“Someone’s in the house, Clay,” Sabrina whispered.

      Fear shooting through his veins, Clay bolted for the golf cart. “What do you mean? Where are you?”

      “Hiding in the bathroom. I woke up when I heard footsteps in the hall. Hurry!”

      “Stay on the line with me. I’m only a couple of minutes away. Do you know where he is now?”

      “No. I can’t hear anything.” A thud sounded.

      “Sabrina?”

      “He’s in the room, just outside the door. He’s not making any effort to be quiet.”

      Clay had to strain to hear her. Her terror reached through the line and grabbed him by the throat. “I’m thirty seconds away.”

      Each second seemed like a lifetime until finally, the cottage came into view.

      Dread pounded through him. He shoved aside his heavy coat and gripped his Glock, pulling it from the shoulder holster and holding it ready.

      He stepped up onto the porch, stood to the side and twisted the knob to the front door. Unlocked. He pushed it open.

      Silence greeted him. Fear clutched him. Was he too late?