Chapter 21

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(Amy)


Amy opened her eyes. But she wasn't happy about it. In a matter of seconds, she had plummeted from peaceful sleep into a bedroom filled with very disturbing noises. Pogo was making frenzied laps on the bedspread while barking his rendition of a canine power ballad. Electronic beeps modulating between low and high pitches played in time with a blinking red glow emanating from Alex's side of the bed. For his part in the auditory assault, her husband was unleashing a litany of profanity.

She sat up and gasped when Pogo barreled headfirst into her stomach. "Calm down, baby," she said as the freaked-out dog placed his front paws on her chest and began licking her face. "What is going on?"

Alex was sitting up beside her, staring at his phone. He swiped a finger across the screen. "It's the alarm system at Quantum. The motion detectors are sensing movement inside. I need to see what's going on."

He bolted out of bed. Amy did the same. Both of them froze for a few seconds to catch their breath. Sudden movements were so not a good idea when their bodies felt as though they were the ice cubes in a shaken martini. Amy blinked back the tears that had instantly sprung into her eyes and said, "I'm coming with you."

"No!" He flipped the light switch, flooding the room with pupil-terrorizing light. "I'm not putting you in danger."

Pogo jumped off the bed and began doing figure eights around them as they stood a few feet apart. "I could be in more danger staying home. What if someone is trying to draw you into town so that they can break in here or set the house on fire?"

He stared at her for a few seconds. "You could be right," he conceded as he disappeared into the walk-in closet. "Get dressed as quickly as you can. I'm calling the police right now, so hopefully they'll get there before us."

Amy pulled on a pair of yoga pants and slipped a Detroit Lions sweatshirt over the XXL T-shirt she was wearing as a nightgown. It was 4:30 a.m. She scooped Pogo up as she listened to Alex talking to the 9-1-1 operator. If she was correct about someone trying to break into the house while they were gone, she wasn't going to let her sweet pup face down scary intruders all by himself—even though he could very likely scare away even the Incredible Hulk with a few well-placed ankle chomps.

She followed Alex downstairs and sent out a cosmic thank you to the contractor who had suggested putting recessed night-lights in the wall alongside the staircase. She had never tried to run down the stairs carrying Pogo on a moonless, pitch-black night before then, but the illumination was a lifesaver. Their already battered bodies wouldn't have fared well in a tandem tumble down the steps.

They raced out the side door. A shiver quivered through Amy as she stood on the porch while Alex double-checked that their home's alarm was set. It was chilly, but the temperature wasn't causing the reaction—it was the giant cloud of dread raining down on her. Had someone tampered with their vehicles again while they slept? What was happening at Quantum? What did the anonymous, angry psycho have in store for them?

Amy mentally ordered her fears to take a hike. She didn't have the time or inclination to be a nervous coward. They jogged to the detached garage as the paneled door slid up. The black SUV that Alex had rented sat beside her Mini. "Let's take the rental car. If someone is inside the building, we may be able to get closer before they run if they don't recognize one of our vehicles is outside. I have a feeling whoever is behind all of this knows what car you drive."

That was her brilliant, intelligent husband. Thinking of critical things even when Amy was having problems concentrating enough to put one foot in front of the other to walk. She climbed into the unfamiliar vehicle, fastened the seat belt, and settled Pogo on her lap. The lights from the radio cast a green glow on the dog, making him appear demonic—a look to match his recent whirling dervish routine on the bed. Amy wasn't exactly feeling like an angel herself. Whoever was messing around at Quantum Media had better hope they didn't run into her or her dog. Nothing good would come from that encounter. She and Pogo were both small, but they were fierce when provoked. Trying to blow her and Alex up then waking them up in the middle of the night was the equivalent of poking an injured rattlesnake with a short twig. Not wise.

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