Christmas Stalking. Margaret Daley

I could use a dose of it, Lord.

      “Fine. Stay close behind me.”

      He chuckled in her ear. “Yeah, sure.” Skirting around her, he descended the steps, quickly heading into the wisps of fog snaking along the ground.

      Where’s a stun gun when I need one? Ellie hurried after Colt who moved quickly from the cold concrete drive to the warmer lawn. “Wait up.”

      He didn’t slow his pace, but she caught up with him about ten yards from the house. When she glanced back and spied the unprotected place, lit with security lights, she clamped her hand around his arm.

      He halted, his face unreadable in the shadows.

      “Go back and make sure no one goes into the house. I’ll finish checking out here.” Her fingers itched to draw her gun, but Mr. Jefferson didn’t want Colt to know why she was here.

      “And leave you alone? This is my home, not yours. What kind of man would I be?”

      “A smart one. What about leaving your grandmother alone?”

      “Then you should go back and—”

      Barking blasted the chilled air.

      Ellie withdrew the Glock from its holster and started toward the sound to the left.

      “Where did that come from?” Colt asked.

      “Mr. Jefferson.”

      “Harold?”

      “I’ll explain later. Go back to the house, lock the door and don’t let anyone in until I check out what caused the dog to bark. Do not follow me.”

      “Who are you?”

      No more secrets—at least with Winnie’s grandson. “A bodyguard hired to protect Winnie.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was trying to get into the front of the house. “Go. Now.”

      In the cover of night that surrounded them, he stared at her, or at least she felt the drill of his gaze, then he whirled around and rushed back toward the deck. She moved toward where the sound had come from, retrieving her small pocket flashlight in case she needed it. Right now she let the half-moon and security lamps by the house light her path since it would be better if she didn’t announce her approach if someone was inside the fence.

      In the distance she heard the cry of a mountain lion. She’d seen evidence of a big cat on one of her daily power walks with Winnie. Was that what spooked the dog? She’d gone into enough situations with incomplete intel to know the heightened danger that could cause.

      Her heart rate kicked up a notch as she drew closer to the perimeter on the west side of the house where the eight-foot chain-link fence was. Another roar split the air. Closer. The sound pumped more adrenaline through her body. Every nerve alert, she became hyperaware of her surroundings—a bird flying away to the right, the breeze rustling the evergreen foliage.

      Away from the house the only illumination was the faint rays of the moon. Not enough. She switched on her flashlight and swept it across the area before her. Just outside a cut part of the fence, its glow fell upon the mountain lion, its big eyes glittering yellow in the dark. Her light captured the predator’s menacing stance.

      * * *

      The rumble of a mountain lion nearby froze Colt as he mounted the last step to the front deck. He knew that sound from the many years he had lived here. He didn’t know who Ellie St. James really was, how capable she was or why she would be protecting his grandmother, but he couldn’t leave her out there to face a solitary predator by herself. No matter what she ordered him to do.

      He rushed into the house to a storage closet where Winnie kept some of his possessions. He used to have a hunting rifle. Wrenching the door open, he clicked on the overhead light and stared at the mountain of boxes that he had stored there. He delved into the midst of the containers filled with his memories. Where was the gun?

      Panic urged him deeper into the large, walk-in closet to the shelving in the back. There he saw something he could use. Not the rifle but a speargun, a weapon he was even more familiar with and actually quite good at using.

      He snatched it up and raced toward the foyer, grabbing a flashlight on the way. Before leaving, he set the alarm, then locked the front door behind him. Another growl announced to anyone around that this was the big cat’s territory and not to trespass.

      As Colt ran toward the west side of the property, he hoped there weren’t any trees the mountain lion could climb that allowed him access to the area inside the fence. Usually the eight-foot barrier kept dangerous animals out, but it had certainly sounded like it was close to the house, possibly inside the fence.

      Then a yell pierced the night. “Get back. Get away.”

      Those words from Ellie prodded him even faster.

      * * *

      Ellie never took her eyes off the mountain lion. It was still on the other side of the fence with his head sticking through the part that had been cut and peeled back to allow something big—like a man—through the opening. She waved her arms around. She didn’t want to shoot the animal because it was a beautiful creature. But she would if she had to.

      Its snarls protested her order to leave.

      Still it didn’t move back. Its golden gaze seemed to assess its chances of leaping the four or five yards’ distance between them.

      Bracing herself, Ellie lifted her gun and shone her flashlight into its eyes. It continued to stare at her.

      Behind her she heard something rushing toward her. Another mountain lion? But they were solitary animals that guarded their territory. One of the dogs? The one that had barked earlier? Where were the other two?

      She was calculating her chances with the mountain lion, then the new threat, when she heard a war cry, a bloodcurdling sound. The mountain lion shifted its golden regard to her right for a few seconds, then stepped back out of the hole and sauntered away as though out for an evening stroll. Some of the tension siphoned from her.

      She threw a glance over her shoulder and saw a light in the dark moving her way. Colt. An intruder wouldn’t announce his presence with a flashlight or a war cry.

      She spun around and started for him. “What are you doing? You were supposed to stay at the house.” Her light found him in the night, carrying a speargun. “This time you need to stay here and guard this hole. I need to make sure Winnie is okay.”

      When she passed him, he clasped her arm and halted her progress. “Hold it. Winnie is fine. I set the alarm and locked the door. What’s going on?”

      She stared at his hand until he dropped his arm to his side. “Did you check on her?”

      “Well, no. But we never went far from the house.”

      “I’m going to check on her, then I’ll be back. Will you stay here and make sure the mountain lion doesn’t come back? And this time stay where you’re supposed to be. I could have shot you.” She peered at his speargun. “A bit odd to be carrying around on dry land, but it should stop the cat if it returns. That is, if you can use it.”

      He pulled himself up straight. “I’m quite good with this. And it’s very effective if you know what you’re doing. Which I do.” Each word was spoken with steely confidence.

      “Good.” She hurried away, at the moment her concern for Winnie’s safety paramount.

      What if this was all a diversion? What if someone got into the house when they weren’t looking? Different scenarios bombarded her. All she knew was she had to lay eyes on Winnie to be reassured she was all right.

      She unlocked the front door and immediately headed for the alarm to put in the code. Then she took the stairs two at a time. When she saw Winnie’s door open, she finally breathed.

      * * *

      A strong scent of