Justice at Cardwell Ranch
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B.J. Daniels
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18.1K
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18
Prologue
Nothing moved in the darkness. At the corner of the house she stopped to catch her breath. She could hear music playing somewhere down the street. Closer, a dog barked.
As she waited in the deep shadow at the edge of the house, she measured the distance and the light she would have to pass through to reach the second window.
When she’d sneaked into the house earlier, she’d left the window unlocked. But she had no way of knowing if someone had discovered it. If so, they might not have merely relocked it—they could be waiting for her.
Fear had her heart pounding and her breath coming out in painful bursts. If she got caught— She couldn’t let herself think about that.
The dog stopped barking for a moment. All she could hear was the faint music drifting on the night breeze. She fought to keep her breathing in check as she inched along the side of the house to the first window.
A light burned inside, but the drapes were closed. Still, she waited to make sure she couldn’t hear anyone on the other side of the glass before she moved.
Ducking, she slipped quickly through a shaft of illumination from a streetlamp and stopped at the second bedroom window.
There, she waited for a few moments. No light burned inside the room. Still she listened before she pulled the screwdriver from her jacket pocket and began to pry up the window.
At first the old casement window didn’t move and she feared she’d been right about someone discovering what she’d done and locking the window again.
When it finally gave, it did so with a pop that sounded like an explosion to her ears. She froze. No sound came from within the room. Her hands shook as she pried the window up enough that she could get her fingers under it.
Feeling as if there was no turning back now, she lifted the window enough to climb in. Heart in her throat, she drew back the curtain. She’d half expected to find someone standing on the other side lying in wait for her.
The room, painted pink, was empty except for a few pieces of mismatched furniture: a dresser, a rocking chair, a changing table and a crib.
She looked to the crib, fearing that she’d come this far only to fail. But from the faint light coming from the streetlamp, she could see the small lump beneath the tiny quilt.
Her heart beat faster at the thought that in a few minutes she would have the baby in her arms.
She heard the car coming down the street just seconds before the headlights washed over her. Halfway in the window, there was nothing she could do but hurry. She wasn’t leaving here without the baby.
