience.

“Kitty, kitty, kitty,” she cooed.

Krista was so not in the mood for surprises. Exhaustion filled every cell of her body after spending fourteen hours traveling from Mexico to Michigan. It was bad enough she’d missed her connection, but then they’d lost her luggage. She waited an hour and gave up, asking them to send it home when they found it.

At least she had the important stuff: her Bible, book of inspirational quotes and digital card with the hundreds of pictures she’d taken on the mission trip. She couldn’t wait to upload the shots to her Faithgirl blog.

“Ana-sta-sia,” she called out. The cat was sure to be in attack mode. After all, Krista had abandoned her for nearly two weeks. How dare she!

“Kitty, kitty, kitty,” Krista said, feeling her way down the hall to the kitchen.

It wasn’t like Krista had completely abandoned her. Her best friend, Natalie Brown, stopped by to check on the feline.

The wall phone rang, making Krista yelp.

She snatched the receiver. “Hello?”

“Welcome home!” Natalie said.

“Thanks, I’m glad to be home. Just wish I had some light.” She ran her hand across the wall in search of the switch.

“What do you mean?”

“The cat ate through my lamp cords.” She flicked the switch but the ceiling light didn’t come on. “Did I forget to pay my bill? No, I set it up on bill pay before I left.”

“They wouldn’t turn off your lights if you missed one payment, silly girl.”

“I’m a tired girl and I can’t see what I’m doing and any second now Anastasia is going to strike.”

“But it was a good trip, right?” Natalie asked.

“It was amazing.” Her heart filled with pride at the memory of helping the children in the small Mexican village. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“Fred Skripps won the fishing contest, the new condo complex on Fourth got approved and they’re bringing in a busload of tourists Friday. Be ready, tea mistress.”

“Ready is my middle name.”

“Bad, Krista, really bad.”

“Sorry. Long flight, they lost my luggage and I’m hungry.”

“Check your refrigerator.”

Krista made her way to the fridge and pulled it open. Unfortunately the fridge light wasn’t working either, but moonlight lit the kitchen enough for Krista to see her friend had left her some goodies.

“You’re wonderful,” Krista said.

“Says the woman who just spent ten days on a mission trip. You’re welcome. There’s chicken casserole, fresh fruit and takeout from Pekadill’s.”

“My mouth is watering. But if my power’s out I can’t heat it in the micro.”

“Did you check the fuse box in the garage?” Nat offered.

“That’s next. If I don’t fall asleep on my way out there.”

“Anastasia would have a field day with that.”

“Did you see her at all?” Krista fumbled in the kitchen junk drawer.

“Once, the first time I stopped by. She thought I was you.”

“How’d that go?” Krista pulled out a red mini flashlight.

“She ran, hid and never came out again.”

“Except to trash my living room,” Krista said.

“You want me to send Timothy over?”

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“He wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m good, really.” Krista liked being able to take care of herself. Natalie had done plenty, and Krista didn’t like taking advantage of Natalie’s boyfriend’s good nature. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

“I’ll stop by the tea shop.”

“Sounds good.”

She hung up and pointed the flashlight into the living room. “Kitty, kitty.” She aimed in all the corners, above the bookshelf, then got down on her knees and held her breath as she flashed the light beneath the sofas.

“This is ridiculous.” She stood. “I’m not going to let you punk me, kitty.”

Pointing the flashlight ahead of her, she marched into the kitchen and flung open the back door. The smell of winter floated through the yard, wrapping around her shoulders like a soft blanket.

Home. There was nothing like it.

She marched outside to the detached garage. Shoving the flashlight into her sweater pocket, she heaved open the garage door and reached for her flashlight. A crashing sound made her jump back.

“Anastasia, how did you get in here?” Krista aimed the flashlight into the garage—

And screamed at the sight of a large man rummaging through her toolbox.

Instinct demanded she run, but for a second she couldn’t move. Then the intruder turned to reveal a skeleton-masked face. He was holding a weapon in his hand.

Panic shot her out of the garage, her heart pounding against her chest. She raced for the house, focusing on the open door…

The man shoved her from behind and she went down against the cobblestone walk, the breath knocked from her lungs. It couldn’t end like this. Who would run the tea shop?